Chapter Twenty-Two
Harrison
When Lucas came home to me—so much clarity broke through the haze of despair I’d been looking through.
I’d already decided that we would go with him. He was mine. End of story.
That didn’t make anything I said or did rational. I was a hot mess of emotions. I blamed the pregnancy for a lot of it, but far from all of it. I had somehow managed to let this man fully into my heart, and just the thought he might not want to be there broke me.
But my fears were for naught.
He wanted me.
All of me.
He wanted pregnant crazy me, bearded woodworker me, pop culture-unaware me, and Mapleville resident me. He chose me—us—and turned down the television show without hesitation.
I asked him numerous times if he would regret it, and he reassured me the only thing he would regret would be forcing me to leave the place I loved, the place that held my roots, to chase a dream that was no longer his. He already had Warren working on buying the restaurant, the one he wanted to make a real restaurant where people from town would come, eat, and socialize, one where he could cook the things he loved and not be worried about the next big thing. The one that was close to his family. To us.
And that was why I kept waking up. I wanted to tell him all about the surprise wedding, but each time I got up, he was sleeping so peacefully I didn’t have the heart to wake him, and then of course I had to pee by the third time I woke. Go, baby on the bladder, which led to a snack then tea then my mouth around his cock. So things had turned out well.
“Harrison,” Lucas groaned my name as I swallowed around him.
“Hmmm, mmm?” I mumbled, never letting his cock leave my mouth, peeking up at him from under my hooded lids.
“What are you doing?” he asked, knowing darn well what I was doing. I just gave him a look and continued with my ministrations. “What I mean”—his hand fell to my head, grasping my hair in just the way I liked—“is I won’t be able to knot you.”
And just like that, he won. He’d been so nervous about my being so far along and pregnant that he was into all things not knotting lately, and while I loved a good blow job and some frotting just as much as the next guy, I longed for his knot. Silly alpha had read that sex helped jumpstart labor and was sure he’d bring the baby too soon. Now was not too soon, though, and even if it was, that was an old wives’ tale, and we needed this.
Badly.
“Come up here, Harrison,” he pleaded and I crawled up to him. “I missed you so much. Kiss me.”
He didn’t have to ask me twice. I pushed all of my emotions into that kiss, needing him to know exactly how I felt about him—about us. He was mine. And while I was glad we would be building our life in Mapleville, I’d have followed him to the ends of the Earth if that was what he needed.
That realization was what told me he was my always, or at least solidified what I already knew in my gut. I loved Mapleville, the place, the people, the culture, but not as much as I loved Lucas. Lucas was my future and my home. The rest was all just noise.
His hand reached down and he broke our kiss with a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I asked once I caught my breath.
“Our precious baby just kicked my hand away from your cock.” Of course she did.
I just shook my head, laughing as well.
“What do you think? Grounding?” I asked.
“No playdates for at least two weeks,” Lucas spoke firmly, waggling his finger at my belly.
“Is that a real thing? Playdates? I assumed it was a joke.”
“Nope. Real,” he insisted, and who was I to argue. I was ready for us to get back to business.
“So, I’m huge.”
“You’re growing a human.” He completely missed my point.
I wouldn’t change an inch of my girth. Each and every ounce I’d gained was to provide for our child. Each stretch mark a sign my body was changing to make her comfortable and safe. No, I liked me as I was.
“Not my point. My point is, I’m bigger than the last time you gave me your knot, and I’m wondering how best to do this.” Because there was no way I could manage to be on my hands and knees with my belly like this, and no way he could get things where they needed to be in missionary position.
“You’re thinking too hard.” He tapped my nose with a wink of mischief. “Let it happen.”
“Says Mr. Always Prepared.” And that was when the glimmer in his eye caught me. He was prepared. Why did I think he’d be anything but? I arched my eyebrow at him.
“Fine,” he sighed with fake exasperation. “By let it happen, I mean I googled this.”
“How romantic.” I reached down, finding his cock with my fingers, barely able to reach it, thanks to my belly in the way. “Now, do me.”
“The romance is flowing tonight.” He chuckled before kissing me soundly and leaving me breathless. “So, over on your side.” He helped me roll so I faced away from him, and I would’ve whimpered about it if he hadn’t snuggled up next to me immediately, his erection settling against my ass. “Like that,” he praised.
“I like where this is going—”
His hand wrapped around my cock, giving it a couple of good pumps before tracing the tip with his finger.
“I like where this is at,” I corrected.
“Oh my. Your poor cock is so hard,” he sassed. I liked him all playful like this. “I think you need to come.”
Yes. Yes I did.
“And I will when you knot me.”
“Impatient omega.” He tsked, not slowing his attention on my erection any.
“It’s been weeks.” It came out as a moan, thanks to the change in pressure of his hand. Damn, he knew what he was doing.
“Two,” he corrected. “It’s been two weeks and not a day between orgasms except when I was away.”
That part was true. He made sure I came and I him. But there was something intimate about knotting that we couldn’t quite manage any other way, as enjoyable as those ways were.
“Which you should never do again,” I said, referring to his recent trip.
“Agreed.” His hand left my cock, finding my slick hole. He teased my entrance before slipping one finger inside. “Oh my, aren’t you ready for me.”
“Always.”
He rocked into me slowly, holding me close to him as we moved in sync, bringing each of us to the brink in a leisurely and loving manner. It was more than just knotting, more than just making love even, it was reconnecting while forging new connections under our now crystal-clear agreement that we were more than just a couple, more than just a convenience marriage, we were each other’s home.
As he knotted me and I came, the words that summed it all up flooded out of our mouths simultaneously. “I love you.”
What more could two men want than that? To love and be loved was really all life was about. And later in the day, we were going to profess our love to everyone who meant the most to us. Or, at least, that was the theory. I’d never thrown a surprise wedding before.