by Aiden Bates
I sighed as I closed my own eyes, relishing the feeling of his body against mine for just a little while longer. It was silly to be having those fantasies. Probably not even right. Bennet was young and handsome—and I was probably still reeling from the power his heat had held over me ever since we’d found each other too desirable to resist. Scent and hormones, pheromones and horniness—that was all this was.
Chemistry. Pure and simple.
That had to be it.
And yet…
12
Bennet
“You fucked The Sergeant,” Mitch said, blinking rapidly with his mouth agape.
“What do you think looks better, the Chicken Milanese or the lobster mac and cheese?”
“You fucked The Sergeant.”
I ran my finger down the menu, squinting at the descriptions. “The Chicken Milanese has capers, though. Don’t particularly like those. Hmm…”
“You fucked The Sergeant.”
“Paillard de Veau… Wonder what that tastes like. Have you ever had veal before?”
“You fucked The Sergeant,” Mitch said one more time, a notch louder than his previous repetitions of that statement.
To our right, the waitress cleared her throat and tugged uncomfortably at her bow tie. “Are you two, um. Ready to order?”
“I’ll try the veal,” I decided, handing the waitress my menu. “Always good to try something new, right?”
“Good choice, sir.” She cast an anxious glance at Mitch, who still had yet to acknowledge her existence. “And for you, sir…”
“You. Fucked. The—”
“Yes, I fucked The Sergeant.” I rolled my eyes, snatching Mitch’s menu from him and passing it off to the poor waitress, who looked like she’d just swallowed a fly. “He’ll have the chicken. No wine, but could you bring us some waters? Tap is fine.”
“Of course, sir.” She scurried off as quickly as her little black kitten heels could carry her, casting a final, affronted glance back at Mitch as she went.
“You’ve gotta get over this, man,” I said, sighing and shaking my head at the redheaded omega sitting in front of me. “Yes, I fucked The Sergeant. But, well, you’re one to judge. Frankly, this is slut shaming at this point.”
“Oh, I’m not shaming, and I’ll remind you I’m seeing someone, so a little less of the ‘slut’, thank you. And please, don’t mistake my shock, surprise and overall interest for judgment, buddy. I’m just…”
I smirked. “Curious about how he was in bed?”
“Oh, very. But, no. Actually, I’m just wondering, how does one tell one’s best friend that one has had a three-day non-stop fuck session with said friend’s father, is all.”
“One, uh…” I swallowed, giving the waitress a nod of thanks as she filled up our water glasses. “One hasn’t entirely figured that out yet, to be honest.”
“Well, either way, it’s fucking hilarious. And—” Mitch closed his eyes, obviously running a mental play-by-play of what may or may not have happened between Logan O’Rourke and me behind his eyelids before looking at me again. “Pretty fucking hot.”
“Yeah, just…” I rolled my lips in between my teeth, pressing them down into a thin, colorless line. “I feel kind of terrible about it, actually.”
“Oh, shit. That bad?”
“Not at all. Quite, ah. Quite the contrary, actually. He was—”
“Hung?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Too hung?”
I considered it. “No, come to think of it—perfectly well endowed. But—”
Mitch’s eyes went wide. “Weird kinks? Oh, god, did he make you—”
“He didn’t make me do anything. And no, since you asked. No Fifty Shades stuff. At least, not yet.”
“Yet being the key word there.” Mitch’s smile stretched across his face so wide, it was a wonder he didn’t pull a muscle with it. “You’re going to see him again, then. Sign a sex contract and break out the handcuffs, huh?”
“Oh, god, no. Nothing like that. I don’t even know if I can see him again, Mitch. He’s Teddy’s dad, for chrissakes. All I was supposed to do was check in on him, make sure he wasn’t too lonely…”
“Heh. Well…” Mitch leaned back in his chair, glowing with pride. “He’s certainly not lonely anymore. Or at least, he wasn’t for a few days. But seriously, Ben, you’re going to fuck him again, right?”
“Mitch! Jesus, no.” I shook my head, reaching for my water and gulping it down. “It was a mistake to begin with. I wasn’t in my right mind, and neither was he.”
“Always was a little envious that your heat works like that.” Mitch paused, realizing what he was saying, and shook his head. “I mean, the other stuff, not so much fun, but The Sarge, Bennet. You fucked The—”
“It was just blowing off steam,” I explained. “Not anything more than that.”
“Mm… Yeah, but…” Mitch sipped at his own water, looking smug. “If you’re blowing off the kind of steam that would make Old Faithful shoot green with envy, is it really just steam at that point?”
I opened my mouth to respond to that, then closed it again as I decided against it. I’d already had this conversation with myself a dozen times or more over the last couple of weeks. Beginning as soon as I’d sent Logan home the morning after our final night together, and it’d spilled into every waking moment since.
My heat instigated the whole thing. I knew that. The intense, head-spinning draw of a hot, virile alpha to a fertile, needy omega in the throes of ovulation was something we’d been warned about since our very first sex ed class. It had been the focus of rom-coms, trashy paperback novels and bawdy drinking songs since time immemorial.
But that didn’t explain why Logan O’Rourke had been on my mind ever since. Not just in the way that made me anxious about what would happen if Teddy found out, but in a much more intimate sense. It wasn’t always even carnal—although, there’d been enough masturbation fodder created during our days together to keep me tugging my cock to the thought of Logan for another lifetime or two. I’d found myself missing the little things he’d done for me. The way he’d restacked the dishes in my cupboards for better accessibility. Arranged the blueberries in my waffles with a military kind of precision that would’ve made a professional sous chef proud of his presentation.
I’d found myself actually missing Logan’s presence in my life. His boots on the floor of my bedroom and his scent on my pillows.
Regardless, this wasn’t a conversation I needed to continue with Mitch. Maybe not ever—and certainly not now, not after the day I’d had at work before I’d hopped in the shower to head over to meet him for dinner.
“I think I might be tired of being a CNA, you know.” I shook out my napkin as the waitress approached the table with our meals, noting the slump of relief in her shoulders when she heard the conversation switch to something more normal. “You should’ve seen the floor today. They had Jose and I wrangling twenty patients each. We had to synchronize our bathroom breaks just to stop from getting behind.”
“Maybe the Sarge would like to come help.” Mitch’s eyes glimmered wickedly as he dug into his chicken. “Sounds like he was pretty into the idea of getting behind.”
I blinked twice, picking up my fork. “Have some decency and let me change the subject?”
“Ugh. Fine.” Mitch sighed, composing himself. “So, you get dicked by the Sarge for three days straight and now you want to quit your job. Thinking about enlisting?”
“I was thinking more like going back to school. Finally getting my license to be a practical nurse.”
“You’ve talked about that for ages.” Mitch nodded approvingly. “Might be nice. How’s Silas doing with his studies?”
I smiled at the thought of my brother’s soft-eyed omega husband. “He’s happy with it, actually. Halfway through the program already—and that’s with a kid and everything. Last time I spoke with him, he was pretty keen on the idea of me taking the next steps as well.
Offered to lend me his books and old notes.”
“Yeah? You should go for it, then, if that’s what you want.” Mitch smiled wistfully. “Always did think you’d be good at playing nurse.”
“I wouldn’t be playing, though,” I pointed out. “It’d be for real. Not just changing sheets and getting glasses of water—I’d actually be able to bandage wounds, give shots, really get hands-on in helping patients get well.”
“Oh!” Mitch’s grin turned wicked again. “You could practice on Logan!”
“Seriously, Mitch?” I scowled, dropping my fork to the table in frustration.
Mitch only shot me a saucy, half-apologetic grin. “Would you look at the time? Gotta go, Benny-boy. Going to Charlotte to meet Oliver.”
“The new omega you’ve been seeing? Your ex client?” Mitch had told me a bit more about him in a phone conversation we’d had to set up this dinner.
“Well, technically he still is my client, but, I don’t know, there’s something special about him.”
“Yeah?” I smiled, glad to have the attention off me and onto something a little less precarious. Then again, Mitch’s boss wouldn’t be happy if Mitch decided to leave the escort business for this guy.
Mitch smiled softly in return. “Yeah. I like him, a lot, and though he’s paying me to be with him, I’d gladly see him just because I want to. For me.” Mitch shrugged, then grinned once more. “Well, I’m off. I’ll grab the bill on the way out.” He reached over to ruffle my hair, and then he bolted. It was just like Mitch, really. That boy knew exactly when and how to make a hasty retreat. He would have known I’d want to ask more questions.
I turned to my own meal, which was as of yet untouched. Somehow, I doubted anything would taste as good as the food Logan had made during our sex romp, but how could it? Every morsel had been lovingly prepared by Logan, for me.
I cut into the veal anyway, pleasantly surprised by the taste. It was juicy, coated in some kind of lovely, lemony white sauce strewn with bits of garlic and long, thin green beans blanched to vibrancy. Not as good as those frozen waffles Logan had procured for me, maybe…
I shrugged as I cut into another bite. Not as good, but certainly not bad.
The rest of the meal went by quietly, with only thoughts of Logan to entertain me. The one good thing about work was that it had kept me on my feet just enough to keep me from fantasizing about the way Logan had swept me off of them. But now the day was over my distractions were beginning to dwindle and my attention span was running thin.
It was hard to even focus on anything else at this point. Everything I experienced only seemed to remind me of him.
I guess I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge how much of my waking thoughts seemed to center on Logan, but after my conversation with Mitch I couldn’t ignore the way Logan had somehow become an integral part of the way I’d begun to think. Logan had just lost his job, maybe, due to medical concerns. Me, I had wallowed in mine because I’d been afraid of making a change, worried how my heat would affect my performance, how my body would betray me. So, to be truthful, I hadn’t even bothered, but recently things had changed of their own accord. I’d allowed Logan into my bed, into my body. The first alpha since Chris had fucked me over. Yeah, Logan had fucked me, but he’d done it to help me.
Logan had proven himself to be generous and thoughtful, even when he’d been dealing with issues of his own. What other alpha did I know who’d do that? And maybe… Maybe I could help Logan. It was hard having to get used to change, and I’m sure he wasn’t finding his new circumstance easy. If I could do something to ease his transition from military man to…someone else, I’d be more than happy to do it.
As I waved goodbye to the blushing waitress on my way out, I clicked the unlock button on my key fob and considered dropping by Logan’s place on the way home. I had promised Teddy I’d keep tabs on the Sarge, after all, and Logan was lonely. He’d admitted as much to me himself. Being on your own was hard—I knew that well enough. Stopping by Logan’s before I headed home didn’t mean I was about to fall back into bed with him or anything. Really, it was just a nice thing to do. I still owed him a thank you for everything he’d done for me during my heat and…
Well, at least it couldn’t hurt to make sure he was doing okay.
“Bennet. Hey.” Logan’s voice was deep and dark as ever as he answered my call. “Having a good night?”
“Hey, Logan.” I tucked the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I shifted behind the wheel of my car, pulling the door shut behind me. “Yeah, not bad. How’re you doing?”
“Just thinking of you, actually.” He gave a soft, low laugh. “Was about to grill up some steaks. Remembered how much you liked the ones I made in the cast iron on the stove top the other week…”
“Mm.” I closed my eyes as the memory of rich butter, garlic and thyme basted over the perfect crust of a rib-eye, soft in the middle and beautifully charred on the outside, played over my taste buds all over again. “You do make a mean steak. Best I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah? You’re welcome to join me. Got more than enough meat here for you.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” I laughed at my own joke, pressing a hand to my stomach. The veal had been gorgeous, but had it really satisfied my appetite? “I’m, ah…famished, actually. That sounds amazing. As long as you’re sure I’m not imposing?”
“Bennet, please. You’re welcome here any time. Could never possibly impose.”
I hung up the phone, feeling my stomach already rumbling in eagerness for another of Logan’s steaks. I may have just eaten dinner, but as it turned out, I was still starving.
13
Logan
I flipped the steaks over at four minutes exactly, feeling the heat of the flames as they roared to life with every sizzle of juice that dripped down into the maw of the grill.
Doctors of all stripes could go fuck themselves. I’d been healthy my entire life. Eaten my greens. Taken the fish oil. Skipped dessert and run until my legs felt like grape jelly at the knees. It was the knees I’d always figured would take me out. There’d always been too much of me, too much height and weight in muscle impacting down on them as I raced across mud, dirt and pavement, for them to possibly last forever. But my heart— My heart was the one thing I’d always figured would keep on ticking ad infinitum.
Now I was taking meds and worrying about my ticker anyway, I didn’t see any reason to deny myself my heart’s greatest desire: red meat, expertly cut by my favorite butcher, cooked to a perfect rare and straight off of the grill.
I nudged the ears of sweet corn I’d thrown in for good measure with my tongs, rolling them over to reveal a gorgeous char on the yellow and white kernels before I closed the grill. There were a couple of foil packs of garlic potatoes and broccoli steaming away in there as well—I might have been giving in to what I wanted, but that didn’t mean I had to be a vegetable-hating caveman about it.
“Good look for you,” Bennet called out, rounding the side of my house and opening the gate to the backyard as the smoke from the grill wound its way skyward. He nodded to my ensemble—jeans, a t-shirt, and an apron that read Grill Sergeant.
Speaking of giving in to what I wanted…
I chuckled, flipping my grilling tongs artfully and snatching them out of the air. “Do you mean the apron or the whole big manly alpha grills meat over open flame thing?”
Bennet smirked. “Both, but particularly the apron. Teddy give that to you?”
I chuckled. “Sure as hell wouldn’t have bought it for myself.”
“Mm. Swearing, red meat and novelty aprons.” Bennet sidled up to the grill, looking me up and down again. “You’re in a particularly good mood tonight.”
I glanced at the way the sun was sinking slowly down over the tree line to the west, grateful that it was getting dark so late these days. Meant I could still see how handsome Bennet looked in the light—not that he ever seemed to look bad in any light. Dressed in a pair of chinos and a navy button-down
with little anchors on it that brought out the blue of his eyes, he actually looked gorgeous.
“Good food, good company. How could I not be?” I nodded to the cooler I’d dragged out from the garage, placed just far enough away from the grill so the ice inside it wouldn’t be in danger of melting too quickly. “Even picked up some beers, if you want one.”
“Beers?” Bennet laughed, obviously just as surprised by my newfound nod to culinary hedonism as I’d been when I’d picked them up from the store. “You are in a good mood. Did you get your looming medical discharge reversed or something?”
I furrowed my brow. It was a fair question, but still, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to dwelling on that tonight. “No. Not yet.” Determined not to let Dr. Smith and Ross’s assault on my career get me down for the count quite yet, I shifted my frown into a little grin. “Just been feeling like adopting a new attitude lately, is all.”
“New attitude, huh?” Bennet cocked an eyebrow, taking another step closer. “Nothing wrong with that. Still…” He glanced back at the beer cooler and shrugged. “No need to take it to any extremes, I don’t think. I’m happy saying no to the beer if you are.” He smiled up at me softly. “I’m just happy to see you relaxing a little about it, is all.”
“Yeah… Yeah, me too.” I placed the tongs back onto their hook on the side of the grill and held my arms open wide. “I’m fifty-five, Bennet. Not dead yet. I’ve got plenty of vim in me—lots of it.” I returned his smile as I let my arms fall back to my sides. “Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?”
“Good attitude.”
