My phone buzzed for the third time that morning. Michael, an alpha ex-client, was trying to Facetime me. Again.

He couldn’t seem to get it through his head that I fuck for money. I wasn’t his omega.

We weren’t mated. It didn’t mean anything. That was the whole point.

No strings attached, guaranteed. Most alphas liked that — it was my business model, after all — but Michael had, unfortunately, gotten attached.

Sometimes, alphas had a hard time letting go. Sometimes it took a few minutes for them to resist the primal urge to claim me. That never bothered me, but I’d never seen a case like this.

It had been three months, and I was still trying to shake Michael off. And omegas had a reputation for being clingy…

I had been sleeping in my wolf form, enjoying the natural warmth of my fluffy, light grey and tan coat of fur, but that form didn’t have opposable thumbs, which was a major disadvantage. I shifted back into my human form and hit ignore.

Climbing out of bed, I stretched my tanned, naked body in the mirror. I ran my fingers through my short, dirty blond hair. It was a mess. Sliding my hand down my cheek, I could feel that I needed a shave before I saw the potential client I had lined up for the day.

Some posh-sounding dude with a blended accent, British, maybe, had called me the day before. He wanted to meet in the afternoon for coffee.

“I need to hire an omega for appearances. There won’t be any sex involved,” he’d said.

I did my best to hold back a snort. Yeah. Sure. Like that was ever true. Every single one of my clients fucked me—whether they were hiring me for it or not.

My feet slapped the hardwood floor of my apartment as I made my way into the bathroom. Toilet, teeth, shower, shave; the routine was so normal to me that I did it half asleep. Living alone had its benefits—my morning was never disturbed.

As if to prove me wrong, my phone rang on my bed. Goddamnit. I growled in annoyance.

So much for a peaceful morning. Instead, it seemed, I was bound to be harassed for the next few months—it looked like I’d finally managed to win myself a stalker. It had been naive of me, I supposed, to think it would never happen, considering my line of work.

I barely had to look to know it was Michael. With a sigh, I put my phone on vibrate and tossed it back onto the bed to get dressed. This Chase guy sounded expensive, so I dressed up a little, tugging on a blazer over my usual khakis and blue button-down.

I looked a bit like I belonged in prep school, which was perfect. If appearances really were the point, I wanted to assure my rich client I wouldn’t embarrass him in public.

It was hard for me to believe that anyone could want me for more than sex, though—especially with that greased-up, hot-and-horny ad he must have found. I was really the guy he wanted to show off?

The bed vibrated. I grabbed my phone and shoved it in my pocket on the way out the door. Michael was just going to have to learn to let go the hard way. I wasn’t going to answer.

I was meeting the client at a quiet café downtown, only a few blocks from my apartment. As I approached, I had to pause in the doorway. I hadn’t seen a picture of Chase, but I didn’t need to.

The guy was so obviously an alpha that my mouth watered. Big and broad and dark, with an aura that said he could destroy me if he wanted to.

Which he didn’t, apparently. It wasn’t about sex. Or so he said. I sincerely doubted it.

I took a deep breath as I walked over to the gorgeous alpha, and I was glad I’d dressed up. He wore a full suit like he lived in it. He looked more expensive than most of my clients, more expensive than anyone I’d ever met, in fact.

There was a weird feeling in my gut as I approached him; my abs clenched and rocked like I was on a roller coaster. But I was just standing, or trying to stand, anyway; my knees were weak, my legs wobbly. Every single hair on my body stood on end, and my inner wolf howled some deep, lonely song that I could only faintly hear.

Mostly, I couldn’t make out anything over the whoosh in my head, which I quickly realized was blood rushing to my ears, heightening even my supernatural shifter senses. My stomach lurched, my veins burned, and I almost turned and ran, because the feeling was like nothing I’d ever known — or wanted.

It was exactly what I avoided, what I had never experienced with any alpha. But I couldn’t turn. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t make my feet move to do it; instead, I felt pulled toward him by some invisible force.

Chase blinked and swallowed as he looked up at me, like he was feeling it, too. His eyes were bright, pupils dilated, and his hands clenched into fists. As he licked his lips, I was drawn to their fullness, and their natural pink.

I had heard somewhere that the skin of a man’s lips matched the hue of his cock, and I had been testing that theory ever since. Chase’s posture was so naturally dominant and well-bred; but when I came near him, he moved in his seat, like I had put him off guard just with my presence.

Alphas and omegas were normally attracted to each other; that wasn’t strange, but this intensity wasn’t like anything I’d felt with another alpha, and I was guessing Chase hadn’t planned on it, either. This was something more intense than that.

Trying to seem cool, and not let him see me trembling, I moved for a seat. He quickly stood and reached for my hand, and I noticed the expensive gold Rolex on his wrist.

How was it that even his wrist and forearm were sexy to me? I wanted to push up the sleeve of his shirt, just to see more of his strong muscles.

“Chase Cartwright,” he introduced himself. “A pleasure.”

He had such a deep, soothing voice, and God, that accent. That accent. Somewhat American, but then sometimes he sounded completely British. I tried not to let it shake me.

“Riley,” I said, and accepted his hand, shaking it firmly. Chase’s jaw twitched, like he was feeling something more than the press of our palms.

Then, to my surprise, he pulled out my seat for me, which was something none of my dates (if what I did could be considered dating) had ever done.

Who had raised this handsome, rich alpha? And why the hell didn’t he have an omega of his own?

I sat down and pulled myself together, giving him a flirtatious smile. “All right, Chase. Let’s get to business. What did you have in mind?”

“I need you to come up to my summer house for a weekend and pretend to be my boyfriend, possibly my mate. We’ll play it by ear.

“My father wants to set me up with one of his business partner’s sons. I need to avoid that at all costs,” he said, with an air of seriousness that made me smile.

It was hard to even focus on what Chase was saying. He was annoyingly distracting, with his dark eyes and full mouth and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. There was just something about him that made me flushed all over.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to cut and run, or climb into his lap right there in the café, but the vivid fantasies running through my mind weren’t helping me pay attention.

Chase went on about the details, offering me an obscene amount of money. There was a power to him, something innate and strong, and my blood got hotter every time he shifted in his seat, muscles unsheathing, his suit doing very little to hide his broad, buff body. I was dying to see what was underneath.

The whole pimp-daddy thing with Chase’s father sounded sort of gross to me. I might be a prostitute, but at least I picked my own clients. On the other hand, I liked the sound of the cash. There was a new car I had my eye on that would be impossible without Chase Cartwright’s rather large “donation.”

What I really wanted was his large something else. I was sure he’d be huge. The curve of his fingers around his coffee cup made me think about how big his hands were, and if he had big hands, he probably had a big knot.

The thought did awkward things to my groin, and I had to adjust my blazer to cover the growing evidence. Clients rarely got me fired up like this, especially clients who weren’t even going to fuck me, which I finally thought Chase might be serious about. Why was I so disappointed?

I’d actually really been looking forward to getting fucked by this guy. I loved a hot alpha knot, pretty much any time, any day, but Chase was especially drool-worthy, and the power he would have over me when he pinned me to the bed and tore open my omega ass was something I’d be thinking about for days to come.

I cleared my throat, but didn’t say anything, and he must have felt I was taking too long to consider my answer, because he went on, trying to reassure me of all the wrong things.

“I want to assure you again, I’m not paying you for sex, Riley. In fact, I’m mostly hiring you for your acting ability. If that’s not a job you find yourself suited for--”

“I’ll do it,” I told him quickly. I had already decided, but forgotten to tell him. I was too busy fighting with myself, because I wanted to tell him he could have me. It’s okay, I wanted to say, you can fuck me; I specialize in not making it heavy.

But the words died in my throat, and the consultation was over. We stood again, and Chase handed me a hefty cash deposit in a plain envelope. As I accepted it, our fingers brushed, and the shock was so intense I looked down to see if there were sparks.

He opened the door for me on the way out of the café, and then, with only one look back toward me, slipped into a waiting limo and disappeared into the city.

It had been a weird fucking experience, that was for sure. I was left practically panting for it, craving a thick alpha knot. I didn’t know what to do with the uncomfortable erection he’d given me, but I gripped the cash in my hand tightly.

I had a weekend getaway to plan, and I would need something to wear that was a little nicer than khakis, if I had to impress Chase’s parents and sell myself as a long-term boyfriend. It was time to go shopping.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed, and I lifted it to see 16 missed call attempts from Michael. I hadn’t even noticed the persistent humming on my thigh. Chase had kept me distracted the entire time we’d been together.