A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  I closed my fist around his cock and brought it to my lips, savoring his writhing under me and the pinches of pain from his fingers tangled in my hair. “This is the blow job to do the job, omega.” I opened my mouth wide and took him into my throat, his groan of surprised laughter at my cheesy joke changing to one of deep passion. I wanted it to be the best he’d ever had, and while I bobbed my head up and down, taking him a little deeper each time, I cupped his ball in my palm, rolling them gently and stroking them with my thumb.

  Up, down, roll, repeat, and faster. His breathing grew harsh, his grip on me tearing out a few hairs, but I didn’t care. His hips bucked, and then he was pouring down my throat. Creamy, salty goodness I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed because we’d been so caught up in everything but the physical loving of one another.

  That would never happen again I vowed as I sat up and wiped the back of my hand over my mouth.

  He lay back, panting, and under him a puddle grew.

  “Omega? I think—”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You did your best. We’re just going to have to wait it out.”

  “Omega?”

  “It’s not like you not to swallow…”

  I was staring at him, so I saw the realization dawn and the smile light up his face.

  “If you’ll get my bag, I think we might need to think about going to the hospital?”

  “Bag’s in the car, omega.” I covered his belly and face with kisses before helping him adjust his clothes and stand.

  “You think of everything, alpha.” He leaned on me for a moment, breathing heavily, then straightened. “But I think we’re in a hurry.”

  I beat the record for our trial run to the hospital by nearly three minutes.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ronnie

  “I left a message for them. I wish they would learn how to use their cell phones,” I grumbled in exacerbation. They might be grandparents, but they were hardly ancient. I needed to know they were fine with keeping the girls until this baby got evicted. Not that I feared they’d say no, but I needed my ducks in a row.

  When it clicked that the moisture I felt wasn’t my cum, my embarrassment went immediately into get-it-done mode. And Zave was right there with me, getting me to the hospital in record time. At triage, I quickly learned that Dr. Tucker was not on until seven that night. I was not impressed.

  “I need to keep this baby in here,” I growled, grabbing Zave’s shirt as the nurse left to get me a new gown, the one they had there in the intake room missing a string; it was one thing to have your ass hanging out, quite another to have the entire thing falling from your body. Why they had me change in the room reserved for C-section prep was beyond me anyways. I was having a natural birth after C-section—done.

  “You told me to get it out.” Poor Zave looked so clueless.

  “Dr. Tucker.”

  Realization crossed his face, and he looked up behind me. “The clock says it is only four hours until her shift. We can totally do this.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I moved, being a grumpy-ass loser-face to him.

  “We?” I scowled. We weren’t getting the baby out. I was. He might have put it in there, but this was all me now.

  “You,” he immediately corrected. “You can totally do this.”

  Even as the scene played out before me, I saw the crazy I was acting. These darn hormones had it in for me.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled just as the door opened to reveal a doctor I didn’t recognize standing there.

  “I’m your anesthesiologist, Marcus Hanson. I just came by to go over everything and get some signatures, and then we can get this epidural in.”

  “I’m not planning on an epidural, and even if I were, it is still too soon. I can still talk through my contractions.” This was not my first time at the rodeo, and I doubted I’d even need one. It was nice to have it there if I did, but Maggie came along fine without, and I’d planned on trying to do it that way again.

  “You’re Ronald Jones, right?” The doctor looked puzzled and flipped through the pages on his clipboards.

  “I am.”

  “You can’t get a C-section without anesthesia. I’m not sure who—”

  I cut his ass off right then and there. “I am not getting a C-section.”

  The doctor looked at Zave.

  “He’s not.” Of course, Dr. Tucker had a plan in place if it became necessary, but neither of us mentioned that. Mae’s delivery by C-section had everything to do with her and nothing to do with a complicated delivery for any other reason.

  “It says here you are. Your last baby was a C-section.”

  I got off the bed and went to the chair. “We are leaving.”

  Zave, bless his soul, immediately went into action, helping me get my clothing as the doctor stood there in shock.

  “You can’t have this baby at home,” the doctor finally stammered as he typed away on his phone.

  “No, but I can leave and come back when Dr. Tucker comes in,” I all but shouted as the door swung open, me now robeless with Zave holding my underwear for me to step into. Brilliant.

  “Is there a problem in here?” A doctor I recognized from Dr. Tucker’s practice but had not formally met stood in the doorway, his posture not shouting that he was there to block my exit, but it felt that way nonetheless.

  Hanson the asshat, as I now called him in my head, went into the story as I managed to get my underwear on just as my first painful contraction hit. Fucking bad timing. I held on to Zave’s shoulders for support, both literal and figurative.

  “You can go,” the new guy said, and relief filled me.

  “Thank you.” I grabbed the shirt off the shelf and started to put it on, wanting to feel a little less naked.

  “Not you, omega.” Zave pointed to the door to see a pissed-off anesthesiologist stomping away.

  “Sorry about that. Can we chat before you decide if you want to leave or not?” The doctor moved from the door and sat on the rolly stool, so I opted to give him the benefit of the doubt and perched on the edge of the bed.

  “Dr. Tucker told us he could try for a natural birth given the circumstances of his last C-section and the other factors.” Zave sounded far cooler than I felt. I’d have been barking at the doctor, that was for sure.

  “I see that in your file.” He nodded as he scrolled on his iPad. “Says here you are an ideal candidate.”

  “So you are not behind the C-section bullshit.” I was calmer but far from calm, especially given that my contractions were getting exponentially stronger in a very short period of time. I went from being able to talk through one when the anesthesiologist came in to needing to hold in a cry of pain in a very short period of time.

  “I am not. That was a triage mistake. What would make you feel better and willing to stay? I’m Dr. Lawson, by the way.” And right then and there my freak-out began to recede.

  “I’d like to be in a labor and delivery room and not a triage wait for your C-section room.” That would go a long way.”

  “And I’d like to know that if my husband opts to have an epidural, that he has someone else,” Zave added.

  Done and done.

  And within a half an hour, I was settling into a very nice delivery room complete with a tub to help me labor and some fancy schmancy sound system.

  “This place is as nice as the Plaza,” Zave teased when we were finally left alone.

  “You’ve been to the Plaza?” I loved reading Eloise to Maggie at Christmastime and wondered how much of the book resembled the modern-day facilities.

  “No, but Maggie managed to get me to promise to bring her there one day for Christmas, so I looked it up.” She had him just as wrapped as she had me.

  “She’s been trying to get me to agree to that for two years now. Maybe next year when I have time built back up.”

  “Sounds perfect.” He said something else, but I didn’t hear it as another contraction roared through me.

  “Is she
going to be here soon?” I whined, wondering if I could hold it in.

  “Soon enough, I’m sure.” He kissed my cheek. “I can run you a tub.”

  And run me a tub he did. I’d never considered a water birth, but laboring in the water made things a ton easier. I managed to get through my entire birth process without any epidural, as I had wanted, and my worries about Dr. Tucker being on time turned to worry about her getting off-duty before the baby came. Our little girl managed to arrive in the world with an hour to spare before her twelve-hour shift ended.

  “She is perfect.” I stared at her little face in awe. They all had been, all three of my girls, even if Mae hadn’t been as healthy as I’d wanted her to be. Each and every one of them were perfect, though. Perfect for our family. And so beyond loved.

  “Have you thought of a name?” We’d played the name game back and forth, and I finally gave up stating that we’d know it when we met her.

  “I would be honored, omega mine, if we could name her Lauren,” Zave spoke, his emotions choking him up. “If it is too hard, I understand, but I would love to honor her.”

  Tears of joy and memories and, for all I knew, hormones fell down my face as I spoke to my little babe, using her name for the very first time. “Hello, sweet baby Lauren. We are so excited to meet you.”

  Epilogue

  Zave

  As the taxi pulled up in front of the Plaza Hotel, three little girls bounced up and down like crazy, shrieking. I tried to calm them down just a little, but Ronnie’s beaming face looked every bit as excited. Eloise at Christmas.

  We’d actually tried to come last year, but it had been booked so far in advance…so here we finally were. We were booked for, among other events, a tea party/fashion show, planned to shop in the Eloise themed store, were going to go skating at Rockefeller Center, and, best of all, were staying in the Eloise suite.

  Maggie, Mae, and Lauren loved the stories of the little girl who lived in the Plaza and, especially since we told them about their upcoming trip, had insisted on hearing the stories every night before bed. I only hoped it lived up to the hype.

  But as we exited the elevator and the liveried bellhop led us down the hall to our accommodations and opened the door, my level of excitement shot through the roof. It was just like the online picture—if anything, a bit nicer—all the black and pink and her name in glowing letters on the wall. Even if I hadn’t been so impressed, the trio of shrieking girls would have made this one of the best days of my life.

  Mae and Lauren scrambled up on the bed while Maggie opened the dresser drawers and the closet, exclaiming over whatever she found in there.

  I started to tell the girls not to jump, but the bellhop shook his head and winked. “The hotel understands the enthusiasm of the young ladies who stay here, sir. The bed is quite sturdy.” He accepted the tip I handed him and left, closing the door softly behind him. I had a feeling it would be the only soft sound in this room for the duration. Our “young ladies” were wild-eyed with glee as they draped strand after strand of beads they’d dug out of somewhere around their necks and tried to walk in the fancy shoes from the closet.

  I tucked my omega under my arm as we stood near the doorway, watching our family be happy. My heart swelled so big I thought for sure it would burst out of my chest. “You were right when you said this was a good idea, Ronnie.” More than right. Genius.

  He rubbed his cheek against my arm. “It took us a while to get here.”

  More than a while. We’d met over a decade before, flirted, had great conversations then went our separate ways. I wandered through a career minefield, all alone. He’d met Lauren and had Maggie and Mae. Lost Lauren and a big piece of his heart. Nearly lost Mae—which might have been the end of him. Then we reconnected. Got married. Had little Lauren...and while every day was not sunshine and roses, since we were a family with all that entailed, we had far more good times than bad. I’d never imagined loving anyone the way I did Ronnie and our girls.

  “Yes,” I told him, still watching the frolicking. “It took us a while, but it was worth every minute.”

  Manny’s Mannies: Where parents finds more than just childcare—they find everything.

  Omega Graysen loves his job teaching art in a local public school. He gets to be creative all day and still has the summer to spend with his favorite person—Seth, his two-year-old nephew who he became guardian of after his omega brother’s imprisonment. Unfortunately, teaching barely pays the bills, and when his small home needs a new roof, he has no choice but to fill his summer with a seasonal job, but those are rare. Thank goodness for Manny’s Mannies.

  Widowed alpha Kylos is the perfect parent raising an equally perfect son. How could they not be? Kylos wrote the book on it, a book that has been on the bestseller list for almost a year and still soaring. When his publicist suggests he be the honored guest on the Cruising Your Way to Better Parenting cruise, Kylos’ original answer is no. After all, his son, Eric, has cello lessons, engineering camp, test prep classes, and a thousand other things to do that summer, and giving up two weeks would only hinder his chances of completing them all in a timely fashion and could ultimately harm his chances of getting into a prestigious high school and eventually an Ivy League university.

  Kylos’ publicist has other ideas, and next thing he knows, Kylos is hiring a temporary manny to attend the cruise with them. As long as the manny is willing to follow his schedule and knows something about math, all should be fine—or so he tells himself. Little does he know that Grayson not only isn’t a schedule follower, he also isn’t alone.

  The Alpha’s Mentor Manny

  By

  Lorelei M. Hart

  Prologue

  Us spending the night—again.

  “Oh my, Seth, it looks like it is raining in the house again.” I held on to my nephew as I tried to figure out how much damage we were going to incur this time. The roof needed to be replaced. I knew this and even had the quote for it—the ten-thousand-dollar quote which was about nine thousand dollars more than I had managed to save.

  A quick walk through the house or, as my realtor called it when I purchased this money pit, the quaint starter home in a quiet neighborhood, showed me exactly what I’d been afraid of. The water was far from isolated to the kitchen where I entered. It was in all the rooms except Seth’s.

  “Okay, little man, let’s get back in the car. It’s adventure day.” And by adventure day, I meant driving to my parents and crossing my fingers they would be amenable to the call about Seth. Last time, because this was time number three, I had gone to my then girlfriend Susan. It was a fairly quick spiral to a breakup from there. From the outside, it appeared the breakup was because of Seth—You know I never wanted children—but if me helping family had her leaving, then she was never all in. We simply weren’t meant to be, and good riddance.”

  Which left me going to my parents’ house, one of the last places I wanted to be. They had changed over the past few years, and just being in their presence had become stressful. But they were my parents and Seth their grandson, so doing anything other than trying to work through the stressors created by my dumbass brother was not an option.

  I never fully got my parents’ relationship with my older brother, Sam, and how that impacted their willingness to grandparent his son.

  When Sam was arrested the first time for drug possession, they lawyered up and paid for his treatment. When he was arrested for grand theft auto, they lawyered him up and sat by his side every day during the trial. When he was arrested for prostitution while propositioning an off-duty police officer for sex in exchange for drugs or money to buy drugs—he wasn’t picky—they wiped their hands of him.

  For whatever reason, drugs and car theft were fine, but the second he offered a blowjob in exchange for money, he was good and dead to them. And, sadly, that sometimes meant they were less than flexible with me when it came to Seth. It was almost as if they blamed him for reminding them of their son and his bad life ch
oices. Or maybe it was parent guilt. I had no idea, but whatever it was sucked, and I could only hope it smoothed over eventually. Seth deserved that. I deserved that. My parents deserved that. The entirety of it was a hot mess.

  By managing to get a third strike at the same time he got a judge who was tough as nails, Sam was thrown behind bars for twenty years. That time had increased thanks to bad choices behind bars. That was the one thing that never changed for Sam, his ability to make shitty-ass choices.

  What none of us knew at the time, including his lawyer, was that Sam had a child—Seth. He’d left him with an elderly neighbor who had never thought to call anyone when Sam disappeared. It wasn’t until the old fellow fell and had to call 911 that Seth was discovered by the authorities and eventually put in my care.

  “Call Mom,” I spoke to my car as I backed out of my driveway. In a few seconds, my mom picked up, grumpy as usual.

  “Gray.” No hello, just an acknowledgement of my name. “It’s dinnertime.”

  “Hello, Mom. I’m in the car with Seth, and we were hoping to stop by for a bit while I make some phone calls about my roof.” I used my best happy, happy voice. Seth had had enough unhappy in his life, and he didn’t need to feel the stressors of the situation.

  “If you must.” She sighed. The cold woman I spoke with was not the loving mother I grew up with. “He will need to be quiet.”

  Because that was how toddlers were.

  “If all goes well, it will only be an hour.” I had no hope of fixing the roof, but if I could get someone to come out and tarp it, that I could afford while I figured out a game plan.