Charles had known his days were numbered from the moment Myron walked into his office. In his mind, it was destiny paying him comeuppance for meddling in its affairs. It didn’t matter to the universe that he was only trying to give his species a future. He was playing God and he was being punished for it.

Of course his time to imprint on an omega would come right when he had reached the apex of his career. Now that all his research and hard work were so close to fruition. If he’d believed in such things, he would’ve thought there was a curse at work. The last board member he’d fired had sure screamed a convincing one on his way out of the building.

Myron Myer, of all people. At least Charles could control his odds of being matched with another Alpha in the program. That would buy him some time to think and stall and hope that Myron was as oblivious to the connection between them as he seemed to be.

The fact that he’d been unable to keep his thoughts on his morning meetings because they kept drifting to the omega downstairs was not boding well for his plan. If he couldn’t get Myron out of his head for a morning, how was he supposed to do it for the year he was contracted to work for the Initiative?

Eventually, he’d had enough. Wondering what Myron was doing, anticipating their post-lunch meeting and obsessing over not knowing whether the omega had changed his mind about the job overnight were all making it impossible to focus. He had to put an end to it.

Then he opened his office door and found them together. Myron and his fucking liaison. Charles was known for being even-keeled, but he experienced every possible note in his surprisingly wide range of emotions in a matter of seconds. At least walking in on this bewildering and confusingly arousing scene quickly disabused him of the notion that he was capable of remaining detached and logical while Myron went about his life.

While Myron fucked other people.

Other omegas.

On his desk.

“Mr. Metcalf!” Andy cried, pulling his pants up and struggling to make himself look like he hadn’t just been bent over his boss’ desk while a perfect stranger railed him from behind. And quite thoroughly, if the noises he’d been making when Charles came into the room were any indication.

Charles wasn’t sure if he was more angry or impressed and reminded himself that he didn’t have the right to be the former.

Well, except for the matter of his carefully organized desk being disturbed by overzealous lovemaking on his property and his dime. That, he felt perfectly justified in being perturbed over.

“I’m so sorry,” Andy gasped, his face the same shade of rose as the flowers he’d somehow failed to knock over on Charles’ desk while Myron hammered into him. He covered his mouth, his hand still trembling with exertion. He was so obviously humiliated and flustered that Charles felt bad for him. He also despised him, but that was hardly Andy’s fault.

Myron, on the other hand, looked more irritated that he’d been interrupted than anything. With some conflicting feelings, Charles noticed the omega was still stiff in his slacks as he buttoned them up. The new hire was well-endowed in sex if not in decency. His eyes shifted away from Charles as he mumbled a half-assed apology.

For a moment, Charles was at a loss for words. He didn’t trust himself to censor the ones on the tip of his tongue so he kept his jaw wired shut and said, “Please give us a moment.”

Myron started to walk toward the door. “Not you,” Charles snapped. “Andy.”

The mortified omega whimpered another gushing apology and scurried out of the room. The door closed and Charles tried to collect his thoughts as he found himself struggling with a problem that was entirely new to him. In his shock, he was hard-pressed to find a way to respond professionally without being influenced by the fact that he’d imprinted on the omega he was supposed to discipline. And he couldn’t exactly be honest with Myron about that, either.

“Sorry about that,” Myron said, speaking up before Charles had the chance. “And your uh, desk. I’ll show myself out.”

Panic immediately outweighed all Charles’ other responses. “What? Why?”

Myron blinked at him. “You walked in on me fucking your secretary. I’m new to the whole spokesman thing, but I’d assume that’s a fireable offense.”

“It certainly is,” Charles muttered, rubbing his forehead. “But I had enough trouble finding you and I’m not inclined to go through the whole process again, so I’m not firing you.”

Myron didn’t need to know that wasn’t on the table for all kinds of other reasons. Not the least of all because the only thing more troubling than being near the omega was the idea of him going back to America.

“You’re not?” Myron frowned. If Charles hadn’t known better, he would have sworn the omega seemed a little disappointed.

“No. I’m… displeased, and we’re going to have a clear understanding that this kind of thing is not going to happen again. But I need you.”

Those words came out much too easily. For a few terrifying seconds, Charles was sure the omega was staring at him the way he was because he knew their true meaning.

“Look, if you’re going to punish anyone, I’d rather it be me than Andy,” Myron said finally. “I’m the one who came onto him.”

Charles swallowed the anger rising up at the omega’s confession. This had to stop. If it didn’t, he was going to lose control. Of his emotions, of his company, of his life. He was not cut out for this. This Alpha-omega chemical emotional nonsense. It was madness, every bit as awful as he’d always imagined it was.

“You’re both adults. It’s highly inappropriate, and I’ll have to burn my desk, but I see no reason to punish anyone so long as it doesn’t happen again. Anyway, the last thing we need is press buzz claiming we don’t allow omegas to have encounters with each other. We’re already controversial enough and they’d certainly find a way to spin that. Just…try to control yourself in the future during office hours.” He frowned. “Is that something you think you can manage?”

The crooked smile on Myron’s lips should have infuriated him, but it had the exact opposite effect. In that moment, Charles knew he was damned. He was damned and Myron was the devil himself, he was sure of it.

“Scout’s honor, boss,” the omega said with a casual salute as he sauntered out of Charles’ office.

“Somehow, I doubt you’re the kind of man who would have stuck through anything so regimented,” Charles called after him.

Myron turned in the doorway, still smirking. “You’re right about that. Anything else?”

“No,” Charles muttered. “That will be all.”

Myron closed the door on his way out. It wasn’t until Charles had finished cleaning up the disheveled papers all over his desk and floor that he remembered he still had a full day of work and meetings ahead of him, and most revolved around getting Myron’s feet wet in the company.

“That bastard,” he muttered, collapsing into his desk chair. The scent of sex was still heavy in the room and Charles realized he was going to get absolutely nothing done as long as he stayed in there. He’d always been a self-described germaphobe, but knowing people had used his desk as a bed wasn’t having the effect on him it should have.

Myron, it seemed, was a most unusual omega and even more unusual was the way Charles felt himself responding to him. He’d been worried about losing yet another spokesman when Myron inevitably became overwhelmed by the demands of the job. Now Charles was worried he wasn’t going to survive Myron’s first week.