Mark

“A full city block is up in flames after arsonists hit another fertility clinic in Old Town earlier today. If you’re taking one of the bridges into the downtown area from the East side this morning, be sure to check your navigation app for any alternate routes. More on local traffic and weather ten minutes after the hour.”

I lay there in bed for another few minutes, trying to wake up and take in the news that was slowly filtering into my brain. I stayed there with my hand on the radio alarm clock and my eyes closed for another few minutes before I could bring myself to move. When I was finally able to open my eyes the light from the room came flooding in. The brightness shot a stabbing pain through my already throbbing head.

I turned my aching head to one side and tried to make out the glowing digital numbers on the clock. 7:45. I was going to be late for work if I didn't get the hell out of bed in five … four … three … two …

I sat up, wincing at the pain, but that sharp, stabbing feeling wasn’t just in my head anymore. There was a new source of discomfort concentrated underneath me. Right where I was sitting, in fact. I rubbed my temples and shook my head and tried to remember what the hell it was that I did last night, and why on earth my ass was so goddamned sore.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and threw the covers off, then stood up and tried to stretch out the ache in my muscles. I moved from side to side, then forward and backward, but nothing seemed to help. I thought maybe a Charlie horse, or a pulled muscle had hit me in the middle of the night. But the thing was, every single one of my muscles felt fatigued and sore. I took a couple of steps and even had trouble picking up my feet so I could get myself across the room. What the hell was going on?

I figured I must be coming down with something. Maybe I’d caught the bug that had been going around all winter. The one that was keeping people in bed for weeks, even sending them to the hospital. When I thought back, I realized I had been feeling a little under the weather this last week. But being sick was the last thing I needed. My precinct was short on men, had been for months. I knew there was no way the captain would let me take any time off. With the rash of fertility clinic arson jobs that had hit the city lately, I sure as hell didn’t want to stay home. I had to make it in, no matter how crappy I felt.

As I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light, I couldn't help but wonder if it was something else, though. Something I'd done last night. I didn’t have a sore throat or a fever, and, the thing was, I couldn’t actually remember how I got home last night. I didn’t remember getting into a fight. And when I looked in the bathroom mirror I didn’t see any scratches or bruises on my face or body.

But when I pulled my boxer briefs down I was kinda freaked out to see that they were damp. Soaked through was really more like it. And I had no idea where the hell all the moisture could have come from since it was all concentrated at the back. I reached around and slid my hand between my ass cheeks to see if I was bleeding or injured in any way, but I couldn’t find anything.

“What the hell?” I said out loud to the mirror as I watched myself twist around futilely to catch a glimpse of my body from behind. It was no good. I couldn't see a thing except for some clear liquid on my hand that smelled … well, it smelled a hell of a lot like come. But that was ridiculous. I was a beta and when I went out looking for some action, I always made it clear that I was a pitcher, not a catcher. There was no way I would have let anyone go there, no matter how drunk I was last night. I closed my eyes and splashed water on my face, trying not to think about why I couldn’t remember a thing.

I turned on the shower and slipped under the stream of hot water. I hoped if I stood there long enough it would help wash away some of the soreness in my muscles, and maybe even the uneasiness I felt bubbling up inside me. I put my head directly under the stream and closed my eyes.

Okay, I thought to myself. Step-by-step. What happened last night?

I remembered getting off work and going out with Landon after our shift was over. He never let me forget that one time I pulled the wrong way into a secured parking lot. I wound up popping all four tires on those metal teeth that you’re not supposed to back up over. Ever since then he’s insisted on driving whenever we’re out on a case. Some days we’d go out in a cruiser, but a lot of the time he picks me up in his own car. He even has a portable flasher that he likes to put up on his roof if we’re after someone. On the days he picks me up, he usually gets me in the morning on the way into the precinct, then brings me home at night.

Yesterday was one of those days. He was driving, so I let him pick the bar. We wound up at one of those omega clubs over on Stark. I remember eating a steak and having a few drinks and the two of us watching some cute omegas strip. Nothing out of the ordinary at all for a Thursday or Friday night. Not even the number of drinks I had, which I wasn’t even sure of at this point.

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, though. I remembered Landon being there and that was about it. For all I knew I could have brought a stranger back here last night. Someone who got up and snuck out of my place before I even got a sober glimpse of him. Even under the soothing warmth of the shower spray, I cringed a little when I thought about the fact that I’d blacked out again.

I had to admit that I’d been letting things get a little out of hand for a while now. Going to bed with too many nameless, faceless men … drinking way too much. Especially on a work night. I didn’t always drink to the point of blacking out, but that was becoming more and more common. And I knew that’s what happened last night. Everything was pretty foggy after that fourth or fifth 151 and Coke I’d downed.

I did remember Landon driving. At least, I remembered being in his car. He hadn't had as much to drink, which was usual. He was always a little more in control than I was. But then again, he was also an alpha. Betas like me could get away with letting things slide here and there. I wasn’t expected to lead or be in command … not like an alpha was, anyway.

But maybe I was fooling myself. I had a feeling I’d been taking advantage of the situation—and of Landon—for a while. I’d been letting him take responsibility for getting my drunk ass home, and I’d been flat-out ignoring his subtle comments and questions about whether I was sure I needed another one for the road.

That wasn’t the only thing I’d been ignoring, though. I’d done a pretty good job for a very long time of pretending I was happy. I’d convinced myself that I didn’t need the kind of stability that came with a relationship. A part of me actually believed that I didn’t care if someone was going to be there when I got home at night. And I’d been completely ignoring how desperately I wanted a warm body to wrap myself around when I woke up in my big bed every morning.

But it wasn’t just any warm body I’d been wanting, even though that’s pretty much how I’d been acting … for years. That this lifestyle—the strip clubs, and open bar tabs, and one-night stands—they were all I needed, instead of the guy who was sitting right next to me through it all. But Landon and I were partners and best friends. End of story.

The thing was, I didn't hate my life by any means, so it had been pretty damned easy to lie and tell myself that I was better off on my own. That’s how I’d always pictured myself anyway. The lone beta cop who could take care of any bad guy that came along, as well as himself. I didn’t ever want to need anyone. In fact, I hated the idea.

But being a cop wasn't exactly as fulfilling as I had imagined it would be when I started on the force five years ago. Not that I regretted it or anything. Far from it. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I loved being a cop. But I felt like I was missing something. And as I stood there with that stream of water beating down on my head, I realized that nights out with random dudes that I picked up at bars and mornings waking up with a hangover didn't seem to be cutting it anymore.

I bobbed my head back and forth under the water, trying to loosen my neck a bit, maybe even jog some more memories loose from last night. That was when an image flashed in my head that caused my eyes to fly open. That couldn't be right, I thought as I stared at the white tiled wall. What the fuck would Landon have been doing with his cock out in the car? I had a clear picture in my head of him holding his very thick manhood at the base—the entire thing sticking up in the air like a goddamned baseball bat.

And the way I remembered his cock seemed crazy—like I was way up close to it. Too close. Why would I remember Landon’s cock right up in my face like that? In all the years we’d known each other, we’d never once fooled around. It’s not that I hadn’t thought about it. Just the opposite. I’d wondered what his cock looked like every single day since our first shift working together. Not to mention what his lips tasted like. He was just about the hottest alpha I’d ever seen in my life.

But I knew he needed an omega to give him things that I couldn’t. So, whenever the subject came up I told him that I wasn’t into alphas, and that was mostly true. I knew that I could never be the omega that most alphas were looking for, so I made it simple for everyone. I picked up other betas at the bars we frequented, and occasionally an omega that was up for a one-night stand, but I stayed away from alphas.

And so far, that seemed to be working for me.

I quickly soaped up and rinsed my body off, trying very unsuccessfully to wash away the feeling of fear that was rising from the pit of my stomach. The feeling that I’d done something really stupid last night. And that it had to do with Landon.

I was still in a daze when I pulled on my jeans and a T-shirt—then slid my holster over my shoulders. But as I threw on my leather jacket and headed out the door, that image hit me again and I stopped cold. I shook my head and I told myself that it had to be a dream. That's all it was. Some alcohol-induced hallucination that my brain cooked up in my sleep.

But as I shut the apartment door behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling of how real it all felt—but not just the memory. Something I hadn’t even been able to admit to myself while I was in the shower.

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the weight and heft of Landon’s cock in my hand. I could feel his smooth skin. I could smell his earthy aroma. And even though I’d brushed my teeth and had a cup of coffee, I could actually taste him in my mouth. The deep, musky flavor was similar to Landon’s scent, only a thousand times stronger. And that aroma was burned into my brains because it was one that has made my head spin ever since the moment we met five years ago.

I opened my eyes and swallowed hard. Landon’s cock had been in my mouth last night. And that was a thought that both terrified me and completely took my breath away.