Special Delivery: Autumn: An Mpreg Romance Collection

by Leyla Hunt

  Special Delivery: Autumn

  An Mpreg Romance Collection

  Colbie Dunbar

  Harper B. Cole

  Jena Wade

  Leyla Hunt

  Kallie Frost

  Aria Grace

  Lorelei M. Hart

  Summer Chase

  Surrendered Press

  Surrendered Press

  Copyright © 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Can’t Escape Love

  1. Marc

  2. Steve

  3. Marc

  4. Steve

  5. Marc

  6. Steve

  7. Marc

  8. Steve

  9. Marc

  10. Steve

  Epilogue

  About Colbie Dunbar

  Finding His Purpose

  11. Sanford

  12. Archer

  13. Sanford

  14. Sanford

  15. Archer

  16. Sanford

  17. Archer

  More From Jena Wade

  Is This Seat Taken?

  18. Ian

  19. Julian

  20. Ian

  21. Julian

  22. Ian

  23. Julian

  24. Ian

  25. Julian

  26. Ian

  27. Julian

  About Harper B. Cole and Colbie Dunbar

  Bubble of Love

  28. Jamie

  29. Brad

  30. Jamie

  31. Brad

  32. Jamie

  Epilogue

  Also by Leyla Hunt

  His Omega Professor

  33. Oden

  34. Victor Morgan

  About Kallie Frost

  Virgin Omega

  35. Cyrus

  36. Flemming

  37. Cyrus

  38. Flemming

  39. Cyrus

  40. Flemming

  41. Cyrus

  Epilogue

  Also by Aria Grace & Lorelei M. Hart

  Special Delivery: Winter

  Can’t Escape Love

  by Colbie Dunbar

  One

  Marc

  Grading undergraduate papers was not my favorite pastime, but it had to be done. Though sitting in my office overlooking the college quad where generations of students had sat on the grass, studied, eaten lunch, and protested was the perfect place to do it. Surrounded by historic sandstone buildings and mature trees whose branches swayed in the gentle breeze, the courtyard laid bare its scars from wind, rain, and the thousands of feet that had traipsed over its cobblestones.

  I was getting carried away, and instead of trudging through pages of dense text and scribbling comments in red, I was thinking of my next novel. But my eyes were drawn to the outside, and my mind drifted away plotting out character arcs and storylines.

  Many of my colleagues graded online, but I insisted on my students handing in a hard copy as well as a version being submitted through the university’s online system.

  A knock at the door brought me back to the present. My colleague, Arthur, whose office was next door, bounded in, a huge grin on his face. He sank into an armchair and placed his feet on the desk while he took a bite from an apple.

  Arthur was newly married. And while I was delighted he’d found love, his nuptials had left me with a sense of loneliness and a gaping hole in my own life. We were best friends, and while I got on well with his husband, Samuel, compared to the days when Arthur and I had spent entire weekends in one another’s company, my new reality was rather bleak.

  “You know what you need, Marc?”

  “A fairy to wave her magic wand and grade these papers? That’s what you came to tell me, right? Fess up. You’ve been keeping her to yourself. Talk about selfish.” I folded my arms and gave him my best side-eye.

  “Nope. You’re so old-school doing it that way.” He tapped on the top assignment. “Aren’t they supposed to be anonymous?”

  I held up the front page with the student’s ID number and no name. “They are.”

  He sank his teeth into the apple and munched while my attention returned to the window. Twisting around, he followed my gaze. “What’s so interesting?” He gasped and sat up. “Please tell me you haven’t handed your heart to a student.” He waggled his finger, reminding me of my grandmother.

  I made a face and tossed a scrunched-up piece of paper that had scrawled ideas for the next novel at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.” We’d made a pact after we both landed a job at the same college, that we’d never be tempted to date a student. And I had no intention of going back on that.

  Arthur leaned across the desk and guided my head from staring out the window to looking at him. “As I was saying…”

  It was his favorite way of interrupting students when they were chatting instead of paying attention to his lecture. “Mmmm.”

  “You need to go on a date. You spend all day with undergrads, who are wonderful and all, but you have to get out and meet people your own age.”

  We were the same age, he and I. Mid-30s. I cocked my head and studied his face, all glowy and self-satisfied. Not only was he in love, but he was having regular sex—every night, according to him—and while I longed for companionship, I craved someone’s body pressed against mine, a tongue possessing my mouth while my length plowed into his body.

  “Samuel has a friend.”

  “If I had a dollar for every time you or one of my relatives started a sentence with “Dot dot dot has a friend.”

  “Don’t be silly. Nobody says dot dot dot.”

  Another sheet of paper with a failed plot line landed in his lap. “Why is it that when people get married, they instantly want to matchmake their friends?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? They want everyone to be as happy as they are.”

  That may be the case for some, but many newlyweds suffered from guilt at not being as present for their friends and wanted it to go away. But it wasn’t Arthur’s fault he’d fallen in love with a great guy, and I didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm for married life, so I answered with, “Maybe.”

  “What about… what’s his name from the chemistry lab? He was cute.”

  “George? He conducted an unauthorized experiment and…” I left the sentence unfinished.

  Arthur’s eyes bulged as he slapped a hand over his mouth and mumbled, “He blew up the lab?”

  “No,” I protested. “Not nearly as dramatic. Did some minor damage, but he was fired.” I glanced at the time. “Oh, shit. I gotta go.”

  “I was hoping you’d come round for dinner. Samuel’s cooking.”

  “Can’t.” I shoved the ungraded papers in my briefcase and locked the rest in my desk. “Doing an interview with a book blogger this evening.”

  Arthur bobbed up and down and clapped. “I’m so proud of you. How’s that going?”

  “Fine, I guess,” I replied as I hustled him out of my office. I didn’t have much experience with book promotion.

  “Lunch in the cafeteria tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  The blogger, Tim, asked thoughtful questions and had obviously read my novel, which you�
�d think was a given but I’d sat through questioning where the person had mixed me up with another author.

  He said the interview would be uploaded by the end of the week. “One last thing,” he said before we ended our conversation. “Sometimes the comments under the interview can be brutal if someone hasn’t enjoyed the book.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  He shrugged. “Just wanted to warn you not to take it personally.”

  After closing the computer, I nursed a glass of wine while I heated up leftovers for dinner. While I didn’t expect everyone to rave about my novel or like it, I’d never considered having haters! I’d eavesdropped on my students’ conversations about being trolled or worse, cancelled, but I didn’t live my life online as they did.

  The phone dinged. It was Arthur with a link to an escape room experience. And a message saying, I’ve booked this for 3pm Saturday. Be there. I tossed the phone away, my mind occupied with more immediate issues such as if my dinner was ready.

  Two

  Steve

  Where are they? The room was booked for three. And it was five minutes til. I’d made space in my schedule for this because escape rooms were a great way to destress. The guy managing the escape room gave me a look as if to say, “Are you sure you’ve got friends?” He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall and muttered under his breath. “No refunds.”

  I tapped my fingers on the counter as I sent a message to Rob, my friend who’d booked the room. There was no point doing it by myself. Half the fun was going with other people to solve the clues and get out before the deadline. Instead of being locked in a room by myself for an hour, I could be studying or sleeping.

  A car pulled up outside, and while I couldn’t see it, the pounding footsteps and panting had me thinking at least one of my escape room buddies had arrived. But when the guy yanked open the door and charged in yelling, “Sorry, I’m late,” it was a stranger, though he was vaguely familiar. Probably someone from campus. We weren’t far from there, and with this being a college town, it was easy to assume most people were connected to the university.

  The newcomer’s eyes darted around the waiting area. It was me and the bored assistant who was playing a game on his phone. “Am I too late? Did they start without me?”

  Don’t look at me, buddy. But what I very much wanted to say was, “Look at me,” in blinking neon lights. He was slightly built, and about my height. With his hair in disarray due to the wind and his dark-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose, he reminded me of an adorable puppy. Put your tongue on me and I’ll moan for you!

  “You together?” the assistant asked.

  I shook my head.

  “My booking is for three people at three o’clock,” the sexy stranger said as he leaned on the counter. “Arthur Langston.”

  “So’s mine.” I joined him at the desk and my arm brushed over his. He glanced at me and then looked away.

  “Hold on a minute,” the assistant said. His ears were pink, and judging by the flush creeping out from under his shirt, he was getting flustered. “You both have a booking under Arthur Langston.”

  “No, just me,” the other guy said. An alpha, judging by his scent. “Unless you’re a friend of Arthur’s too.”

  I could be if you wanted me too. But instead of saying that, I said, “Nope. Mine’s under Walters.”

  The young assistant who couldn’t have been more than a junior in high school rubbed his chin and his eyes were wary as they darted from side to side. Doesn’t want to tell us there’s been a giant screwup. He needs an escape route. I chuckled.

  The newcomer’s eyes slid in my direction, and he raised one brow. I’d always wanted to do that but mine either stubbornly both rose or stayed put. “Something funny?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” His piercing gaze rested on me for a few seconds and then returned to the kid who was on the phone begging for a higher-up to help him. But it was Sunday afternoon and no one was saving his ass. His plaintive voice as he wailed there’d been a mistake, there was only one room available. It tugged at my heart, along with his eyes filling with tears.

  I took pity on him and got behind the computer. After scanning the bookings, I glanced at the alpha. Thinking he’d been a Billy-No-Mates, I had to accept I was wrong. “You’re a week early, Arthur.”

  “I’m Marc. Arthur’s my friend who made the booking.”

  “It’s next Saturday.”

  “Shit.” He smacked his forehead.

  The young assistant put a hand over the phone. “You mean it’s his mistake, not mine?

  I nodded.

  “I love you,” he wailed. No need to go overboard, kid.

  My phone beeped. Sorry. Flat tire. Have to cancel.

  The alpha blinked owlishly behind his glasses.

  “My friends can’t make it. How about we do the escape room together?” I suggested.

  “With me?”

  “Ummm. Yeah. We’re both here, and it seems a shame to waste it. Besides, I wanna make this kid’s day a little easier.” I jerked my head at the assistant whose head was bobbing while his gaze swung between me and the alpha.

  “Well, I…”

  “Please say yes,” the kid pleaded. “My boss chewed my ass out and it had nothing to do with me.”

  The alpha nibbled his lower lip. He’s doing this on purpose. I’m sure of it. Then it hit me. I was going to be locked in a room for sixty minutes with this guy if he agreed. I nudged him. “Do it for…” I fixed my gaze on the young kid.

  “Kenny.”

  “For Kenny.”

  “I’m outnumbered two against one.”

  “Save those math skills for when we get inside.” I held out my hand. “Steve.”

  “Marcello. Or Marc for short. Marc with a C.” His name was as sexy as his ass.

  Both Marc and I gazed at Kenny “Are you the gamemaster, Kenny?”

  “I am,” he said proudly and added, “Follow me.”

  “Hope he’s better at that than checking the bookings,” Marc whispered to me. “Or we might have to phone for help.”

  “No phones,” I told him pointing to signs on the wall. “There’ll be lockers outside the escape room.”

  Marc’s mouth twitched, a sure sign he was nervous or unhappy about being unable to communicate with the outside world. I patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. We’ll be able to chat to Kenny.”

  “Here we are.” Kenny pointed to the lockers with digital locks. “Ready?” he asked.

  He opened the door. The room was lit up which I was thankful for. Some escape rooms were in darkness, but I guessed that was an advanced level. My friend, Rob, had never done one previously and he’d booked the room.

  What were the odds Rob would be a no-show and Marc made a mistake with the date.

  “See you in one hour,” Kenny said as he handed us the first clue and waved.

  “If not before,” I told him.

  The door locked behind us, and we peered around the room. It was staged as a living room but not a contemporary one. It looked more like the 1950s except there was a huge-ass digital clock on the wall. The large red numbers showing 59.30.

  “Come on. We’re wasting time,” I told Marc as I pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope. “What?” I yelled as I read out the words written in huge letters and showed them to my companion. Gotcha. LOL. I’m not giving you the first clue. Go look. Love Kenny.

  “Books,” Marc yelled. “Flip through them. There might be something hidden in the pages.”

  After tossing novels left and right, banging large tomes, and flicking through countless pages, a single page fell to the floor.

  We grabbed it at the same time and it ripped. “Shit!” It was a word search. Whatever word remained that wasn’t part of the search was the clue. I handed Marc a pencil from the desk and we got to work, but I was distracted by his cologne. All fluffy and fruity. He solved seven words while I managed two.

  “Desk!”

  Three


  Marc

  Concentrating on solving the clues was not easy with Steve by my side. Not that he wasn’t great at it. He was. But his presence was distracting. His aroma, his infectious enthusiasm, the excitement in his voice when we worked through the puzzles and reached the next stage. “Yes,” he yelled as he jumped up and down and fist bumped me.

  I was glad this was a beginner escape room. The ones where you had to complete equations or grope around in the dark were not my scene. Though if it’d been a literary one, I would have done okay.

  “Can you reach it?” I asked Steve as he stood on a chair and fumbled with a light bulb. This particular one was not working, and the last clue had been, “What’s supposed to shine but can’t?” I was holding the chair steady, but his butt was close to my face. My glasses brushed against soft denim. His ass fitted snugly in his jeans, and while I was thankful it wasn’t his crotch in my face, I was tempted to angle my head and take a peek.

  His scent clogged my nostrils and my glasses fogged as he stood on tiptoes and unscrewed the bulb. He grunted and his body lurched to the side. Without thinking, I grabbed his hips and righted him. My face was buried in his ass. “You okay?” I asked.