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“I suppose you could say that,” I tease back with a wink. Shit. Am I flirting with my doctor? The thought has me dipping my head nervously as he continues taking care of my injuries.
Once Dr. Em finishes with the cuts on my face, chest, and arms, he straightens his white coat and settles on his rolling stool to work on my feet and legs. His touch is but a brush of a feather, almost reverent, and my skin is ablaze from the fireworks sparking between us. I’m surprised he’s able to remain so calm with the amount of perfume I’m putting out. Every now and then I swear he inhales deeply, like he’s enjoying it.
I’m dreading when Dr. Em gets to my feet. They’re so scraped and raw, I know it won’t be a fun experience to have him poking and prodding them. When he sees them, he lets out a breath. “Why?” The word is barely audible and his chest rumbles again.
I wince when he starts, and he immediately pulls back. “I didn’t have time to throw my shoes on.”
His gaze finds mine, regret swimming in their depths, and he clears his throat. “I apologize, Verity. This will hurt, but I need to get you bandaged so they don’t get infected.”
“Do your worst, Dr. Em. I’ll be fine.” My reassurance doesn’t seem to help him much as his lips press into a thin line.
Okay, he wasn’t kidding when he said it would hurt. My feet feel like they’re on fire. It’s taking everything in me not to howl in pain.
A whimper escapes me, and Dr. Em sees my expression, biting his lip. “Just a bit more, Little Omega. Can you do that for me?” A purr emanates from his chest and it calms the omega in me instantly. My legs relax and I lean a little further back. “Good girl.”
I barely hold back my groan, but this time it’s not from the pain in my feet. My gaze stays fixed on his stunning face. The chiseled angle of his jaw clenches, and his dark brow furrows, creating a cute wrinkle right between his eyebrows as he concentrates on my feet. The care he puts into keeping his touch as soft as possible makes me feel safe. Relaxed even, for the first time today.
The more I focus on his face, the more I’m able to ignore the pulse throbbing in my feet. Before I know it, he’s securing a clean bandage around each foot. When he’s done, his warm palms rest on the back of my calves. The heat from his touch sinks into my muscles, making me realize how much I ache.
He stands, ending up right between my legs, and his nose drops toward my neck as he inhales my scent deeply, like he can’t get enough. I open my mouth to speak, but he presses a finger against my lips. “We’ll be spending quite a fair amount of time together while your season is airing. I don’t want to spend all that time bandaging you, all right? My alpha tendencies rebel over the thought of my little omega getting hurt.”
I suck in a sharp breath at his claim of my. It has my lips slightly parting against his finger, and I can’t stop my tongue from darting out to taste him. His eyes light in response, but before I can dissect what it is exactly, a throat clears from the doorway.
“So, you’re the doctor, huh?” Ryland saunters in and Dr. Em and I break apart. Ry possessively places his hand on my shoulder. “Glad someone is taking care of your wounds for you,” he says, eyeing the doctor with suspicion. His nostrils flare, scenting our attraction to one another, though it’s probably not as potent for him since he’s a beta.
“Of course. My duties throughout Verity’s season will be to attend to all her needs, whatever they may be.” Dr. Em turns his back to us and moves to a counter where several items are placed on a tray. From the movement of his shoulders, it appears he’s taking several deep breaths. I need to take some calming ones myself. My cheeks are on fire, and I know it’s because it feels like we got caught doing something we shouldn’t.
All of a sudden, the world knows I’m an omega, and I can’t help but act like every alpha I encounter is meant to be with me. First the twins and now a doctor. It’s not like anything magically changed in me between this morning when I woke up to now. Fucking omega hormones. Maybe he has a pill to make them simmer the fuck down.
When Dr. Em turns around, he seems to have slipped his demanding alpha traits into their place, becoming the medical professional he’s supposed to be. “Unfortunately, you might find the cleaning of your wounds to be the more pleasant part of this process.” He winces, and my nerves kick up another notch.
That sounds ominous. How is there something worse than cleaning my wounds? He places the tray on a rolling stand and takes his seat on the stool. My pear scent turns sour from my slight panic and he notices, placing a warm hand on top of mine. Somehow, his touch makes me feel better.
Ryland speaks before he can say anything. “Explain. You’re upsetting her.” There’s a bite to his words, almost alpha-like, and it makes warmth expand in my chest. Standing up to an alpha is hard for betas, but Ryland’s not playing around. He never does when it comes to me.
Dr. Em frowns. “I apologize for frightening you, Miss Graves.” Some of the warmth seeps back into his tone, and his chocolatey scent wraps me in its embrace. “I promise I’ll explain every step of the process to the best of my ability.” He reaches for the rolling stand and brings it closer. Thankfully, he uses the hand not grounding me. I’m not comfortable admitting how much I need his touch right now.
“Hey, look at me,” he encourages, squeezing my hand. “Everything will work out. Take a few deep breaths with me.” I follow his lead, taking in slow breaths before releasing them. After a bit, I start to feel better. The pressure on my chest releases and my throat doesn’t feel like someone’s fist is pinching it closed. “There we go, Little Omega. That’s it.” He smiles at me, and it’s so brilliant, I can’t help but return my own.
“Thank you,” I choke out. “I’m a little on edge today and uncertain about the details.” Man, I wish I would’ve paid more attention to the omega handbook. I’ve never once wanted this life for myself. The glitz, the glam, and the attention that comes along with being on Heat Paradise. It’s not what I wanted for myself, so I never studied up on the process, which I could kick myself for now.
“The first thing we need to discuss is birth control. It’s completely voluntary, but I highly suggest it.”
I don’t even have to think about my answer. “Yes, absolutely, give me the birth control. I don’t even want babies once I have a pack. Starting on birth control now seems like the best idea.”
Dr. Em gives me an understanding nod and reaches for an instrument on the cart. “You have a few options, but the one I suggest to my patients is the implant. You don’t have to worry about forgetting to take a pill, and it’s tamper proof.” He gives the slightest shudder. “You don’t want to know what some alphas will do to get what they want.”
Too true, my friend. “Sounds good to me.”
“Okay, now, I have to ask. Are you sexually active?”
My cheeks burn. Most of my peers have lost their V-card at this point in their lives, but I simply haven’t found the right one to give it up to. Now I have to worry about accidentally sleeping with one of the contestants and getting pregnant? Is that a thing?
Ry gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, like he senses the direction of my thoughts. “Not at the moment, no,” I respond.
“That’s perfectly fine,” Dr. Em all but chokes out, his voice strained. The purr emanating from deep in his chest gives his alpha thoughts away, though.
“I will do my best to make sure your heat doesn’t sneak up on us, but it does happen from time to time, which is why you will be given a heat suppressant from me periodically. With you being around so many alphas daily, sometimes it can make your heat come on sooner.”
