Page 10 of No Strings Attached (Omega’s Preference #4)

Olivia

I shimmy into my favorite dress, the deep gold shimmery silk sliding over my skin, hanging low between my breasts, hugging my curves just right. It was Jamie’s present to me a few months ago after I kept staring at the thing in the shop window but never stepping into the store to grab it.

The mirror in our bathroom reflects the soft glow of the fabric and the rest of my presence that I worked hard to perfect.

My hair’s pinned up, a few loose strands teasing my neck, and I lean forward to slip on my earrings, little cameras with diamonds encrusted for where the lens would be from last year’s anniversary gift.

Jamie’s reflection appears behind me, his long blond hair loose around his shoulders, his gray suit open at the collar, those white frills he loves so much peeking out.

I always used to joke about his ‘theater kid’ attire but he’s one of the few men I’ve watched pull it off with such ease.

It helps that he’s not a pompous ass and doesn’t try to show off when he’s wearing it.

He steps up closer as he holds up a gold necklace to match my earrings, my smile widening at the newest addition to my outfit.

Jamie’s delicate with it as he lays it on my neck and does up the clasp around the back before pressing a kiss there, his soft lips sending a thrill down my spine.

“I fucking love when you have your hair up like this,” he murmurs, his voice low, vibrating against my skin.

A quiet laugh comes from me as I run my fingers along the necklace.

“Jamie, you seem unusually excited about this gala,” I say, turning in his arms to face him.

He rocks against me, and I feel his cock, hard through his pants, pressing against my belly.

He lifts me onto the bathroom counter, the cold marble a shock against my thighs, and kisses me deeply, his tongue teasing mine.

I pull back, laughing again. “You’re going to mess up my makeup! ”

“And I’d be worried if my beautiful goddess actually wore any,” he muses, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief, his hands settling on my hips.

I tilt my head, studying my husband, the flush in his cheeks and the way his body’s practically buzzing.

“You’re excited about seeing him again, aren’t you?

” It’s been barely two hours since we left the motel, his scent still lingering in my nose.

A piece of my heart went with him, and I know Jamie feels it too, that pull that only biology can explain.

His eyes light up, his hands tightening on my waist. “Did you feel how perfect his hands were?”

I wrap my fingers around the front of his neck, tugging him closer, my thumb brushing his jaw.

“I did,” I purr, “and I loved watching him fuck you. Goddess, he left so many pretty marks on you.” My fingers trace down his neck, over the faint bruises and red marks Elias left, a claim he probably didn’t even realize he was making.

Jamie responds with his own purr as my touch lingers, his skin warm under my fingers.

“I don’t even want to go anymore. Can we just call Elias over?”

I snort, shaking my head. “You’ll terrify him,” I tease.

“We both will. I know we want to give him more, babe, but we have to pace ourselves. Slow and steady wins the race.” I want to fight myself over those words because in reality, I’ve been holding myself back from sending him a message.

We exchanged our information before he left and I’ve been fighting the urge to call him, check up on him, and even ask him to skip the gala altogether but I won’t add to his distress.

I want to be a place he runs to, not from.

I’ve never been a fan of these galas and fundraisers which are just disguises for the entertainment world to get drunk, hook up, and not pay for the damn consequences later. However, it’s also the perfect time to network and we need all the visibility we can get.

One heavy sigh later, Jamie pulls open my door and walks me up the marble steps, my short heels clicking on the surface as we go.

It feels almost deafening despite the gala in full swing, the air buzzing with chatter and the clink of glasses.

And now suddenly everything feels too tight, too much, a reminder of the role I’m playing tonight—professional, polished, the face of Dane Productions.

Jamie is even more nervous than I am, already reaching for a tray of those cute little hors d'oeuvres to keep his hands occupied. It makes me smile the way he immediately stuffs two of them in his mouth, munching away like it’s just the two of us.

I place a firm hand along his back as we both sigh at the contact before pushing forward.

Having to keep up this facade of being strong, capable Alphas is weighing on us both because we just want to be.

A young actor, all bright eyes and enthusiasm, corners me almost immediately, his voice bubbling over. “Olivia, I’d love to be considered for your new film,” he says, barely pausing for breath. “I’ve got this great range, and I think I’d be perfect for—”

I nod, smiling, but my mind’s already searching for an exit.

He’s sweet, but I’ve got a dozen conversations like this lined up tonight.

I’m about to pivot, maybe mention a follow-up call, when Tristan appears, his tobacco scent sharp as he cuts through the crowd.

His eyes lock onto mine, and I brace myself for the confrontation we always have.

He throws a few jabs, tries to make me act out, and then walks away like he won something.

“Olivia,” he drawls, stretching my name out.

I hate my name on his tongue and hate it even more that we once considered this Alpha to have in our bed.

He hasn’t let us forget it, or rather, he blames Jamie for me saying no.

“Let’s talk products. I’ve got some star content creators ready for collaborations with Dane. ”

I snort and shake my head. We’ll never partner with him, however, that might change knowing that Elias is our Omega.

At the very least, I will free Elias from whatever bullshit contract he’s stuck with.

I swallow, forcing myself to keep from asking about Elias’ wounds.

“I don’t need anyone at the moment, Tristan. Thank you but no thank you.”

Tristan starts rattling off names and numbers anyway but I’m only half listening.

I do a cursory gaze around the room, locking on a few people I need to touch base with before staring at Jamie.

He lets out a little hum as he grabs a cucumber sandwich from a passing tray, completely tuned out.

His whole body wiggles as he pops another one into his mouth, his hazel eyes bright with simple joy.

I love that about him, the way he finds delight in the smallest things, even in a room full of sharks.

Tristan’s gaze shifts to Jamie as his grin twists into a snarl.

“Your husband is an absolute disgrace of an Alpha,” he growls out.

“You could do so much better if you ran Dane all by yourself, Olivia. Hell, you need a real Alpha.” He steps closer but I just glare at him before he makes a mistake he’ll regret.

We might be softer Alphas but that doesn’t mean we’re okay being disrespected.

I run my hand up and down Jamie’s back as he freezes, his citrusy scent hardening slightly.

Fucking hell, I’m going to murder Tristan.

This isn’t the first time someone’s thrown that at us—our dynamic doesn’t fit their neat little boxes, and they love to remind us.

It never gets easier to hear, especially not for Jamie, who’s already shrinking beneath Tristan’s stare.

I step forward, my hand still on Jamie’s back, making sure to push every ounce of anger into my voice.

“First off, you won’t talk to my husband that way.

For someone looking for our money, you have a weird way of going about it.

Second, my husband is the nicest, most fulfilling man on the entire goddamn planet. ”

Tristan leans a bit closer, his entire face twisted up in a deviant expression. “I don’t know how fulfilling he is, considering you guys seem to have someone different in your bed every night. Does Jamie even know how to get you off? You really should have taken up my offer when I gave it.”

A low growl rumbles through my chest as I curl my fingers into the back of Jamie’s jacket.

“You would have never measured up to my husband, you fucker,” I push out through gritted teeth.

“And if we weren’t at a gala, I would let you know just how much I despise you.

” I have a mind to drag him outside and throw a few punches at that smug face but there’s no doubt in my mind that it would blow up over social media in an instant and I would be the aggressor.

Jamie isn’t as torn up about the situation as he throws a quick jab to Tristan’s stomach.

I have to swallow down my smile as he glares up at the man.

“You’re fucking despicable. Regardless of how well I fulfill my wife, the fact that she’s declined your invite several times should say something.

You keep saying I’m not Alpha enough but she won’t even touch you with a ten foot pole.

Look in the fucking mirror, Tristan. Oh, and we’re still not going to work with you. ”

Tristan scoffs as he places his hands over his heart in mock offense. “Not that I need it. Just seeing if Olivia had smartened up. You see, Mr. Hart decided to work with us this morning. It’s quite lucrative.”

I almost say something but Jamie pulls me farther into the crowd, away from an inevitable fight.

There were already people starting to look over.

Jamie doesn’t stop until we’re almost at the other end, tucked away next to another table of little sandwiches and mushrooms. I swallow carefully before turning to face my husband, my heart aching when I catch the tears in his hazel eyes.

“Don’t,” he pleads, his voice rough but soft, before I can speak. “I’m okay. He always says shit like that to me.” He clutches an almost empty plate to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how tightly he’s gripping it.

“Babe, that doesn’t make it okay.” The only real reason I’ve ever held back from fighting Tristan is because Jamie asked.

He doesn’t want my image tarnished and he refuses to put me in the spotlight for anything other than perfection.

And as much as I want to defend my Alpha and my husband, I won’t refuse his wishes.

I step closer, casing him against the wall, a sigh of relief coming from him.

“Also,” I gently pinch his chin to angle it upward, our gaze meeting as I brush my lips against his.

“You are Alpha enough for me. You’re the only Alpha for me. ”

Jamie lets out a soft whimper as he chases my lips. “I know. I was just saying those things. I promise. I know it’s not whatever society says I should be, but really, I’m okay.”

“You’re more than okay,” I murmur, my words just for him.

He’s my rock, my joy, the man who makes cinnamon twists and dances with me in our living room.

No one gets to make him feel less. “And I mean it. We don’t need an Alpha.

I think we’ve been looking in the wrong place this entire time.

” His cheeks pink a little, no doubt bringing up the memory from earlier this afternoon.

Jamie nods as he leans back against the wall and sets his plate on the table beside us, his hands falling to his stomach. “I should probably stop eating,” he says, even as he eyes a tray of mini éclairs. “My clothes are getting a little tight.”

I grin, my hands sliding to his waist, feeling the soft curve there under his suit.

“I quite like that belly of yours though,” I say, my voice teasing but honest, my fingers pressing in gently.

His cheeks flush a little darker, the deep pink color spreading under his beard, and I lean closer, my lips brushing his ear.

“I kind of want to see what happens when Elias gets you completely naked, how he’ll worship every curve of your body and then consume you with that delicious scent of his.

I can still smell him, even though he’s not here with us. ”

Jamie’s blush deepens, and he then groans, as he snatches an éclair and stuffs it into his mouth to hide it. “Please stop talking like that,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the delicacy. “We have to at least make it an hour before we can leave and I can’t walk around here with a boner.”

My eyes widen a little bit, wondering how far I can push this moment but I absolutely know it won’t take much to have Jamie melting in my hands.

Which is why I step back and let him furiously chew his dessert while ogling my gorgeous husband.

I only turn away when someone steals my attention, starting up one of many conversations we’ll have tonight.

“Olivia! Great to see you!” Hunter grins as he throws out his hand for me to shake, jumping right into a pitch about his latest project, some thriller he’s dying to bring companies in on.

I nod, my responses short, polite, just enough to keep the conversation going while my mind starts to drift to a certain Omega.