He sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, and it’s another reminder that he’s been mixed up with the Carrillos for a while. According to the background I’ve done on him, he grew up in Shilton, which is almost as bad as the shithole that spat me out. “They stopped coming after me when I shipped a bunch of body bags to their clubhouse.” I flash my teeth at him. “Half were full, and the other half were labelled with the rest of the gang’s names.”
The pornstar snorts. “That’s one way of sending a message.”
“Never claimed to be subtle.” I study the job I’ve done with Diana’s hair, and meet the beta’s eyes in the mirror. “Does she need hairspray, or any of that shit?”
He gives me an unhelpful shrug. “Ask her.”
I grunt, tipping her face up to mine. There’s so much swirling in her big, beautiful eyes, it’s hard to keep my train of thought, and I have to wrack my brain to think back to the omegas I’ve known in the past. They all liked to be dolled up, with big hair and lots of makeup, although I never saw how they got that way. “You want ribbons or bows, or something?”
She bites her lip, a hint of longing in the way she curls a strand of her hair around her finger. “Could you braid it? It goes frizzy when it’s wet.”
The beta coughs into his fist behind me, but the pornstar is openly smirking. She might as well have asked me to embroider a cushion, and he knows it, the little shit. “Braids?”
Diana bites her lip as she searches my face. “Or maybe just a ribbon? That would be good, too.”
“Fuck that,” I grunt. “If you want braids, you get braids.”
I study her head, thinking of the limited number of hairstyles I ever gave a fuck about. I’m pretty sure this one is like tying a piece of rope, with a lot of unders and overs. I don’t mention that I had to wear Velcro sneakers until I was ten, since my fingers were too big to master laces. “Can’t be as hard as building a twin cam engine from scratch,” I mutter to myself.
The pornstar must hear, because he hands me a thin metal comb. “Use that to section the hair,” he says, pointing at her crown. “Divide it into three sections, crossing the outer sections up and over the middle section in an alternating pattern.”
I curl my lip at his instructions. Does he think that’s fucking helpful?
I’m still staring at Diana’s scalp when the beta clears his throat. “She actually prefers the fishtail braid.” He catches Diana’s eye and winks. “All the pretty mermaids have them.”
What the fuck?These assholes are clearly setting me up to fail.
“Maybe you should show him, Dex,” the pornstar says helpfully. “I don’t think there are many cylinder heads in a fishtail braid.”
I glare at the cheeky fucker, but the beta peers over my shoulder, nudging the hand with the comb. “You only need two sections for a fishtail. Left and right.” I can feel his breath on my arm as I slice the comb through her hair, pretty close to a perfect part. I grin at my efforts, but the beta nudges my hand again. “Okay. Now, take a thin strand from the left section and tuck itunder the right. Pull it tight.Gently.Now do the opposite until you’ve worked your way to the bottom.”
I grunt, but there’s something hypnotic about the process, and I’m almost disappointed when I reach the end. “Not bad,” the pornstar says. “Especially with those ginormous fingers of yours.”
I show him my teeth, tempted to wrap my huge fingers around his skinny throat, but the beta distracts me by handing me a pink bow. “You can finish it off by tying that around the end.” It has an elastic band, so I attach it with no problems. While I stand back to study my handiwork, the beta hands me a small mirror. “You need to show her the back. Angle it so she can see it. Like this.”
He demonstrates, and Diana’s cheeks grow pinker, her eyes shining as they meet mine. “Thank you, Alpha. It’s perfect.”
“It’s a bit crooked at the end, but not too bad for my first go.”
“You could practice on your beard,” the pornstar suggests, tapping his own clean-shaven chin. “I could lend you some ribbons.”
I lean over to flick the dimple in his cheek, but Diana makes a startled sound, and I turn to see her staring into the hand mirror. Shit. She’s tilted the angle perfectly, getting her first look at the property stamp on her back. “It’s so ugly,” she whispers, tears clinging to her feathery lashes. “It’s supposed to be a promise, notthat.”
“You don’t belong to them,” I growl, snatching the mirror away and slamming it down so hard I almost crack it on the vanity. “Listen to me, Omega. You’remine, and when I claim you, no fucker’s gonna believe a stupid property stamp over my mating bite.”
She stares at it a moment longer, her body twitching like she wants to climb out of her skin. I know that feeling well enough to feel it in my churning gut, but then she lifts her arms in mydirection. “Please, Kane. Mark me now. I want you to own me, not them.”
A growl rumbles out of my chest as I scoop her up, my hands clasping protectively over her lower back. When I find the guy who inked her, we’ll see how well he holds a tattoo gun without his arms, but right now, my focus is all on her.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I tell her, grinning at the way she wraps her legs tight around me. She smells like shampoo and body wash, but I plan on changing that as soon as I get her back into the nest. “Gonna knot you so good, you won’t ever think about them again.”
She shivers in pleasure, and I feel my cock push up between us, hungry to take her. I get her to the bed, but the muttering behind me is starting to piss me off.
“She needs to know…”
“What?” I snap, glaring over my shoulder at the chatty assholes. “Spit it out or shut the hell up.”
I’m reaching my last thread of patience, but the pornstar doesn’t back down, his eyes narrowed like he wants to stab me with them. “You need to tell her thatno oneowns her. She’s her own person, no matter who marks her. That bullshit about omegas being owned by alphas is archaic.” His gaze fixes on her, sincerity shining from his face. “You’re in charge of your body, sweetheart. Just like you’re the only one who controls your slick.”
