by Aiden Bates
As excited as I was for Bennet’s heat, I knew the keyword this time was caution. Last time this had played out between us, we’d probably dodged a baby-shaped bullet. Neither of us had been prepared when I’d turned up at his house, and though Bennet’s injuries more than likely prevented him from becoming pregnant, it wasn’t impossible. And I was too old for kids, so I was making sure I’d have plenty of condoms on hand.
With as much cum as I’d found myself pumping into Bennet’s round, pert, perfect ass last time, I honestly thought we’d need them.
All condoms accounted for, I settled down in my favorite armchair with my current Ian Fleming novel—I was working on The Man with the Golden Gun—and tried to focus on the words while waiting for Bennet to knock on my door. But no matter how hard I worked at taking in the sentences on the pages, all I managed to do was read the same paragraph over and over again for what felt like an hour. When I checked my watch to confirm, I realized it’d only actually been thirty minutes. Still, far too long to wait for what shouldn’t have been more than a ten-minute drive.
My heart plunged into my stomach. Something had to be wrong. Bennet was a careful driver, as far as I could tell. But no matter how many red lights he’d hit on the way over, it shouldn’t have been taking him so long.
I threw the book down on the end table next to the chair and took up what was quickly becoming my new favorite pastime: pacing. Maybe he’d gotten caught up at work last minute, but if that had been the case, he would have called.
A dozen worst-case scenarios ran through my head like loosed lightning. A flat tire that Bennet’s father had never taught him how to change. A dead battery, dead cell phone, and no one to help him jump start his car back to life. But those were mild enough. Fixable. The worries ran so much darker than that, when I got right down to it. A traffic accident. A texting teen piloting their mother’s minivan on the way to the movies. A drunk driver headed from one bar to another as he rolled through stop sign after stop sign.
I was just preparing to call Bennet himself, if only to assuage what I was hoping were just pre-heat nerves, when I finally heard his familiar rap on my door: three swift, simple knocks.
I’d never heard anything more beautiful in all my life.
But when I opened the door to him, my worries came crashing back like a semi-truck skidding along on an oil patch. The way his teeth were already digging into his lower lip. The crinkle in his brow. The nervousness in his eyes.
Something was wrong.
I could only hope he trusted me enough to tell me what it was.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?”
Bennet fidgeted on the front step. For a moment, I thought maybe his heat had already hit. Hard enough, maybe, that he’d had a rough time staying focused on his way over. But a careful inhale told me otherwise. No telltale sweetness. No scent so strong and heady that it made my cock stand up and salute as soon as it hit my lungs. A glance over his shoulder told me his truck was alright, but as Bennet opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, it was obvious Bennet himself was far from the same state.
“My heat hasn’t come on,” he finally said. “But guess you already knew that.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, releasing a laugh on the end of it. “Is that all? You know, you don’t have to worry about that. I said I was excited, was all. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you here with me even if you’re not howling for my cock.”
Bennet swallowed, nodding as I wound an arm around his waist and drew him inside. “I’m just…still not feeling very well, I guess. Had to pull over to puke on the way here. It’s…embarrassing.”
“Want some mouthwash?” I inclined my head toward the bathroom. If embarrassment was all that was wrong, we could fix that quick enough. “Drink of water?”
“I’m okay, Logan. It’s just… I don’t know what’s going on with me. My heat’s unpredictable, sure, but if…” He hung his head as he sat down on my couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “If I was going to get any indicators of it, these would be it. And yet…”
“You’ve been sick, remember?” I sat down next to him and rested my hand on his back. “Probably just still riding that out. And, you know, sometimes Roland would feel a false heat coming on if he was stressed or on the pill. Might not be anything.”
“Maybe not.” Bennet nodded, looking like he was only about half as sure of it as he sounded. “It’s just…weird. Weird and worrying.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay. Thought maybe something had happened…” I considered telling him how I’d felt when I realized how long he’d taken. The fear in the pit of my belly at the thought of him slumped against his steering wheel or pinned under some road raging businessman’s SUV. But he looked worried enough as it was. No reason to pile my own nervousness on top of it. “How about some dinner? I’ve got lamb chops and some quinoa in the fridge we could make up. If you wanted.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
I directed dinner the same way I’d led my men in the Middle East. Firm. Decisive. With caution. A keen, wary eye helped me stop Bennet from catching a kitchen towel on fire as he toasted pine nuts, but a softness I’d never been able to let my troops see before stopped him from over-apologizing about it with a tender kiss on his cheek.
“This is amazing,” Bennet said, the worry finally smoothing out from his brow as we finally sat down at the table to eat. “Funny to think I once believed you didn’t know how to cook.”
I smirked. “You’re still remembering the plain tuna on wheat toast.”
Bennet matched my smile, looking up at me with a wry fondness in his blues. “Looks like indulging a little has been good for you.”
“In more ways than one,” I agreed.
Dinner and dishes carried on with a domestic comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time. Bennet cleared the table while I scrubbed down my cast iron. I washed, he dried. It was almost otherworldly, the way our bodies moved in sync with each other as we wheeled around the kitchen, tucking the dishes back into their appropriate drawers and cupboards. Like we could already anticipate each other’s movements—guess where the other would be and position ourselves to accommodate it.
As Bennet tucked the last fork into its drawer, I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing a firm, wet kiss to his nape. He shivered beneath me, moaning softly and arching with pleasure. The way his ass rolled back against my body, just catching the swelling bulge of my cock in my jeans, was nothing short of divine.
“You know,” I suggested, purring into his ear. “If you’re worried about your heat coming on, maybe I could help with that.”
“Oh?” Bennet relaxed his shoulders against my chest. “And how on earth do you plan on doing that.”
I curled my fingers around his belt, tugging at it gently. “Maybe your body just needs a little…encouragement.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, Logan.”
“No?”
“Mm. No. But…” He rolled his head back, resting it on my collarbone as I plucked his belt free of its buckle. “I’m not saying it’s not worth trying. You know. For science.”
“Mm. Yes.” I thumbed at the button of his jeans, turning him beneath my hands to face me. “For science.”
I kissed him, long and deep. I could still taste the richness of dinner on his tongue, his saliva mingling with mine as I backed us out of the kitchen and into the living room, where I tumbled into my favorite armchair, Bennet joining me, jeans and boxers tugged off his legs before his knees nestled against my hips.
“You’re hard,” I said against his kiss as I captured his cock with my fist. The long, thick shaft of it was warm against my hand, stiff and firm all the way through. The skin over it was velvety soft, a contrast to my own callouses and rough palms. “God, I love you hard.”
“Mm. Love you making me hard.” He closed his eyes and began thrusting toward me with every pump of my fist.
“You want to come, sweeth
eart?”
He nodded, quick and eager. “Keep that up and I won’t have a choice.”
I curled an arm around his hip, yanking him closer to me as I used the fingers of my free hand to cup his ass then probe between the cheeks of it. I ran my fingers toward his hole, finding it surprisingly warm and wet despite the fact that his heat hadn’t started yet.
“Mm. Soaked for me, too.” I withdrew my fingers for just long enough to suck them into my mouth, tasting his honey on my tongue before diving back in with them. I ran circles around the tight pucker of his hole, enjoying the way it made him gasp with increasing need before I finally pressed the middle one into him, delving deep in a come-hither motion to massage his prostate.
“Oh, fuck.” Bennet’s hips lifted up as if to pull away from me as I found his sweet spot, then plunged back down onto my finger as he realized how good it felt. “Logan…god, I want you inside me. Please. Now.”
“Thought you might.” I rose up for a kiss, capturing his lips against mine as I pulled my finger out of him. I quickly thought about the condoms I’d stashed, but like in the lawn chair the other day, without him being in heat chances were we’d be safe. But unlike then, I at least had one on hand to use if Bennet wanted me to use one.
I plucked it from where I’d shoved it between the cushion beneath us and the arm of the chair.
“Condom?” I asked.
Bennet looked half-dazed with pleasure and hungry to feel more. “Not on heat. Don’t…”
His words were broken up by a sharp intake of breath as I twisted my fist around his cock, coating my palm in his precum then stroking back down a little faster.
“Don’t?” I asked, biting back a chuckle.
Bennet shuddered. “Don’t want anything between us. On heat, when I’m fertile, then yeah, I understand, even if it is unlikely I’ll fall pregnant, but not now. Please.”
His words, his trust, made my heart swell with an emotion I was beginning to recognize even as I worried it was too soon. If I knew how Bennet felt about me, maybe then…
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I kissed gently against his neck along the collar of his shirt. “I just want you to be comfortable around me. I want you to know you can always feel safe with me.”
Bennet nodded, whimpering as he positioned his soaked, lubricated hole over my hard, throbbing cockhead. “I know. I do. I know.”
I fucked him slow. Sweet. Loving. Every thrust up into his ass left my body yearning for another. Every moan I claimed from his lips only made me want to take him that much more. I felt connected to him, not just in body, but in mind. Spirit. Heart. The way Bennet rocked against me, riding me a little faster, a little harder with every gasp, felt like something holy. Sacred. We moved together like two hands pressed in prayer, until Bennet was shaking hard enough that I knew he would be over the edge, orgasming around me at any moment. I held him tight, wanting him so much, loving him so much.
“I love you…” Bennet murmured, lips shivering just as hard as his knees were.
“That’s it, Bennet. Let it go. Give it to me,” I urged, the sound of his voice, the context of his words flooding my chest with warmth.
With another thrust, he cried it out again, louder this time. “I love you… Oh, god, Logan, I love you! I love you!”
My body tensed violently beneath him as his declaration pushed me into an orgasm of my own. Hot, creamy cum spilled from my cock, painting his insides with my seed as his ass clenched around me, milking me of every last drop.
“I love you.” Bennet’s voice was only a shaky, shuddering whisper as he convulsed against me, letting my body take his full weight as he rode his orgasm out, cum waterfalling down my fist and pooling against my pelvis.
“I love you,” he said again, this time in between soft, desperate kisses against my neck. His words came out like a mantra: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
“I love you too, sweet thing.” We were quiet for a moment, our breaths matched perfectly. Every intake of air into my lungs came with an exhale from his. All that there was between us was the sound of our breathing, chests rising and falling against each other. Then, I said it again. For good measure, and because I meant it. More than I’d ever meant anything in all my life. “I love you too.”
“So. Casual, huh?” I could feel Bennet’s cheek flush pink against my neck as his body was wracked with an embarrassed laugh.”
“Mm. Yeah.” I wrapped my arms around him, holding him against me and breathing in the scent of his hair against my nose. He smelled incredible—differently than he’d been when he was in heat, but still strong and sweet and almost as overpowering with how impossibly good it was. It made me want to hold him as hard as I could. As long as I could. Maybe even—if he’d let me—hold him forever. “Completely casual.”
The next morning, I felt the bed creak beneath me in a frantic jerk. When I reached over, blinking my eyes open to search for the source, I caught the side of Bennet’s bare thigh as he launched himself off the mattress and toward the bathroom in a flurry, tugging the sheets up with him and kicking them off in his wake.
“Bennet?” I rubbed my eyes, and then quickly patted the nightstand for the lamp.
I switched it on, bathing the room in a soft golden light. The alarm clock read ten minutes to five, with only the slightest hint of sunrise coming up through the window behind us.
Strange. Bennet had never struck me as a morning person before.
The only answer to my call was, to my dismay, the sound of retching. He’d seemed fine after dinner last night, but now I could hear him heaving against the toilet all over again. Bennet only reemerged from the master bath after flushing away the evidence. When he did, he still looked more green than he did pale.
“Sorry,” Bennet said, not meeting my eyes as he wiped his mouth clean of spittle. “I would like to, um…take you up on that mouthwash now.”
“Stomach bug?”
He nodded, but as his eyes met mine, it was apparent that neither of us believed that.
I rose from the bed, and once in the bathroom I grabbed the mouthwash. I passed it to him, and then surveyed the way he leaned himself up against the sink as he swished and spat.
Deep breath. Deep breath.
If this was a stomach bug, then I was G.I.-fucking Joe.
“I think…” I placed my hand on his bare back, feeling the ridges of his spine and the cold clamminess of his skin beneath my warm, rough palm. “I think we might need to get a pregnancy test, sweetheart.”
He straightened abruptly, eyes wide with fear. His hand shot to his stomach, pressing against the hard lines of his abs as he shook his head.
“No,” he said, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and biting down. “No, no. It can’t be that.”
“But it might—”
“No,” Bennet insisted, jaw clenching as his eyes focused and unfocused up at me. “No, Logan, I can’t. It can’t be.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I said, trying to calm the panic so visible in every line of his body while I tried to believe what I was telling him. “It’s going to be okay.”
16
Bennet
It couldn’t be. It didn’t feel possible.
But if Logan’s hunch was right…
I glanced up and down the aisle of the pharmacy, suddenly ultra-aware of the other people shopping around us: A petite elderly woman with hair so grey it was almost blue in the drugstore’s harsh florescent light, comparing different brands of vitamin supplements. Two teenagers, a young alpha and omega, just to our left, giggling as they surveyed the condom selection.
If Logan’s hunch was right and I was really pregnant, I didn’t know what I’d do. Even being seen buying a test made my skin crawl, though I wasn’t sure why an old woman and two horny teenagers would actually care.
“They’re not staring at you,” Logan said in a low voice, resting his hand on the small of my back just above my belt. “Or at least, they won’t be, as long as yo
u stop staring at them.”
“Sorry.” I turned my gaze to the pregnancy tests instead, a shelf full of slender boxes marked with pink and blue packaging. “I just…feel like they’re judging me or something.”
Logan glanced to our left again, where the teenage boys had started throwing boxes of condoms at each other, laughing and chomping away on bubblegum so sweet I could smell it from several feet away. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you. You’re interesting, but you’re not that interesting. Here, we’ll get this one.”
I blinked as Logan grabbed an error-proof test with an exorbitant price tag off the shelf; expensive, at least, for something I was only going to end up peeing on.
“That’s nearly twenty dollars,” I said under my breath like a curse. I ran my fingertips along my hairline just above my forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that was building there. “Don’t you think one of the cheaper ones would be just as good?”
“There are three things you should never cheap out on in this world, Bennet,” Logan said sagely as he guided me around the teen boys up toward the check-out. “Condoms, peanut butter, and pregnancy tests.”
I furrowed my brow as Logan paused at a display of antacids, weighing between the fruit flavored bottle and mint one for a moment before tucking both beneath his arm.
“To help with your stomach,” he explained when he saw the annoyance on my face. I wanted to get out of this place as fast as possible. Before we ran into anyone I knew—or worse, anyone who knew us both.
