Page 32 of His Snowbound Omega

Hell, the last “romantic” evening he’d had, he and his ex had gotten chicken wings and eaten in front of the TV.

Then they’d had bland sex on the couch that Thorn had barely gotten off to.

“What are you thinking about?” Baal’s hand deposited the roll onto the small plate in front of Thorn.

He turned to catch the alpha just as he lowered back into his seat.

“You were frowning,” Baal said.

“Oh. It’s nothing.” He picked up the roll. “Thanks.”

As soon as he had his first bite, all thoughts of his ex and any unpleasantness of the past disappeared. A sound bubbled out of him before he could help it as rich butter and flaky, slightly salty bread seduced his tongue.

“That good?” Baal chuckled knowingly.

“This is the best tasting thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried my cock yet.”

Thorn choked—which was starting to become a habit—and reached for his water glass.

Only for the alpha to snatch it away and replace it with his full wine glass instead.

Because he’d rather not make a fool of himself and keep hacking, Thorn took the alcohol and gulped it down. By the timehe’d replaced the glass on the table, the alpha had refilled his original one.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath, “you really are trying to get me drunk.”

“I booked us a room at the attached hotel,” Baal informed him. “So there’s no reason to hold back tonight. Drink as much as you like.”

“And if I want to stop?” He tried not to focus on the part about the room.

“I won’t force you.” The alpha took his glass back, refilled it, and then sipped.

When the waiter returned, Baal ordered for them both, then allowed the conversation to die down for a bit while the two of them enjoyed the wine in silence. Even if his goal was to get Thorn wasted, he clearly wasn’t in a rush to inebriate himself. Baal milked the same glass in the time it took Thorn to drink another two.

“Did you hate your father?” The question came suddenly enough that Thorn almost choked a third time, but the alpha remained steady in his seat across the table, swirling the contents of his glass almost absently.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious if we feel the same way.”

“Do you hate your father?”

“I do.” Baal hummed in thought. “But I can’t decide which of our dads I hate more. Mine for mistreating the omega under his care, or yours for mistreating the omegas under his.”

Their food arrived, fortunately giving Thorn some time to mull over that odd remark. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting from the underboss, but a bleeding heart certainly wasn’t it. Not that he thought Baal wasthatempathetic, but still. It was strange hearing him say something like that.

“You do recall you coerced me into signing a contract with you, right?” Thorn asked, taking in the hearty slab of steak on his plate, and noting there was finally a touch of green where the beans were displayed next to the mashed potatoes.

“That isn’t the same.”

“Because?”

“Because I’ll take care of you, Thorn.”

He paused just as he was about to cut into the meat.

“You don’t have to pick that statement apart,” Baal told him, somehow seeing through him even with this. “There’s no hidden meaning. It’s as you’ve said. I already got you to sign the contract. What need do I have for buttering you up?”