Sitting across from Jordan at the bar, I couldn’t help but stare. Though I was nervous about trusting an alpha again after Roy, something about him was different. He was, no-doubt a playboy and a flirt. I already knew that. But something about the way he looked at me was…soft, compassionate, attentive.

Roy had never looked at me like that. Instead, he treated me like a checkmark on his list of achievements. Law school: Check. Job at a good firm: Check. Nice house: Check. Omega whom he could walk all over: Check.

But what about my job? There’s no way I could morally stay at this company AND be with Jordan. I would have to quit…but I couldn’t afford to quit, especially not for another relationship. It would be like begging to be walked over again. Still, while I hadn’t even considered being in another relationship anytime in the near future, Jordan was making it quite tempting. Something about him drew me close, like magic. He defied my sound logic, that was for sure.

Jordan was coolly jiggling the ice around his now-empty gin and tonic. He was so fucking sexy in his blazer and his slightly slicked back hair; the curves of his square-shaped jaw moving up and down as his nibbled on an ice chip. I was just about to go to the bar to order myself another vodka soda, but before I could get up from my seat, Jordan popped up.

“Mason, did you want something else from the bar?”

“Jesus, Jordan…did this place hire you as wait staff and you didn’t tell us?” It was Avery, a marketing strategist, whom I could already tell tried to get ‘in’ with the crowd by cracking stupid jokes at someone else’s expense.

“Yeah, Avery. They were short staffed because they fired your mom a few days ago for offering $20 hand jobs with each cocktail,” quipped Jordan. The whole table burst into laughter, including myself. As I tried to catch my breath, a slight sharpness began to take a hold of my lower abdomen.

Oh no.

Moments later I began to break out in a cold sweat with the pain gaining momentum.

Not yet. This isn’t supposed to start for a few days!

My heat was beginning early, likely due to my attraction to Jordan. Even though my mind knew better than to start something with him quite yet, my body wasn’t getting the message. Next, my head began to throb. Fuck, this was worse than normal. I had to get out quick and head to Hamilton House.

“Here’s your vodka sod….Mason, what’s wrong?” Jordan crouched down next to me. Thankfully the rest of our group was about three drinks in and completely lost (or at least pretending to be) in Dominic’s story about his first wife.

“I…I think I’m starting my heat now.” I whispered.

Jordan’s eyes widened. He knew that if he didn’t get me into solitude fast, I ran the risk of being pounced on (literally) by other alphas. My scent hadn’t yet become strong enough to indicate my state to those around me, but it wouldn’t be long.

Jordan jumped into immediate action. “Dominic, I just remembered that I’ve got to get these documents to Lundenberg tonight. I’m taking Mason with me to make sure I’ve followed all of the HR protocol.” At the same time as he said this, Jordan was grabbing my arm and lifting me to my feet. He had a determined look in his eyes that, despite my state of continuing decline, I found extremely sexy.

Before our party even had the chance to respond, we were already out the door.

“Come on, my car is right over here.” By this point I was bearing most of my weight on Jordan as he dragged me across the street towards his Mercedes. However, before we got there I felt someone grab my waist, pulling me away from Jordan and I found myself face-to-face with a muscular bald man, slightly resembling Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“Hey, hey…where are you going so fast, baby?” He said. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. All of a sudden he let out a wail before plummeting to the ground. Jordan was right behind him, his pointer finger and thumb placed strategically around the man’s neck.

“Stay the fuck away from him.” Jordan whispered to the man before scooping me back up and placing me gently in the passenger seat. As we drove away I could see the man still on the ground in the rear view mirror.

“What did you do to him?”

“I just let him know that he does not touch another man’s omega.”

Another man’s omega? HIS Omega? Did he meant to say that? What if I was his omega?

As we were quietly seated at a stoplight, I placed my hand on his face and slowly ran it over his cheek, his stubble tickling the tips of my fingers. He reached up and intertwined his fingers in mine and then turned his face to kiss my palm, sending a quiver down my arm.