Page 101 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus (The Exchange)

Chapter Fourteen

Melody

Carver is easy company. He unfolds a couple of fresh blankets and covers us both up before taking my temperature and documenting it.

I try not to grumble as Carver feeds me a turkey and Swiss sandwich by hand. It’s not something I’m used to. Not at all, but it is nice.

I suppose I’m a very cliché omega because I can’t seem to stop myself from soaking up every bit of attention and care they’ve given me.

I continually remind myself it’s part of his job and not because he wants to care for me.

Betas are meant for betas and alphas are meant for omegas. I’ve heard it my entire life. It’s why my mom pushed and demanded until I broke up with Ben’s brother Luke all those years ago.

Which is incidentally how I ended up with Ben.

Ben being an alpha made him a more logical choice. Add in the fact he never intended to leave town after graduation, and my mom considered him a perfect match.

Yeah, Carver is hot, but he’s a beta.

I know I’m being ridiculous. He’s not asking to date me.

He’s helping take care of me because I’m a job.

But the tender way he walks me through each bite with soft praises and killer smiles makes this feel like very dangerous territory.

Maybe I’m not as settled as I thought. Every time he tells me I’m a good girl as I take a bite, it makes me want to sit on his face.

Or possibly his cock.

Or sit on his face while sucking his cock.

I’m willing to be flexible if need be.

I get attached to people really easily.

I have to be careful here.

Miller said that they would be okay with something happening between us, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk.

No matter what my vagina thinks.

Ben is a manwhore, meaning I should have learned my lesson with them in general.

I know better than to get my hopes up with someone who doesn’t understand the word commitment.

Especially since I really like Carver’s friends, and if by some miracle I end up in a pack with them, I’d have to see him regularly.

It’s not a good idea.

“I need you to wake up,” Carver murmurs, brushing his lips over my forehead. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll keep annoying you until you do.”

I startle awake, completely unsure what’s happening or where I am.

Carver and I are lying chest to chest on the open cushion nest. He’s palming the back of my head, and I know I’m hotter than I was when I fell asleep.

“You’re sweaty and you were writhing around. I need to take your temperature,” Carver says, waving the thermometer in my face.

“I’m not hot enough for it to be dangerous,” I snap, slapping at his hand.

“Oh, yeah? Are you hiding a thermometer somewhere that I don’t know about?

” He bites his lip, wiggling his eyebrows.

He slides his hand down my back and over my ass until it rests on my thigh.

“I’m not sure if the fabric is making it feel like you’re hotter than you are.

” He tenderly rubs my skin and it makes me shiver.

“Nah, sweetheart. Your fever is up. The guys are still dealing with the elevator emergency. You didn’t even sleep for forty-five minutes. ”

“No, but I’m not a teenager. I’ve braved full-blown heats before when my ex couldn’t get time off at the ranch,” I say, trying to roll up into a ball.

“What?” He blocks my knees as his jaw falls open. “Heat leave is guaranteed. It’s a law.”

“Yeah, for omegas and their bonded alphas, which obviously we were not. Also he works for his family, so it’s not like they paid attention to all that stuff.” I try to hold back the whimper, but it escapes anyway.

Some of those memories are a little traumatic. There were times when I was younger that I honestly thought the pain would kill me, but omegas are resilient.

I can do this. I just have to focus on the fact it won’t last forever and accept the agony. Sometimes during a heat there’s no other option outside of hurting.

I don’t get why people think it’s so glamorous to be an omega. It’s really not.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” he says. “Sorry, it’s not like I’m telling you anything you don’t know.

Family or not, I’d tell them to fuck right off if I were an alpha and my omega needed me.

” He seems so sincere it makes my heart ache.

“He left you in pain, even knowing it’s a real possibility it could put you in the hospital? ”

I sigh. I really don’t want to talk about that. “You can take my temperature if it’ll make you feel better.”

He rolls me onto my back and ends up leaning over the top half of my body. I know I’ve had some intimate moments with the guys the last few days, but I was pretty hazy for most of that.

His touch is gentle as he cups my cheek, brushing his thumb over my lip.

“Tongue up,” he says and he’s already got a new cover on the thermometer.

He must have handled that before he woke me.

He might be a bit of a player, but he’s not bad at taking care of someone.

Or maybe I’ve just made assumptions based on what he said about flirting with the receptionist the night he brought me to the gym.

“I’m going to guess,” I say around the thermometer. “106.5.”

He frowns. “That was really specific.”

It beeps. He grabs the clipboard and removes the thermometer.

“106.9, you weren’t far off.” He writes down the temperature, tosses the board aside with the thermometer on top of it, then lies down next to me.

“I told you. I’m a pro at this.” I grimace, rolling toward him. I pull my knees up to my chest since I know it usually helps.

“Tell me how I can help,” he says, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Do you normally watch TV? Not that we can do that now, but my phone is charged. Nesting is kind of boring without the dirty sex and pheromones. I mean I’ve never been around an omega in heat, but now that you’re just lying here . . .”

“Back home if I were this coherent, I’d probably be working.”

“What do you do? All omegas in heat are supposed to stay home. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve met an omega with a job before.”

“I’m a writer,” I mumble in a small voice. I hate the snide comments that come my way whenever I admit that.

His eyes widen. “No shit?”

“Nope, not joking,” I say, but it sounds more like a groan.

“I read a lot when I was bored out of my mind overseas. What do you write? Mystery? Suspense?”

I’m hot, but I don’t think I’m blushing from the thickening wave of heat. “Romance.”

“Dirty stuff?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sometimes, but it’s secondary to the emotions.”

“Holy shit. That’s wild. Will you tell me about one of your books?” He stretches an arm over, gently rubbing my back in the same area I’ve apparently been rubbing on my front.

“Girl meets boy. They fall in love.”

“You don’t write pack romance?” He sounds surprised.

“Nah, it wasn’t worth the arguments . . .” I’m sure he doesn’t need to hear me say the words to know it was Ben and the rest of our small town that gave me trouble.

“What a fucking tool. Omega biology isn’t built for monogamy.” He gives me a look like he wants me to know he’s serious.

“Small towns are weird.” I shrug.

“Come on, tell me about your favorite characters,” he suggests, giving me a killer smile. “Tell me your favorite dirty scene.”

I squint, carefully watching for any sign he’s picking on me.

“I love a good romantic comedy.” He bites his lip, wiggling his eyebrows. “Don’t leave me hanging, Mel.”

“All right,” I concede. “I’m having trouble figuring out what to do about the characters in my next book. I’ll talk as long as you keep massaging.”

“Does it help?”

“It does.”

“Then you best get to talking.”

I wake up with my onesie stuck to my skin. It’s been cooler since the power went out. Carver mentioned the generators don’t run the heat, but I’m grateful because I’m sweating up a storm. I can’t imagine how miserable I’d be with the heat on.

I let out a weird groan that sounds something like, “Ungh.”

I blink awake, plastered to Carver’s chest with my pussy resting right over his very hard cock. I barely catch myself as I give an involuntary grind over it.

It feels so good that I think I do it again. Okay, I definitely do, but he’s so hard it’s practically impossible not to.

“You’re slick.” Carver’s hand flexes on my ass and his fingers dance down to the seam of my sex. “Does this have crotch snaps? Fuck me, it does . . .”

I snort, burying my face in his chest. “It’s comfortable.”

“I’m not hatin’. I’ve got a thing for skimpy little outfits. I go for them over straight up nudity anytime I pick porn.” His fingers drag over the material, barely brushing my aching core.

I’m very close to demanding he fuck me. My eyes throb like they do when I get especially feverish.

“I can tell just by touching you that you’re hotter than you were,” he says, brushing his other hand over my cheek. “I texted Oliver. I could hear it beeping from here, but he’s still out. You only slept for another thirty or forty minutes. Do you always cat nap during heats?”

“Yeah, but when I wake up, it always feels like I slept for twelve hours or something crazy.” I shake my head, trying to will away the haze of lust and want, but it doesn’t help. “I have to go.”

I don’t know where I plan to go. I’ll probably have to be super annoying until Oliver finally joins the land of the living again.

My hands fall to Carver’s shoulders, and I try to push myself up. I manage to kneel over him, but the movement causes a wave of cramps.

I groan, clutching at my middle.

“Fuck.” Carver grabs his phone from next to us. He types something out and tosses it aside.

“I hurt,” I moan, falling back to lie on top of him.

If I was thinking more clearly, I’d climb in the den nest and right onto Oliver’s cock.

But lying on Carver I get a strong hit of his scent.

It’s woodsy and has notes that remind me of the air right before a thunderstorm.

My nose plasters itself to Carver’s throat. “Dylan, you smell like pure sex.”