When an Omega Snaps (2 page)

What a perfect mess that woman made of his calm mind.

The encounter with Meena had left a taste in Leo’s mouth—not a bad one. On the contrary, he could still taste the pink bubblegum flavor. Yummy. Almost as yummy as the feel of her in his arms, all those curves for him to hold. He did so like a woman with meat on her bones.

Just not this woman.

Mate indeed. He snorted again as he walked the few blocks to the steakhouse he liked to frequent. While Leo was a good cook, there were times he enjoyed letting someone else do the work. Especially times like these when his usually calm and orderly emotions were in a rare turmoil.

As Meena bounced off, he watched the waggle of her ass with way more interest than he should have. To his annoyance, his interest was noted and teased upon by the remaining pride ladies lounging in the reception area. He’d not found their ribald and impromptu song entertaining at all. “Leo and Meena sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-NG.” Fighting a blush, he’d bellowed “Behave!” to get them to stop and then glared at them for good measure until they scattered.

But the damage was done. The song spun around in his head. Dammit.

Needing to work off the adrenaline in his body, Leo took the stairs instead of the elevator, pounding the steps, three at a time. By the time he’d reached his floor, without breaking a sweat, or breathing hard, he’d almost managed to temper the urge to stalk her down.

Almost.

His inner feline on the other hand sulked. Mentally giving him the cold shoulder, his inner liger didn’t understand why they weren’t hunting the female with the incredible scent.

Because we don’t go looking for trouble.

Entering his condo, a serene space with a muted color palette—or as Luna called it, “B-o-r-i-n-g.”—he kicked off his shoes and made himself a nice cup of green mint tea. And no, it wasn’t sissy. Just ask Hayder, who’d made the mistake of taunting him, only to gasp for breath as Leo timed a perfect shot to his diaphragm. As Leo explained to the pride’s beta while he recovered, “This tea helps focus the mind, which, in turn, gives me great aim.”

Distraction. That was what he needed right now, so he could forget how those plump lips tasted or how Meena’s luscious body felt wrapped around him.

Grabbing a hardcover by a favorite author that he’d started a few days previous, he tried to read but couldn’t focus. Instead of seeing words, he saw the curve of her lips and the sparkle in her eyes. His cock hardened in remembrance of her heat pressing against him, the hint of her musk surrounding him, begging him to touch and pleasure and…

Despite an urge to throw the book, he placed his bookmark back within its crisp pages and placed it on the table, perfectly aligned with the edge.

Since concentration on written words proved impossible, he resorted to cleaning, but everything in his place was spotless. Yes, he was a compulsive neat freak. At the moment, the only dirty thing around was his mind. Oh, the things he wanted to do to that vexing woman.

But wouldn’t.

Focus
.

The lotus position comprised of legs crossed, elbows on his knees, eyes closed while emitting a low hum didn’t help him to regain his serenity. With all his usual tricks failing, he resorted to the one that never failed.

Food.

Hence why he found himself outside, just as twilight fell, on his way to the best steakhouse in the city. Owned by the pride of course. Lions knew their meat. Looking for a steak, cooked rare with just the right hint of seasoning, a dribble of red-wine-reduced sauce, a double baked stuffed potato, and a side order of sautéed vegetables drizzled in butter sauce? Then get your ass to A Lion’s Pride.

His liger, usually a calm fellow, couldn’t help a mental twitch of his tail. But it had less to do with the idea of food than the fact that his nose caught a hint of a scent. A certain bubblegum, womanly, oh-shit-she’s-here scent.

Luckily the place was huge, and Leo wasn’t a coward. He wouldn’t run. Chances were this Meena girl had forgotten him by now. And if she hadn’t, he’d set her straight—and by straight he didn’t mean to his room.

The maître’ d smiled when he saw him. “Leo, how nice of you to join us. Shall I have the kitchen prepare your usual?”

“Yes, please.”

“Unfortunately, your preferred table is currently occupied. Actually the entire dining side is fully booked. But I do have a booth on the bar side that will accord you some privacy.” How well Othiel knew him.

The leather-wrapped booth was tucked against the wall and high backed. It didn’t prevent the noise from flowing over him, but he tolerated it. The low-pitched hum of many voices interspersed with laughter meant people were getting along and having a good time.

No need to omega their asses into behaving.

Not that he’d resort to his
voice,
not in public especially, or around humans. The world wasn’t quite ready to discover furry shifters lived and worked among them.

Many of his kind had worried that, with the advent of digital cameras and social media, their secret would become harder to keep.

Wrong.

Social media, special effects, and a need to prove things wrong meant it was easier than ever to explain away strange wild animal sightings in urban areas. Saw a lion walking down the alley? It was some guy on his way to a costume party. Someone uploaded a video of a pair of wolves battling it out in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour burger joint on a full moon? Obviously a prank animation created by a teen with too much time and computer power at his hands.

Hiding in plain sight had never been easier, but some, like Leo, preferred to stay away from crowds or large gatherings. He had his reasons. Ostracized at a young age by his peers because he was a hybrid—a liger, half-lion, half-tiger—led to him being somewhat shy. It didn’t help that he proved an easy target to pick on. Back then, he was but a puny boy with a mother who advocated talking it out. Yeah, talking didn’t work well against fists so he often came home with black eyes and loose teeth.

When he hit his teenage years and went through a massive growth spurt, he suddenly found that those who’d once taunted him were now quite eager to engage in discourse instead of fisticuffs. But since Leo knew some of them were hard of hearing, and even more inept at understanding, he sometimes reinforced his oral lessons on proper manners with a well-aimed fist or two.

Spare the fist, raise a rude shifter. Or so his grandma used to say.

When he graduated high school—with honors of course—he left home and attended university, where he met Arik and Hayder. Despite his desire for quiet, the pair seemed determined to drag him along and embroil him in their messes.

To his surprise he enjoyed mediating their dilemmas and, more astonishing, despite their chaotic nature, enjoyed their company. With them, he felt at home. Accepted.

After university, they went their separate ways, Arik to work for the pride’s export business along with Hayder while Leo enrolled for a time with a private company specializing in security. Some might have called his work with them mercenary. Others spying. He called it experience and a paycheck. But he didn’t love it enough to stay when Arik asked him to join his pride and act as their official omega. An omega’s role was as peacemaker in the pride. He was supposed to be the voice of reason, the mediator, the calm one. The one everyone dumped their shit on and demanded help fixing.

He almost said no. Surrounded twenty-four-seven by people, in the city? He was all set to reject the offer when Arik insisted he come meet the pride. The entire clan was gathering for a wedding, a great time for him to meet and get a feel for the folks Arik presided over.

Except Leo never made it to the wedding reception. He made it as far as the hall outside the giant ballroom, where tiny sniffles led him to a little boy, a lion by scent, hiding in a utility closet.

Upon opening the door, he’d dropped to his haunches to bring himself eye level with the quivering lad.

“What’s wrong?” For some reason, while adults eyed Leo askance because of his size, women and children always took to him.

This child was no different. “Rory and Callum took my tablet.”

And judging by his slight frame, the young boy didn’t think he could get it back.

It brought back memories of a time when Leo had to fend for himself against bullies, in a pride where the omega couldn’t be bothered to mediate for children, especially not a half-breed one.

In that moment, Leo made up his mind. Here, he could make a difference. He could provide resolution for those needing an advocate, rules to keep the peace, and eat steak any damned day he liked. Yeah, Arik bribed him by taking him to A Lion’s Pride and promising he’d always have a free meal if he would only agree to stay.

Throw in a condo and Leo had never left.

He also made Arik regret his decision to give him free food. Leo had a healthy appetite. He took total advantage, but while he didn’t have to pay, he did tip well, though, so the staff loved him.

Nursing a tall glass of milk—a liter-sized beer stein since Leo took his health seriously—he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, inhaling the mouth-watering scents of food cooking.

His head snapped as a decadent aroma plopped itself down across from him.

“Pookie! I knew you’d come find me.” Meena beamed at him from across the table.

His cock tried to wave hello, but he jammed a fist down on his lap. “I came for dinner.”

“Dinner? Oooh. I do so love a man who likes to
eat
.” She winked.

He fought a blush. Him. A blush. What the hell? “Shouldn’t you return to your friends?” Before he did something crazy like invite her back to his place for dessert.

“They can wait while I have dinner with my Pookie. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be rude on our first date.”

“This is not a date.”

“And yet, there’s you, me, and food!” She clapped as she exclaimed the last word, probably because the server arrived bearing a massive platter laden with a ridiculously large steak and all the fixings.

Before he’d finished saying thank you to Claude for being so prompt with his meal, she’d sawed off a piece of his porterhouse and popped it in her mouth. As she chewed, eyes closed, she made happy noises.

Noises that should not be allowed in public.

Noise she should make only while he touched her.

Noises that made him snap, “Do you mind? This is my supper.”

“Sorry, Pookie. That was so rude of me. Here, have a bite.” The next piece of steak she cut she offered on the tines of her fork, a fork that had touched her lips.

Refuse. We don’t share. We—

He devoured it, the bite an absolute delight. Juicy, a slight hint of salt and garlic, butter-soft to chew. His turn to sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Make that noise again,” she growled.

He glanced at her and noticed she stared at his mouth, avidly. Hungrily…

It was both flattering and disturbing. He needed to stop this. Right now. “If you don’t mind, I would prefer to eat alone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone. While I am complimented by your interest in me, I’m afraid you’re mistaken about everything else. We are not on a date. We are not mates. We are nothing. Zilch. Nada.” No point in sugarcoating it. Best to lay it all out now before she got any further with this crazy idea they belonged together.

But we do belong to her.

Leo ignored his inner feline as he waited for her outburst. Women never took rejection well. Either they resorted to tears and wailing, or they resorted to screaming and ranting.

But honesty was best.

However, Meena didn’t react as expected. Her lips stretched into a full grin, her eyes sparkled, and she leaned forward—pressing her breasts together, causing her neckline to droop and give him a peek at the shadowy valley they created. “Resistance is futile. But cute. Think of me later when you’re masturbating, I know I’ll be thinking of you.”

With a last stolen bite of his dinner, she popped up from her seat and sashayed to the bar.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

Pfft. He was a cat. Of course he looked, and admired the hypnotic swish of her ass.

She’d taken his rejection a lot better than expected, even if her method was complete denial. However, he appreciated her not making a scene and allowing him to finish his meal in peace, a peace shattered as he enjoyed a hot cocoa with his dessert.

“Do it! Do it!” The raucous laughter from the bar, followed by some shrill shrieks, cut through the gentle buzz of the crowd.

Used to loud women by now—the pride ladies not exactly the quietest sort—he ignored the din as he savored the creamy caramel decadence drizzled atop the moist brownie.

The noise at the bar grew louder. He abstained from craning to see the source, even though his liger kept urging him to take a peek.

Why look when he already knew who hung out at the bar? Despite not peeking, Leo could sense
her
in a way that disturbed him. Surely her earlier proclamation that they were mates was false. Fate wouldn’t have paired him with someone so utterly unsuited to his lifestyle and taste.