Damon
The night hadn’t been without its hang-ups. Robbie dominated the conversation. He got a kick out of having his dentist right here having dinner with us.
“I’ve got some pumpkin cinnamon rolls in the oven. Patrick, did you want coffee?”
That was my not-so-subtle way of telling him that I wanted him to stay, way past dessert. Not spend the night, but be here with me.
What he’d said at the ballpark kept rolling through my head. Even though I believed him, a little part of me now wondered if he were too good to be true.
“I’d love coffee. I’m exhausted.”
I stopped on my way to the kitchen and glanced at the clock. It was already past nine, and Robbie’s yawns had become louder and louder. “You don’t have to. Don’t let me keep you. I know you must be tired.”
He got up from the table and pressed his hand to my back, coaxing me toward the kitchen. “You are second-guessing again. I actually want you to keep me. I want to talk to you tonight. I’d love coffee.” I hadn’t looked at him while he spoke, still trying to convince myself that he was real. “And I want one of your buns.”
I choked on air. “My what?”
“The cinnamon buns? Isn’t that what you came in here to get?” Then this man who’d ruined me and then pieced me back together winked.
“Yes. And...you know what? Can you get them out of the oven while I put Robbie to bed?”
He chuckled and touched my bottom lip with his thumb. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll be back soon.” I bounded from the kitchen, flutters in my belly and a broad smile on my face. “Bedtime, Robbie,” I announced, going into the dining room.
Poor kid. In the very short time we were in the kitchen, he’d fallen asleep at the table. “Here we go.” I picked him up and brought him to his bedroom. After laying him on the bed, I took off his shoes and covered him up. He hated to be tucked in, especially his feet, so I made sure to leave those unwrapped.
I forced myself to walk slowly back to the kitchen, determined not to seem overly eager, even though I so was. “Everything okay in…” I would’ve finished the question, but my surprise interrupted my thoughts. The cinnamon rolls were out of the oven and placed in a cute basket. Two cups of coffee were poured and surrounded by my sugar bowl, creamer, spoons, and cloth napkins, all on a tray.
“I think I’ve got it. I thought maybe we could watch a movie or just talk?” He shrugged like he hadn’t yet realized he was the most adorable and romantic guy on the planet.
“Either would be great. Oh, shoot, I’ve got a dentist in the house, and I just put Robbie to bed without brushing his teeth.”
“Hey,” he said, taking my hand. “It takes twenty-four hours for food to harden into plaque. Just make sure he brushes them in the morning and whatever you do, don’t tell him I told you that.” He picked up the tray and we went into the living room.
“There’s a good movie on,” I said, all of the sudden nervous about our time together.
“Maybe later. I changed my mind. I’d rather just talk, if that’s okay with you.”
He sat on my couch, and I took a minute to light a few caramel apple candles around the room, mostly for ambience. But when I got close to Patrick to sit down, I gasped. He was in the perfect light. He sat in the corner of my cream-colored couch, looking at the book selection behind him on the sofa table and holding a steaming cup of coffee.
“You’re going to think I’m nuts, but can I take some pictures of you?”
He turned his head and nodded. “I’ve never really had my picture taken before—except the professional ones for the office and social media.”
I’d already checked those out. The comments from both women and men were hilarious.
“Not even as a kid?”
He shook his head. “My parents weren’t really picture takers. Not sure why.”
“Two seconds.” I raced into my office and grabbed my camera and a close-up lens. When I came back, he hadn’t moved. “Stay there, okay?”
He smirked, but did as I said. The candles I’d lit made a soft glowy halo around his head. His expression while he looked at my books was something like peaceful joy, and I couldn’t help but take over twenty shots.
“What about you?” he asked, putting his cup down.
“What about me?”
“I think I need a picture of us. Come here.”
I put my camera down and sat next to him but not nearly close enough.
“Are you afraid of me now?” he whispered in my ear, causing my whole body to shudder.
“No, of course not.”
“Then get in my lap, omega. I need a shot of the both of us, for my phone.”
My heart drummed, and I thought sure he could hear it. “Okay.” I scooted closer but hesitated when it came to actually plopping my ass on his legs. Maybe it was nerves.
“Not good enough,” he groaned, and then grasped me around the waist to sit on his lap. He rested his chin on my shoulder and raised his phone then set it to selfie mode. I’d never been a fan of pictures of myself—or selfies in general—but this was the sweetest thing I’d ever experienced. He took several shots and then began to set them as his wallpaper and his lock screen. Everyone would see that I was his.
I was his, wasn’t I? He’d said he was falling in love with me, and he’d called me omega.
Fuck, I was so bad at this.
“Can you text that to me?” I worked up the courage to say.
“I already did.”
I moved to get down, not wanting to be pushy despite how much I liked my perch.
“Wait, where are you going?” His arms wrapped around my waist again, and he pulled me tight against his chest. I turned, and his lips were so close to mine that I could see the tiny imperfections in them, the small dip on his top lip. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips.
Patrick wasn’t the only one falling in love.
Chapter Eleven
Patrick
Damon felt so perfect on my lap, as if he’d always belonged there, and I settled back on his sofa, closing my eyes, happier than I’d been since I could remember. He smelled like fall to me, outdoorsy, fresh, and the addition of butter and sugar and cinnamon, a trace of nutmeg and allspice from his baking made him irresistible to this autumn-loving alpha. I buried my nose in his neck and breathed it in.
“Did you want to watch that movie?” he asked, and I opened my eyes.
“Sure.” If he did.
Damon clicked on the TV and I reached up and turned off the lamp beside the sofa. We’d left the kitchen area dark when we’d carried the tray into the living room, so the flickering screen provided the only illumination, and I felt like a teenager ready to make out while his date’s parents snoozed in the other room.
In this case, the chaperone was a little guy who’d found at least a temporary haven with my omega. That’s right, my omega. We had a lot of getting to know each other left to do, but the connection was there just waiting for us to step into it.
I wondered if there was any chance Robbie could stay? He needed that home and, now that I knew about Damon’s accident, adoption was a perfect alternative for us. My parents would fuss, convinced that the scion of the family needed to provide a Scion, Jr., but they’d have to get over it. Mom would fall in love with Robbie instantly, and Dad, well we’d figure that out when the time came. My heart sank when I climbed out of the fairy-tale life I’d built for the three of us. Robbie already had a dad, one who would be coming for him, one who hopefully would turn his life around for his son’s sake.
We could explore other options, other kids who needed a home—but Robbie was special. He was such a perfect fit for us. A really great kid.
But I was also jumping too far into the future. If all we had was each other, it was more than I’d ever dreamed of. I knew there was supposed to be a mate, a twin soul for each alpha, but until I laid eyes on Damon that day, shooting pics of those kids in the leaves
, I’d had no idea what connecting with that omega felt like.
Damn the fates that made him unable to have children, but there’d never be another omega for me. I wanted him and only him.
The movie rolled past, some rom com with lots of pretty scenery and the inevitable misunderstandings between an impossibly sophisticated and handsome alpha and his cute but somewhat lost omega. Damon laughed from time to time, casting the occasional glance in my direction to see if I also thought it funny, and I chuckled obediently, but what held my attention was my lapful of an omega. I fed him bits of cinnamon roll while nibbling on it myself. He had a real talent for baking, my omega.
With a glance toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms where Robbie snoozed away, I smeared a little of the sweet frosting on Damon’s lips. His quick intake of breath sent my almost-hard cock to full alert, and my pulse racing. He tipped his head back, an invitation I had no desire to refuse, and I bent to lick his lips clean before closing in for a deeper kiss. The icing was good—but my omega was sweeter. Some was the cinnamon, but the rest was all him.
I slid my hand under his shirt to rest on the warm skin at the small of his back. I wanted to take all his clothes off and see every inch of that skin, this wasn’t the time. Not with Robbie there. If somehow the fates let us make a family with him, someday...but the first time we were together, I didn’t want to be worried about waking a child.
Because I sure hoped we’d be noisy.
But for now, I held my omega to me and enjoyed the kissing. Because that alone was making my head spin and my heart pound. His lips were soft, yet firm. His tongue tangled with mine; his arms slipped around my neck and fingers twined in my hair.
Damon knelt on my lap, bringing our kiss a new angle, and I slipped down to lie on my back on the sofa, his long, lean body stretched out over mine. Keep it together, alpha...we will have our time. I would make sure of it. I was no raw teen to let the dick pressing into mine, through both of our clothing, drive me past what was safe and appropriate.
It really was like being a teenager. What could we get away with in case a certain someone appeared in the doorway. Damon broke our kiss, pressing his palms on my chest and panting. “I’d take you to the bedroom, but it’s right next door to Robbie’s and…”
“No, we can’t do that,” I murmured, clasping the back of his head and bringing his mouth to mine again. If all I could do was kiss this man, it was still better than anything I could imagine doing with anyone else. Still, my traitorous hands crept down to cup his ass, squeezing the rounded cheeks and imagining what I’d do once I got his pants off. Would I find him as slick as the hard dick straining his zipper seemed to indicate? I rubbed and massaged, dug my fingers into the muscles—
“Wait.” His words stilled my hands and I jerked them away.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I know this isn’t the appropriate—”
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips then pushed back to smile at me. “Watch this.” Unfolding a comforter over the back of the old sofa, he pulled it over us. “I don’t think we should do anything too crazy, but I think a little groping under the blanket here is fine.”
“Like back in high school…”
“Mmm, and I think the sneaky element adds something.”
I think it does at that.” I kissed him again while unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper. “And we should probably be quiet,” I whispered against his lips, more turned on than I could ever remember being.
“So quiet,” he moaned, and I stifled a smile while using my mouth to eliminate any more conversation. As I drew his long, rather impressive erection from his pants, he freed mine and I closed my fist around both, squeezing and stroking, loving the contact. He was not quite as long as me, but wider, with a smooth, mushroom-shaped head. The blanket prevented my seeing it, but I would soon. Maybe next weekend we could spend the later part of a date at my apartment, getting to know one another better.
I shoved his pants down enough to get my other hand inside the back and onto that tempting ass. Gliding a finger between his cheeks, I found the slick I’d hoped for and my balls tightened. Then Damon closed his fist around mine, around both of our cocks, slowing my movements some, showing me what he liked. Easing free, I let him take over, while I focused on the hand I had between his butt cheeks, gliding back and forth, toying with the ring of muscles I would breach but not tonight. At least not with my cock.
But a finger...yes.
He groaned, pushing back against the intrusion as I doubled my assault, matching the rhythm of his fist, up down, in out, we panted and shivered and shuddered and then spurted. Both of us at the same time, our cum pumping down to wet my sweater and soak through to my stomach. I didn’t care, rather, I loved it, letting my fingers slip free as the last of our mingled fluids jetted from our dicks.
He fell on top of me, and we kissed again. At some point, we’d stopped, probably from lack of air, but we were doing it again, now, and it was that much sweeter for what we’d just shared. We’d need to clean up, but I didn’t have the strength to stand yet, and so once we’d tucked ourselves back into our clothes, he curled on my chest and fell asleep.
If this was what having an omega was like...sign me up.
Chapter Twelve
Damon
The next couple of days were a blur. We spent the entire day together, Sunday, with Robbie in tow, going to the funky donut shop that had pumpkin-spiced donuts along with the Froot Loops and hot Cheeto ones Robbie seemed to like. I was convinced he liked them for the shock value more than the taste, but once he’d finished three, I thought otherwise.
We visited the aquarium, which Robbie didn’t like at all. He didn’t like the zoo, either. Something about taking wild creatures and sticking them in glass cages didn’t sit right with him. Then again, he scarfed down steak like it was his last meal—go figure.
The week began, and I tried to text Patrick once in a while, but when I was taking pictures and working on my freelance work, he was free and when I took a break, he had patients. I wished more than anything, he was here in my home. That way, I could expect him to come home at night at least.
Missing him was the pits.
The phone rang, and I sprang from my office to answer it. I had a landline for my office and a separate one for the house, and this ring was the house.
“Hello?” I said a little too exuberant, thinking it was Patrick.
“This is Scott—Scott Smith. Can I talk to my son?” His voice was gruff but civil. Still, I wished I’d had some notice. And he wasn’t supposed to contact me directly. He was to go through the social worker.
“He’s at school. It’s noon.” I tried not to sound like an asshole, but the truth was the truth.
“Oh yeah, school. When does he get home?”
I cleared my throat, simply for the pause. “Scott, it’s best if you contact the social worker. I’m not even sure how you got this number. Missy can tell you how to get in touch with Robbie.”
“Just...” he began, and I was sure a rant was coming, but then he breathed in and out. I heard the sound. “Fine. I’ll call her.”
I hung up the phone and tried like hell to calm down. His father had no right to see him while he was in the system unless the social worker said so, and then on my and her terms.
I had to protect Robbie at all costs. I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out the door wearing my rattiest T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. I threw a zip-up fleece on top since it was getting colder. The school wouldn’t question me taking him out a little early for an appointment.
On the way, I called Missy. She seemed just as concerned as I was about Scott calling out of the blue, and put me on hold while I drove.
“Damon? It looks like they let him out on parole. They didn’t inform me. I’m so sorry. How the hell he got your number is a mystery.”
“I’m going to the school to pick him up. I’m not taking a chance of Scott showing up at his school or at his bus stop. If he kn
ows my phone number, he knows my address and which school Robbie goes to. I know I’m not supposed to take him from school unless there’s an appointment, but—”
“No,” she said, interrupting me. “You’re doing the right thing. I’ll call you with updates as I receive them. In the meantime, just keep a watchful eye. But I know you always do.”
I hung up and cursed the system.
In the school, I tried like hell not to look like I was in a rush, but I was. Making plans in my head, I decided we would go home and bake cookies and I’d let him watch a movie, something semi-educational. He was supposed to go over to his friend’s house for a sleepover, so that would keep him out of range and safe for the night.
“What’s up, dude?” He came into the office.
“Appointment.”
He snarled, “Not another one.”
“Yep. Let’s roll.”
He chuckled and gave me his backpack. “You’re being weird again.”
“I’m weird. Get over it.”
The rest of the afternoon, he seemed unfazed by me making brownies and shutting the curtains in the living room while he watched movies. He questioned my appointment excuse, but I responded by saying he had an appointment to have fun with me. It seemed to do the trick.
I roamed the front and back of the house while he chilled, checking outside, peeking behind the curtains, looking for suspicious people and cars, feeling like a paranoid kook.
“What time do I go to Brenner’s?” he asked.
“In an hour. You have your stuff packed?”
“No,” he said, looking down.
“Dude, I sent you to pack stuff last night. What happened?”
He shrugged. It didn’t matter. What mattered right then was getting him to Brenner’s and out of this house, where no one could find him.
“Let’s go.” We took the stairs two at a time and packed him up for a night out. He insisted on bringing my old sleeping bag and a pair of my binoculars. I didn’t ask what for. Something told me I didn’t want to know.
Roseville Romance Page 5
