Page 8 of Wild Omegas (Wild Skies Ranch Omegaverse #1)

Carson

Josie is fucking with us. I have no reason to think otherwise. She’s spent a day with each of us learning our jobs and processes around the ranch. She’s started baking every day. Sometimes muffins or cookies, other times simply loaves of bread.

But she is fucking with us.

That tight yellow sun-dress. God, I cannot get it out of my mind.

How it hugged her tight curves. How it showed off her collar bones.

How all I can think of is running my hand up her thighs, tucking up the dress with it, until the source of her omega floral and honey scent is revealed for me to devour.

How I want to spread her over a table and enjoy.

Fuck.

I remove my thumb from the top of the hose, which I was using to water this section of garden. There’s a part of me that wishes that thumb was pressed elsewhere.

“Holy shit.” I hiss and throw the hose away. This fucking omega is consuming every single thought.

One day she seems to not stand the sight of us.

The next she’s all dressed up serving lemonade.

Does she want to get involved with us like that, or just keep it professional? It may come to a point of demanding an answer so I know whether spreading her over a table is an actual viable fantasy.

My jeans feel suddenly far too tight.

I turn off the hose and wrap it up for the day, but my cock is still hard as fuck and showing no signs of deflating. How could it with the vision of Josie’s body in that dress haunting my every waking moment? There’s only one solution, feeble though I know it’ll be.

I move around the back of the gardening shed and lean back against it.

There’s not another human soul in this direction for miles.

I pull out my cock and stroke it roughly.

I groan as waves of pleasure start and close my eyes.

My head falls back against the wooden panels.

I think of Josie in that dress. Of her kneeling down before me and pulling my cock past her beautiful, full lips and into her throat.

“Fuck,” I hiss. I already feel my climax rushing toward me. It doesn’t take much.

It’s Josie. Just Josie.

My cock throbs in my hand and my balls pull up tight. I cum into the ground in a violent burst, a groan ripped from my throat. It clears my head for now. But I feel a rut coming and I’m not entirely sure how that’s going to go with Josie so close to me every single day.

I’m caught up with thoughts about that when my phone rings. The tone pierces through the thought-spiral which is cleared away entirely when I see the caller ID.

Jason.

My stomach sinks. I pick up the call. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Jason says a little too tightly. It’s all I need to know this will be another sales call. “How ranch life going?” He says it like ranch life is a blight upon his entire bloodline. Spoken like a true city-lover.

“It’s not all bad.” Especially not with a hot as hell omega serving us lemonade on the front porch. “What’s up?”

A pause. Very unsalesman-like. Not Jason’s fault—he’s never been a good salesman. He’s all ideas and cash, no plan execution. “I want you to come back to New York and hear out a project.”

I exhale a laugh. “Are you kidding me, man?”

Jason scoffs. “Not at all. You’ve got the brains for this, it’s a perfect fit.”

“It’s another start-up,” I argue. “I told you I’m done with those.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason says. I can hear the mad clicking of a pen—his nervous tell. “Got your bag and ran, I understand. But trust me when I say this is perfect .”

He goes into an unwanted but absolutely practiced pitch about some app for rich people.

Most of it goes in one ear and out the other and not just because of the wet spot on the ground staring back up at me like a reminder of the main reason at this very moment city life is no longer for me.

There’s nothing in the big city for me anymore.

My life is here and, if luck is on my side, my omega is too.

Jason ends the pitch with, “60/40 ownership, with you getting more,” which is the only part I hear. It’s generous to split higher with me when he could use the money more, but it’s the only thing I need to hear to know Jason is very serious about this. He’s done his research. He’s ready to launch.

But I’m… not. Five years ago, maybe I would’ve. But not now.

“I don’t know, Jason.”

“Oh, come on, Carson,” he spits back at me. “You’ve done the country song and dance for how long now? It’s time to come back home. I can’t believe for one second that there’s enough adrenaline out there for you to survive on. You belong here, taking big risks and bigger swings.”

“All in the name of money?” I volley back.

“You bet your ass it’s in the name of money.” Jason never changes.

But I have. “I’ll think on it, okay?” He won’t let me off the phone if I don’t give him at least that much.

As expected, he replies, “Absolutely. Sure thing. Take all the time you need. I’ll call you again in a few days.”

“Thank you, Jason.” One step closer to peace and quiet once more. And one minute closer to dinner with my packmates and the omega living downstairs.

Stairs. I imagine for a moment taking Josie on the stairs, her gentle fingers grasping the railing for balance.

“Just let me know?—”

“Gotta go.” I hang up the call and bang my head back against the barn.

I’m so, so screwed. But I do know one thing for certain: I’m not leaving Wild Skies Ranch. I have more money than any man should ever rightfully own. I have peace, finally.

I might have an omega too.

But first I have to survive dinner in the same room as her without shooting out of my jeans like I’m fucking eighteen again.

It’s going to be a long day.