All my preparation has made my dick rock hard, and I've got a full-on tent in my shorts. Quickly, I unfasten my belt and free myself from clothing. The island breeze feels amazing against the hot skin of my cock, and my balls flex in response as a shiver runs down my spine.
Unintentionally, my thoughts drift back to Isaac. He was basically naked as he pranced along the marina dock and helped the guests through their security checks. The curve of his tight ass drew my attention multiple times. I'd been forced to clear my throat and look away, all the while imagining how easy it would've been to slip my cock inside.
I lean against a tree trunk and stroke my cock as the thoughts continue.
He looked at me more than once with that sultry gaze of his. I could just picture him on his knees in front of me with his lips wrapped around the head of my cock as I stroke the shaft. His lips look so soft and sweet tasting. My biggest regret now is that I'll probably never get a chance to taste them for myself.
Pumping my cock, my head rests on the bark and I do my best to control my sounds. There is an unreasonable urge within me to call out his name. Even though I know he won't hear me. Even though I chased him away. I want to shout his name as I fuck my own hand. Hopefully, it’ll soothe the lonely ache that's rampaging through me even as I fantasize about an omega I'll never let myself have.
An omega I want to press against a tree as I hold him in the air with my cock sliding in and out of his delicious ass while he whimpers in pleasure. I want to see him stroking his cock with one hand, and my face with the other. Then, as my knot grows, I want to bury it inside of him, sealing myself in and filling him with my seed.
My thoughts run wild as I come. The knot of my cock swells beneath my hand then quickly recedes. There's no omega here to stimulate it further, to keep me hard and quivering. There's no one but me and a shameful puddle of come in the dirt at my feet.
Seven
Isaac
I can't believe I'm such an idiot.
That thought runs through my head over and over again all afternoon. Whenever I get a free moment, I'm stuck in a loop of despair, anger, and self-doubt. Why the hell am I such an idiot?
Thankfully, I don't have a lot of free moments. The resort is busy and there's way too much happening. That…and the fact that the guests have embraced "Shameless Island's" number one selling point wholeheartedly. The entire island, save for the marina, is clothing optional.
All the guests, rich alphas, omegas, and women, are in various states of undress as they take advantage of the island's amenities. The most popular attraction, of course, is the beach itself. Enviously, I look at my fellow drink servers, those who get to be out on the sand, enjoying the sun. They can dip their feet in the water from time to time and seem to be enjoying themselves immensely.
Meanwhile, I'm stuck serving drinks on the patio and the dining room. I've had a few calls to deliver drinks to guests rooms as well, though I've been careful to follow the rules and not go inside. It's not a bad job, but I really was hoping I'd get to work on my tan a little. Especially since I'm probably going home after today.
So why the hell didn't I tell Duke about my problem when I had the chance?
All the stars had aligned in my favor. I'd done something to help him out, he was clearly in a generous mood, and I'm almost certain he would've at least tried to help me in order to return the favor.
But I didn’t. Why? Because I'm an idiot.
That and because I was still pissed at him for not listening to me when I first came to him. I was still angry that he hadn't taken me seriously, and that I had to go out of my way to earn his favor. But, obviously, the only one actually inconvenienced by the whole thing is me. I let my temper get the better of me, and now I've pretty much guaranteed I'm getting sent home.
But I'll do everything in my power to make this last as long as possible.
If I'm lucky, I won't go into heat until after my shift ends. I can make arrangements to leave first thing after that. At least I’ll get one day's worth of wages too, so it's not all bad.
The rationalizations continue to scroll through my head as I off load a tray of drinks to one guest's table. I'm thanked with a glowing smile as the alpha at the head of the table reaches out to smack my ass. Fortunately, I notice in time and am able to dodge out of the way.
"Ah, ah, ah." I waggle my finger at him and grin playfully. "You can look all you want, but no touching. If you like what you see, don’t forget to leave a tip." I wink.
His companions all laugh at my words. "Well, he told you," one of them teases. "You got caught red handed."
Their teasing continues as I head back to the bar to pick up my next order of drinks. So far, I've had a few people try to grab, smack, or fondle me, but for the most part, they're keeping their hands to themselves. I was honestly expecting the crowd to be a lot rougher. Apparently, Warren's got pretty strict standards for who he invited. Duke didn't hesitate to eject those caught trying to smuggle in contraband, but I didn’t notice to many people trying to break the rules. Since a similar fate awaits anyone caught harassing the staff, and no one wants to risk losing access to the resort.
It's only the first day, but I think they're on to something really amazing here. It's really too bad that my own stubbornness got in the way. Otherwise, I would've loved to see this through. There was even talk about getting invited back for a second stint, or possibly permanent contracts, if we impressed Warren and the guests.
Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I try to focus on my work. No point dwelling on something that's never going to happen. The only thing I can do is have the best day possible and not to let it get me down.
At least my earlier estimates were correct. I’ve definitely been collecting quite a few tips. Between my salary today and the tips I’ve earned, I might actually have about a tenth of the cash I actually need. Sadly, that doesn’t make me feel much better about leaving.
Evening draws near and with it, the second shift of omegas.
The dinner crowd is starving after a day spent playing in the sand and roasting under the summer sun. I catch sight of Anders in his black thong, but I don't get a chance to talk to him. There's far, far too much to do.
I'm dead on my feet before my first table is empty, but the night is still young, and I don't have a chance to rest. I'm in the middle of carrying an armload of plates back to the kitchen when a breeze blows through the open doors of the patio, carrying with it the smell of the ocean…and an omega in heat.
Fuck.
Alarms start going off in my head as I rush toward the kitchen with my plates.
It can't be me. I've still got time. I know I do. I can't be in heat. Not yet. Not like this.
I feel as if all eyes are on me before I manage to duck into the kitchen and dump my plates in the sink. Miraculously, I avoid all the kitchen staff and flee to the bathroom where it’s quiet and I can be alone so I can take a deep breath and reassess.
Now that all the smells of food and other people are gone, I realize it wasn't me. There's no scent of heat wafting around me. I'm still completely normal. That means there's still time. I don’t need to pack up yet.