by Aiden Bates
I was so warm, every inch of water felt like it was laced with ice. But I could feel the intensity of my heat abating. At least, for a little while.
At least, for now.
Except I knew better than to think it would let up for long. Unpredictable as my heat was, historically speaking it had never lasted for less than three or four days at a time. If it was as bad as I thought this one might be—and all signs pointed to it being the worst one yet—then I might be out of commission for a week or more.
Shit.
Out of the bath, I wrapped myself up in a fluffy, comfortable blue robe, still shivering from the chill of the water as I reached for my phone. My fingers trembled as I pulled up the number for the hospital, and whether that was from my heat or my orgasm or the cold, it was hard to say.
“Hey, man,” I said, recognizing Jose’s voice when he picked up the phone. “It’s Bennet. I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to burn some sick days. Probably going to be out of commission for a week or so. Less, if we’re lucky.”
“Oh, god. Don’t tell me you’ve got a hangover too.” I could hear the annoyance in his voice, dragging a tinge of guilt through my chest.
“I wish that was all I had,” I grumbled. “I’ve got, uh. Omega problems, you could say.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Bennet, I know how annoying that must—”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry I’m having to call in like this. It’s just—”
“No, no. I get it, I understand. Besides, it’s not like Andrew and Lex don’t owe you one after all the times you’ve covered for their horny asses.” He paused, obviously hesitating. “Do you, uh. Need anything? I remember your heats are normally pretty intense, so if you—”
“Nah, don’t worry about me.” I gnawed on my lower lip. Even I was a little worried about me, but I didn’t want Jose to have to do the same. “I’ve got the weekend off, at least, but hopefully this’ll be over in time so I can come back for my Thursday shift.”
“Take all the time you need. Heat can be a hell of a thing. I’ll tell Dr. Smith, but I’m sure he’ll okay your leave, so just— Fuck.” In the background, I could hear a code being called out over the intercom. Jose’s cue to take off. “Gotta go, feel better, man!”
“Thanks,” I said, just in time to make it before I heard the click as Jose slammed down the phone.
I lay there in bed, my legs dangling off the end for a few seconds before I felt my phone vibrating against my chest with another call.
“Teddy?” I asked, my heart suddenly pounding again. There was no way he could have known I’d just stroked myself to orgasm imagining his dad’s dick in my ass, unless he had some kind of secret magic power or something? ESP directly related to who was currently fantasizing about his dad’s cock? It sounded ridiculous, but given the timing, I felt myself panic with an almost childlike nervousness of being found out—like a kid with his hand still sticky with crumbs from the cookie jar.
“Hey, Bennet. How’d it go?”
“I didn’t fuck your dad,” I blurted before I could stop my mouth. Fuck, that was the worst thing I could have said, and I think I nearly gave Teddy a coronary by the way I heard him choke and sputter on the other end of the line.
“What?” Teddy coughed a few more times. “Um… I mean, wow, yeah, okay. That’s…good.” An awkward silence followed as my cheeks flushed more pink than ever.
Smooth, Bennet. Real fucking smooth.
“Are you, uh…in heat or something?”
“Ah…yeah, sorry. Hit at, um, the most unfortunate possible time?”
I could hear the cringe in Teddy’s voice. “Yikes. When you were over at the Sarge’s place?”
“Just as I was getting ready to leave, yeah. Little embarrassing, huh?”
Teddy groaned. “Heat always is. You should’ve seen me the first time I went into it after Viola was born… I was one bottle of Viagra away from force-feeding Roman a strict diet of little blue pills and keeping him chained to the bed.”
“Kinky.”
“Ugh. More like a hormonal nightmare. I was such a mess, it was hardly even sexy. And it’s… I mean, I remember you have it worse than most. How bad is it this time?”
“Pretty bad,” I admitted. “But nothing I can’t handle. Definitely feeling that chained-to-the-bed level of desperation, though.”
Teddy laughed. “Maybe it’s for the best you got your visit with my dad out of the way when you did. He didn’t give you a hard time for it, did he?”
I tittered nervously. Despite my earlier fears, Teddy obviously had no way of knowing exactly what a hard time his father had given me—at least, in my head, anyway.
“Nah, he was really gentlemanly about it,” I said, doing my best to compose myself. “I think you’re right, though. He’s pretty lonely.”
“Poor guy.” Teddy clucked softly. “I appreciate you going over there anyway. Especially since it ended with… Well.” He went quiet for a moment. “Have you tried asking the doctors about a heat suppressor again?”
“Ugh. I’ve begged them for it. But the doctors say I’m too high-risk for complications. Hormones.” I gave another little laugh. It was a punchline without a joke. “I’ll ride out the cramps and the craziness here at my place until my body settles down again. I’m pretty used to sequestering myself, you know.”
“Yeah, well, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Maybe ring Mitch up, too? I hate that it’s like this for you. It might be good for you to have someone along for the ride. Don’t like the idea of you going through all this alone.”
“Yeah, I’ll give him a call,” I promised before we said our goodbyes.
But after we’d hung up, I found I didn’t really have the energy to deal with Mitch at the moment. I’d nearly told Teddy about my little fantasy with the Sergeant. Knowing Mitch, he’d have me spilling the beans about it within five minutes of setting foot through my door.
And for the moment…
I groaned as I rolled over in bed, feeling my cock start to stiffen all over again.
For the moment, I only had enough head space to deal with one man, and he certainly wasn’t one of my omega friends.
Logan O’Rourke. Sweet, handsome, built, completely off-limits…
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head.
9
Logan
I could hardly believe it. I didn’t even want to. I opened every window in the house trying to make it better. Sprayed Febreze. Even lit a couple of ancient scented candles Roland had left behind, so long forgotten in the hall closet he hadn’t even remembered them during the divorce.
But whatever I did, it didn’t matter. Not really.
For the entire weekend, the scent of Bennet’s heat lingered in the air.
By the time Monday rolled around, I’d jerked myself off to the point I was nearly sick with it. The lack of control a fertile, handsome omega could instill, even in an alpha my age, was not an excuse to tug at my cock and think untoward thoughts about a man not any older than my own son.
I’d built my career, my body and my life on my ability to resist—whether it was trans fats, chocolate mousse, that third bourbon during a night on the town or sleeping in on a Saturday morning. A man didn’t get to the places I’d gotten in life based on a lack of self-control. But then, Bennet Long had come charming his way into my life. Smiling at me with those peachy lips and soft blue eyes. Laughing at the things I said, whether or not they were actually funny. And worst of all, going into heat.
In my dining room. In my kitchen. If I closed my eyes I could nearly smell the path he’d taken on his way out the door. The sweetness of him was so present I half believed I was imagining it, but then I’d set foot into the dining room, breathe in the air and immediately find myself rock hard in a way only hormones and pheromones could explain.
Whatever it was, though, it was getting to me. Raising my testosterone. Making something click in my caveman brain that hadn’t come to
gether in years. Bennet Long. His scent. The flush of his cheeks and the way he’d stared at me as his heat set in—not just like I was some kind of surrogate father figure to make up for the loss of his childhood to that bastard who had dared to call himself a dad, but like I was someone desirable. Someone he wanted. Someone who could give him what he needed—in, I reminded myself, all the wrong ways.
It had kept me up at night, all night, all weekend long. By Monday morning when I headed onto the base to report for duty, Sergeant Wheeler caught sight of the dark circles that must have been underlining my eyes and intercepted me before I even had a chance to make it to my office.
“Long weekend, Sergeant?” Wheeler asked, moving to nudge me in the ribs.
I caught the motion with my gaze and watched as he froze, mid-jab, and immediately thought better of his actions.
Good. I might have been tired and horny as all get out, but at least I hadn’t lost my edge.
“Ah…right. Well, uh. Your CO wants to see you. Maybe you’re, uh…” He clocked the steel of my gaze again, amplified thanks to the first sleepless nights I’d had in the better part of a decade. “In trouble,” he added lamely, obviously regretting the words even as they came out of his mouth.
Wheeler quickly turned back to his troops, managing to raise his voice a little more than usual as he called out the men who weren’t quite giving their morning push-ups their all just yet. It was the one bright spot of the morning—specifically if Ross wanted to see me. My mind had been so consumed with thoughts of Bennet, his heat and the things it had done to me, I’d barely been able to think about anything else all weekend. As far as I’d been concerned, my problems had begun at the base of my cock and ended at the stiff, throbbing tip of it. Anything else had become ultimately secondary in the meantime.
Including, but not limited to, my visit with Dr. Smith last week.
When I entered Ross’s office, the weight of my results was already etched into the lines of his face. I knew what he was about to say a full minute before he said it—so when he finally lowered his glasses and looked up at me from his paperwork, I was already expecting the worst.
“Logan,” he said, in the same way my father’s friends had said my name at his funeral before the preacher had popped open his bible and “Taps” had been played. “I’ve got some bad news sitting here in front of me.”
“I imagine so, Sergeant Major,” I said, shoulders back and chin tilted up. “If no news is good news, then I can extrapolate what the inverse means.”
Ross sighed a heavy, tired sigh. From the sound of him, he’d had just as sleepless of a weekend as I had, though I doubted it was for the same reasons.
“You know what Dr. Smith’s report means, don’t you?”
I inclined my head downward half an inch. “It’s time to retire, right?”
“Would seem that way.”
The other half of my nod tilted my chin back up into position. “I’m perfectly capable to serve, Sergeant Major.”
“I’ve asked you once to cut it with the formality on this matter.” Ross’s eyes were full of sympathy—sympathy I didn’t need. “Why don’t you sit down? This isn’t about rank.”
He nodded to the chair in front of his desk, and with every muscle in my body begging to do otherwise, I lowered myself into it. Hadn’t felt like this since I was a schoolboy, getting hauled into the principal’s office for pushing the schoolyard bullies up against the wall when I found them picking on the disabled kids. In a way, this felt just as unjust as it had back then.
“We’ve known each other since you enlisted, haven’t we, Logan?”
I made a tiny grunt of agreement. “Suppose we have, Ross.”
“Since we were green as our current crop of trainees. Isn’t that right?”
“I don’t think anyone could be as green as our newest recruits.”
Ross laughed. “That may be, but I do know you, and I know you’re stubborn as they come. Me calling you into my office like this, well, you know yourself it’s the only way we could have this conversation. You know you wouldn’t be hearing a word of it otherwise.”
“Yeah, well.” I glanced at the calendar on his wall, American eagles flying over a wheat field in the picture. Every day of the month crossed off beneath it. Desperate to do anything other than meet Ross’s gaze and see sympathy there for me all over again. “Maybe I’ve got good reason to not want to hear it.”
“We’re friends, Logan. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Ross leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his desk. “As your superior, you know it’s my duty to let you know it’s time to resign.”
The tension built in my jaw at the mere mention of something so preposterous, to the point that the tendons felt nearly ready to snap under the strain. “Suppose you’d best do it, then.”
Ross shook his head, breathing in a sharp breath and releasing it slowly. “As your friend, you know I won’t.”
I stared him down, eyebrow twitching slightly in surprise. “That’s kind of you.”
“But—” Ross sent that surprise spiraling back into doubt in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t think it’d be right to point out the benefits of an early retirement. You’ve served well. Got a great pension going for you. A medical discharge isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”
Impossibly, my jaw tensed harder. “You and I might disagree on that much.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Logan. You’ve got a grandkid now, for Pete’s sake! The last thing you need right now is the stress we both know this job puts on us. If you have any lick of sense left in that hard-headed skull of yours, you’d stop worrying about your career and start worrying about sticking around to see baby Viola grow up instead.”
A hard, sharp breath escaped from my nostrils, like a bull before a matador swinging his cape. “So, you’re not telling me to resign, you’re asking me to. Is there any difference?”
Ross blinked, obviously reigning himself in for my sake. “I’m asking you to take this with grace. Not fight me for it. Not hate me for it—because dammit, Logan, it’s for your own good.”
“I… I don’t know if I can do that,” I said, letting my chin drop slightly. “Can’t hate you for doing your job, but…”
“Yeah. I know, you old jarhead. If I were in your position I’d probably feel the same.” Ross shifted what must have been my medical files beneath his arms and pulled out the big, red stamp that would seal my fate whether I liked it or not.
“Unfortunately, though, the tables aren’t turned right now. As far as Dr. Smith is concerned, all signs point to you having another heart attack within the next year if things don’t change soon—and fast, too.”
“So you’re discharging me from service.” Even hearing the words from my own mouth sounded like a death sentence.
“No.” Ross stamped the papers, looking me in the eye the whole time. “I’m putting you on leave.”
“Mandatory?”
“Mandatory. Effective immediately.”
I looked down at that big, red stamp across my file and swallowed hard. “I see.”
“It’s just for now, Logan.” Ross’s voice was almost patronizingly soft. Like he was talking down a bucking bronco, too old for the rodeo but with too much fight in him to be sent to the glue factory just yet. “Take a month. Take care of yourself. Hell, learn to mediate like those Buddhist monks do. Get your heart rate steady and your cholesterol down. Keep taking your pills, see if they’re helping. And most of all, stop worrying about everything, Logan. That’s an order.”
“And after that month?”
Ross shrugged. “Check back in with the doc. See where you’re at. The meds could sort you out. Maybe the treatment plan works.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Ross’s lips pulled into a thin, grim line. “You spent the better part of a decade risking your life in the Middle East for this country, Logan. I’m not going to let you risk your life now you’re back here at home just because you’re
too stubborn to save yourself.”
My heart plummeted, crashing into my stomach in a free fall I couldn’t imagine Dr. Smith would be happy about.
Ross was benching me. At best, for a month. At worst, for good. He’d said this wasn’t about rank, but he could hardly pretend that mandatory leave was anything but.
“Sir,” I said in parting. I rose, gave him my stiffest salute and headed out the door.
Whatever he yelled after me, I didn’t want or need to hear it.
I made it all the way out to my truck without putting my boot through anything—barely. As soon as I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind me I finally let out a frustrated snarl and pounded my fist into the leather of the seat next to me. I knew Ross was in the right. Rationally speaking I knew it wasn’t his fault, or Dr. Smith’s fault, or even my own fault this was happening to me. But that didn’t stop me from being furious at the two of them anyway, and most of all, angry at myself.
I’d lived my entire life under the assumption I was doing the right things for my body. Exercise. Eating well. The whole shebang. But if I’d only known, despite all that, my heart would be turning against me anyway… I didn’t know what more I could have done, but there must have been something. That cheeseburger I ate on my birthday the year before Roland left. Those occasional whiskeys at Simmer. Maybe they’d all added up against me, slowly but surely over time.
In the end, I supposed, it didn’t matter. All I could do now was follow the program Dr. Smith had laid out for me. Take my month off and hope. Either I’d get better or I wouldn’t.
Either I’d be allowed to get back to business as usual or I’d have to find something else to do with the rest of my life.
That was the biggest issue for the rest of my day, as far as I could see it. Apart from a handful of vacations I’d grumbled my way through in annoyance, it had been a long time since I’d had so many free hours in my day. But now, my agenda was completely open. My schedule hadn’t just been cleared—it’d been completely eviscerated.
