Page 20 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

I was supposed to think of a clever comeback, I was sure, but all the blood in my body was rushing southward. I didn’t think I could be blamed for that: there was an omega grinding his cute ass against me, and my jeans were rubbing against my rapidly hardening dick in all the right ways.

Instead of answering, I clutched at Wyatt’s hips. I might not have ever thought of this on my own, but I wasn’t going to say no to it.

“Are you good with catching?”

I screwed my eyes shut, then shook my head. “Sorry, what?” It was my turn to glare. “Did you seriously just use a baseball analogy?”

Wyatt frowned. “I, uh—”

“And I thought that was covered by topping?” Oh heck. I hadn’t thought of that. I was an alpha. I’d never …

Wyatt snorted, and when I looked up at him, he was smirking. “I know this place is a backwater,” he said, “but do you really not have the internet?”

“Of course we have the internet,” I scoffed.

“Then why do you sound like you live under a rock?”

I caught his hand and glowered. “I’m the one living under a rock? You didn’t even know about shifters.”

“That doesn’t count,” he protested. Even as he was protesting, he was yanking his shirt off, revealing swaths of pale skin.

He was … scrawny. Gangly, almost. Like a teenage boy who still hadn’t fully grown into his frame, except Wyatt was a vet and that meant he’d likely finished some kind of college degree, so he wasprobably…

Ah, hell, I’d better ask. I slid my hands up his sides, thumbing over his ribs. He was thin. “How old are you?”

He blinked. “Are you kidding me?” he snorted.

“I’m serious,” I returned, still stroking his sides. “I mean, I’m guessingold enough, but you know what assuming does.”

He cracked the hint of a grin. “Old enough to have a pile of school debt,” he said, almost bitterly.

“And a fancy degree,” I offered.

His expression softened a little. “Yeah.”

I nodded. “I just … wanted to be sure.”

He inhaled. “What, so you shifters don’t just jumpomegaswho are ‘in heat’?”

Oh, I did not like that tone. He was being snarky—borderline rude. Like he wanted to insult me. “Heck no,” I said, as honestly as I could. The very idea was offensive. “We’re not completely feral. We have rules. Morals.”

He laughed a little, then hung his head. “Sorry. I just …”

I hesitated, then slowly brought my hand up to cup his cheek. “I get it. It’s … a lot, isn’t it?”

He nodded. I hesitated again. I was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure he was an omega and that he was in heat. As an alpha, my job was tohelphim through that heat, and by most standards, that meant fucking him silly.

But right now, I wasn’t sure if maybe what Wyatt needed was something else. He’d just discovered shifters existed, just beentold about omegas and alphas, and I didn’t know if he even believed me about the fact he was in heat.

“Wyatt … if you … need some time, or you’re not ready, or … we can wait.”

God, it almost physically hurt to say that. I wanted him. Scratch that, Ineededhim, and my dick throbbed miserably with the idea that I might not get laid tonight.

But I wanted to be a good alpha. I needed to be a good alpha—and a good alpha didn’t do just whatever they needed. A good alpha was attuned to their omega, anticipating their needs and fulfilling those before the alpha’s own.

Wyatt’s head jerked up, and something like fury snapped in his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled, and heat surged through me. He glanced down again, hands tearing at the waistband of my borrowed jeans. “You said you were so horny you ran five fucking miles to get laid. Get these pants offnow, Cameron, before I tear you out of them.”

I choked back a laugh, slowly lowering my hands to do his bidding. “Yessir.”