This was bad.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Pinched myself, hard. Nothing happened. I didn't wake up and my cunt didn't stop its hungry clenching. If anything, my body punished me further with a fresh wave of hot want that curled my toes and made my eyes tear up. Yes, this was bad. Very bad.

Apparently I'd miscalculated the due date of my next heat cycle. Instead of happening in another week, it was happening now, when I was scheduled for one of the—no, for the most important interview of my career.

Sure, I could square my shoulders and go in anyway. But what if I said the wrong thing and didn't just miss out on a promotion but got myself altogether fired?

Hello, sir, my name is Shiloh and well today I'm really super fucking horny fuck me right now please and thank you for your time.

Yeah, no. The safest place for me right now, I decided grimly, was this cozy closet. Pulling my phone out of my coat pocket, I sent off a quick message to Vanessa, my best friend. She also happened to be in charge of the front desk at the company we worked for. I could trust her to let the boss know.

Ugh, cant make the interview, violently ill. Tell the boss. Thanks.

Minutes later, her reply came, announced by a series of vibrations. ?! Yr kidding me. And then, because she could never send all her thoughts in the same message: This is ur dream wtf Shi!

I started to type back, only to roll my eyes when I realized she wasn't done. U cant bail youll never forgive urself. Followed by: boss will be so mad omfg u always make me give him the bad news.

And: ur such a dick.

Yes, it was true. All of it. I had worked ruthlessly for this moment my entire career. This moment being an opportunity to work alongside AME—Abernathy Marketing Enterprises. Founded by legendary Quinn Abernathy, it was the unrivaled king of the marketing industry. No, I would probably never forgive myself for unwittingly sabotaging my own success. Yes, my boss would be furious. Yes, I did make Vanessa give him all the bad news, but only because I was pretty sure he wanted to bang her and she wanted to be banged.

I wasn't a dick, though. I was actually a pretty nice guy. Which just made me feel even worse—why did shitty things always happen to the nice people?

Im not bailing, I texted back. Im actually really sick. Srsly, I think I have ebola or something. Wanna see my puke?

Vanessa was a beta and I was sure she would've been totally understanding, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth, even though I felt really bad about lying to her.

She didn't need to know that I was at AME and currently trapped inside the closet of some executive's office, trying to wait out the worst of my heat. It was embarrassing. If she knew, she'd be calling me a dumbass instead of a dick.

Ewww no way Shi, that's gross. Sucks to be you.

I almost typed back yeah it does, you have no idea but decided to just leave it at that, switching my phone off and sliding it back into my pocket. I was starting to feel antsy, like I needed to run. Since that soo wasn't an option, I occupied myself with looking around the closet.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. It was just a closet. A small closet. I had to pull my knees against my chest, lacking any room to stretch them out unless I assumed a different angle.

There was a coat rack spanning overhead, hosting several spare suits. A tag that dangled near my shoulder read Alexander Amosu. I blinked, recognizing the name of the renowned men's clothing specialist. Another tag read William Westmancott. After Desmond Merrion, I stopped reading and tried hard not to think about whose closet I'd trapped myself in. Whoever they were, they were rich enough to afford some of the most expensive suits in the world.

One of which, I noticed, had fallen loose from its hanger. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed it and stuck my nose against the fabric, inhaling deeply. Alpha.

That was what I needed. A strong, powerful alpha to fuck me throughout my heat. Nnn. My hole twitched at the thought, producing more slick in wanton anticipation. I groaned, resisting the urge to palm my dick through my trousers.

Instead I sat back and steeled myself for what was undoubtedly going to be an experience from the fiery bowels of hell.