“I am.” Felix rubs his eyes. He slips past Kade to the door, stifling his yawn. “I just...”
Kade steps up behind him, a sturdy heat. His arms whisper around Felix’s waist, pulling him gently back against his chest. Felix’s eyes snap open. They shouldn’t be hugging. He isn’t prepared for this. Neither is he prepared for Kade’s lips brushing down his neck. His heart pounds, and he wants more.
Kade slides one hand up his chest, rubbing his nipples through his shirt. His other hand drags down Felix’s abdomen, cradling him. Felix’s stomach drops. He thinks, Do you already know? but Kade’s fingers brush down to his groin, and cup him through his pants.
Felix moans. Kade kneads him slowly, working him, and maybe Felix shouldn’t be hard already. He can’t help it. Kade plays his body like a familiar instrument, unzipping his pants, teasing his cock out. He sucks lightly on the scent gland at Felix’s neck, and pleasure jolts down his spine.
Kade pulls slow and firm on his cock, massaging him until he throbs with need. Then he relaxes his touch, fingers circling loosely around Felix.
Felix snaps his hips forward, shoving into his hand, tension humming through his body. It feels wrong to plead right now, when Kade hasn’t said a word, so he thrusts forward, then grinds back, his pulse thumping when he feels Kade hard in his pants. So Felix pushes up against his alpha, and Kade’s breath hitches.
But Kade doesn’t touch himself. It feels wrong that he isn’t, because isn’t this just about pleasure? He’s expecting something after, isn’t he? He tightens his grip around Felix, stroking steadily with precum-slick fingers. Felix tenses, pulsing with need.
Kade kisses his shoulder, cupping his other hand in front of Felix’s cock. Felix hears Come for me above Kade’s ragged breathing. Kade’s teeth graze lightly against his scent gland, a firm, light pressure, and Felix comes, shuddering, pleasure surging through his body as he spills into Kade’s palm.
Kade groans, milking him dry, before he brings his hand up and licks Felix’s cum off his skin. Felix shivers, panting. Kade presses a damp kiss to his nape.
Before Felix can offer to return the favor, Kade growls, “I’ll see you around.”
He slips out the door, shutting it quietly behind himself.
What just happened? Felix staggers forward, leaning onto the door for support. What could Kade have gotten out of that, just touching him? Why didn’t he want to stay? They aren’t lovers anymore, but Felix is more than willing to touch him in return.
Don’t go, he wants to say. The bike roars outside, and he imagines Kade backing out the driveway, his eyes hidden behind his helmet. His laptop is still in the kitchen. Felix is certain he’ll be back for it.
And no matter how many times Kade returns after this, Felix will be willing to spread for him, every time.
12
Kade
20 Years Ago
The first time Kade meets Felix, he’s running late for art class.
He dashes into the classroom after splitting his lunch with his brothers, because they’d gone and lost theirs somewhere. And they’d almost spilled his lunchbox, too. So Kade dashes through the door three minutes after the bell clangs, hoping the art teacher isn’t there yet.
“Sit down,” Mrs. Penny says, frowning over the rim of her glasses. Kade scowls. Not his fault his brothers argued over his lunch.
All the seats are filled except one, at a table where a skinny blond boy is picking out pencils from a case. Kade drops into the chair next to his, blowing a sigh. He hates art class. Nothing he draws ever turns out decent.
“What’s wrong?” the boy asks, looking over.
Sheets of blank paper cover his desk, and the pencils roll across them, all sharpened, their paint coating unchewed. Kade’s never seen anyone with cared-for pencils like that. The boy smiles shyly.
“I guess you need some paper, too.” He slides a large sheet over, but not the pencils.
Kade stares down at the paper, still panting. Maybe he should’ve gotten here earlier. This blond kid isn’t so bad. “What’re we supposed to draw?”
The boy looks up at the chalkboard, where Mrs. Penny has written Garden in cursive letters. “Plants, I guess. What’s your garden like?”
“My mom has a huge one,” Kade says. “She likes the roses and the tulips most, but it’s so hot in the summer that the tulips always wilt. She makes me dig them up. Bah.”
The boy giggles. “It must be fun to dig up plants! I can’t touch mine. The gardeners take care of our gardens, so they always look like the parks.”
Kade shrugs. He only looks at flowers when his mom points them out to him. What sort of family can afford gardeners? “What’s your name?”
“Felix.” The boy picks up a pencil, tracing faint curves over the sheet. “What’s yours?”
“Kade.” He pulls his pencil case out of his bag, picking out a chewed, blunt pencil. “I don’t like drawing. It’s stupid.”
Felix shrugs. “It’s fun.”
Kade tries to draw the roses along the front of his house, but they turn out looking like lumps of coal. He erases the drawing, scowling when the eraser leaves smudges of black across his paper. “Screw this.”
His desk-mate looks over. “Here, why don’t you use mine?”
He hands Kade a pink square, his own sheet covered in flower-dotted bushes, rocky paths, and a sky full of puffy clouds. Kade gapes. In the same time Felix took to sketch that, he had only drawn three flowers. “You just drew that... that garden.”
Felix tilts his head. “Yes, I did.”
“How?” The only other person who draws that well is Kade’s mom, and she has some old sketches of horses and whales hanging on the walls at home. “That’s really good.”
A wave of red sweeps up Felix’s cheeks. “Oh. Well, I practiced. It’s the only thing I’m good at. At least, that’s what my father says.”
He’s pretty, Kade thinks, staring at the forest-green of his eyes, the curve of his lips. “I’m good at lots of things,” he says. “I’ve been helping my dad fix the computers at his work. They have ten of them there!”
“Wow.” Felix’s eyes grow round. “I’m not so good with computers. You must be clever.”
Kade puffs his chest out. “‘Course I am. I’ve been getting full marks on my tests. And my mom says I’m learning a lot.”
Felix smiles, then looks down at his drawing. “I wish my father would say that. My brother’s better at everything, and Father transferred him to a different school so he can learn faster.”
Kade didn’t know people learned at different speeds in other schools. He shrugs, leaning in to nudge Felix. “Well, you can come join me in the playground. I build my castles there in the mornings.”
Felix brightens, his eyes shining. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Kade says. “I need help building sandcastles. My dad says we gotta dream big. So I’m gonna dig holes into the playground and build all the things.”
Felix giggles, and Kade grins along with him. “Okay.”
13
Felix
Present Day
Felix steps out of the employee washroom, wincing. Two months since the lemonade stand, and the morning sickness hasn’t abated. He sniffs at his work shirt, trying to decide if the faint sour tang comes from the dregs of scents in his nose, or if his shirt really does smell like puke.
I guess that’s what pregnancy and child-raising is. Puke and more puke.
The store is blissfully empty, and he finds Susan behind the counter, her eyes narrowed. “Please tell me he knows,” she says.
Felix winces. His morning sickness rears its head during his morning shift sometimes, while Susan is around, and it’s painfully obvious when he’s been dashing to the bathroom with no warning at all. “You noticed?”
“I guessed it the second week in,” she says, moving over when he rounds the counter. Felix cringes. “It’s just painful watching you talk to him when you guys are, like, two-hundred percent smitten.”
“We’re not.” Felix glances down at his baggy shirt, to convince himself that the little bump of his abdomen isn’t obvious. “I mean, we see each other occasionally. Like once every two weeks.”
By “see”, he really means “fuck”, when Kade drops by his place to check on his website, and he ends up bending Felix over on the kitchen counters, sliding home. Felix cuts that thought off, in case it shows in his pants. Kade still hasn’t taken his laptop back.
“And right after that, you come back here smelling like him. I mean, you smell like alpha, not omega. Do you know how weird that is?” Susan lifts her eyebrows. “I mean, you don’t even look like an alpha—you’re kind of slender. Narrow shoulders, pretty. Of course, Rick comes in and sniffs, and I try not to laugh at his expression when he smells you.”
Felix winces, glancing around the shop and out the door. No manager. “He’s nasty.”
“Not the biggest jerk in Meadowfall, but a jerk anyway.” Susan chuckles, but her smile fades. She pulls the store inventory off a shelf, flipping through it. “But back to your secret.”
He groans. “Can we not talk about it?”
“You’re going to have to. How long are you staying here?”
Felix bites his lip, counting the funds he’s been setting aside. “Maybe another three months. More than that, and it’ll be obvious. I guess I’ll borrow off my brother if I really have to.”
Susan shakes her head. “You’re really not telling Kade?”
“I can’t! I—Well, he won’t be interested.” He frowns when Susan rolls her eyes. She doesn’t know all his other reasons. “He didn’t consent to a child, so...”
“Oh, Felix. That’s not how it goes.” Susan drapes her arm around his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Having a family is all about support. And I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you’re expecting.”
“Oh gods, please don’t mention it in front of him,” Felix says, cringing. “He really can’t find out.”
Susan cocks her head. “It’s not his?”
Felix wants to laugh. He hasn’t slept with anyone else in a while. “It’s mine.”
“Still.”
“Promise you aren’t going to tell,” he says, sticking his pinky out. “Please. No mentions of babies or anything in front of him. Nothing about puking.”
Susan stares warily at his finger. “He really should know.”
“No, he really shouldn’t.”
She sighs, linking their fingers together. “Fine. But if he explodes, and I mean in a bad way, I’m saying it’s your fault.”
“Yeah, everything is my fault.”Felix snorts. That’s probably what Kade thinks, too.
An engine roars outside the store, the sound muffled by the glass doors. They look up at the same time. Felix’s stomach flops. It’s not Kade, is it? “Quick,” he hisses. “Do I smell like puke?”
Susan sighs. Her nostrils flare, though, and she shakes her head. “You’re good.”
Felix nods, gulping some water. He grabs the delivery roster to keep busy, and Susan flips through the inventory, stepping away from the counter. Felix’s neck prickles. He looks up, and he recognizes those broad shoulders through the glass doors, that leather jacket.
The doors trundle open. Kade steps in, looking him over, his gaze hot. Just like that, Felix is hard. He shouldn’t be affected this easily. But he shouldn’t be pregnant, either. And even though he’s been seeing Kade for the past three months, his pulse still races at the sight of his alpha, those mahogany eyes sliding down his chest, to his hips.
The corners of Kade’s mouth quirk up, and he meets Felix’s eyes. “Hello,” Felix says, breathless. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Oh, jeez,” Susan mutters. She steps away from the counter, weaving through the shelves to the back of the store. Abandoning him. Felix makes a face at her back.
“Hey,” Kade says. His voice rumbles down Felix’s spine, and Felix’s pants strain tight around his hips. Kade steps closer to the counter. “Sorry. Had to work on the bike for a bit.”
“You should be at work,” Felix says. “It’s kind of early, isn’t it?”
Kade shrugs. “Didn’t have to go in today. Just dropping by for a project meeting.”
“How is work?”
“Not bad.” Kade studies him, and it feels as though he can read all of Felix’s secrets in one glance. “I’ll drop by to help with your website this weekend. That okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Felix says, even though they both know it means they’ll look at the site for half an hour, and Felix will be spreading for him twenty minutes later. Things have gone that way ever since the lemonade stand. Felix has no complaints about it. How can he, really, if his alpha has been fucking him delirious?
Behind the shelves, Susan coughs. Kade’s gaze lingers on Felix.
He squirms to ease the discomfort of his pants. It doesn’t help, so he reaches down, and Kade watches him nudge his erection sideways. Felix’s throat runs dry. “I mean, the site isn’t drawing a lot of traffic yet. It did get more clicks after we tried selling cookies, so we should try that again. Perhaps in a better neighborhood.”
“Or even Highton?”
“Actually, that sounds good. Just to revive the business there.” Felix tries smiling, and Kade returns it. Felix’s pulse flutters.
“I’ve got a favor to ask, actually,” Kade says a moment later.
Felix blinks. What could Kade possibly want from him, that he doesn’t already have? “Really?”
“Yeah. Do you still have that watercolor of the bay?” Kade holds his gaze. “I think my dad really liked that one. I showed him a picture of it once. Not sure if I told you.”
Felix bites his lip. He remembers the painting vaguely, a waterscape with a boardwalk outside a restaurant. Maybe he brought it along when he moved. “I’ll look for it when I go home.”
“Thanks.”
Felix grins. “So are you buying anything, or did you just stop by to ask that?”
“Pump eight. Five gallons of middle-grade gas.”
“Fourteen fifty-six.”
Kade hands the cash over in notes and coins, his fingers brushing over Felix’s palm. Felix breathes in deep just to catch his pine-and-cedar scent, and Kade brushes their wrists together, marking him. Felix blushes. Maybe he should question why Kade keeps scenting him, but Kade has also promised his protection. That has to be the only reason why Felix smells like his alpha.
He ignores the lump in his throat, tapping the keys to approve the transaction, before dropping the coins into the register. The register cranks out a receipt. Felix hands it over with Kade’s change, unable to stop himself from touching Kade’s fingers again.
“See you,” Kade says, his eyes dark.
“See you,” Felix answers, but he wishes Kade were staying longer, wishes he could burrow into Kade’s arms. The weekend seems like a month away. To the baby, he thinks, Your other dad is the most gorgeous man.
Kade steps out of the store, and Felix wants to be right next to him, Kade’s smile a promise for the future.
14
Felix
Two days later, Felix steps off a bus and follows the winding, orange-lit sidewalks up to his father’s mansion.
He glances down at his phone. I’d rather be at the gas station. But it’s not as though I can find the painting anywhere else. He wishes Taylor was with him. Taylor talks to their father and charms his attention away from Felix, but Taylor has gone dark again. Felix shivers in the cool breeze.
The things I do because of you, Kade.
Felix quells the uneasiness in his stomach as he walks up to the wrought-iron gates, nodding at the guards. They nod back and heave at the tall gates open, and they open like a giant’s maw ready to swallow him down. He grits his teeth and steps in.
No one greets him along the ascending driveway, or at the towering front doors. Felix twists his key in the lock, holds his breath, and pushes the door open.
Inside, the marble-lined foye
r stretches out before him, exquisite spotlights reflecting in their surfaces. Felix shuts the door softly behind him, listening to the quiet footfalls of the servants in the other hallways, the clink of dishes in the far-off kitchen. He takes the stairs on the right, treading on ivory carpets to mask his footsteps, and his heart thunders in his chest.
At the top of the stairs, he turns down a long corridor, following the carpet past carved wooden doors, the high ceilings arching over him. It feels like he’s stepping through a hotel, almost, even though he lived here for the first twenty years of his life. He’d moved out and shared a home with Kade for five years—
“Sir,” a voice says at his shoulder. Felix’s heart slams into his chest. He jumps, guilt prickling his skin. He shouldn’t be sneaking like a thief through his childhood home.
“James,” he says, wheezing. The butler by his side smells like hay, calm eyes studying him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“A good butler is never heard,” James says, his mouth curving into a kindly smile. “Might you be looking for your father?”
“Actually, no. I was just back for a painting. Do you... know where my father is?” Felix relaxes his face like the thousand times he’s seen his father grin for cameras, but he’s certain that James can read beneath his smile, anyway.
“He has retired to his study for the night. I believe he has a meeting with the council tomorrow.”
Which means he’ll be occupied, not coming out to judge Felix. Felix sighs. “Thank you.”
James nods, turning down the next hallway. Felix pads through more corridors, gaze darting to the closed doors for the slightest sign of movement. He relaxes slightly when he turns into the west wing, where he and his brother had rooms on opposite sides of the hallway, and they’d wait until the lights were off, before tapping on each other’s doors.
The Omega's Secret Pregnancy (Men of Meadowfall Book 1) Page 10
