When She Needs Them Most
: Chapter 14

Sometimes I wonder what the benefit is of being genius-level intelligent if I have to dumb myself down to fit in with societal expectations. I’ve already scanned the marketplaces where for-hire contracts are placed. Two teams are available that would meet my criteria for taking out Emmett Raynor. One of the two would be qualified to take down the bookie’s entire operation, so that way, we wouldn’t need to worry about him getting any bright ideas about following Chelsea’s trail.

When Arden catches me looking for contract killers, he buries me in so much mundane work that I briefly consider murdering him. Unfortunately, he’s very good at keeping himself alive. Most days, that’s a good thing, but he’s on my last nerve today.

No part of me wants to be stuck in the office. Chelsea is probably snuggled up with Lincoln right this moment.

I want to be the little spoon.

Or the big spoon.

I’m willing to be flexible.

My fingers slam against my keyboard as I handle the bullshit tasks Arden gave me as busywork. The only positive thing is, I find an audiobook tailored to dads that I mindlessly memorize while I bust out menial task after menial task. Chelsea is already in the third trimester, so I skip all the useless beginning chapters and focus on the stuff we’ll need to know moving forward.

Only the narrator talks exceptionally slowly, so I jack the speed up to 2.20 to help my system stay focused. After this one is finished, I’m going to do a little research and see if I can find one specifically for omegas.

My phone buzzes with a text, and I pause the audiobook. It’s likely my sister, continuing her mission to give me tips about how to pretend to be normal. There were a few earlier about how to seem less creepy.

Only, it’s not Cordelia but Linc, telling me to call Joyce’s baby store to pay for the multitude of shit he ordered but couldn’t get caught paying for.

That seems like a dangerous game to play with how skittish Chelsea already is, but according to my research, she’s at the stage where babies can come at any time.

My jaw hits my chest when Joyce politely informs me the total with the friends and family discount is just shy of six thousand dollars.

What the hell did he buy?

Not that it matters.

It does make it easier to understand why Chelsea would be uncomfortable with that level of a gift. However, I’m sure it’s all necessities, and it even includes delivery, so that’s a relief.

Only, I might be losing my shit, because my train of thought goes to a dark place as I start to wonder if Linc is going to try to claim all that stuff as his courting gifts, instead of our courting gifts.

I recall the list Joyce gave over the phone. It was all furniture, so I pull up several essential item lists for newborns and proceed to buy…all of it.

Things like diapers, clothes, burp rags, and sheets, I snag multiples until the website tells me I have the maximum number of items that can be checked out in a single cart.

Frowning, I pay for that and switch over to another retailer. Having an item limit doesn’t seem like a great way to meet your customer’s needs. I make a mental note to send them a complaint later when I have time. For now, I go a little crazy grabbing everything that’s highly rated. Once I’m done, I check that cart out too and peek at Arden’s office door.

He’s on a conference call with one of the cops who barely bothered investigating Chelsea’s case.

My head tilts.

We drove separately.

Very quietly closing my laptop, I shut down my desktop computer and shove my laptop in my man bag. Lincoln loves to call it my purse, and I’m fine with that. A wallet doesn’t cut it when I need access to my laptop at all times.

I’m the most covert of all covert agents as I sneak out of the office, locking both doors behind me.

It’s time to check on Chelsea.

The GPS app says Linc is by the pond down the street from our house. The house security system was disarmed and rearmed fourteen minutes later. I’m betting that means Chelsea is at our house, and Linc took Sky out for a run. It’s unusual that he would reset the system if he’s just out for a jog.

Letting myself in through the garage door, I disarm and reset the system. On the way through the kitchen, I set my bag on the table and go searching.

Chelsea’s door is closed, but I don’t knock. I’ll ask for forgiveness rather than permission in this case.

The little omega is snoozing on the bed with her dark blonde hair falling all over her pretty face. She’s right in the middle of the queen-size mattress, so I could climb behind her, but I’d have to start at the bottom because the mattress is pushed into the corner of the room. She’s facing toward the door as she sleeps, so I can either face her or I could face the door and scoot back until I’m the little spoon.

Little spoon, it is.

Kicking off my shoes, I make my way across the room. I tug off my long-sleeve T-shirt, tossing it aside, and handle my belt as quietly as possible. I would lose the jeans, too, because they’re annoying as hell to try to sleep in, but I don’t want to risk making her uncomfortable. Climbing onto the edge of the mattress is a slow process as I cover us up and wiggle backward until I hit her knees.

We’re basically sharing half of a queen-size bed, but I don’t mind. It makes snuggling a necessity. My hand stretches back until I find hers resting on her thigh. Giving it a gentle tug, I wrap her arm over mine and intertwine our fingers.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I fall somewhere on the ACE spectrum, but I’ve never cared to assign myself a specific label describing where I fall on that spectrum. It changes occasionally, anyway. I consider myself mostly sex ambivalent, but thinking about Chelsea, I find myself leaning slightly more toward sex favorable.

Although, there’s no guarantee how long that will last.

I’m much more likely to crave physical affection and comfort than the act of sex itself, and Lincoln has never made a fuss if I crawl onto the couch to ask for a cuddle. He’s actually the first person who suggested I might want to do a little research about asexuality.

And I have, but I seem to ebb and flow in and out of each description I’ve studied. I’ve had periods during my life when I considered acting on sexual desire. I’ve just never worked up the level of commitment necessary to follow through.

Women are beautiful and smart and ridiculously intimidating.

That’s a whole lot of pressure to manage, but that’s the thing…

I want Chelsea to want me.

Arden may view our jobs as too dangerous to risk bonding an omega or having a family, but I want children. I always assumed I’d rely on one of my packmates to do the consummation part, while I focused on snuggles and emotional support, but Chelsea comes with a built-in future already in her stomach.

And the thought doesn’t scare me at all. There’s no doubt in my mind that I would be a good dad. All three of us would be, and with how drawn to Chelsea we are, we just need to declare our intent to court her.

Then maybe persuade her to like us. Oh, and convince her to not be terrified when she finds out about the other half of what makes up our job.

My nose twitches with Chelsea’s sugary sweet scent. It’s everywhere and way more potent than normal. There’s an enticing under layer that appeals to my system on some baser level I’ve never experienced. We relocated while we slept, and Chelsea’s head now rests on my bare chest. The baby belly lies half on my stomach and half on the bed, with her thigh tossed over my pelvis.

It’s a very intimate position, made even more precarious by the way her thigh brushes my hard cock. Several additional seconds pass as I try to determine how I feel about this new development. It’s not unpleasant. If anything, the friction is enjoyable…like when I jerk off.

She seems to be asleep, and that could be lessening the pressure.

Performance anxiety is no fucking joke. A low groan escapes Chelsea’s lips, vibrating against my chest as she jolts. My hand tightens on her lower back to keep her in place, and I bring the other to her chin.

Her skin scalds mine, and my jaw falls. Her big blue eyes are red and glassy, and it only ratchets my panic higher.

“Hi,” she says, licking her lips.

“God, Chelsea, you’re burning up. Are you okay?” I tease a finger over her pink cheek.

She uses her arm to push up a little as she leans over me. My heart pounds at the weight of her breasts pushing against my chest.

“I don’t know.” Her free hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Nutty blueberries…” The rest disappears into a whine as she marks my cheeks one by one.

I’m so busy trying to figure out what the whine means that I end up palming her head while her nose buries in my throat. Warm flicks of her tongue over my skin make my dick jolt against the baby belly.

I think that’s what it is, anyway. It’s impossible to focus with how heavy her pheromones are in the air. She moves more on top of me, but I don’t mind.

A gasping breath escapes her lips, and the warm air puffing over my skin makes me shiver.

“I’m not in heat,” she mumbles, nipping at my earlobe. “Right? No, that’s impossible, but God, Kase. I’m so hot, like the burning alive feeling that comes in the days right before I go into heat.” She grinds her hips, and my hand flattens on her back.

Chelsea kisses up my jaw and over my cheek before pushing her lips to mine. I growl, locking my muscles tight to keep from rolling her. My instincts are screaming to cage her in, so she can’t escape, and then I’m supposed to…

Her soft, wet tongue teases between my lips, and all rational thought disappears.

My hand slides down from her lower back to squeeze her ass. Her dress is soaked with sweat, and her scent is so potent, it’s trying to convince my system that she’s an omega in heat.

She pulls back, running her fingers through my stubble. “Is this okay?”

I nod dramatically, and our noses brush. “Yeah, but I don’t know what this is. I mean, not exactly, but I’m willing to see where things go.”

“God, you’re so sexy, it’s making my brain melty. My instincts are screaming at me to present.” She doesn’t.

What she does is capture my mouth again in a slow, teasing kiss that makes my dick ache. My hands palm her ass, pulling her down over my throbbing length. The material makes it a pain in the ass.

I knew I should have lost the jeans.

The way Chelsea’s nails dig into the side of my neck as she kisses me senseless only seems to amp up every sensation. I’m here for her taking the lead. All she has to do is tell me what she needs, and I’ll do my best.

She pulls back, groaning as she clutches at her middle.

“Tell me what to do?” I plead, trying to remember where my phone is.

Maybe I should call an ambulance?

She’s not in labor or something, right?

Chelsea wiggles her hips and grabs the hem of her dress. She tugs at it, but it’s stuck under her ass, so I help her get it up. She continues to pull it off over her head as my hands slide up her sides.

My thumbs brush her stomach.

Her skin is soft, but her belly is hard. It’s a wild combination.

My hand is large enough that, thumb to pinkie, I can practically wrap it around her protruding belly, and I tease over the baby with no shame. I’m fascinated by the fact that she’s growing a human being. My only regret is not being able to see every stage along the way.

Chelsea uses my distraction to get herself out of her bra. Her heavy tits bounce, and I sit up, wrapping my forearm around her lower back.

Her sugar cookies and vanilla scent is about to do my fucking head in. A low growl rattles out as I capture her puffy lips.

This is bad.

Mount. Rut. Breed. Claim.

It’s the danger zone they warn alphas about. And my brain is fully stuck in the loop. The audiobook I listened to this afternoon did say sex was fine, even into the third trimester, and as long as she has no complications, it might be fine right up until she gives birth.

I nip at her lip, focusing just enough that I don’t let myself break the skin. Chelsea pushes up on her knees, pulls her panties down, and kicks them off. It shoves her tits against my chest, and between that and the frantic kiss, I don’t know what to focus on.

Her warm hands brush my lower stomach as she works my button and zipper.

I abandon holding the back of her head and her hip to push down my jeans and boxer briefs. My cock bounces around her ass, and with a little shimmying of her hips, she redirects it between us.

There’s no telling when I closed my eyes, but they pop open and everything except Chelsea’s beautiful face is hazy.

I’ve never experienced anything like it, but I have tunnel vision on her.

Her lips.

Her scent.

The warmth of her skin brushing my chest as she wiggles.

How her slick core feels gliding over the underside of my cock.

Chelsea gasps, and her forehead comes to rest against my shoulder. Slick drips all over my shaft and pelvis, and I still have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.

Her face rolls around my skin as she whimpers, and I feel helpless.

“This is so bad. I’m so sorry. All you wanted was a nap…” She whines. The sound is distinct to omegas, and it only comes when they’re begging or in distress.

It’s not something that an alpha can ignore, but I wouldn’t want to, even if I could.

“What I wanted was to be with you.” My hand slides into her hair at the base of her skull, and I tug her until I can study her face. Her eyes are clenched closed, but she bites her lip, grinding with more pressure when I pull her hair. Well, at least my instincts know what she needs, even if I don’t. “I don’t have condoms, but we have medical clearance after every big assignment. I wouldn’t put you or the baby’s health at risk.”

“They tested me when I got pregnant too.” She tugs against my hold in her hair, and her eyes pop open. “My eyes are burning. If this is anything like a normal heat, being knotted will lower my fever.”

“I haven’t done this before,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “But I want to.”

Her head tilts, but I fist her hair, pulling her mouth to mine.

The way her nails dig into my shoulder as she reaches between us with the other hand makes my skin sizzle. She slides her thumb around my crown, and our tongues clash.

There are all sorts of things I’m supposed to do to get her ready for sex, but I think we’re skipping those this time. Not that I would mind. I’d love to bury my entire face in her pussy and give it my best shot, but her skin is still so hot.

The baby.

Omegas are built for temperature spikes. I have no way of knowing if that applies to the baby or not.

Chelsea bites my tongue hard as she pushes up enough to guide my tip between her drenched lower lips. My forearm wraps around her back, and my hand cradles her hip from behind to distract myself from the overpowering urge to bite her back.

She sinks down my length, lowering on her knees.

I freeze.

She’s so tight, it’s almost painful, and the fact she’s burning up doesn’t help. She’s also soaked to the point slick drips down my shaft. Her tongue flicks over the nick she made on mine when she bit me, and she rises and falls again.

Sugar cookies and vanilla.

Her scent is everywhere.

I bring my other hand to cradle her skull, and I don’t have the first clue when I released her hair, but I take over the kiss.

Her tight nipples rake down my chest, and she falls with more force on each stroke.

“You. Are. So. Hard,” she says between kisses.

All I can do is nod, because… Yeah.

“I need more,” she begs, digging her fingers into my neck.

I use my forearm in the indent above her ass to shove her down and wrap my hand around her ass cheek to yank her back up. She pulls away from the kiss, and her face ends up in the crook of my neck as she melts against me. The baby belly bumps my stomach, and I do my best to stretch back.

No weight on the baby.

She grinds against my pelvis, and even though my cock isn’t fully seated inside her, I’m pretty sure she’s about to come. That’s just a guess, based on how her inner walls spasm and the amount of slick that gushes as she wails.

The pressure gets so extreme that there’s no hope of holding back my orgasm. Instead of bouncing, she grinds, and my balls get tight. Pleasure washes through every nerve-ending in my system, and I freeze, unable to do anything except hold her to me for dear life.