Lights, Camera, Omega (Hollywood Omegas #1)

I’ve been so distracted by him that I actually jump in my seat when Julian raps softly on my window with his knuckles.

“Jesus, fuck!” I hiss at him, rolling down the window a few inches reluctantly. I’m still pissed at him about Daphne, even though I have no right to be.

“Hey.” Julian leans down, making direct eye contact with me through the narrow opening.

Even though it’s petty, I don’t say hello. I just grunt my non-committal greeting.

“Listen, I know that we’ve all had our issues with trust in the past,” Julian barrels right along, already steeped in his speechifying tone.

“I didn’t mean to violate anyone’s trust the other night,” Julian explains, not quite apologizing.

I roll my eyes.

“I’m serious Cos, I didn’t!” Julian implores.

“Impact isn’t the same as intent, Julian,” I sigh, trying not to let him sour my mood before Daphne appears.

Where the hell is she, anyway?

“Oh, come on, Cosmo! I know you’ve seen the tape—I did my best, but I’m only fucking human, man.” Julian croaks a mirthless laugh.

I shrug in concession, but don’t say anything.

“Look, I’m not trying to start shit before your date, if anything I wanted to say I did my best to make it up to you.” Julian gives me a mischievous smirk.

“I’ll see you at the Gala, or maybe I won’t… But something tells me you two are going to turn some heads.”

I have half a mind to snap back at this smarmy bastard, but before I can get a word in, Julian pushes off from the car window frame, revealing Daphne in all her glory.

The dress is instantly recognizable as Julian’s handiwork; a shimmering blue-gray satin that plunges in a deep cowl neck in the front and a daring drapery that completely exposes Daphne from her shoulders to the dimples at the base of her spine in the back.

Her golden curls have been styled into shimmering old Hollywood waves, a pair of large Baroque pearl earrings dangling from her ears.

I swing the door to the limousine open, nearly knocking Julian off his feet with the unexpected speed of my exit.

“Daphne!” her name escapes my lips without my bidding. I can’t think of a single thing to say about her divine appearance—truly speechless.

Her vermillion painted lips tremble slightly.

“Cosmo… Is… Do I look alright?” she titters anxiously, giving a small turn in place.

“You look incredible—like starlight.”

I can’t help myself, I’ve closed the distance between us—desperate to feel the soft satin against her skin beneath my fingers.

“You look like a star,” she breathes, her eyes sweeping up and down my tuxedo wrapped form. It tickles my ego in a way I had thought I was all but immune to now.

Before Julian can slither away into the shadows to catch up with Magnus, I call out, “Julian, you have really outdone yourself!” I grin, a delighted but dangerous kind of smile, showcasing my pearly canine teeth to him just so.

He stoops a small bow—the look on his face as if to say, are we cool now?

I give him a wink to confirm, yeah, we’re cool. I do this because it would be incredibly uncouth of me to try to convey, We won’t be cool until I cuckold you, making you lick Daphne while I knot her in your face, even if only with a series of gestures and facial expressions.

I would feel guilty about such a sadistic, petty thought—if I didn’t know the prospect would delight dear old Julian.

It, of course, bears mentioning that Daphne could and in fact should, be blamed rather than this little vindictive needling I’m feeling toward Julian. She really forces the issue of precision of language to satisfy her needs… Daphne Dale really does fit in right away with us—a pack of somewhat covert deviants and perverts.

“Daphne, if you please.” I extend my hand to her, helping her into the back seat of the limousine.