Eve
Margo tilted her head, eyes dancing. “Don’t worry. I eventually found my headphones.”
I gulped, throat dry, mortified heat crawling up my neck.
She stood, stretching gracefully, and brushed past me toward the kitchen. “Though between you and me,” she added in a conspiratorial murmur, “the man’s got stamina. You’re a very lucky omega.”
I stood frozen in the foyer long after she’d gone, cheeks burning, praying the floor would finally open up and end my suffering.
It didn’t.
With a mortified groan, I fled to the car and sped off into the rest of my day, cheeks still burning.
I prayed Ellen hadn’t heard anything—she’d left for her quarters late last night, at least—but the neighbors? God, we’d been loud. Obscenely loud. My screams had probably carried through the open windows on the
