His Secret Billionaire Omega: M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG (Cafe Om Book 6)

by Harper B. Cole

  I love you. I can’t wait to have you in my arms.

  Why couldn’t teleportation be a thing?

  Same.

  I pulled out my laptop to work and found myself searching real estate sites again instead of being productive. It had been happening a lot lately. I enjoyed being at Killian’s, well, our house, but with our new menagerie, it was a bit cramped.

  After Killian had flown to be with his mom, I walked into an empty house. Coop arrived shortly after with our babies, but for a solid half hour, it was just me, and the loneliness slammed into me hard. Which made no sense since I had seen Killian not long before, but I learned a long time ago you can’t always control your feels.

  When I opened the door to the spare room that first day, remembering Killian’s promise of a surprise, I burst into tears. He had somehow managed to finish the repairs in the room without me knowing. But it was so much more than that. In between the two windows hung a sign that read “Whisper.” It was one of those popular faux distressed wooden signs, they were in all the discount stores, most of containing bible quotes or inspirational shit, ugly as could be, but the meaning behind this one transformed it to the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He had made a home for our snake before we had mated. It was all I could do not to turn back around to the airport and get on a plane. The only thing that stopped me was my promise to take care of his fur babies, our fur babies. Whisper and Blubby could be self-sufficient for a day or two if need be.

  As much as I adored this place I now called home, my apartment all but abandoned, with the addition of Whisper and Mr. Jenkins, it was crowded at best, and that was without setting up an office, which I was going to need since leaving everything on the kitchen table during crunch times wouldn’t be ideal now that I was sharing a house with a cat, let alone Killian when he returned. I also had a feeling that if, no, when Killain’s mom was discharged, she was going to need someone to stay with her, and Coop was out of the question with his kickbutt internship, even if Killian would concede the position of caretaker, which I knew he wouldn’t. A house with an in-law cottage was ideal, but Killian was still weird on the money thing, so I didn’t want to push. That didn’t stop me from looking, and far too often.

  Thankfully, the airport was only closed for an hour, and it was only two hours before they got things back on track. Then I was on a plane, headed to see my alpha.

  I managed to travel with only a carry-on, which for me was a miracle in and of itself, and I headed straight to the taxi loading area, hoping to make it to the hotel before midnight, when the scent of maple filled my nose. He was here. I spun around. He was only feet away. I flung myself at him, needing to be in his arms.

  “I missed you so much,” I mumbled into his neck before inhaling deeply. “I told you I would snag a taxi.”

  “I missed you too much to wait.” He smothered my face with kisses and a sense of home filled me. I was where I belonged, with my alpha.

  My brain knew he needed to be here with his mom. My heart even knew it, but my heart also longed for him to be home, with me. Once the doctors figured out the cause of her illness and how to treat it, new decisions would be made, but for now we were in limbo.

  I was under no illusion that the doctors would have continued caring for her without my money. If I hadn’t been paying, they would have shunted her off to a nursing facility. As wrong as that was on a humanitarian level, I was happy on a personal one. She mattered to me, even if I had yet to meet her.

  “Let’s go,” I said halfheartedly, wishing once again that the teleportation option was available. I wanted to be alone with my alpha, preferably naked, but letting him go long enough to make that happen was a struggle. It didn’t help that I was close to my heat.

  If I went into heat, anyways. The results of my blood work were less than ideal, even if they weren’t completely discouraging. The doctor told me that while I could get pregnant, it probably would take more than one try, and I might not have heats as regularly as I expected. That was no surprise; I’d never been as regular as the other omegas I worked with who could plan their heat leaves out to the day.

  Killian and I had discussed it and decided what happened happened, and that worked for me. It meant no condoms ever—winning. And best case scenario, we had a baby in the next few heats. Worst case scenario—I didn’t even want to think about that, but with my alpha and furbies, which was my new nickname for our menagerie, fur or not, life would be good.

  “You need to let me go first.” He chuckled, but started walking with me still wrapped around him. I guess the letting go was optional.

  35

  Killian

  As much as I wanted to just take Marcus back to the hotel, strip him down and touch him in every way possible, I hadn't been sleeping much, and it was like my body recognized that it could relax now that he was here. Mama had been... not good. I couldn't say if she was deteriorating, since she hadn't told anyone anything was wrong beforehand, but she'd had four more seizures and occasionally seemed as if she didn't know where she was, why she was in the hospital, or a million other things that should have stuck in her mind. I lived in fear of the moment she didn't recognize me. The doctors said it probably wasn't Alzheimer’s, but they still hadn't been able to rule much out, let alone reach a conclusive diagnosis.

  I pulled Marcus's back to my front as we rode the elevator to my floor in the hotel, just draped over him, taking as much comfort as I could from his presence. In the hotel room, we wrapped around each other like starfish, clinging, arms everywhere, and when I pulled him down to the bed, it was just to cuddle, too tired and too relaxed to do much else than lay there enjoying the sandalwood aroma that was Marcus enveloping me, his body nestled against mine, warming me. We'd built so much anticipation, waiting for this moment... and phone sex, even video sex, just didn't cut it... but now... I couldn't keep my eyes open.

  "I really want to have sex..." I mumbled, my brain already drifting off to sleep easily, in a way it hadn't since I had left Marcus back home.

  "Of course you do. I'm irresistible," Marcus teased. "But we have plenty of time. Get some rest now. I'll be here when you wake up."

  I woke a while later in a dark room, the knowledge that my mate was asleep in my arms permeating my consciousness. The hotel clock said it was only just past midnight. I'd been out. I slipped from the bed to use the restroom and left the light on and the door open after I finished. Marcus must have gotten up at some point, because his carry on was open and empty. I slid open the drawer I had kept for him, and it was full now. I crawled back in bed to wrap around my mate, and he snuggled back against me.

  "You up?" I whispered.

  Marcus reached back for my hand in answer and pulled it forward to press against his satin-clad cock. "Getting there," he mumbled.

  I laughed. "That's not what I meant, but I can make use of it."

  "Mmm. Please do."

  Marcus rolled on his back and I pulled down the covers. I'd fallen asleep in my clothes, but Marcus had stripped down to just his underwear. I let my hand drift over his pale chest, his nipple rings the only interruption on his smooth skin, remembering how his body felt under my own. I didn't narrow in on any one body part, focused on claiming every inch of him with my touch, from the tips of his ears down to the skin between his toes. He panted under my touch, his body and mind wakening slowly.

  He finally reached for me, grabbing a handful of my shirt to pull me down. Before his lips claimed mine, he protested, "You're wearing too much clothing." But he didn't give me a chance to respond.

  The night before I had left, the night we had mated, had been the most intensely intimate night of my life, until now. Neither of us were in a hurry, as if afraid that if we moved too fast, the night would be gone, disappeared in a blaze of passion. We took it slowly, teasing each other. Marcus stripped me piece by piece. I worshiped every line of his body. And this time, when I entered him, it was face to face. My thrusts were long and deep, slowly taking us both to
a place where worries didn't exist. And when I finally did speed up, my hand working Marcus's length in time with my thrusts, we came as one, my knot locking us together, a bliss that seemed endless, out of time and space, a place where only the two of us existed.

  When I came back to earth, I lay on top of Marcus, who was idly playing with the hair on my arms.

  "Sorry," I grumbled, rolling to my back and pulling him with me. My knot was still fairly firm. "That was..." I couldn't find the words.

  "The best sex ever?"

  I sighed, an echo of pleasure still rumbling through me. "To say the least. Worth waiting for?"

  Marcus stretched with a groan. "Definitely. But can we nix the waiting part?"

  "If I have anything to say about it, absolutely."

  "So… ready to go again?" Marcus waggled his eyebrows outrageously.

  I groaned. "The spirit is willing but the body is weak."

  Marcus snuggled in to my chest. "I suppose I can wait a little bit, then."

  I drifted, half-awake as I felt Marcus's body loosen in sleep. When my knot finally calmed down enough to slip from his body, I gently rolled him to the side and got us a washcloth to clean up, then hurriedly snuggled in bed again. I was already dreading him leaving me, but that was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, he was in my arms, and that was what mattered.

  36

  Marcus

  Hospitals were never fun. Not when I was there for foundation business and especially not when I went to meet my mate’s mother for the first time.

  The nurses greeted Killian as we passed—no surprise given the amount of time he had spent there the past few weeks. It was no small part of me that worried that he was going to collapse under the weight of the stress without his work, mate, and fur babies to ground and distract him. But that was a fight I was never going to win, even if I tried. We joked about which one of us was more stubborn, especially when it came to money. So far, it was a draw.

  His mother was in the infectious disease ward for no other reason than the doctors couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had contracted something, and the team’s lead doctor said his gut felt that was more likely than something genetic. The ward was creepy. All of the people who worked there suited up before entering a patient’s room, although thankfully Mama, which Killian already told me that under no circumstances would I call her anything else, wasn’t under such stringent guidelines.

  “Hi, Mama,” Killian called into the room. His mother was sitting up and eating breakfast.

  She looked up and her face went still with shock. “Killian, you said you were bringing Marcus by. You didn’t tell me… who arranged this? Was it Marcus? You need to… my hair!”

  I knew the minute she began babbling that she knew me and had more than likely met me…. as my pseudonym. I thought back to all the events my publisher had conned me into going to before I put my foot down. I loved my readers, but keeping a pen name a secret when people were snapping your picture left and right and posting on social media was becoming increasingly difficult.

  Killian looked worried, and I remembered he’d said one of her symptoms was getting mixed up and confused. Damn it. He thought she was having an episode. “What are you talking about, Mama? This is—”

  “I know who this is.” She sat up a little straighter. “Romeo DiMarco.”

  “Umm, nice to meet you.” Talk about an awkward moment. Killian and I had talked about my writing career a little over the past few weeks, but the subject of pen names never came up, probably because other things usually arose before we got to it… and that seemed to always take precedence. “My everyday name is Marcus.” I held out my hand, but she was having none of it, pulling me into a hug.

  “You’re mated to Romeo DiMarco!” She wagged her finger at Killian, a smile on her face. “You sly boy. Good on you.”

  For the first time since I walked in, I was able to get a good look at her. Her spirits were bright given the situation, but her eyes were sunken and dull, her skin tinged almost gray. Her very unwashed hair told me that standing up long enough to clean it was a challenge. She was not holding up well despite the façade she was trying to present.

  “Would somebody explain to me what is going on?” Poor Killian sounded so confused.

  “Remember when I said I wrote books?” I went to his side, wrapping my arm around his middle.

  “Yes…”

  “My pen name is Romeo DiMarco. Usually people don’t recognize me, though. My author photo is photoshopped to almost deceptive levels.” There was no almost to it. I wore over the top clothing with a hat to shadow my face and then had the photographer change my proportions. It was not the most honest approach, but the publishers were adamant I had to have a headshot and it was just easier than fighting them.

  “You probably don’t remember me, but I was at the Long Island Romance Palooza.”

  I groaned as it all fell into place. We may have both been judges in a Mr. Palooza competition… tequila may have been involved.

  “What happens at Romance Palooza—” she started.

  “—stays at Romance Palooza,” I finished

  I liked her already. Actually, I already had before I walked into the room. Anyone who brought up such an amazing alpha as mine was fabulous in my book.

  “You’re him? The guy who… Next topic.” Killian finally caught up. His mother had won a contest proving she was my biggest fan, and the prize had been an all-expenses paid trip to the Romance Palooza. It appeared Killian was piecing things together correctly. At least it was distracting him from the situation at hand.

  “Nope, not changing the topic.” Mama giggled like a school girl, the little sparkle in her eye telling me she was playing him like a fiddle and relishing his discomfort. “You’re mated to one of the all-time biggest romance authors around and you want me to sit here and not talk about it?”

  “Look at him.” Killian pointed at me, his face burning red. “He’s the color of a fire engine.” I turned his finger around so it faced himself, making the statement true.

  “Oh, he wrote this one series about a fire station and each book followed a different fireman.” She fanned herself. Killian buried his head into my shoulder, his fingers in his ears, not that I could blame him. If either of my godmothers had teased me the way Killian’s mom was teasing him, I’d want to die a little, too. “I’ll stop,” she promised, although I was unsure if that was true.

  I was grateful for the momentary reprieve, though, for both Killian and myself. “I appreciate it, Mama. And just for that, I am going to make sure you get my next book before it is released.” Her face lit up as she clapped in over-exaggerated glee.

  “And I do remember you. You were one of the winners from the publisher’s big giveaway.” I accidentally on purpose skipped the tequila part.

  “That’s the only reason I could go. Long Island’s idea of reasonable accommodation just isn’t.”

  “Long Island?” A voice I didn’t recognize cut in.

  “Hello, Doctor Kuyper.” Mama answered. “Yes. This is my new son-in-law and it turns out we met on Long Island—when was it? Almost a year and a half ago now.

  “Something like that.” I shrugged.

  “Why didn’t I think to ask? Of course…” the doctor mumbled to himself.

  “Of course what?” Killian asked.

  “I’m not saying it is, but Long Island has a huge Lyme Disease problem and I never thought to test for it because you don’t live in a risk area. But untreated Lyme could easily look like Mrs. Daye’s symptoms.”

  “Wouldn’t she have a bullseye or something?” I didn’t know much about Lyme, but I did know that anytime someone posted a picture of a bug bite someone mentioned if there was a bullseye, you have Lyme. Because, you know, everyone on social media is now a doctor.

  “Not necessarily.” He tapped the stylus on his tablet a few times. “Ok, I’m going to go order the tests and treatment.”

  “Treatment even though it could be so
mething else?” I didn’t blame her for asking. She had been through so much already.

  “It is only IV antibiotics to start, and if it is Lyme, we want to start treatment ASAP. The test results aren’t a hundred percent, so if you start to feel better it can help confirm a positive result.”

  IVs didn’t sound “only” to me, but then again, I only had a hint of what she was going through. I hadn’t pushed Killian, wanting to use our time to distract him so he got a few moments peace from the stress he carried.

  “I didn’t think Lyme disease was so serious.” Killian was talking into the air, not even looking at anyone, almost as if he were processing aloud. I gave his hand a squeeze.

  “It isn’t if caught early. She may need some long-term treatments to kick this bad boy if it comes out positive, but this is the least scary of the things you have been tested for since you came in, so let’s cross our fingers.”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but, Mama, I hope you have Lyme disease.” Killian’s tone was teasing, but there was no joke to his words.

  “Me too,” Mama and I said together, giggling, hope finally entering the room.

  37

  Killian

  The night morning after Marcus flew back was difficult. I didn't want him to leave, though I was feeling more hopeful with the new plan of action. But Coop could only stay a couple nights before he left to start his internship, and Marcus wouldn't hear of anyone outside of the family watching the pups. I didn’t push him about asking his brother when he didn’t volunteer him as an option.