by Aria Grace
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
1. Jude
2. Andy
3. Jude
4. Andy
5. Jude
6. Andy
7. Jude
8. Andy
9. Jude
10. Andy
11. Jude
12. Andy
13. Jude
14. Andy
15. Jude
16. Andy
17. Andy
18. Jude
19. Andy
20. Jude
Also by Aria Grace
Omega’s First
Omega House #3
Aria Grace
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
Omega’s First
Published by Surrendered Press
Copyright 2018 Aria Grace
1
Jude
For a group of people who claim to be all about customer satisfaction, these assholes really know how to piss me off. I took this job as a favor to my buddy, Matt, and I’m definitely regretting it. Matt knows his customer support team is struggling but I don’t think he has any idea how bad it is.
“I hear what you’re saying, but users don’t interact with the web like that anymore. You can’t just pop a button on a page and expect people to buy your products. You have to move them through the sales funnel so they come to that conclusion on their own.” Chris Murdoch, the idiot who has been assigned to provide content to me waves off my concerns as if I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.
“With all due respect, I think I know our customers a little bit better than you do. If you can just list the most important products here.” He points to the left side of the projection screen where I’ve got a mockup of my proposed website displayed. “And then, list out some of the features and benefits over here, I think we’ll be good.”
I clench my teeth, trying not to groan out loud. It’s not like we haven’t been through this a hundred times. What he’s asking for is user interface 1999. It’s dated and ugly. Not to mention that decades of science have proven that people shop in different ways now. I refuse to put my name on something that I know is not going to be successful.
“Okay, let’s take a step back. Can you tell me some of the competitor sites that you’ve seen that work in the way you’re describing?” Hopefully this will shut him up because nobody does this.
He looks at me curiously, like my words don’t make sense to him. “Are you suggesting we copy what other people are doing?”
I shrug. “Not copy, but we should benchmark your competition to make sure that if a customer who is familiar with your competitor visits your site, they will understand how to use it. There’s no need to reinvent the wheel if something is working well for other companies in your industry.
“Oh, um, no, I haven’t done that.”
Of course he hasn’t. Why would he? “No problem. That’s what you hired me for.” This guy doesn’t seem to realize there’s a reason his company is paying me six figures to complete this project for him. It’s because I know what the hell I’m doing and he doesn’t. “Let me show you what I found during my research.”
I pull up the competitive analysis I did as soon as I accepted the project. Then I spend the next thirty minutes explaining to him why the things he’s proposing are wrong and why my proposal is exactly in line with what his target audience will be expecting.
It takes some time, but he finally begins to budge.
“Okay, fine.” Murdoch sighs in defeat. “You’re the expert, so I’ll let you lay out the page the way you think is best.”
“Thank you.” I’d like to celebrate this victory, but I know it’ll be short-lived. Next time I see him, I’m very sure we’ll have the same damn conversation because this is not the first time we’ve had it. But at least I can get the hell out of here for the night. “I’ll begin working on it immediately, and you should have something to review when we meet again in two weeks.”
“Thanks, Jude. You’re doing a great job.”
I want to laugh in his face because either that’s a complete lie or he has a weird way of showing his appreciation. But I don’t do either, letting it go for the sake of keeping the peace.
“All right then. I’ll talk to you later.”
I love owning my own business, and web design with a UX focus has been lucrative, but it’s dealing with these kind of clients that make me want to become a barista at Starbucks.
I barely get my truck in the garage before my phone starts buzzing. Of course, it’s Gunnar, bugging me to go out. Not wanting to hear him whine to me about being a homebody, I text him back. I’m tired.
Suck it up, buttercup. You haven’t gotten laid in months. You’re not staying home on your birthday.
Fuck, is it my birthday? I glance at the date on my watch and cringe. Yeah, I guess it is. How about a rain check? Maybe sushi tomorrow night?
Sushi tomorrow sounds great. But we’re hitting O-Ring tonight. No excuses.
Shit. When Gunnar gets like this, he’s like a dog with a bone. He won’t back off until I agree. Fine. Meet there at eight?
Yeah. And if you’re not there by 8:15, I’m coming to pick your ass up.
I wish he were bluffing, but I know he’s not. I’ll be there, but I won’t be in a good mood.
Perfect. There are always plenty of omega subs who get off on being with pissy alphas.
Gross. No thanks. I know exactly the type Gunnar is talking about and they’ve never been my thing. I’m not into the weak omegas who act all delicate and fragile, hoping to find an aggressive alpha who will own them. That’s not to say I don’t like being possessive of my omegas when I’m with one, but the fragile ones just don’t do it for me.
I like a man who knows what he wants and is willing to ask for it, demand it.
As soon as I see the line outside the club, I reconsider whether not I want to actually go in. There are always five times as many willing omegas as there are alphas at O-Ring. That’s why I usually avoid the place, but it’s the same reason Gunnar loves it here. There is absolutely zero chance of going home alone. Or at least not without having knotted at least one or two begging holes. And sadly, that’s all most of these guys are.
Sometimes a few quality omegas will find their way in, but it’s been my experience that most of the guys here just want to be used as a knot hole to get through a heat or feed their addiction. And there are plenty of addicted omegas.
2
Andy
I love my brother. I do. And I love his family. But it’s getting harder and harder to spend time with Freddy and Ethan when I’m just so damn lonely. To make matters worse, with the summer break coming up, I’m about to move out of the dorm and back into Ethan’s place to save money. He said he’s willing to put me up in an apartment if I really want my independence, but that’s a heavy burden on his family. He’s already sacrificed too much for me. Besides, it will be fun to spend more time with baby Kaitlyn and little Colby. Those two are the sweetest, most adorable babies you’ve ever seen. I love cuddling and playing with them. The only downside to all that baby time is that they’ve got my clock ticking. I’ve heard it happens to some omegas sooner than others, but this is ridiculous. I’m not even twenty yet, and I’m already itching to be knocked up and mated. It’s stupid and annoying…and all I can think about when I watch Ethan and Freddie wi
th their perfect little family.
The problem with my whole wanting to have a baby plan is that you can’t start thinking about babies when you haven’t even had sex yet. Yup, as pathetic as it is, I’m one of the few eligible omegas in the entire university who isn’t taking advantage of the abundance of hot alphas, experimental betas, and omegas in heat.
I thought that once I got to college, opportunities would open up for me that I didn’t have before. And to some degree, they have. I’ve gone out on a few dates, and could have totally hooked up with any one of those guys. But every time it’s come to the moment of saying yes or no, I chicken out, wanting to wait. It doesn’t make any sense, really. There’s no reason for me to wait.
I’ve never been religious, and none of my friends or family would expect me to. Hell, Freddie had been pregnant several times before he met my brother and that didn’t bother Ethan at all. So, I don’t know why I’m being sentimental about my first time.
And scared. I’m also scared shitless.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m scared of, but the racing of my heart and sweating of my palms every time I’m with a guy and I feel like he’s expecting sex is not just from excitement. It’s definitely a nervous energy. The kind of energy that makes me come up with a lame excuse to call it an early night and get the hell away from him.
But that ends now.
I’m ready to do it. The sooner I get it over with, the sooner the stress I feel will go away. And then I can have fun when I’m on a date. I’ll feel confident when I’m with a guy that I like and whether or not we end up in bed or in a dark corner of a club won’t matter so much.
At least, that’s my plan for tonight. I probably should have asked Ryker or Jimmy to come with me, but this is something I need to do on my own. I need the freedom to choose who I want and just go for it without the fear of rejection if my friends are watching.
So, here goes nothing. I’m wearing a pair of dark jeans with a few small holes in strategic locations and the perfect fit around my ass to make everyone aware that it’s available. And a green T-shirt that matches the flecks in my hazel eyes. Hopefully it’ll make my eyes stand out in a good way, not wash out my pale features in the dim lighting.
I’ve never been to O-Ring before, but I’ve heard the line can get crazy. So, I arrive right at eight o’clock, hoping to avoid the masses that come later in the evening. The line is already twenty-five deep in front of the building, but it goes fast. They’re just checking IDs and collecting a $10 cover.
It’s lame that most clubs charge omegas a cover to get in the door when alphas usually have a lot more money and they are always free. But that’s just how the world works. Life is easier for alphas. They have the kind of advantages that omegas never will.
But tonight, that could work out in my favor. Even though there will be hundreds of omegas in here that I’ll be competing for attention with, there won’t be as many as if it were free to get in. It only takes about ten minutes of waiting for me to get inside the club, and as soon as I do, I regret not going about this a different way.
Jimmy forced me to set up an online dating profile, but that felt too…impersonal. For some reason, even though I’m not going to know the last name, or maybe even the first name, of whoever I sleep with tonight, at least we’ll get together because of a mutual attraction and maybe some real conversation.
The online thing just seems so fake to me. Because people can say anything or be anyone behind the anonymity of a screen, it seems like it’d be harder to really get to know someone that way. Maybe I’ll use online dating when I actually start dating, but tonight, I’m going to find myself an alpha and take his knot. I need to just rip the Band-Aid off at once and get it over with.
Knowing it’s going to take quite a bit of liquid courage to get me through this night, I head straight to the bar. A couple alphas give me a quick once over, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. But I keep reminding myself that this is what I came here for.
Instead of getting anxious or fearful of their attention, I need to relax and embrace it. Then use it to my advantage to get what I want tonight.
It takes a few minutes for the bartender to make his way over to me, but I’m grateful for the delay because it gives me time to decide what I want to drink. I need something that will go straight to my veins and give me a cheap buzz… Quick. “What can I get you, doll?”
“A shot of Jaeger with a vodka cranberry chaser, please.”
“You got it, sweetie.” The omega behind the bar winks as he fills up my shot glass then slides it to me before going to make my cocktail.
I take a deep breath then down the shot in one gulp, shaking my head just a little bit at the burn before slamming the glass back down on the counter.
The bartender takes the empty glass away and replaces it with my second drink. “That will be $22.” He licks his lips as he smiles at me, but his eyes quickly move to my left.
“I’ve got this,” a guy says over my shoulder, sliding a couple bills across the counter in front of me.
Startled by his proximity, I shrink back a step as I turn to see who just bought my drink. A tall alpha with blond hair and hazel eyes that are very similar to my own is smiling down at me. “You look like you could use some company tonight.”
God, am I that obvious? “Thanks for the drinks.”
“Of course.” He points to a group of guys sitting at a large booth across the room. “Would you like to join me and my friends?”
There are four other guys at his table, so it’s probably the perfect chance for me to choose an alpha for the night. “Yeah, sure. I can join you for a while.”
The guy’s wide palm spreads across my back as he gently guides me to the table. One of the four guys who’s sitting down slides out so that I can slide in with my new friend beside me. As soon as I realize I’m trapped between three alphas on one side and two on my other, my heart starts to race. This probably wasn’t such a good idea.
When all five sets of eyes shift down to look at my chest, I know they can sense I’m afraid. What’s worse, they seem to like it. The man next to me slips his hand around the back of my neck and rests it there. “So, what’s your name, beautiful?”
I look up at him and clear my throat so it doesn’t squeak. “I’m…Drew.” No one has ever called me Drew, but giving him my real name doesn’t feel right either.
“Well, Drew, I’m Brett and this is…” He turns to his buddy on his left then gives the guy a gentle shove on his shoulder. “Actually, you don’t need to know their names. They’re inconsequential.” Everyone laughs like this is some kind of inside joke, and since I don’t really care about names, I don’t press the issue. They can tell me or not. Doesn’t make any difference to me.
I sip my drink, listening to these guys joke about people I don’t know and video games I’m not in to. Occasionally, Brett looks at me or asks a question, and I mostly smile and nod as my nerves finally start to settle. The guy to my right pulls out some pictures of his dog wearing a life vest, and while I’m cooing over the adorable photo, a round of shots appears at the table. Brett shoves a small glass into my hand and then chats something that I don’t quite catch as everybody takes the shot. Feeling more comfortable than I have all night, I take the shot too, happy to not be stuck buying my own drinks for the time being.
3
Jude
“Dude, Two o’clock.” Red shit has been watching you.
I lift my beer bottle to my lips and casually glance ahead and to the right. The guy Gunnar is referring to is definitely looking at me. Hard. He catches my eye and winks, then before I can even get a good look for myself, he’s already inching forward.
“Thanks a lot, man. Now he’s coming.”
Gunnar grins and taps his bottle to mine. “You’re welcome a lot. See, that’s what a good wing man does. He gets the guys to come to you.”
I roll my eyes and take another swig from the bottle. Just as I empty it, t
he kid in the red shirt appears in front of me.
“Hey, handsome. You want to dance?”
No, actually I don’t. But I’m not here to be a dick. I’m here to find some…I guess. And if this guy has enough balls to ask me to dance, the least I can do is play along for one song. “Sure.”
Reaching for his hand, I gently lead him to a spot at the edge of the dance floor. The song has a fast beat, so it doesn’t take a lot of effort to keep a good rhythm with him. His hands wrap around my biceps and he pulls me down so he can speak in my ear. “I’m Seth.”
“I’m Jude. It’s good to meet you.” While I’m leaning down, I take a whiff of his neck. An omega’s scent is usually strongest right at their pulse points, and it’s one of the fastest ways to judge compatibility.
The scent test isn’t a sure-fire way of knowing if an alpha and omega work together, but I like to use it as a gauge of whether or not it’s worth my time to purse someone. In this case, Seth smells pretty good, but his natural pheromones are masked under cologne. It’s not a deal breaker but I’m not instantly attracted to him. When I pull back and get a better look at him, I feel a little more interested. Seth isn’t bad looking. In fact, he’s kinda hot. His brown hair is shaved on one side and hangs over his eyes on the other. It’s cute. But it’s also young. Like, skater boy in high school kinda young… “How old are you, Seth?”
He waggles his eyebrows and presses his chest to mine, making sure his pelvis quickly follows, rubbing his erection on my thigh. “Old enough that you don’t need to worry about a thing.”
Okay, now we have a deal breaker. I can appreciate coy as much as the next guy, but slutty just doesn’t do it for me. I like to have some kind of challenge and a guy who just throws himself at me, practically humping my leg in the middle of the dance floor just isn’t my idea of a good time. If anything, I just feel sorry for him. And my knot doesn’t pop for pity.