by D. J. Heart
Throwing his bag into the back seat, he shakes his head to himself. It’s a waste, really. Zee isn’t going to get the kind of experience he needs to rise to Merchant’s level at Tank Security. Not with Peter having gone legit. The days when Peter’s company was a mercenary operation are far behind them. Topgrunder has taken their place as the go-to guys for paramilitary operations of a dubious ethical nature, and the most action Zee is going to see with Peter is rescuing hostages and working as a bodyguard.
Merchant backs out of the Tank Security training facility parking lot, turning on the radio as he tries not to think too badly of Peter. It’s not his fault he fell in love and wanted to be a better person for his mate, no matter how annoying it is for Merchant. He misses the old days, though he’ll be the first to admit that Peter still has plenty of interesting work for him.
Sweaty and still amped up from his sparring session, Merchant drives back to his apartment and takes a quick shower. When he gets out, there’s a missed call on his phone from Peter.
He grins. Peter only ever calls him from his private cell when he wants Merchant to do his dirty work, and Peter’s dirty work is always fun. Merchant picks up the phone and calls his boss back.
“Hey, boss. You rang?” Merchant says when Peter picks up, grinning into his phone. He can practically hear Peter’s teeth clenching.
Merchant knows just how far he can push the other alpha. Peter is far more dominant than Merchant, and a better fighter, but they’ve been through a lot together. Merchant has no doubt that deep down Peter appreciates his irreverence.
“I did. I need you to talk to an ex-employee of mine who’s suing me for sexual harassment. A beta. Convince him to drop his case.”
Merchant laughs. “What, you get sick of creeping on your alphas?”
Peter doesn’t say anything, and Merchant holds his breath. Okay, so he’s not always sure just how far he can push things with Peter.
“Watch it,” Peter says when the silence has grown more than awkward. His tone is humorous, and Merchant relaxes.
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll go have a talk with this guy for you. Have you sent me his details?”
“As soon as I hang up,” Peter says. He then proceeds to do just that, offering no goodbye. Merchant waits for the text, wondering what kind of person would be stupid enough to sue Peter Tank for anything.
It’s obviously someone who doesn’t know him very well.
***
Gerry Burr. That’s the name of the beta who’s suing Tank Security. He lives in an apartment building on the outskirts of the city, near the industrial area. Merchant parks his SUV on the curb and gets out, checking his phone again to be sure he has the right place.
The neighborhood has definitively seen better days. There are holes lining the concrete sidewalk, unplanted trees glaring in their absence, and graffiti of varying quality decorating every wall in sight. Merchant is glad that Peter pays him well for his services. He would hate to live in a shithole like this.
The beta that Merchant is paying a visit to lives on the third floor of the building, in an apartment at the very end of the filthy hallway.
Merchant has to admit that he’s judging Peter a little. If he pays his regular employees so little that they have to live in places like this, he can understand why they would want to sue him.
Knocking on the door, Merchant hears someone rattle around inside before it opens. The beta who peeks out at him is a short, mousy sort of fellow, with thinning hair and crooked teeth.
“Can I help you?” Burr asks, sounding nervous. Merchant pushes the door all the way open with a forceful shove, sending the beta tumbling back as he steps into the apartment and closes the door after him.
Merchant is dressed in his “work” clothes—cargo pants, combat boots, and a long-sleeve thermal T-shirt, all in black, with a pair of leather gloves completing the look—and he knows he looks intimidating as fuck.
Burr lands on his ass and stares up at Merchant with round eyes. Merchant crouches down and glares at him, squinting his eyes as he gives the beta his best don’t fuck with me look.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Merchant asks after a while, making sure his voice is as deep as he can make it. Burr pales, and Merchant can see the veins on his neck throbbing to the frantic beat of his pulse.
“What?” the beta asks, voice cracking.
“You’re Gerry Burr, right?” Merchant asks, just to be sure. The beta nods. Merchant nods and stands up, lifting his foot up and letting it rest on Burr’s chest, pushing him back until he’s lying flat on the floor.
“You’ve made my employer very unhappy,” Merchant says, putting more and more weight on his foot. “Do you want to guess why?”
Burr doesn’t answer, and Merchant lets out a growl. He reaches down and grabs Burr by the hair, lifting him up and slamming him into the wall. Burr lets out a high-pitched scream as his back slams into the plaster. Merchant keeps his grip on Burr’s hair.
“If you haven’t stopped irritating my boss by tomorrow at noon, I will come back here and break every bone in your body. Do you understand?” Merchant is full on growling now, baring his teeth and putting every ounce of alpha he has into his voice.
Burr wets his pants and starts crying.
“Do you understand?” Merchant repeats, giving Burr’s head a shake. The beta tries to nod, and when that doesn’t work, mumbles that he understands.
“Good,” Merchant says, letting go of Burr’s greasy locks. He steps back, surveying the crying beta in front of him with a contemptuous sneer.
“And seriously… sexual harassment? That’s what you went with?” Merchant shakes his head in contempt, turns around, and leaves the beta’s apartment. As he’s walking down the hall toward the stairs, the sound of Burr’s door slamming shut makes him smile.
His job is fun.
***
“Did you talk to him?” Peter asks when Merchant calls him from the car. He sounds happy, and Merchant knows instantly that he’s with his mate. Only Chad can make tough-ass Peter sound so… sappy.
“I did. If he hasn’t withdrawn his suit by tomorrow I’ll go back, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I have to say though, Peter, that I do question your taste.”
“What?” Peter asks, sounding distracted.
“It’s just… you’ve got a handsome young alpha and a top-of-the-line omega to come home to. Why are you bothering with a balding beta who cries the minute he’s got a face full of alpha? It’s ruining my image of your happy little trio.”
“I’m hanging up now.” Peter huffs and Merchant grins as the line goes dead. He puts down his phone and cranks the volume on the radio up. Even though intimidating a beta is pretty tame as far as missions from Peter go—Merchant hadn’t even had to beat on the guy—he still feels amped-up.
What he needs is a night out—a good knockout brawl with an alpha or a rough fuck with a cute beta. Either one, or both, will do.
***
Merchant decides to go out and see where the night takes him. The club he ends up at is loud and hot, with just the right mix of alphas and betas. The club has omegas on offer, but they’re kept away from the grinding masses.
Still, the scent of omegas in heat makes everyone on the dance floor rub up against each other that much harder. They writhe to the beat of the music, betas and alphas alike, instincts telling them that it’s time to fuck.
Merchant feels his cock harden at the heady scent, but he has no desire to follow it and seek out one of the poor heat-ridden creatures. Merchant prefers betas, and always has. That some alphas give him shit for it doesn’t bother him in the least. Merchant knows what he likes, and he isn’t going to apologize for it.
Moving through the club, Merchant feels like a shark cutting through a school of fish. He’s tall enough to stand out in the crowd, and his tight T-shirt and leather pants cling to his muscular body. He’s displaying his goods to their best advantage, and the betas parting before him a
re taking notice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Merchant sees a young beta staring at him with unadulterated hunger in his eyes. The boy can’t be older than twenty-five, and he’s got a tight body that has Merchant’s cock stiffening up and pressing against the leather of his pants. The boy is exactly Merchant’s type.
The scent of aroused beta, weak under the cloying scent of omega, makes its way to Merchant’s nose as he moves closer. He follows the delicious scent, moving with a predator’s grace, walking right up to the hungry young man. The beta looks like a deer caught in the headlights, all wide-eyed incredulity that Merchant is paying him attention, and Merchant smirks as he puts a hand on the beta’s shoulders and pushes him back up against the wall.
“You like what you see?” he asks, letting his smirk turn into a grin. He flexes, moving his arms so that he’s boxing the boy’s head in between his arms. The beta swallows, nerves and just a hint of fear mingling with the scent of his arousal, and nods. Merchant growls and leans his body forward, pressing his chest into the beta’s front and crushing him against the wall. When he pulls back, the beta is breathing hard and looking dazed.
Merchant pushes his knee up between the man’s legs, making his breath hitch and his eyes clench shut, and he can feel the beta’s erection pressing into his thigh. It’s much smaller than his own, and just what Merchant needs to feel to know that he can keep pushing. If the beta was soft, Merchant would back off and try a gentler seduction, but he’s thrilled that pulling back won’t be necessary.
This is the kind of boy Merchant can take home, truss up in rope and flog the shit out of—and make him like it.
“It feels like you like it,” Merchant says, grinding his thigh into the beta’s crotch. The boy nods, licking his lips and swallowing noisily as he leans his head on Merchant’s chest. Merchant grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back, making himself look stern.
“Do you like being treated like this?” he asks, his voice a growl. The beta shudders, and his pupils are blown wide open. Merchant already knows the answer to his question, but he wants to hear the boy say it.
“I like it v-very much,” the beta stutters.
Merchant’s grin gets even wider, his teeth on display. The boy gulps at the look of want he sees in Merchant’s eyes.
“Good. Let’s go somewhere private.” Merchant grabs the boy’s wrist and yanks him away. He leads him to the back of the club, handing the bouncer a crisp hundred dollar bill to pay for one of the private rooms. The beta follows, wide-eyed, and Merchant can feel his pulse racing under his fingertips.
For a second Merchant regrets his impatience. He knows that the private room won’t have any of the toys he likes to use to break in a beta—no floggers, hot wax, or plugs—but he doesn’t have the patience to take the beta home. Besides, he can have almost as much fun without his toys as he can with them.
“Have you ever been fucked by an alpha before?” Merchant asks with a growl, lifting the nameless beta over his shoulder and smacking his ass as he waits for an answer. Moving down the hallway, he can barely hear the young man’s mumbled no.
Finding an empty room, Merchant steps inside with his captive and drops him to his feet.
“Good,” he says, stroking the beta’s hair out of his eyes before pushing him back with a rough shove so that he lands on the bed. The boy stays where he landed, sprawled on his back, staring at Merchant with a nervous look.
Merchant takes his time, turning around and locking the door behind them, listening to the young beta’s breathing get faster and faster. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s about to break the seam of his leather pants.
Turning around, Merchant takes a step toward the bed. The beta scrambles back against the headboard, and Merchant’s instinct to chase is activated. He pounces, grabbing the beta off the bed and slamming him up against the wall. Before the beta has time to cry out, Merchant grabs him by the nape of his neck and leans in for a kiss.
The beta goes limp, relaxing his body and letting Merchant hold him. It makes Merchant’s cock throb like nothing else. The submission. The give. He can’t wait to shove his knot into the beta’s hole and to hear him grunt and groan as he’s forced to take it—filling him up with his load and making him hold it inside as though he were an omega.
It’s going to be glorious.
“Is it going to hurt?” the beta asks when Merchant finally breaks the kiss.
He sounds scared, but also endearingly determined. Merchant grins, kissing him again without answering the question. Without breaking the kiss, Merchant reaches under the beta’s ass and lifts him up, carrying him back to the bed and laying him down on the mattress.
Whatever happens tonight, Merchant is going to make sure that the young beta doesn’t regret it in the morning.
Though it might hurt a little.
Chapter 3
Logan reads through yet another omega progress report, but finds nothing particularly damning in any of the notes. It’s depressing how omegas are indoctrinated to believe that their only value lies in pleasing an alpha, but there’s no evidence of abuse that Logan can see.
Scooting back in his chair, Logan rubs his eyes and tries to figure out what he’s missing. Looking over at Chad, he sees that the alpha has a fierce look of concentration on his face. It reminds Logan that he can’t give up. The files were sent to him for a reason, and he’s going to find it.
Now that it’s just him and Chad, Logan has decided to abandon his private office in favor of sitting with Chad in the main area. They’ve put going through the files from The Virgin O on hold for the time being—what with all their work trashed and ruined—and have decided to focus their attention on the files Logan received anonymously by email. Since they’re working on the same thing, it makes sense to sit together.
“Fucking perverts!” Chad exclaims suddenly, making Logan jump. He takes a deep breath and looks over at the alpha, wondering what he’s found that’s making his lip curl up like that. Chad is usually so affable and calm, so to see him scowling and angry is intimidating.
Whatever it is he’s found, it can’t be good.
“Did you find something?” Logan asks, scooting his chair across the floor so that he’s sitting next to Chad. He scans Chad’s monitor, trying to see what has him so upset. Chad has two windows open, side by side, one showing what looks like an omega intake registration form, the other a typical birth certificate. Logan can’t tell at first glance what’s caused Chad’s reaction.
“I did. Look at this,” Chad points to the intake registration form. “They’re lying about how old their omegas are. If you see here and here, they changed the records. They’re basically selling underage omegas!”
Logan blinks. This isn’t just abuse, it’s a crime. This is something that any alpha would be upset about. It’s weird considering how awful most alphas are toward omegas, but the taboo against fucking an omega that hasn’t turned eighteen is absolute. Only the vilest of alpha perverts would even consider doing it, and they would be doing so at the risk of ostracization and imprisonment.
“Are you sure?” Logan scans the date on the birth certificate and compares it to the one on the intake form. Chad lets out a growl and nods.
“They change the year of birth on intake. It’s the same on all of these…” Chad clicks through five more files, comparing birth certificates and intake registration, the discrepancies ranging from two to three years. He turns to Logan with an expression like a kicked puppy. “I don’t understand how the alphas that bought omegas from them didn’t know. Omegas smell wrong when they’re young. There’s a reason you don’t take them until they turn eighteen. If this gets out, it would be catastrophic for anyone who’s ever done business with them.”
Logan gives Chad a dark look. The alphas are not the people he should be feeling sorry for in this situation. It’s the underage omegas. Chad notices Logan’s disapproving stare and shuts up.
“What?” he asks, furrowing his brow.
“Who cares about the alphas? Have you considered the fact that this guardianship center might be known for doing this, and that the alphas who have bought underage omegas knew exactly what they were getting?”
“They wouldn’t!” Chad’s objection is instant.
“But you said it yourself. Alphas know when an omega is too young. The only reason this would work is if they were marketing themselves toward alphas who want omegas that way.”
Chad shakes his head stubbornly. “You don’t understand. This isn’t… this isn’t something that happens. No alpha would ever—”
“I think it’s pretty clear that some alphas do,” Logan interrupts. “The question now is, how are we going to use this?”