Omega Teacher’s Secret

by Anna Wineheart

  Omega Teacher’s Secret

  Anna Wineheart

  Contents

  1. Ian

  2. Brad

  3. Ian

  4. Ian

  5. Brad

  6. Brad

  7. Brad

  8. Brad

  9. Ian

  10. Ian

  11. Brad

  12. Ian

  13. Ian

  14. Ian

  15. Brad

  16. Brad

  17. Brad

  18. Ian

  19. Ian

  20. Brad

  21. Brad

  22. Ian

  23. Brad

  24. Brad

  25. Ian

  26. Brad

  27. Ian

  28. Brad

  29. Ian

  30. Brad

  31. Ian

  32. Ian

  33. Ian

  34. Brad

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes

  Omega Teacher’s Baby

  Two Alphas, One Omega

  About the Author

  Copyright Anna Wineheart 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This novel contains graphic sexual content between two men. Intended for mature readers only.

  Warnings: self-harm, past child abuse, child illness, self-esteem issues, discussions of death

  To those who don’t feel deserving, this book is for you.

  You are worthy.

  .

  Follow Anna Wineheart on social media:

  Goodreads | Facebook Reader Group (Anna’s Wine Shack)

  Sign up for Anna’s newsletter here:

  http://eepurl.com/cske55

  1

  Ian

  Ian climbed the stairs, counting out the steps with Gwen as she giggled. “Nine, ten, eleven,” they said together. Ian added, “Ready for the last step?”

  Her little face flushed with exertion, six-year-old Gwen nodded. “Yes!”

  As one, they took the final step onto the stairwell landing. Gwen huffing. Ian crouched before her to make sure she was all right. “Does anything hurt?”

  “Uh-uh.” Gwen shook her head, brushing her hair away from her face. “’M all right.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Ian said, a weight easing off his chest. I’d hoped that wasn’t too much for you.

  She was starting to look better these past few weeks. The cardiologist had said Gwen would be fine as long as she refrained from strenuous activity, and she was.

  It made Ian’s heart hurt, watching his daughter struggle. Knowing that whatever he did, he couldn’t solve the root of her problems.

  Gwen’s heart defect repair surgery had left her with a weak heart. Over time, she’d need another surgery to fix that.

  That wasn’t all, though. The frequent hospital visits had been taking a toll on Ian’s bank account. Whether they could make rent for next month… he wasn’t sure.

  He brushed away the strands of hair that Gwen missed, then reached for the stairwell door. “Now, classes are still going on—I’ll be away for a couple hours, and then I’ll come pick you up from the lab, okay?”

  Gwen frowned. “But isn’t Christmas on Monday? How come there’s still classes?”

  Ian paused. “College breaks are different everywhere—in Meadowfall, they start tomorrow.”

  It sucked, too, because he could already feel his heat descend. Ian’s heat thrummed in his bones, made him subconsciously sniff for someone to bed. In ten minutes, he’d be in a classroom full of young, virile alphas, and Ian would hate everything about being an omega.

  He shouldn’t want someone pinning him down—he was forty-seven, and a single dad. There weren’t many people out there looking for someone like him.

  Gods knew Ian wasn’t someone desirable, with the way he was in debt, the way he still hadn’t sorted out his life. There were neat, silvery scars lined up along his hips, around his upper arms. A couple of fresh scabs from a few days ago—he hadn’t been able to resist.

  You would think, with the way the labor ward staff had looked at you, that you could stop hurting yourself.

  Ian had tried. It hadn’t worked.

  “C’mon, let’s get going,” Ian said. “June’s not teaching today, so I’m in charge.”

  “Can I come to class?” Gwen beamed, and Ian was so tempted to say yes.

  But he didn’t think Gwen would understand a word of Large-scale Nanoparticle Production. Didn’t want her to sit in confusion for a whole two hours, Ian unable to explain every single concept to her while he saw to the rest of the class.

  “Maybe another time,” Ian said. “When I find a really exciting lesson.”

  Gwen perked up, her eyes sparkling. Ian melted.

  He was so fortunate, having someone like her around. Having Gwen be his daughter.

  For the past six years, Gwen had been everything to Ian. She’d been a tiny infant in his arms, a baby he never thought he’d conceive. She’d given him her first smile, she’d said Daddy, and she’d banished the loneliness in his life.

  At least, she’d banished the loneliness he’d surrounded himself with. No one needed to know who her other dad was.

  The only person who knew… was Ian’s department head, and with Harold the secret stayed.

  Seven years ago, Ian had spent his heat with the one person he shouldn’t—his student.

  In the months prior, Brad Saxon had been hitting on him. He’d been smiling at Ian, leaving little notes on his assignments, words like Never seen anyone like you and You don’t know how good you look. He’d written I’m free this Saturday evening, and Ian had been tempted.

  Terrible enough that Brad had been the best-looking alpha in his classes, all tanned skin and intent eyes, his shoulders broad, his pecs stretching his shirt.

  Three weeks from Brad’s graduation, Ian had gone into heat. Brad had followed Ian to his office. He’d kissed Ian, and Ian had wanted him too much to say no.

  They’d fucked, they’d knotted, and when Ian had stepped out of his office smelling like walnut and sex, Brad’s father—the department head—had been standing outside.

  Between losing his job and cutting off all ties with Brad, Ian had chosen the latter. No point tying down an alpha so young, anyway. Brad hadn’t even graduated at that point.

  “Daddy?” Gwen blinked owlishly at him.

  Ian shook himself out of his thoughts. For a split second, he saw Brad’s honey-brown eyes looking right at him.

  His heart lurched. Then he blinked and took in the rest of Gwen’s face—blond hair like his own, stubby nose, pale skin. With the exception of her eyes, Gwen looked every bit like Ian. Sometimes, Ian wished she looked more like her other dad, so he could remember the alpha who had once taken a chance with him.

  He breathed out. Straightened, and took Gwen’s hand in his own. “Let’s get going. I’m going to be late for class. June said she’s found a new coloring book for you. And three stickers if you’re good!”

  Gwen’s eyes grew round. “Are they shiny stickers?”

  “Sure are!”

  Gwen yelped excitedly. Ian hushed her, holding a finger to his lips. Gwen mimicked him.

  Together, they crept through the empty college corridors, Gwen staring at the red and go
ld tinsel wrapped around the noticeboards, and the occasional holly leaf decorations on the doors. Ian had the same decorations in their apartment, but they weren’t quite as shiny, or new.

  They turned down a few hallways, pausing at Ian’s lab. Ian opened the door slowly, just in case there was someone behind it.

  A couple of undergrads tapped away on the computers. June was pulling off her safety glasses and lab coat. Ian waved. “Hey, June.”

  June nodded. “Hey, Ian. And Gwen!”

  Gwen beamed, waving.

  “I was starting to wonder if you’d be late,” June said dryly, glancing at the wall clock. “Four minutes to class, Professor.”

  If she weren’t his assistant professor, Ian would’ve commented on her snark. Instead, he winced—she was right. “There was a jam around the hospital.”

  June started to speak, then shut her mouth, looking sympathetically at Gwen. She had some idea of Gwen’s medical issues, but not all; Ian hadn’t wanted more people knowing he couldn’t provide the best for his daughter.

  His scabs itched.

  “Well, here’s the graded assignments,” June said. “Classes are on schedule, but the evening crowd’s a little quiet.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  June’s wedding band gleamed when Ian took the sheath of papers. He tried not to look at it, but there was something about the ring—it caught his eye, made him wonder what it’d be like, if there was an alpha who wanted him that fervently.

  You won’t amount to much, Ian’s mother had said a long time ago. Best get to studying—at least you’ll find a job that way.

  Ian swallowed his sigh, and tucked the assignments under his arm. It still made him hold his breath, every time he glimpsed June’s ring. It seemed like such a great joy to be married.

  When Gwen was settled in her chair, Ian gave her a quick hug and kiss. He really was late. “I’ll be back soon, hon. Don’t run around okay? Plenty of dangerous chemicals here.”

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “I know, Daddy.”

  He laughed and ruffled her hair, then hurried to the door. The air in the hallway smelled like alphas—teak, birch, walnut.

  It reminded him of Brad Saxon. Ian glanced at his stack of assignments—twenty or so students in this Master’s class. Amidst the woodsy scent of alphas, the grassy scent of betas, and the floral scent of omegas, something in the papers smelled like walnut. Like Brad.

  It wasn’t as though Brad would be back in the college—he had graduated. Except Ian’s heat made him hungry, curious.

  It made him hope that, somewhere amongst the assignments, there would be Brad’s name.

  He couldn’t help remembering that one afternoon, when Brad had bent him over his desk, his hands hot on Ian’s skin, his lips damp. Brad had pressed sucking kisses down Ian’s neck, stripped Ian of his pants, and slid inside.

  Gods, he’d felt like sin against Ian. Ian’s hole tightened.

  On a whim, he stopped three steps from the classroom door. Riffled through the assignments, holding his breath.

  What did Brad look like now? Was he doing well? Did he look as good as he did seven years ago?

  The walnut scent was someone else’s. It had to be.

  Then Ian glimpsed it, a dark, inky scrawl, more familiar than a student’s had any right to be.

  Brad Saxon.

  Ian’s heart stopped. He stared at the assignment, blinking hard. Brad’s name didn’t go away.

  It couldn’t be happening. How had he not known that Brad had been in his Master’s class? For three entire months? Granted, the classes always clashed with Gwen’s hospital visits, or her childcare center closing hours, or…

  I should’ve looked at the roster first.

  Ian wanted to hit himself. Wanted to grab his scalpel, except it wasn’t with him.

  Ian wasn’t in any state to face Brad. He was in heat. He didn’t look a hundred percent presentable.

  Hell, Brad was Gwen’s other dad.

  On a summer afternoon a long time ago, Brad had held Ian close, given him a toe-curling grin, and fucked him slow and deep.

  Ian’s heat flared inside him, throbbing like a second pulse. He bit down a groan. Just what I needed. In his hurry to get from the hospital to Meadowfall College, Ian had completely forgotten about masking his heat scent—not that it had been as strong until now, when he’d found out Brad was in his class.

  And now all his students would know he was in heat.

  Ian wanted to curl into a ball and burrow into the ground. He couldn’t tell Brad about Gwen—this wasn’t the time. Nothing screamed manipulative omega more than going up to an alpha and saying, Hey, you fathered my child seven years ago.

  If Brad knew and Harold found out… Ian would lose his job.

  Besides, Brad had probably found another omega by now. He’d probably found someone closer to his own age, someone who had the same interests he did. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember Ian.

  Feeling a little braver, Ian paused with his hand on the door handle. Thought about retreating to the lab, and begging June to take over the class.

  But he was a professor, and he was a dad. If he wanted to be the strong, supportive parental figure Gwen needed, then Ian had to suck it up, and step into the classroom.

  Ian closed his eyes. Breathed in deep, and opened the door.

  It felt like he was one step away from eternal shame.

  2

  Brad

  You’re taking a Master’s in Chemistry? Why was I not informed?

  Brad deleted the text. Not your business, Dad.

  He breathed out, setting his phone down. Ignored the rest of the students in class, some of whom were murmuring, some working last-minute on their assignments. The professor was late.

  Brad flipped listlessly through his textbook. Didn’t absorb anything, just saw lines and lines of black text on white. It had been three months since semester began, and despite Ian McMillan’s name printed all over the course schedules, he hadn’t conducted a single class. Instead, it had been the assistant professor, June Kindling, showing up.

  In a couple weeks, maybe I won’t be working on a Master’s anymore, anyway.

  Brad leaned back in his chair, glancing at the empty whiteboard. What he was doing with his life, coming to class? He could’ve been back home, sleeping off the exhaustion from a twenty-four-hour shift at the station.

  Instead, he’d been making his way to the college twice a week, hoping to catch Ian McMillan around.

  Kind of a stupid idea, taking up a course so he could see his professor again. And yet here Brad was, the entire textbook memorized in case he had the chance to impress McMillan. Someone he hadn’t seen since seven years ago.

  Which idiot does this? Aside from me?

  A few weeks back, Brad had given up all pretense that he’d been attending these classes for self-improvement.

  He’d gone up to June Kindling and said, I thought Ian McMillan was supposed to teach this class.

  Kindling had given him an odd look, and answered, He’s busy.

  Brad had shut up after that. No point protesting, anyway.

  With the way he’d graduated with a Chemistry degree, he’d figured he might as well put it to some use. His job at the station didn’t really need it; Brad wanted to give his brain a workout, see if he couldn’t get a Master’s just because he could.

  He had the background knowledge. He was paying for tuition with his own wages.

  It wasn’t just that, though. Some months back, there had been a huge blaze in town, a three-story apartment building that had burned in the summer heat.

  Brad had been on driving duty that day. There had been a jam on the road, and he’d taken what he’d thought was a shortcut. He’d ended up getting the fire truck stuck behind yet more traffic, and the embarrassment had burned.

  But that hadn’t been all—by the time they’d arrived at the scene, half the apartments in the building had been razed. They’d hauled out the few survivals they could.
<
br />   When the flames had been doused, Brad had gone into the building and found the charred remains, small bones that should never have been left to burn. Outside the building, the parents had been distraught. A mother had grabbed Brad and screamed, Why couldn’t you save my daughter?

  Brad hadn’t an answer for her. The guilt sat on his shoulders, so heavy it felt as though it would crush his heart.

  Despite the therapy, despite the subsequent people he’d saved, Brad couldn’t help the sense that he was drifting. He needed to prove to himself he could do something right. Needed to know he wouldn’t fuck up again.

  What was the use of being a firefighter if people died because of you?

  So here he was, taking up a chemistry class because he’d gotten tired of dating, of omegas his age who didn’t understand the horror of what he’d done.

  Twenty-nine wasn’t young anymore, but sometimes, Brad still felt as though he didn’t know enough, didn’t have enough.

  Breath in, Brad told himself. Make your life count.

  He sighed, and the beta student next to him looked over. Brad stared at his textbook, regretting even showing up for class. Wasn’t any point staying, anyway. Maybe he should leave.

  Except the possibility that Ian McMillan might appear, no matter how slim it was… It kept Brad in his seat.

  If he really thought about it, he could still remember the way McMillan had smiled, that first day of class seven years ago. McMillan’s shirt had been wrinkled, his gaze skittering away when Brad had met his eyes.