Crossbred Son

by Brenna Lyons

  Her heart aching, Abby forced herself to answer. “If that’s what you want. Sure.”

  What? He’s supposed to fall in bed with me after everything we’ve been through? Part of her wished he would. The rest knew that era of their lives was over.

  Abby fled the table. By the time Gabe had Michael out of the highchair, the blanket and pillow were in Michael’s nursery, and she was closed into her bedroom.

  ****

  Gabe looked down at the pile of linens on Michael’s floor, swallowing down a roar, his ridge plates coming halfway erect. Michael looked up at him sharply, his ridge plates stirred, and his eye slits narrowed. Gabe forced his back and rumbled out a calming sound in Xxan. One fist went into his son’s mouth, and he started teething on the knuckles.

  He’d hoped Abby would argue with him, offer him somewhere else to sleep. When she’d sounded so hesitant, he’d been sure Abby would act on her continuing attraction to him and invite Gabe to her bed.

  I’m dreaming. It’s over. She’s offering me a place in our son’s life, but she’s not interested in us as a couple anymore.

  He looked down at Michael, offered a weak smile, then collected a fresh sleeper from the bureau and a diaper from the changing table.

  Soft. Spice Industries made the softest, most absorbent diapers around, and they sold them at a discount to Xxanian families, calling it a ‘medial need’ to have such diapers for crossbred infants. With SLAL aiding Abby, it was clear they’d arranged for Spice diapers for Michael. Only the best for my son.

  “It’s time for a bath, little man.” It was long past time for a seir’s first bathing of his son. Gabe pulled the bottle of clove bath gel out of his bag and carried baby and supplies to the bathroom.

  He set Michael on the plush bath rug, and the baby clapped his hands on his thighs.

  Gabe smiled widely. “Like your bath, do you? Well, that is normal for our breed.”

  His son cocked his head to one side and lost his balance. Gabe reached out and scooped him up. Michael squealed in delight and bounced in his seir’s arms, seemingly speeding Gabe toward the bath.

  “Just a minute, Michael. We have to undress you first.”

  That was easier said than done. Michael was in perpetual motion, moving an arm or leg, just as Gabe reached for the fabric to maneuver a limb out, rolling while Gabe was trying to work fasteners.

  “How does your mother do this?” he inquired calmly. The warrior in him wanted to pin the squirming and flailing infant down and force his clothing off.

  Not the right answer, Gabe. Definitely not right.

  The tub had the prerequisite five or six inches of water for an infant bath in it long before Gabe lifted a very naked Michael to settle him inside. He stopped halfway at the sensation of the spreading wet spot on his shirt. A look of disbelief down at the tapering stream of urine later, Gabe scowled at his son, earning him a peel of laughter from the plump face.

  “You think I deserved that, do you?” Gabe cocked one eyebrow up. “Can I assume you’ve similarly christened your mother?”

  Michael clapped and reached for the water.

  “I see. I guess that’s all right then.” Maybe this was a rite of acceptance Gabe didn’t know about.

  Or maybe young ones have no control over releasing their bladders.

  He deposited Michael in the water and pulled his fouled shirt off, tossing it for the open hamper.

  His jeans were halfway off when Gabe looked down again. His heart stuttered, and he reached for Michael, then pulled up short. When he’d seen the young one lying back in the bathtub, he’d flashed on the training tapes he’d seen about drowning.

  “An infant can drown in less than two inches of water.”

  But Michael wasn’t drowning. He was floating on his back, his arms spread wide, his feet kicking lightly. Gabe placed a hand to cushion Michael’s head at the moment he would have hit the drain side of the tub.

  Michael looked up at him, smiled, and scrambled to sitting again. He took a faceful of water, sneezed, and rubbed his face with a pudgy little hand. A moment later, he patted the water and looked up at Gabe expectantly.

  “You’re right. I’m doing this wrong. Aren’t I?”

  Gabe peeled off his damp jeans, tossed them in the hamper, and climbed into the tub with Michael. He picked up a lightweight washcloth and the clove bath gel and started bathing his son. All the while, he hummed the Xxanian welcoming song.

  Chapter Three

  From her bedroom, Abby heard the bath water gushing down the pipe. Gabe would be coming out of the bathroom with Michael soon. Though their son’s baths were always amusing, she hadn’t wanted to intrude on Gabe’s time with Michael.

  He’s had little enough of it, and if he really wants nothing to do with me, he’s not going to see Michael nearly as much as either of us want him to.

  That bothered her. A lot. Abby paced the floor, her nerves jumping. If she had a larger apartment, she’d consider suggesting Gabe move in with them. Or she’d consider moving in with Gabe, if he offered, but neither of them had an apartment big enough for all of them.

  Assuming he’s in the same apartment I walked out of. She winced at that. For all she knew, Gabe had a new apartment and a steady girlfriend. He’d had seven months to find one, after all.

  No. I won’t think about that. Not right now.

  Who am I kidding? It was all she could think about. Had Gabe found someone else? Would he choose that relationship over one with her.

  Relationship? Now I know I’m demented. Gabe hadn’t given the slightest indication that he wanted anything but a relationship with Michael. Michael and answers.

  The door opened, and Gabe chatted his way to the nursery with Michael.

  That’s my cue. Abby let herself into the hall and ducked into the bathroom with the intentions of brushing her hair and teeth.

  The room smelled pleasantly of clove. That brought back potent memories of Gabe using his favorite clove bath gel on her while they had sex in the shower. Before she knew it, Abby was lost in daydreams of one of those times.

  Gabe’s touch was soft and knowing. He’d been her lover for well over two years. He knew how to arouse her, how to use the stinging clove to leave her shivering in pleasure.

  Abby had no clue which time this was. She didn’t care. If Gabe was with her, who cared which time it was?

  She took a handful of the clove gel and stroked it up and down his hard cock, smiling at his groan of pleasure. There was no question what would come next. Gabe would rinse his cock off and lift her over it.

  Gabe’s sound of surprise shocked her to reality, and Abby turned toward him.

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you were in here.” He stood in the doorway, wrapped in the informal S’suumea, a wet towel in his hand.

  Abby’s already aroused body weathered the blow badly. She wanted him. Now. And there’s no chance—

  Gabe let loose a growl and tossed the towel at the tub. She watched him cross the distance between them, shivering as she had in the daydream. He’d always been able to do this to her. One look, and she needed him buried inside her.

  He grasped her by the back of the skull with one hand and slanted his mouth across hers. Abby opened to him, starving for Gabe. Their tongues danced and darted and hands explored.

  Gabe dragged her against him, and Abby groaned at the length of his cock pressing to the meat of her belly. Her entire body trembled.

  She reached for the fold of silk that would release the S’suumea, and Gabe pulled away. Her heart ached at the tension in him.

  Abby took a step back. “Maybe I—”

  “Shhh.” Gabe cocked his head to one side and turned slightly.

  He’s listening to something. Abby did the same. It took a moment for her to lock on the sound he had, and she sighed in relief. “Don’t worry. That’s just the sound Michael makes when he’s settling to sleep.”

  “You’re sure?” There was an urgency to the question that offended her.
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  “Yes. I’m sure,” she snapped in return. Abby turned to the sink and pulled down her toothbrush and toothpaste. The fact that his taste was in her mouth annoyed her. How could he walk in and just expect—

  Gabe’s hands settled on her shoulders, and he massaged them. “I’m sorry. It’s new to me. Every sound. Every movement. I don’t know what they mean yet.”

  That mollified her somewhat, but Abby was still stung. “You’ll learn,” she offered simply. A line of toothpaste deposited on the brush, she set the open tube aside and started brushing her teeth.

  “Thank you for that.”

  “For what?” she grumbled around the brush.

  “For giving me the chance to learn.”

  “I never intended to exclude you. I just...” She sighed and went back to brushing her teeth, at a loss to explain it.

  “You just didn’t know how to include me after excluding me so long,” he whispered. “I do understand how hard that must have been. You’ve never been one that enjoyed confrontations.”

  Abby forced herself to spit in the sink when she wanted to sob, which would probably cause her to choke on the toothpaste. She rinsed the toothbrush, put it back in the holder, and rinsed her mouth with a handful of water.

  Gabe’s massage moved down her back. She considered telling him to stop, but some selfish corner of her mind missed this too much to follow through on the protest.

  Instead, she wet the washcloth hung next to the sink with hot water, squirted some liquid soap on it, and started scrubbing her face.

  “I could bathe you.” There was a wistful undertone to Gabe’s offer.

  Her errant body responded. Abby avoided looking at him in the mirror, and she scrubbed harder at her face. She rinsed the washcloth used it to remove the layer of soap from her forehead and cheeks.

  At the second rinse, Gabe spoke again. “You want it, but you aren’t saying so. I don’t know how to interpret that.” The massage stopped, and Gabe’s hands left her back, but he didn’t retreat.

  “You can interpret it that I have no clue what is happening between us. I hurt you before, and beyond not wanting to hurt you again, I don’t want to get hurt again.” It was blunt, all too true. After the day Abby had had, the last thing she wanted was to play games.

  When he didn’t immediately answer, she went back to rinsing her face. Gabe didn’t move again until she was done drying her face and hands on the towel hung between the sink and shower. She deposited it on the hook, and his hand closed around her wrist.

  His aroused body pressing to her back ripped a gasp from her throat. Gabe drew her arm around her stomach, his cradling it. His face nestled into her hair, and his answer caressed her ear.

  “Are you with someone else?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I don’t smell another man in your apartment, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

  Her emotions rioted. On some level, Abby felt certain she should be offended by the question, but she wasn’t. Even his possessive nature was endearing. “No. I’m not.” I haven’t been since you.

  “Neither am I. There hasn’t been more than the occasional one-night-stand for me since you left me.” He paused. “And damned few of those.”

  “Then you’ve had more than I have,” she quipped, stung that he’d slept with other women. Be reasonable. I left him. Was he supposed to wait for me forever?

  He growled, and she shivered in response.

  “If I asked you to mate with me—”

  Her heart stuttered. “You’re not asking.”

  Gabe took a step back and gently turned her to face him. “I’m telling you that the need to be with you is as powerful today as it ever was. I still...consider you my own. If you choose to let me, I will do my best to convince you to become my mate. If you don’t intend that... That would the way to hurt me, Abby.”

  “But we can’t,” she protested.

  He started to withdraw, his ridge plates fluctuating. She grasped his arms to stop him. Gabe had to understand what she was saying, and she was sure he didn’t understand at all.

  “You said mating takes three days, three days while we’re both useless for anything else,” Abby began.

  Gabe’s ridge plates retracted, but his expression was still sour. “What of it?”

  “Michael.”

  Gabe swung a calculating look toward the nursery, then focused on her again. “I don’t understand.”

  “Michael is nursing. We can’t just—”

  The smile curving his lips stole her ability to form words. “I didn’t mean we’d mate today, Abby...or even this week or month. Even with my family to watch over Michael, we wouldn’t want to interrupt his nursing. For one thing, the abrupt end to lactation would be agony for you.” He reached up and scooped her shoulder-length hair behind one ear.

  Responding to that was difficult. “So...when I stop nursing then?”

  “Is that a ‘yes’ to letting me try to convince you?” he teased.

  “I think that shower you offered sounds like a good start.”

  ****

  Gabe bit back a smile at her breathless answer. Something told him Abby wouldn’t appreciate it. He’d already irritated her once in the last five minutes. He wasn’t game for a repeat.

  Abby reached out and unfastened his S’suumea. She didn’t let it fall to the floor. Instead, she folded it carefully—surprisingly in the correct way—and set it on the back of the toilet.

  Taking his cue, Gabe slipped his hands beneath her nightshirt and worked it up her body. There were no panties beneath, and his cock jerked in pleasure at that fact. Her nipples were hard and swollen, practically begging for his hands.

  Not too avidly. Her milk has a ready customer.

  Speaking of which...”How long will Michael sleep?”

  Her breath left her in a rush. “Five or six hours, most probably. Maybe seven, since he’s just had a bath.”

  “Good.”

  Abby didn’t question that.

  Gabe removed her nightshirt and dropped it over his S’suumea. He tipped his head down and kissed her, turning the shower on and setting the temperature by feel.

  The kiss was hot and hard. Her body brushed against his, smelling of aroused woman and Xxan.

  Mine. My scent and my son’s.

  Abby had always fit Gabe as if she’d been crafted for him. She was tall for a woman, almost a full two meters of curves, making her a nice complement to his two point two meters. Her breasts were lush and heavy, even when they weren’t full of milk, and her body sheathed him perfectly.

  Perhaps not so nicely now. She has delivered a child.

  He pushed that thought away. Abby was his. She’d been his from the moment he first saw her at the college party in their senior year. Within an hour of that meeting, she’d been in his bed, sheathing him for the first time. And the second. Third. Even for an oversexed young Xxanian Dominant, that night had been excessive.

  No. Not excessive. Not nearly enough. That’s why he’d gone back to her, again and again. Even now, he couldn’t get enough of her.

  When he was sure the water had settled on a comfortable temperature, Gabe guided Abby beneath the spray. The scent of Abby and clove was enough to steal his sanity.

  Gabe forced himself to slow, to savor every touch as he massaged the clove gel into her skin and washed it away. There was no question where they were headed, no question they both wanted it to go this way.

  But not rushing there. Not like we did the first few times.

  He drank from her freshly washed skin, moaning at the fist closing in his hair.

  Abby jerked her hips up at the first stroke of clove oil over her core, and she gasped. He knew from experience that the stinging oil aroused her nearly as much as it would a Xxanian female.

  Or perhaps she is reacting to my touch. That thought settled in his cock, enflaming Gabe farther.

  As if in confirmation, Abby started grinding against his fingers, breathless little sounds escaping her li
ps.

  Not yet.

  Gabe hastened to rinse the clove oil away, and Abby tipped her head back, her eyes sliding closed.

  There was little question what she was hoping for, but Gabe wanted more than a rushed fuck in the shower. This woman was the Hauaa of his child, and she deserved a proper bathing.

  He settled on his knees between her spread legs and started to feast on clove-flavored arousal. Abby’s fingers tightened in his hair, drawing Gabe closer, asking with motions what she seemingly didn’t have the air to ask with words.

  Her sounds were sharp and her body’s nectar pungent and drugging. In moments, he was thrusting his tongue into her, using the pebbled surface to drink in as much of her scent as possible.

  Abby let loose with a shudder and a shout, her inner muscles clenching and releasing against his tongue. Gabe teased her with further strokes of his tongue and fingers, taking fierce pride in her responses. It was more than the instinctual delight in being able to sate a female you had a claim on speaking. It was the knowledge that he remained the only male that had made Abby shatter to his touch with such ease and precision.

  And I will remain so. There could be no question of it.

  ****

  The shift in Gabe was subtle but undeniable, and Abby’s heart rate ratcheted up a dozen beats a minute.

  The air of determination was hardly new to her. Gabe had been in similar moods many times over the years they were together as a couple. It always promised mind-altering pleasure in bed...or wherever they were making love that moment.

  She’d long ago dubbed the state of mind he was in ‘his Dominant side.’ Biologically, Gabe was always a Dominant Xxanian male. There was no mistaking that, even if one didn’t know the innate signs of Dominant males, as compared to Subdominant males. But this was über-Dominant, when Gabe’s nature was at its most base and potent edge.

  He spun the spigot closed and rose slowly, capturing water from her body on his rough tongue. The slight indentation in the tip caught on one nipple, and she gasped in response. Gabe responded by circling the nipple, taunting her with pleasure to come.