His Prairie Omega Box Set

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His Prairie Omega Box Set Page 5

by MacKenzie Wilde


  “Jesus, a little warning?!” Kyle sputtered. He wasn’t used to seeing quite so much of his sister.

  “Well, sure as shit dad wasn’t going to let me leave the house like this.” She popped her hip in an alluring pose. “Besides, if I’m serious about this den mother business, gotta start somewhere, right?”

  Kyle shook his head as they made their way through a sparse gathering of smokers out front. A few hoots and hollers were directed at them, but the twins took it in stride. They pushed through the faux saloon-styled doors of McRorie’s, the best damned bar that Shale River ever could’ve asked for.

  Nine

  A rusted sign politely requesting that patrons within three days of a heat patronize other establishments had been gleefully ignored for as long as anyone could remember. Passing a massive bearded Alpha at the door with little more than a nod, a fresh wave of a familiar scent flooded Kyle’s nostrils. A heady blend of cheap beer, wood smoke, Alphas, fried food, and sweaty bodies looking for a good time, he jokingly dubbed it “redneck terroir” to his Toronto friends. He reeled at how nostalgically powerful it was after all of this time away.

  Despite the dull breeze of the many ceiling fans designed to draw off and vent the most powerful of the intermingling pheromones, the twins had a pretty good idea of who was inside the place the moment that they stepped past the saloon doors. There was the typical pack of lonesome young Alphas, fresh from the fields and loaded down with money to burn. Barely out of their teens, most had not grown into their full confidence just yet. They were too young and inexperienced to attract women interested in anything more than a one night stand. They usually saddled up to the bar, draining as many bottles as they could before acting like desperate peacocks to an uninterested audience, or heading out to fight one another or engage in mischief.

  The older Alphas in their late twenties and thirties tended to congregate around the dance floor, sniffing out and then charming the most desirable. They were less easily angered than their youthful cohorts, and had fully embraced the confidence that came with a large, strong, and well-muscled body. In truth, many were quite accomplished at dancing and many slender guys and gals delighted in being led by such large, powerful forms. It was all part and parcel of a timeless and complex mating ritual where only the best got first pick.

  The rest of the bar was packed with Betas just looking to forget the troubles of their work week and for a good time. For the handful of Omegas that the twins scented out, it was a buyer’s market: everyone wanted to be with them, and more importantly, everyone could scent them barely a few seconds after the saloon doors had closed behind them.

  Peanut shells crunched underfoot as Jess strode proudly into the bar with a confidence that Kyle hadn’t seen in days. She wore a coquettish grin under her cowboy hat as she slung her jacket over her shoulder. Not that she’d ever admit it to Kyle, but she could already feel herself becoming slippery wet. Beneath her bubblegum pink thong, freshly shaven lips plumped in anticipation of being split and soaked by her lover’s rough touch. The hot, smoky waft of Alpha pheromones was only accented by the number of hunky men that were sizing her up in order to make their move.

  An equal number were glancing at Kyle, and damn if it didn’t take every last ounce of his willpower not to buckle. It had been a full year since he’d been in a room that was as hot and swelteringly oppressive as this one. Toronto just didn’t have anything that could measure up to McRorie’s. He’d forgotten how overwhelming the bar could be with all of the roughneck country Alphas on the hunt for a mate. With each breath that he took, he could practically feel the warm, glistening bodies pressing against him. He drank deeply of their spiced scent, teasing his nose and flooding his lungs. His iron-hard cock bent painfully in his tight jeans, and he felt himself tighten as the dozens of leering eyes made his aching hole slick and ready. To a man, a group of rowdy youngsters at the bar looked over the twins at the same time and it gave Kyle the most inappropriate thoughts about how many of them he could get through in a single, unforgettable evening. He shook the lecherous thoughts from his head and followed Jess through the scattered crowd.

  “Any idea where everyone is?” Kyle shouted ahead to his sister.

  “They said they’d be at a side table,” Jess called back. She was about to check her to phone when her bestie Nat waved them over to a low, smooth slab of reclaimed barn wood. Five stools had been pulled around the table, but only three were occupied. Kyle smiled as he recognized some his old acquaintances. Chelle, a curvy cowgirl-turned-cheesecake pin-up, and Marco, a John Deere representative were both Betas. Super down to earth, they hung out all the time, but insisted that they were “just really good friends.” Sometimes their salty, lingering scents suggested otherwise, but they were simply good people. Marco had just finished a cool pint of Bud when he pulled Kyle into a hug. Chelle was close behind.

  To their side was Natalie, a lifeguard, who was just starting to show. An Omega, she and her hunky hubby Richard made a perfect pair. He was a tall and lanky Alpha, and ran his own contracting business. Dutiful as always, out of respect for his pregnant wife, he sipped on nothing stronger than iced tea. A little jar on the table was stuffed with coins and bills. It bore the name of Richard’s brother, Danny – probably needed the cash for some new skates, Kyle thought.

  Jess and Natalie erupted in a series of shrieks and hugged one another, derailing the conversation that Kyle was attempting to have with Chelle and Marco. The three of them watched Nat proudly puff out her belly as far as it would go, while Jess leaned down and began speaking to the baby bump.

  “…anyhow, Mr. Fancy-pants is back in town, eh?” Marco needled Kyle about his brief return. “What’s wrong, not enough cute guys in the city?”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t have that ‘Toronto’ smell about him!” Chelle poked him with a giggle.

  “Yeah, yeah, guys, I get it.” Kyle threw his hands up in mock surrender.

  “Seriously though man, how’s your family?” In a display of one of his more baffling traits, Marco effortlessly switched from being sarcastic to genuinely concerned.

  Kyle’s mind wandered. Of all of the things he could’ve said, he figured that “false alarm” saved the most face with his family.

  “Well shit, that’s good. I’m glad that your dad’s doing alright.” Chelle nodded as she tried not to pick a white patch of bandage that was firmly fixed along the inside of her forearm.

  “Yeah, totally. These old guys totally don’t take health seriously. It took me, Chris, and my mom, like, forever to get my pop to the clinic.” Marco shook his head.

  “Chris… hey, is he here tonight?” Kyle asked hopefully. It was a face that he hadn’t seen in ages, even before he left.

  “Well, he said he’d try to make it, but you know him – stuck late at the credit union as always. I swear his life’s just going to pass him by.” Marco looked off to the side wistfully.

  Chelle nodded. “Yeah, your brother’s got to start focusing more on his own needs, rather than that stupid job. It’s unhealthy. You know, I read online that…” As usual, the pair pulled each other into another one of their conversations.

  Kyle politely dodged the conversation after realizing that he hadn’t spoken to Richard yet. He made his way over to the proud papa-to-be.

  “The more things change, the more they stay the same. Welcome home, kid.” Richard smiled as he leaned in for a hug.

  “It’s great to see you again! And congrats by the way.” Kyle returned the favour happily. Richard said something in reply and clapped a strong hand against his back, but once he was pressed against the Alpha’s hard body Kyle’s mind was elsewhere. He blushed slightly and didn’t even know why he was thinking the filthy thoughts that he was: Richard was his friend, he was already accounted for, and more importantly, he was deeply in love with Natalie. Kyle reluctantly peeled himself from the rugged construction worker.

  The Alpha seemed to have noticed that something was… off.

  �
�I’d be careful if I were you tonight bud. I think that you’ve picked up a little too much of your sister’s uh, perfume on the ride over, if you read me.” A feral glint fell across his eyes. “I think I’m gonna give you some room, no offense or anything.” His eyes were intense and powerful as he flashed a wolfish grin. Richard leaned far back in his seat and took a pull of his drink, waiting for Natalie and Jess to finish buzzing about babies.

  “That strong, eh?” A bewildered Kyle shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have made the scene tonight. Or at least, maybe he should’ve come separately from Jess.

  Richard gave a guttural chuckle. “Shoot, it was damned near fireworks when you an‘ Jess barely got halfway through the saloon doors. I mean, it ain’t every day that two Omegas mosey through them doors, kickin’ up a whirlwind of desire strong enough to knock down every Alpha in the damned place!”

  A familiar folksy thump echoed in the background to the whoops and cheers from the crowd. Stone Foxes’ Stomp called dozens of tipsy cowgirls and cute boys in a stampede to the dance floor, their would-be suitors in hot pursuit.

  It was then that Kyle began to feel the weight of eyes upon him. He would’ve been anxious about the unwelcome attention and leers, but truthfully it made him more aroused than he’d been in years. He struggled to pay attention to Richard’s words as his eyes kept tracing along his strong jaw-line, the few greys that crested his temples, and the hard slopes of his long, muscled arms.

  “…like I said, I’m only telling you this because you’re my friend, but you’re kicking off a whole mess of red-hot desire in a bar full of very hungry men.” Richard’s gaze was predatory, and lingered on Kyle for a little longer than it probably needed to. His piercing eyes managed to make the hairs on Kyle’s neck stand on end.

  “Y-yeah, thanks for the tip, I guess? I’ll try to be careful tonight.” He was unsure how to respond in a way that wouldn’t enflame his senses and desires.

  “At any rate, feels good to get the pack back together. Almost like you never left.” Richard had been digging through a cheesy morass of pulled pork nachos and slid the plate across to Kyle. “Dig in. You’ve lost some weight eating whatever the hell passes for grub in the city.”

  He did as he was told and began to enjoy himself somewhat. Things were sort of normal between them. Richard even managed to discuss his plans to bid for the restoration of the old church at Brock and Main, but seeing the Alpha’s tongue casually lick some pork grease from his fingers caused Kyle’s body to nearly buck with anticipation.

  “You holding up okay, bud?” Richard shot him a curious glance.

  “Yeah, uh… just feeling the jetlag.” Kyle downed a half-filled glass of ice water that was resting upon the table. He nearly swallowed the lime. He looked over and noticed that his sister tilted her head ever so slightly as a devilish grin crossed her lips. She had caught his scent. Powerful and musky, Kyle scented him too.

  Jess spun around and popped her hip out in an exaggerated sashay. Content with the damage that she’d wrought on her lover, she blew the imaginary gunsmoke from the tip of her finger. Not too many tables away, Officer Jarett Briggs feigned being shot by Cupid’s arrow as he sauntered over to Jess. His meaty hand rested against his heart, and a big, stupid grin was plastered across his face. Jess held onto her cowboy hat and beamed a smile as she bounced on her tip-toes and placed a kiss on his neck. Cradling his girl, he leaned in for a kiss as he nuzzled her, briefly inhaling her scent before he placed scratchy nibbles on her delicate skin. Softly drawing her hair away from her neck, he must have whispered filthy nothings in her ear as her eyes went wide with gasping shock and she slapped Jarett’s shoulder a few times in a fit of giggles.

  Kyle glanced up. The fans overhead had been doing their job well, as only now did Kyle begin to recognize a few of the other scents in the bar. Jarett must’ve been in close contact with them recently.

  Kyle turned to his sister. “So, you didn’t tell me that they would be here…” His eyes narrowed.

  Jess pulled away from a flurry of pecks and kisses that Jarett was showering upon her long enough to explain herself. “Of course I didn’t tell you that the Firedogs would be here. Then you wouldn’t have come. Duh.”

  He was somehow expecting a more tactful reply. Kyle pressed a hand against the side of his face and felt his pulse begin to stumble and race. He realized that if he could scent the others, it would only be a matter of time until a certain someone would eventually sniff him out, as well.

  Offering to buy a pitcher was the perfect excuse to scout out the rest of the humid bar. Detouring past the bar, he made his way to the far corner with the pool table, the most likely place that they’d be. The crowd parted reluctantly here and there as the tempting Omega walked past. A few acquaintances recognized him and nodded. But while he had many smiles and glances, he knew that in his present state, flushed with the scent of his sister’s impending heat, he was little more than a walking slab of meat to most of the Alphas in the room. In wrestling with his own powerful urges, however, he began to joyfully embody his newfound role. He was hot, slicked, and about an hour away from dragging the nearest beefy farmhand home for a night of unbridled pleasure.

  Unburdening himself from his hazy thoughts, his heart skipped a beat when he began to recognize some of the Firedogs, the special unit of Park Rangers tasked with battling the many forest fires that threatened the wilderness of Shale River and its nearby counties. Many bore the iconic canine badge upon their left breast, as a reminder of what they had dedicated their lives to protecting. Their core unit was comprised of only the largest, fittest Alphas, and each smelled faintly of wood smoke and determination. Upon glancing at the group of them, Kyle was fairly certain that his heart was going to beat straight through his chest.

  He immediately recognized the scent of Big May, one of the Firedogs who served alongside Jake and Tyler. Easily as tall as the hulking men around her, Kyle knew that she was destined to lead a fearsome pack one day. The rusty mop on top of her head was shot through with silver hair, and her wide chest and massive arms were barely covered by a snug-fitting Under Armour top. She seemed pleased as punch to have a relatively slender wisp of a girl on her arm, a cutesy Omega named Darla who was at least eight months along in her pregnancy. Her braided hair was neatly held back in a bandana, and she wore an ankle-length hemp skirt. Kyle thought that she looked like one of those city girls that gets fed up with university and moves out to the sticks to eat lentils on a farm. From under her simple top, boulder-like breasts were almost poured into her bra, while her bulging belly was comically out of place on her slender frame. The two of them seemed positively glowing with love and affection.

  As Kyle was distracted by the heavenly scent that the two were bathing in, his heart ached. It seemed for one, brief moment that was the life that he could’ve had. But it was gone now. He stood watching, far enough away that it would take a minute or two for his scent to reach the group. He wondered if he should just leave now without saying anything? But how could he, when he needed to have his words heard so badly? Was it smart to walk into the proverbial lion’s den, a rutting group of jacked-up Alphas, when he was so obviously bathed in such an intoxicating musk? He was utterly conflicted.

  “I heard that you were back in town.” A gravelly voice, dull and flat, spoke from behind him.

  It was him.

  Before he could even turn around, a powerful wash of pheromones crashed over him with the force of a tidal wave. Kyle angrily cursed his weak flesh as he felt his aching cock thrusting helplessly in his pants, his asshole plumped and slick with desire. He was a mess of emotions, desire, and loathing.

  “Hello Jake.”

  He turned to greet his onetime friend and tried to still his quivering voice.

  “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” the Alpha apologized. “I just saw you from the bar and thought that I’d say hello.”

  “Yeah, well,” Kyle sputtered in an accusatory tone. “You moved pretty quickly fo
r your musk to have to catch up with you like that.”

  Jake offered a wounded smile. “Well yeah, I guess that I… just wanted to say hello…”

  The rugged Alpha was obviously distracted. He was probably soaking in the Omega’s pheromones and planning his next move, Kyle thought angrily.

  “How’s life been? I, um, don’t know if you got my texts… Big May and Darla are expecting.”

  “I congratulated them a while ago.” Too hurt to let him back in, Kyle was straining under the powerful presence of this intimidating Alpha. His eyes kept wandering along Jake’s dark, wavy hair, and the two-day stubble that shaded his chiseled face.

  “Look, can we go somewhere more private to talk?” Jake asked as they made eye contact for the first time that night. Kyle was pierced by the Alpha’s intense gaze. They were the same wintry pale blue of a frosted window pane, the Omega could see that Jake was burdened with sadness. Hidden within the heated miasma of pheromones that clouded the two was much shame and uncertainty. Kyle was surprised to scent pangs of regret darkening the Alpha’s mood. The realization stunned the Omega and sent flutters across his heart. But he couldn’t back down as everyone wanted him to, as an Omega was expected to do. Especially not to Jake.

  “W-why don’t we talk right here?” He spoke crossly to the strapping man who towered above him. He’d wisely chosen a table directly beneath one of the most modern looking fans in McRorie’s – they probably wouldn’t be distracted by primeval biological urges.

  Jake blinked slowly a few times before nodding. A bold, direct man, he wasn’t masking his annoyance very well. “Sounds good.” He saddled up to a bar stool and pulled one out for Kyle.

  “I’ll stand, thanks,” the Omega replied dryly.

  “Fine. Looks like you’re runnin’ on empty. Can I top you up?” Jake grasped a half-filled sudsy pitcher. Considering how large he was, it probably could’ve doubled as an extra-large stein for the Alpha.

 

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