“Thank you for… for tonight. This was really great. S-sorry I got quiet, I’m just… um… awkward.” And then he looks out the window and sees where we are. “This isn’t the hotel,” he says flatly.
“No, it’s not.” I step around the car and open his door, take his hand, and help him out.
He blushes again.
God as my witness, I am going todevourthis omega. Eventually.
His eyes glitter as he takes in the building. “It’s like a palace…”
“It used to be.”
“What is it now?”
“A casino.”
“Why are we at a casino?”
“Because you dressed too pretty to take you home yet,” I croon, relishing the shiver that runs through him. “And because I like to gamble.”
Jamie hesitates. “What about… HR?”
“I’ll deal with HR.”
Jamie’s eyes narrow, but a whisper of a smile pulls at his perfect lips. “Why does that sound vaguely threatening?”
A flash a grin that shows off my pointed canines. “Because it is. Now, c’mon.” I loop his arm through mine and pull him inside, and I receive no further complaints.
My plan has two main pillars. The first is taking what Gia described as a ‘fatally irresponsible’ dose of suppressants—though not a whole bottle this time—and the second is minimizing exposure to Jamie’s scent, which is what triggers me like nothing else.
The cliff-side restaurant had a stiff sea breeze and a competing scent of its own, which is why I could risk being so close to him.
And though it’s indoors, casino air circulation is nearly asgood. The cigar a staff member places in my hand a minute later helps too. They know me on sight—I nod, and they deliver the chips in my usual quantity.
Jamie’s eyes are wide as I lead him through the casino.
“I thought this was only a thing in James Bond,” he murmurs.
I chuckle. “You’re cute.”
A gorgeous waitress comes up and asks for our drink orders.
“Lagavulin, neat.” It’s a good night for scotch.
Jamie freezes.
“He’ll take a cocktail,” I say. “Balanced, but on the sweet side. Gin. Bonus points for floral notes.”
The waitress nods and steps away.
“Isn’t there like… a menu?” he mutters.
I shrug. “I’m sure there is, somewhere.”
“What if you order something they don’t have?”
I chuckle. “Then they’ll get it. And if they can’t, they should be smart enough to apologize profusely.”
Jamie half-rolls his eyes. “So what, I could just be like, ‘Bring me McDonalds’ and some poor soul has to—”
