Carrie tapped her finger on the table of the small office on the test floor, her nail creating a stable staccato against the wood.
An intimidation tactic. She had learned the unspoken rules early: Speak up, but not too much. Be assertive, but not aggressive.
Despite her position in the company, receiving the ugly end of disrespect as an Omega wasn’t new to Carrie.
She sat, spine straight and chin slightly up so Jordan Jimenez, the Quality Manager wouldn’t have to look down while talking to her.
But he wasn’t talking anymore.
Armed with a complaint, Carrie diligently marched down to the testing facility attached to Blackbird Industry’s main building. Jordan was more than willing to let her take his comfortable high back instead of letting her sit on the mini couch.
Last week, a report landed on her table courtesy of a clueless employee who received a change of material request from the assembly line for a prototype they wanted to build, as advised by the quality check department.
Carrie decided to deal with it first thing Monday. They couldn’t afford unnecessary delays or any delay at all. Carrie planned to give them a piece of her mind and what was a better way than a surprise visit, right? Their manager was definitely surprised. As it turned out, he wasn’t aware of the report being made, but according to him, he might have an idea who the culprit was.
Jordan only moved from his ramrod stance at the door when a young man in overalls came in. A hushed conversation commenced before the newcomer successfully entered. Carrie listened to the bits and pieces she could catch.
The man was tall and lean, obvious even in his overalls. There was a commanding air around him, clearly an Alpha, but he bowed his head while talking to Jordan, nodding and respectfully replying to his Beta superior.
“Chief Carson, this is Greg Moir, one of our technicians,” Jordan gestured at her and then at the newcomer.
Greg extended his hand and Carrie shook it without rising from her seat. She wasn’t here for pleasantries. She opened the folder, sliding it in front of the technician and his manager. “I’m assuming you know about this?”Greg Moir skimmed the page and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted. Jordan tensed behind him. “The compressor blades are critical for maintaining smooth airflow and optimal pressure ratios. Even minor surface defects can disrupt the aerodynamics, leading to efficiency losses, overheating, or even blade failure—”
“Two minutes,” Carrie warned.
“Regal Aeronautical used the same titanium alloy as our new prototype for their Engine X-30 experiment. It crashed due to microcracks along the leading edge of three compressor blades that grew by 30% over just 50 test cycles and eventually exceeded safe operational limits. Our new prototype is smaller and thinner compared to that but they have similar proportions and may experience the same stress levels. We might need to redesign the blade geometry or consider an alternative alloy. Both would be better to do before the manufacturing to save cost. Prevention is better than cure, Ma’am.” By the time he was over, Greg Moir was almost out of breath.
Carrie studied the design attached to the report. She tapped the table, something she liked to do when thinking or filing in silence. For a few minutes, the room was in pure silence.
“Are you certain of this? A delay is hardly cost-effective too.”
The technician straightened. Carrie watched him carefully. Something about him was different. She was sure he was an Alpha, he stank of one, yet he hadn’t raised his voice or sneered or shown any signs of imposition despite Carrie’s prodding.
“The documentation for Regal’s prototype is available to read, Ma’am, I can forward you the source so we can be certain, Ma’am. Of course, my knowledge is only within my expertise, but I think this is something worth considering,” he said confidently but devoid of arrogance.
Carrie skimmed the report once more then closed the folder and stood.
“Very well,” she said. “I’ll have someone check on it. We’re done.” With that, she exited the office without waiting for their response.
Carrie had worked hard enough to leave rooms without waiting for anyone’s response.
As she walked back to the main building, Carrie couldn’t help but think of the young technician. The way he interacted with his superiors was peculiar considering his nature. Carrie admired that a bit. She too presented herself differently as an Omega.
At the lobby, the guard didn’t ask for her ID anymore. Carrie smiled to herself. She swiped her pass to enter the elevator because Gods forbid the thieves would use stairs to steal spacecraft data.
Greg Moir, she recalled his name. What a peculiar individual. One thing was for sure; he certainly knew his engines.
-----
What the hell was that?
Greg stumbled out of Mr. Jimenez’s office and went straight to the men’s room. He got in the last cubicle, locked the door, sat on the toilet, and clutched his head in his hands.
An image of Ms. Carrie Carson, Chief of R&D, flashed behind his closed eyes.
The most beautiful woman in the world sitting on the ratty high back of his boss, in his cramped office. That office had never been more vibrant. Chief Carson in her gray and white outfit, a midi skirt accompanied by a length of dark stocking, ending with a pair of kitten heels. Everything fit her like a second skin, an armor. And everyone else felt like a wet rat in comparison.
Instinctively, Greg sniffed himself. He had been working on the test floor before he got called in. Sweat stained his forehead and back. Gods, he stunk.
But it was her face that was truly overwhelming. Her expression, a picture of control, power, and confidence. Her face, symmetrical, cheekbones cutting into the smooth fair skin of hers. Then there was the glasses. Greg had no particular type, but damn those glasses.
Why hadn’t he seen her before?
He barely sensed her when he approached the office, her scent effectively muted. Greg would have pegged her as a Beta if not for a sudden but subtle spike of pheromones while he reasoned his way out of losing his job.
Greg was losing his job. He was sure of it.
The earful he got from Mr. Jimenez was enough proof. If not, there was always Chief Carson who he somehow hassled. Yet, he wondered what Chief Carson would look like without the mask of power and her pair of eyeglasses.
Truth be told, he wasn’t aware a report had been made. Greg had shared a table with Roger, one of the mechanics, one day during lunch and made a comment on the blueprint he was studying. If his words were translated into a report then surely Roger had seen the issue too.
He was confident with that suggestion. Engines were his first love and Greg did his fair share of reading and researching about his passion.
If he was wrong, then this was a learning mistake and he would willingly accept the appropriate consequences. Right now, he firmly stood his ground. A material change was significantly cheaper than a failed prototype, especially if bids had been made.
Chief Carson agreed as well, at least at a certain level, otherwise, he would be fired on the spot.
She was something else. Even Mr. Jimenez had his tail between his legs around her.
Greg respected strong women. His mother was one. Growing up under her care, he had a good glimpse of the struggles women experience even in the modern world.
So, naturally, he was drawn to the gorgeous and composed Chief Carson. Right. He reminded him of his mother.
Greg groaned in his hands.
No, not at all.
Greg wanted to hit his head. If his mother could see him, she would be laughing right now. Perhaps hit him on the head too.
Greg ran his fingers through his hair. Was it normal to have a crush at the ripe age of twenty-seven? Gods, Mandy and Lester would love to hear about his.
“So?” Winona asked from the couch on the other side of her office.“So?” Carrie parroted as she tapped on her keyboard. “Your technician was right. Are you poaching him?” That took Carrie’s attention. She stopped her typing and looked Winona over the rim of her glasses. “You make it sound so illegal. He’s in the same company” “Well, you are, if you really think about it.”Carrie shrugged, turning back to her computer. “I’m offering him a position. If he wants it, then he’ll take it. That said, draft the offer, please. I want it sent before the weekend.” Winona slacked on the couch, kicking her shoes off and resting her feet on the center table. “I’m off the clock, you know,” she complained.“Yet you’re still here.”“As a friend. Something you’re in dire need of,” Winona shot back.Perhaps it was a mistake to hire her high school classmate as an assistant. Instead of going home, she stuck around to relax in Carrie’s office and show her what she couldn’t have.Carrie stretched her a
A follow request. Carrie just received a follow request on social media. And not just a normal follow request, one from the young technician she just took under her wing. Carrie tapped on the notification that had appeared on top of her mobile phone which led her to the person’s profile. Greg Noir stared at her from the screen, showcasing his white set of teeth, dimpled face, and sun-kissed skin. He was a good-looking young man, that, Carrie wouldn’t deny. She scrolled through his page. There wasn’t much to see. The few photos he had were taken at work, in a garage, or somewhere else with engines. Overalls and plain fitted tees seemed to be the only items in his wardrobe.In a couple of photos, he was with a boy, maybe seven or eight. Carrie zoomed in on a photo with the boy. The two of them were on a swing, the child on Greg’s lap. Both were grinning from ear to ear.Who was that child? His son? Was Greg mated after all? Carrie quickly turned off her phone. She didn’t care if he
“Me? Hurt you?” Greg sat down comfortably on the chair. He leaned back and placed both his arms on the armrests like an eagle with its wings spread out. Big and dangerous. “Isn’t this a nice place for a chair? A good view of the bedroom, the bed. Has anyone sat here and watched, Carisa? Have you? Do you like to watch? Or do you like being watched?”Carrie’s throat was dry. The way he said her name was enchanting. A siren song. And now Carrie was scared but also keyed up. “I’d like some water, please.” She needed something—anything.“You want me to get it for you?”“Yes, please.”“And bring it over there? Right beside you where I can easily reach you? Touch you?” His grin was charged with electricity. Carrie tried to look away but she was held hostage by his gaze. “You always struck me as a woman who likes to do it herself, so it makes me wonder what’s keeping you under that sheet. Something you don’t want me to see?”“I’m wearing a nightgown,” Carrie said, squirming as she said it. The
“You make many requests,” she commented, delighted with how stable she sounded. “I have an alarm, the police could be here any minute.”Unaffected, Greg simply shrugged. “Then I guess I’d better hurry.” He stood up, then. Was he really this huge? Moving closer, he shrugged off the top half of his overalls, then tied the sleeves around his waist. Carrie remembered this look—the same outfit he had in that one photo. As he moved closer to the bed, Carrie could see the leanness of his body, the bulge of his arms, the tightness of his abdominal muscles.“Are you going to do something?” She asked dumbly. “Is that what you want?” Greg came to the foot of the bed, settling a hand on the bedpost. Behind him, the moon cast a bright glow. A halo.His smell assaulted her nose. Too strong and too enticing at the same time.Carrie’s right foot poked out from under the bedsheet. Greg took notice of it. “Were you afraid of monsters under your bed when you were a child?”“No.”“I guess, that’s expec
“You tasted good. Does all of you taste that good? I bet it does. I can smell it. I can practically taste you.”Carrie was speechless. There was no denying it now. She was wet—more than wet. Because of Greg and he knew it.Greg reached out to trace her jaw as he sat down on the bed. His warmth resonated. His smell smothered her. “You’ve been quiet,” he commented. “Nothing much to say?”“Get off my bed and get out of my property.” Greg laughed. Despite her words, he climbed up the bed until he was lying down next to her. He lay on his side and propped his head on his hand so that he was facing her. His foot brushed against Carrie’s. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breathing labored.“I know you’ve wondered what it would be like,” Greg said.“I know what it’s like. I was mated.”“How long had that been?” Greg retorted. “Did you really like that? Did you really feel that?” Greg’s gaze penetrated her. For a second, Carrie feared he could see into her brain, and find out her thought
The Carson family had been the leaders of the pack since its establishment decades ago. Now that it has grown into a small community, their family remained the keepers of their kin. Carrie’s family promised her to a family friend’s firstborn who was meant to be their generation’s Alpha leader, making Carrie the Luna. The Reginalds were a rising pack as the owner of one of the popular fast-food chains in town. Their filial union was meant to signify the merging of their families but when it all fell down, they wasted no time dumping Carrie and cutting ties with her pack.It was for the best. Being an Alpha, her ex’s arrogance was always up to the ceiling. Albertus had been a decent enough mate, but his ego was something Carrie had put up on for years. A week after finding out about her infertility, he found another Omega to breed.Carrie’s older brother Vino became the one to lead the pack. The only problem was that he married an Omega male and their community was strict about having
“Can I sit?” He sat down on the bench before Carrie could reply, obligating her to wiggle aside to accommodate him. “Sure,” she smiled. The boy smiled back, a small dimple appearing just an inch below his lips. Adorable. Carrie loved children. That was probably her Omega talking, but being around them always brings her warmth. Finding out she would never have her own had been devastating. Now, Carrie suited herself in looking after her niece and the other kids in their pack. She had never missed anyone’s birthday. Every kid in their pack loved their Auntie Carrie for a reason. “I’m sooo tired,” the boy grumbled. He was still short enough that his legs dangled from the bench. A seven-year-old maybe. Or six. He was cute with his button nose scrunching as he heaved a sigh. Weirdly, the boy looked familiar. Carrie simply couldn’t point a finger on it.“You’ve been shopping a lot?” Guess it wasn’t just Carrie who was tired from shopping.“Yes! Many stores but nothing for me,” he poute
Greg had mixed opinions about his new workplace. It was clean, cool, bright, and smelled nice, and the low murmur of his new colleagues combined with the hum of computers was kind of relaxing. Large windows stretch along one side, potted plants dot the space, their green leaves a gentle contrast to the monochrome desks and steel-gray chairs. The complete opposite of the test floor filled with large equipment and dangerous machines.The office was okay, generally, but Greg liked his previous workplace a lot more. He liked to get his hands dirty. The only consolation was that his cube was close to Chief Carson. If he peeked to his right, her office window was in his direct line of sight. Greg stretched his legs under his new desk. It was plywood made into a sleek modern work table, but it was too small for his frame so his loafer-encased feet poked underneath. His slacks were tight and his dress shirt compressed his torso a little too tightly. The attendant at the store said it was
The second the door of Carrie’s hotel room closed, they were on each other.Carrie reached out and brushed her hand along his chest. Her skin felt warm and soft. All pretense fell. He brought his hand to her neck, to guide her to him as they took hurried steps back to the bed. The plan had been to part to their own rooms after checking in, but even in the elevator, they could barely resist each other. Not when Carrie was still slick from their flight activities. No words were said, but the mutual understanding was there. Greg eased her coat off her shoulders and was surprised by what he found.“You naughty girl,” he growled. She must have taken off her clothes when she excused herself to the powder room while they were checking in.Gone was her business attire.; Carrie had nothing but a lacy lingerie under her coat. Greg recognized the plunging neckline. It was the same as her top. Did she have it on earlier? Greg was amazed by how she managed to make such salacious clothing look
She felt the hand that was on her knee move up over her skirt, trаvеlіng uр her lеft leg with thе fіngеrtірѕ саrеѕѕіng thе іnѕіdе of her thіgh. He had managed to push her pencil skirt inches over her knee.Carrie wasn’t sure whether or not she was lucky that she was wearing a tight skirt. One thing was for certain: this act he was pulling was starting to make her wet. “As I’ve mentioned before, for this simulation, we’re focusing on the engine system, especially around thermal performance, propulsion behavior, and real-time risk assessment,” she enumerated, trying to focus on the discussion rather than what was happening under the table.Biting her lip, she fought a moan when he scratched the length of her left leg, causing a run on her stockings. Carrie realized how wasteful it was to spend time with the Alpha when most of her clothes got ripped and torn for his own pleasure. Although they do end up naked at one point and stay like so for the whole time they were together, so perhap
From his spot on the second floor, Greg could see his boss saunter inside the airbase, her lush curve of her hips swaying in her pencil skirt. Her low-cut blouse presented a good display of her cleavage, making Greg wonder whether this was her usual airport attire. How lucky her previous business trip companions were. As she made her way to the escalator, Carrie spotted him, and a soft smile appeared on her deep red lips. An overwhelming desire took over Greg. He gripped the railing he was leaning on, the hollow metal denting a little. Calm down, he reminded himself. But he felt his pants getting tighter. It kind of scares him how badly he wanted her. He stood to meet her halfway in the terminal. “Greg,” she greeted.“Chief Carson,” he replied with the same level of professionalism he received. “Did you wait long?” Carrie asked, still sounding formal even when her gaze was blazing with desire. “I’m sorry for the delay. I had to attend a meeting with the CEO.”Greg did his best
Greg was buzzing with excitement. Despite all his complaints about Mandy treating him like a child, he felt the same way he did when he joined his very first school field trip to the zoo.He had slept soundly last night after a steamy call with his boss, but he was yet to see her today.Greg, like the eager wolf that he was, looked forward to spending the weekend away with his Omega. Sure, they were together almost every day, but a different setting had a promise of something new, and while he was very much comfortable in their own houses, Greg welcomed the chance to spice things up with open arms.It was a work trip, he reminded himself, and his spirit Alpha. He had seen the itinerary, and they would be attending the Flight Testing Supervision the whole day on Saturday. They would be flying back by Sunday afternoon, giving them a few hours to wander around town.Greg had looked up a few spots to check out during their free time. A restaurant,
Mandy poked his suitcase, already posing to open it.“Step away from my things, girl,” he warned from the kitchen. He rushed to the living room where his half-sister was assaulting his suitcase and rolled it away to the hallway.Mandy protested, but flopped back on the couch once the suitcase was out of reach. “I’m just checking! What if you left something? Did you have enough clothes? How about your toiletries? You have your deodorant, right?”“You make it sound like I smell.”“You don’t,” she assured. “Oh, but after an auto shop session, it’s like you used motor oil as scent suppressants,” Mandy laughed, hitting the couch as she guffawed at her own joke.“Good thing I won’t be doing any manual work.” He walked back to the kitchen and continued plating the pasta she brought for dinner. “Why are you even here?”No answer. O
“How about this one?” Winona held out a pair of lacy underwear. From the floor, she frowned at her friend. “It’s a business trip, Winona.” Although, she had been contemplating whether to bring something fancy. With the trip coming in a couple of days, she had employed Winona to help her pack. Her companion was running errands himself, taking care of the stuff he was supposed to do over the weekend.Normally, Carrie would bring a preset collection of business attire she reserved for trips like this, but this coming trip wouldn’t be like any other trip. “It’s a weekend getaway with your mate,” she replied matter-of-factly.Her mate.That made her warm and queasy. Any thoughts about the Alpha made her warm and queasy. “His not my mate.” Unfortunately. Her friend scorned, looking somewhat peeved. “But he’s knotted you, right?” “Winona!” She scolded with disgust. She balled a shirt and threw it at her friend.“What? It’s not a bad question. In fact, it’s essential information,” Winon
Greg was already packing his things when a notification popped up on his screen. Already half inside his bag, he pulled out his notebook to free his hand. An email from his boss. Subject: Weekend Business Trip – Flight Testing SupervisionHi Greg,I hope you're doing well. I wanted to inform you that you’ll be accompanying me on an upcoming business trip this weekend.We'll be overseeing key testing phases, and your presence will be valuable in handling on-site documentation, coordinating with the technical team, and assisting in preliminary evaluations. It’s a great chance to observe the process up close and contribute directly.Please clear your weekend schedule, and I’ll be sending you the detailed itinerary, travel arrangements, and any prep materials by tomorrow. Be sure to bring all relevant documents, safety gear if applicable, and a notepad—there’ll be a lot to take in.Let me know if you have any questions or need help getting things ready.Best regards,Carisa Carson, Chie
It was an odd hour, Carrie checked on her alarm clock. Outside was still dark, and the only light in her room was a streak from the lamppost outside. She had no idea what time she fell asleep. Carrie felt sore in random spots but completely warm all over. She smiled, remembering the tender attention she had received the night before. The Alpha had explained what happened between him and Ava at the infirmary. The gossip chain got it all wrong, as always, and the fact that he ditched his peers for her was enough to assure Carrie he wasn’t—wouldn’t look at another. Once they sorted out the misunderstanding, he proposed they stop her punishment, but Carrie insisted on continuing. It was her fault that all of this happened. Now, her butt was still red. Moving caused her bruised skin to rub on the sheets, and each touch made her wince. Still, she snuggled closer to the Alpha until she felt his groin on her behind.Immediately, she felt a response. His arm tightened around her waist, his
Greg rubbed soothing circles on the Omega’s reddened behind. She winced when he touched the small cut she had gotten from the intense flogging they had done earlier. Carrie snuggled closer to him, her warm body curled up against him.He tightened his arm around her as he felt his cock waking up from its nap. She must have felt it too, because she reached down to rub his hardness softly in small movements of her wrist.He moaned. The motion wasn’t enough to get him off but it would do fine to keep him up until she was ready to be fucked again.“I never touched her,” he said. “Never would.”She looked up, bright blue doe eyes meeting his gaze in a question.“I just thought—” Carrie started, but he stopped her, placing a kiss on her head.“I understand. I should have been more careful.” He kissed her head again to reassure and to bide his time.