“Everything’s in my backpack.” I hook a thumb at the topper over the bed. “So that’s easy.”
He nods. “Okay.” He shifts the truck into gear and we drive less than a mile to a little pizza joint.
“Don’t talk while we’re in there, please, unless I talk to you, okay?” he says.
I nod.
“Any food allergies?”
“No.”
“Good.” I follow him inside, where there are humans behind the counter, but I smell several different kinds of shifters, pretty strongly, like they’re frequent visitors.
This is a popular place for shifters.
He must have put in the order while I was working because three boxes are waiting for us, a bag holding something else, and a couple of cold 2-liter bottles of soda.
He pays, and I help him carry it out to the truck.
I don’t ask questions. We drive two minutes to a small park, where we sit under a picnic shelter.
Despite the earlier heavier rain, I still faintly smell shifters. Meaning there must be a lot of them around here and using this place on the regular. Tonight we have the place to ourselves and my stomach grows nonstop from the delicious aroma.
He bought three extra-large pizzas and two orders of garlic knots. I didn’t realize how absolutely starved I was until I took my first bite of that hot, gooey, cheesy masterpiece.
He smiles from across the table. “Best pizza around. Only pizza around,” he adds, laughing, “but even if they weren’t it’d be hard to beat them.”
“Shifters own the place?”
“Yeah. Everyone working in there is either blood relations or adopted family.”
“Part of the pack?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He takes a bite. “Kids born into the pack, they’re automatically in. People from affiliated packs, they’re usually in if they’re born or mated in. But anyone not born into the pack? They go through initiation.”
I’m nervous but I smell his arousal, so it’s having an effect on me. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Not sure I can answer it.”
“I understand.” I decide to plunge ahead. “Can you tell me about omega male mating heats?”
He was taking a bite and his eyes widen. He nearly spits out the pizza because he starts laughing and choking and has to wash it down with a few swallows of soda before he can talk. “Say what?”
Yep, my face is burning. “Look, I know I’m an omega, okay? I’ve never been in a mating heat. And before you ask, no, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve never had anyone to talk to.”
He cocks his head. “Really?”
I point at myself and circle my finger. “Homophobic father. Never told him I was gay until his guy caught me dry humping a human in a club. And even if I did know other omega males, I couldn’t talk to them about this without it getting back to my dad.”
“Ah.” He slowly nods and wipes his hands with a napkin. “Wolf, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Let me preface this by saying I’m not a wolf, and I’m not an omega, so I’m not an expert.” I nod, and he continues. “My understanding is mating heats in canine omega males usually happen on a fairly predictable cycle. Again, I don’t know the specifics. There are also, supposedly, concoctions you can take to trigger them. Sometimes, it can be triggered by hormone dumps, like if you’re being chased by an Alpha who wants to claim you as their mate, or if you’re scared or super horny or something. And, apparently, sometimes they just randomly hit. Again, sorry, not certain about the deets.
“What I do know is I’ve seen omega males hit a mating heat. Some of them, they’ll pretty much bend over for anyone that’ll fuck ’em on any day ending in Y and twice on Sundays.
“Now, if you want to be the center of a gangbang, rock on, been there myself. But even shifters who aren’t Alphas will react to you being in heat, and if you toss yourself into the middle of a literal fucking mosh pit, expect you’ll get fucked until no one can get it up.
