Page 52 of Bubblegum Pop

Groaning to myself, I sat up on the edge of the bed, sliding off and tiptoeing to the far right of the room, to an inconspicuous door most of my guests didn’t notice.

I took guests to my fake nest, which all the hosts called our boudoirs, another fancy way of saying ‘the room for fucking’, but I did like that one.

With a giant bed in the middle, the six-hundred-square-foot room was packed with everything the guest might need for the night, and decorated by me, to fit my host persona. Bright pinks, soft purples, lace and gauze, and fluffy pillows. Teardrop-shaped crystal lights hung from the ceiling, and the thickest baby pink carpet I could find. There were chests of drawers and a big wardrobe where I hid trinkets and silly things like a diary or fake pictures of my ‘family’, so clients thought they were discovering my secrets.

It was all just for show.

I punched in the code on the keypad, and the door slid back. Sighing, I stepped through, away from my fake nest, and into the place I really called home.

What I loved about this job, apart from the huge payouts, the endless freebies, and my three alphas, was that I had my own apartment. And as the most sought-after omega in the club, mine was the biggest. It was another six-hundred-square-feet, but this was split into smaller rooms, cosier, more like a real nest, though I invited other omegas over for nights in.

After I showered, cleaning off the remains of the last clients, I pulled on a fresh robe, and padded across the plush white carpet of my living room to push aside a pink, sparkly drape that hung across the wall. There was a small door hidden behind it. It could be a normal cupboard, where someone might store junk or cleaning supplies, with the door just reaching my hip.

And hidden away in there were my most prized possessions.

I sighed in relief as I bent down and crawled inside my real nest. The door was only just big enough for Apollo, Zeus, and Odin to squeeze through if I ever brought them here.

Even if the security team knew about my nest, none of them would ever enter. Omegas got seriously fucked up if an alpha entered their nest without permission. They were an extension of ourselves, our most private place. Though there were omegas who were happy to let anyone in, I’d never be one of them. The media said it was normal for nests to be open, like it’s normal for all omegas to be skinny, perfect housewives, but it’s all bullshit. At the moment, I needed my nest to be small, but I’d also spent years building another nest in my imagination, so it would be easy to create when I moved into their pack house—when we were finally together at last.

I whined as the familiar sad pain flooded my body. I wouldn’t have the chance to do it until they came back from Rio.

With two weeks to go, I was getting desperate. I had to do something to make them stay.

I clicked a switch on my right, the beauty of my nest exploded, and suddenly, I was bathed in a golden glow as thousands of tiny stars burst around me.

Pushing the door closed, I checked to make sure the drape was back in place. I didn’t want anyone finding me, even though it had been my secret since I moved into the rooms eight months ago.

This was all I needed to be safe and comfortable. I could lie on the large bare mattress, look up at the nets of stars, and remember how far I had come.

My foster parents would lock us up in a bedroom every night to get us all out of the way so they could shoot up. Though ‘bedroom’ was pushing it. We each had a mattress and a bucket in a corner. When I presented at eighteen and ran away from home, I knew I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. I had to sink any dream I had of finding a pack and face reality as I realised what kind of life was in store for me.

Until Michael. Until the contract. Until Odin, Zeus, and Apollo.

The mattress in my nest was hard—the same kind of cheap thing I’d slept on in all kinds of places. I’d been pinned and attacked on one, huddled under a bridge in winter, locked in an attic in the dark. There were heaps of bad memories trapped inside me, and they were all wiped away when I dreamed of lying on that mattress with my alphas.

I didn’t want them to be as uncomfortable, so I gave in and made sure I had an extra comfy one, so when they eventually came, they could surround me and sleep soundly, holding them in my nest.

I’d left my nest as close to empty as possible. The bare wooden floor and walls and the pink insulation above reminded me of all the places I’d stayed growing up. Cheap rooms or squatting in old buildings. It was the only thing that had been consistent my entire life.

I’d never had a nest until I started working at Club Heat, and every day I walked inside my little closet, I came home. It would always be my space. No one would ever come inside without my permission, steal my things, wait for me, attack me, or force me down and fuck me.

Dropping to my knees, I crawled towards the pile, sitting back on my heels as I reached for my most precious possession: Zeus’s T-shirt.

We exchanged clothes when we could to make things easier. We couldn’t be together, but we could at least be surrounded by each other’s scents. I gave them bits and pieces when I could. Apollo would bring me food, and occasionally, it would come with a jumper or a shirt. And when I returned the glass dishes, I would pass them a treat, too. Sometimes it was a shirt I slept in, other times, when I was really annoyed at them, I would send them an after-show thong.

I loved every single piece I had of them, but it wasn’t the same as Zeus’s T-shirt.

I lifted it to my nose and inhaled, my pussy quivering as the faded passion fruit scent whispered to me, taking me back to that amazing moment six months ago.

We had been backstage, ten minutes before a show, and I’d spilt coffee on him—a complete accident, and perfect all the same. He had to whip it off to stop the burn, and instantly, we were caught by each other.

We'd both stared, tension blooming around us as my eyes traced the hard muscles of his chest, scattered with rivers of lightning scars, before finding his cock.

My fingers trembled as I held the shirt close to my chest, picturing the fire of desire blazing from Zeus as he stepped towards me.

I crushed my thighs together as I groaned, swimming in the memory of what came next.

His chest rumbled and I looked up, a breath growing, expanding as I perfumed, and he shuddered, drawing me in.