Camp Lake Omega

by Penelope Peters

  I had the odd feeling that Cammy knew a lot more about it than I did – which was a reversal, since she was eighteen, and I was thirty.

  “Maybe I should let you teach the oldest campers,” I said. Cammy laughed.

  “No way! You’re the best, Mr. Ito. If it hadn’t been for you – there’s no way I’d even be here right now.”

  Cammy sounded too earnest to be joking.

  “I’m serious,” she said, seeing my disbelief. “First week of school, after my last summer here as a camper? Two omegas in my class presented, right in the middle of the day. I was standing next to Dorothy, too. If it hadn’t been for your advice and help and everything else – gosh, Mr. Ito, I don’t even like Dorothy. If I’d ended up bonded to her because I didn’t know how to control myself? Ugh.” Cammy gave a shudder. “I’d definitely rather be here and locked up to keep Molly safe. But I feel better knowing you can help out,” continued Cammy, ignoring the fact that I hadn’t actually agreed to lock her up. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

  “No, I think that covers it,” I said, still stunned. When I sent her back to the campers, her step seemed a lot lighter for our conversation.

  How anyone could be looking forward to losing control of themselves… of being caught up in a haze of pheromones and sexual lust…. It didn’t make sense to me. I’d always thought Cammy had a good head on her shoulders – but to actually want to experience that sensation of losing herself in a mindless rut?

  Must have been nice, being young enough to be innocent about it all.

  Staying away from Jim should have been the easiest thing in the world. I mean, there was an entire lake between us, right? All I had to do was stay on my side of it. All he had to do was stay on his.

  Which is why it kind of pissed me off when I headed into lunch and saw one of Lake Omega’s canoes being paddled over by a counselor in a blue polo shirt.

  I didn’t need three guesses to figure out who it was. Hell, I didn’t need even two.

  “Hi!” said Jim brightly when I waded out into the lake to meet him. He wasn’t meeting my eye, but he stowed his oar next to him as I grabbed hold of the canoe to anchor it. “We got a couple of your packages by mistake in this morning’s mail, so Bob asked me to bring them over.”

  Likely story – actually, it was, since I could see the bag of mail clearly marked for our camp in the canoe at Jim’s feet. But Bob wasn’t an idiot. There was no way he wasn’t aware of Jim’s presentation, or what a damn fool chance it was sending an omega into a camp full of alphas.

  “Bob, a beta, asked you, an omega, to bring a few packages over to a camp made up entirely of alphas,” I said flatly.

  “Well, maybe not me exactly,” admitted Jim. “He can’t leave the camp right now, one of the campers is having an asthma attack. And none of the other counselors can paddle a canoe half as well as I can.”

  I couldn’t deny that – I’d been thinking the same thing, watching him. Jim had nice, even strokes, and was clearly strong, given how fast he’d been making the canoe go. He’d even managed to slow its acceleration as he drew near me, which had made it much easier to hold him steady once I’d grabbed hold.

  No doubt about it – the kid knew his way around a canoe. He’d done all right with a broken oar the night before. If I hadn’t been so annoyed, I might have been impressed.

  (Okay, maybe I was a little impressed. Not like I’d tell him that.)

  “Doesn’t matter how good you are in a canoe,” I said, glaring at him. “You’re an omega. What if one of the kids had come down to meet you?”

  Jim grinned at me. “You think I’m good in a canoe?”

  “You’re deliberately putting yourself in danger for the sake of a few boxes of… what? Art supplies? DVDs?”

  Jim’s eyes narrowed. He picked up the bag of mail and shoved it at me. I just managed to grab it before it fell into the water.

  “I’m capable of taking care of myself, you know. Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m an orgasm waiting to happen. And anyway – you came over to our camp last night. What was stopping you from causing mayhem, huh? Why shouldn’t I be able to come over here and be perfectly safe?”

  “Because that’s the way the world works,” I snapped. “These kids don’t have any kind of self-control – especially the older ones. It’s too dangerous for you.”

  Jim stared at me for a long moment. I could see him taking in the words, rolling them over in his head, considering them from every angle.

  “I disagree,” he said firmly.

  I sighed. The bag was cumbersome, even though it was light, and I knew there’d be an audience on the shore as soon as lunch let out. The last thing I wanted was any of the campers to see me talking to Jim. “Look, Jim – I appreciate you bringing the supplies, but tell Bob that next time they can wait until he has a free moment. I don’t want you to come back here alone like this. It’s not safe for you.”

  Jim’s mouth quirked. “Nice to know you’re thinking about my welfare.”

  “I’m not! I mean – I am, but – look, your welfare is beside the point. That is—”

  Dammit. Jim’s eyes were twinkling. Fucking twinkling. “So… if I could get over here without anyone knowing about it, you’d be okay with seeing me again?”

  “I don’t see how this could be safe for you,” I said firmly. “Ever.”

  “Huh,” said Jim, cocking his head. He gave a shrug as he pulled out the oar. “Not a no, anyway. I’ll take that.”

  “What?!”

  With one strong stroke, Jim steered the canoe away from me. Once he’d cleared me, he turned the canoe around and headed back across the lake.

  “See you ‘round, Zach!” he called, his voice already floating on the breeze over the water.

  “That’s not what I said at all!” I shouted after him, but he didn’t turn around or acknowledge me. I glared after him for a moment, then turned and splashed my way back to shore.

  He’s going to come back. The little fucker is going to come back.

  For some reason, I couldn’t figure out which of my reactions was stronger: pissed off, or excited as hell.

  I spent most of the rest of the day going through the paperwork involved with running a camp. There’s always a shit-ton of paperwork, especially at the beginning of the summer: medical forms, food order forms, registration forms. I’d gone into town first thing that morning to pick up the requested paint for the cabins, and by lunchtime, the air was filled with paint fumes and a whole lot of yelling from Phoenix Cabin, who was apparently having more trouble with their glitter than they’d anticipated.

  In short, the flames that represented the rebirth of their phoenix weren’t glittering so much as they were reflective. I had to make a second run into town shortly before dinner to get more paint so they could fix up their mistake the next day.

  I couldn’t get my mind off Lake Omega or Jim, though. Every time there was a break in the thousands of things I needed to do, I found my gaze drifting over across the lake to where the neat blue cabins were lined up all in a row. I could just make out the blue polo shirts that the counselors all wore, and the hundred or so kids that filled the camp.

  No way to tell which of the blue shirts was Jim. But I counted every time – not that it did much good, because I wasn’t even sure how many counselors were over there, and besides, not all the counselors would have been outside anyway. I couldn’t stand the idea that at any minute, Jim was going to pop out of the bushes and shout, “HERE I AM, COME AT ME.”

  I don’t think the campers noticed. Reba did, thought. Every time she caught me looking, she’d bring my attention back to something else on our side of the water.

  “So, Boss,” she said at dinner, so casual that she wasn’t even looking at me. “Someone special over at Lake Omega these days?”

  “What? No! Of course not. What are you, crazy? Jeez, Reba, what the hell,” I said, digging into that night’s chicken and potatoes.

  “M
mm,” said Reba, still not looking at me. “Just I keep catching you looking.”

  “It’s a place to look,” I said, sawing at the chicken, which seemed incredibly tough. Or maybe the knife was dull. Probably dull.

  “’Cause, you know, I wouldn’t mind or anything.”

  The knife slipped in my hand and sent the chicken flying off the table and onto the floor. The chow hall burst into applause and laughter. I shot a salute at the kids and then picked up my chicken with a scowl.

  “Wouldn’t mind what, Rebe?”

  “If you wanted to take my crown as Biggest Slut of Camp, this summer.”

  Thank God none of the campers’ families – or the campers themselves – knew about Reba’s reputation. They’d never have agreed to trust us with their precious children for a single second. Every summer, Reba made it her goal to seduce as many of Bob’s counselors in the omega camp as possible in a shorter amount of time than she’d done it the previous summer. Last year, it’d taken her five weeks to get through his entire roster. This year, she was aiming for four. I was a bit worried about what she would do when she was down to counting in days, but that was a ways off yet. Hopefully she’d settle down before then.

  “I think I’ll pass, thanks,” I said dryly.

  “You’re just a bit… tense, that’s all. And I can’t remember the last time you got laid. Actually – there’s a pool going with the other counselors, and I could use a couple of bucks, if you want to give me a hint?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “And what the hell are you guys doing betting on my sex life?”

  “Lack thereof, actually. We’re also betting on when you do get laid next, so if admitting your virginity is too embarrassing, you could always give me a hint there, too.”

  “Fuck off, Reba.”

  Reba nodded approvingly. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly the idea. Just… not with me. No offense, but you don’t exactly yank my chain. Betas or bust, man. Betas or bust.”

  “Thank God, or I’d have to hire new staff here every summer.”

  “I shouldn’t have much trouble beating my record, though,” mused Reba. “Most of the counselors over there are from last year.”

  “I’d think that would work against you. They’ve got to talk to each other.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve already made plans for at least two threesomes this summer.”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned.

  “Prude,” said Reba. Somehow she made it sound non-judgmental. “The trick is to make sure they know the score, then there’s no regrets, no lingering hard feelings, everyone’s happy. Win-win.”

  “The score,” I said flatly.

  “Yup. Just a bit of fun on the side, no strings. And I always leave ‘em with a smile on their face.”

  “You’re a real inspiration to us all, Reba,” I said dryly.

  “Nah, my real conquest this summer are the newbies. Two of ‘em this year – I’ve got the 411 on the girl, her name’s Tracy, African-American lady with dreads, nice and round, super cute booty—”

  “How the hell do you know that?” I asked, suspicious. “Wait. You wouldn’t know anything about canoes showing up in the middle of the night, would you, Reba?”

  “Oh, please. Like you’d catch me dead in a canoe. Brock Ivanov in Bear Cabin took some snaps for me while he and his parents were dropping off his little sister. That kid’ll do anything in exchange for Snickers bars. I’m giving Tracy… three weeks at the outside. It’s the other beta that’s got me stumped – I don’t have any intel on him, except his name’s something like Kim – Tim—”

  My stomach plummeted. “Jim.”

  “Yeah, that’s it, Jim. All I know is he’s young and new and apparently a cutie. Which totally works in my favor – the younger they are, the faster they fall. Especially if my reputation proceeds me – which it totally will, the first threesome’s tomorrow—Boss? Are you growling?”

  Shit. I’d have to think fast; growling was typically a response for when an alpha felt their territory was being threatened by another alpha. Reba wasn’t an idiot. Me growling when she mentioned trying to seduce Jim—

  “Boss, you’re growling again,” said Reba. She sounded positively delighted.

  I swallowed hard and gripped the sides of my dinner tray. I hadn’t even felt the growl in my chest until Reba had said something the first time. But the second? I’d felt it, and couldn’t have done a thing to stop it.

  “That wasn’t a growl,” I said. “That was… me clearing my throat.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Reba, peering closer. “You know, if you’re thinking about beating the beta bush, I gotta tell ya – with our equipment, the boys can be a bit trickier than the girls—”

  “And this conversation has now passed into inappropriate territory for the chow hall,” I said firmly, standing up. “Hey, look, there’s chocolate cream pie for dessert. Do you want a slice?”

  “Sure, I’m gonna be working it off tomorrow night anyway.”

  I rolled my eyes and headed for the desserts.

  “Don’t forget the whipped cream, Boss!” called Reba. “That’s advice for life and pie, by the way!”

  There were titters from some of the campers, but most of them weren’t paying attention to us any longer – which was just as well, because I didn’t really relish the idea of any of them seeing me walk so stiffly across the chow hall to where the cafeteria workers were laying out slices of pie for anyone to take. My cheeks were burning and my blood was warm, and now that I was aware of it, I could still feel the agitation that Reba’s seduction plans—

  Grrr.

  Well, fuck, if I couldn’t even think the blasted word without wanting to go all territorial. And I’d only kissed him once.

  That was exactly why I tried to stay away from omegas. It sent my own pheromones on a fucking power trip.

  I grabbed two slices of pie, stalked back to the table, and ate mine in complete silence. Reba, thankfully, didn’t say another word to me – she was already deep in discussion with her seatmate on the other side about the next day’s hike into the woods.

  The sun was just touching the tops of the trees when I headed out of the mess hall and in the direction of the evening’s activities. I could see the lights from Camp Lake Omega glowing yellow against the dark slate-blue of the lake. The campers were just shadows in the rapidly dimming light.

  All the territorial rage I’d felt earlier was gone. Instead, watching the lights and the movement, knowing that somewhere over there, Jim was laughing and smiling and talking with the other counselors, maybe patting a camper on the back, soothing them as their first day came to a close – all I felt then was a sense of peace. Contentment.

  And under that… longing. I could picture Jim doing all of that, sure… but I couldn’t be certain he was, and the uncertainty wasn’t so much unsettling as it was just a box waiting to be check-marked.

  Lights started to blink on the cabins behind me. Dark soon – time to put the camp to sleep. Usually the first day of camp left me feeling exhausted – but confident for the rest of the summer. Now, however… the sense of relief I felt was better suited for the last day, not the first. Why should having gone a few hours without seeing Jim feel like such an accomplishment?

  Worse – why did I have the feeling like accomplishment was missing the point entirely?

  The sky was already that deep electric blue that comes shortly before the stars start shining overhead. It’d be an early start in the morning and I needed sleep. I shoved the thoughts of Jim from my mind and headed up to my cabin.

  Then again… it’s not like there’d be any harm in thinking about Jim, would there?

  The cocky grin on Jim’s face. The way his eyes didn’t leave mine. The easy grace of him, even when he was falling into the lake, and the long, powerful strokes as he paddled the canoe closer, slowing as he approached so that anticipation built until he was close enough to touch.

  The way his mouth opened into an imperfect oval. The shiny darkn
ess there, wet and warm, and the way it would fit perfectly around me….

  I made it back to my cabin in record time. For once, I didn’t register the horrific screech of the door as it closed – I hadn’t bothered to hit it with oil in two years, since it worked as an early warning system against pranking campers. I don’t even remember how I managed to divest myself of my clothes. For all I knew, I hadn’t. All I know was that I was flat on my back on my bed and my dick was in my hand, already hot and heavy and hard.

  Jim’s touch on my cock.

  He wouldn’t grab it, not as tight as I was holding. He’d circle it with his fingers, rub up and down. He’d been bonded before. He’d know how to touch an alpha cock, he’d know to concentrate on the shaft, how to draw down the foreskin until the head emerged, and then he’d know how to touch the rim, drawing his finger in the indention, flicking at the veins that emerged there.

  He’d know about the knot at the base of my cock, soft and spongy now, but which would thicken and grow during his estrus, responding to the pheromones he put out. During intercourse, it’d lodge itself inside him, lock us together as we both came and came and came. But for this, just a hand job – it probably wouldn’t inflate. He’d know how to cup it in his palm, to let his warmth seep into it.

  He’d know how to lick up the shaft, cover the head with the flat of his tongue, suck it in as he cupped my knot, let his fingers twine around my balls. His cheeks would hollow out with the force of his sucking – I could feel his hair under my palm, soft and wild. The breath from his nose on the coarse hairs of my treasure trail, the deep pull of him, the whimpering sounds he was making…

  The whimpering sounds I was making.

  I came in a rush, semen hitting my bare stomach. I caught it with my other hand, kept it from hitting my face, and rubbed it into my skin before I could even think about it. Alpha instinct, marking my territory, though I’d rather have marked Jim with it.