Lights, Camera, Omega (Hollywood Omegas #1)

“I’ve known Melody almost as long as I’ve been in the business,” Vinny smarms, placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on Ms. Harper’s as we shake.

“When Vinny told me how cute you were, I have to admit, I was skeptical.” Melody smiles wryly as she looks me up and down, still slowly shaking my hand.

I smile, a big one that shows all the top teeth I painstakingly whitened earlier.

“I was out with Johnny when he picked out the dress. It looks great on you.” Melody leans in to tell me conspiratorially, finally releasing my hand from her firm shake.

I follow the quick flit of her eyes to a nearby felt billiards table in a pool of hazy golden light.

Johnny Angel, tall and lithe, looms over the table like an alabaster statue; his white blond coif a toss of effortless cool—his porcelain skin cold and smooth against the comparative warmth of his cream-colored leather jacket and the ivory of his fashionably worn jeans. He looks like the discordant white floral scents mingling in the room, somehow made into the shape of a man—almost glowing under the lights over the billiard table.

I haven’t noticed that I’ve frozen until Johnny, leaning over the expanse of green felt, lifts his icy blue eyes, skewering me with his chilly gaze.

I see his nostrils flare, the tic of the muscles in his jaw as he catches my scent.

The way he looks at me is nothing like how Sol, Amos, or even Vinny look at me. It makes my blood run cold and my stomach clutch at itself.

“What can I get for you at the bar? I’ll take care of grabbing you a drink with ol’ Vinny here so you can get right to introductions. I know everyone’s eager to meet you,” Melody offers helpfully, though I had been planning on using a trip to the bar as a delay tactic.

“Gin and tonic, twist of lime.” I do my best to sound chipper, but I can already see Johnny looming towards me as Melody prepares to depart for the bar, Vinny in tow.

“Hey, Daphne.” Johnny’s voice has a husky quality to it that gives him a real sultry depth when he sings. He slides directly into the space created by Melody’s departure, directly in front of me.

“Hi Johnny,” I reply awkwardly, offering him my hand to shake much in the same way I did to Melody.

“The dress looks real good on you.” His eyes move over my body, but his voice is remarkably flat, almost as if he were talking in his sleep.

I’m more than a little startled when Johnny’s bland expression shifts—a cruel and clever gleam sparkling in his icy blues. Without warning, he suddenly envelops me in his long, wiry arms.

I go stiff as a board, like a fly caught in the many-legged grip of a spider.

“So jumpy,” he purrs in my ear, and I soften a bit in pure biological response.

“So fresh, so green.” Johnny takes a deep inhale of my scent and speaks low, almost directly into my ear. “Wound so tight… Just about everywhere, I bet.”

Even though he’s already holding me, he presses closer. In a panic, I look for Vinny and Melody–both with their backs to me at the bar; the rest of the band–minus their lead guitar player are still seated at the booth enjoying their drinks and shouting at one another over the music being pumped through the overhead speakers.

“Johnny,” I start, shakily, before finding my voice.

“Call me Angel, love,” he corrects me, his hand wandering from my shoulder down my back to my hip.

“Call me Daphne, not Love—Angel,” I hiss, pushing myself away from Johnny.

He looks more than a little affronted.

“I’m sure you’re very used to women basically throwing themselves at you.” I’ve found my voice now, and I’m not planning on going quietly.

“But I came here to meet a pack, not jump directly into heavy petting.” I smooth out my dress and put more space between us, doing my best not to start crying–my heart is beating so fast.

Johnny winds up, by the looks of it—to say something less than professional—when suddenly our managers have re-appeared; Vinny at my elbow with a gin and tonic and Melody at Johnny’s heels.

“Ohoho, a little tense before our first heat, are we?” Melody teases, giving me a knowing wink.

I couldn’t believe it. This lady was really going to dismiss this kind of creepy behavior by blaming my heat cycle? I expected that kind of bullshit from older alpha men—but a successful alpha businesswoman? What. The. Fuck.

Even Vinny could tell the meeting was going sideways, so he stepped in, doing his best to salvage both of our careers before I lost my temper.

“You know what, I probably should have communicated better about the meeting. I was trying to keep tonight’s meeting a surprise, so I hadn’t set up any expectations for the boys to be here,” Vinny flounders.