Page 45 of Not Ready

“Yeah, but I didn’t grow up in a wealthy pack. Hell, there was no guarantee that I’d even present.” She shrugs. “I do have a lot of omega impulses, but I’m used to being treated like a beta. And that’s not a bad thing. I’ve learned how to take care of myself, even when it’s kinda scary.”

“I really fucking hate that,” I admit, dropping her bags in the room instead of the closet. “Why don’t you grab some clothes for after your bath, and I’ll do the same.”

“I forgot I shoved your clothes that I slept in last night under my pillow when I got dressed. We can grab them together.” She grins.

My chest puffs up with pure alpha pride. In that case, I’ll grab that pillow and bring it with us.

“So, this bed is officially bigger than I knew existed,” Vale says as I come out of the bathroom, shirtless. Her eyes rake over my form, and I fight the urge to suck in. I’m a big guy, and I’ve got muscles for days. They’re just covered by a nice layer of cushiony softness. Fine, maybe I had one too many burgers on my last job, but stakeouts are boring as fuck.

I clear my throat, tossing a thumb back toward the bathroom. “The tub is ready.” I head over to her and offer my hands. “I kept it comfortable for me, since I know omegas are resilient to heat, and you said to keep it pretty mild.”

“Yeah,” she agrees as I pull her up. I guide her into the bathroom and bump the door closed with my hip.

I’ve got a plan, but I’m not sure how she’s going to feel about it. She turns to face me as steam fills the air. I really didn’t lie. I kept it mild, but the house is chilly. Maybe I should’ve turned up the heat.

“I was hoping you’d take a bath with me.” Damn, why does my voice sound extra gravelly?

She’s so goddamn beautiful staring up at me from behind her thick blonde lashes that my heart beats erratically. It feels like I’ve run a fucking marathon. Maybe I need to lay off the calories. I want to live a long and healthy life for her and the baby.

“That would require us to both be nude.” She squints up at me. “You stopped tuning in to my live shows ages ago, but I can assure you, my body?—”

“Enough.” I swat her luscious ass. “I can see the changes, and they’re not a bad thing. I’m going to have to start keeping a tally of how many times you talk down about yourself.” I quirk an eyebrow. “You won’t be pregnant forever, gorgeous.”

“I don’t know how I feel about spankings.” Her pretty blue eyes narrow.

I chuckle. “It’s a good thing I didn’t ask then, isn’t it?”

She scoffs, but she also visibly trembles. Her nipples poke through the fabric of her thin dress, and I lean down to help her out of it. I hit a knee and look up at her.

She nods. “Actually, just get rid of the panties first. There is no such thing as cute maternity underwear.”

I bark a laugh, moving my hands under the dress and sliding into the band of her panties.

My fucking god, her skin is soft.

The material pools at her feet, and she steps out of it. I toss the panties aside, near where I threw my shirt earlier, and stand slowly as I pull the dress off and dispose of it too. She still has her bra on, but I unhook it before she can stretch an arm back. It falls down her arms as my damn cock decides now would be an excellent time to perk up.

She shakes out of it and adds it to the pile of clothes. Her head tilts as she stares up at me, making it hard as shit to stay focused. I’m supposed to be pampering her. She’s spent far too much time on her own, just surviving. I need to keep her so fucking happy that she’d never think of leaving me, but I’m also really out of practice when it comes to being romantic.

Huh, maybe this is the first time I’ve ever really tried.

Damn, that doesn’t bode well for my success rate.

If you need something blown up, then I’m your man. I’m capable of breaking a neck with my bare hands—which isn’t as easy as the movies make it seem—but I can’t remember what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing to get the two of us into the bathtub.

“Here, let me help with this,” Vale whispers with a playful smile. Her cold hands dip into the waistband of my sweats, but she doesn’t stop there. She links her thumbs under the band of my boxers and shoves both down in one go. I kick out of them, gently tugging her arms.

“Let me help you get in, then I’ll get settled.”

“Okay,” she agrees, but she lets out a little squeak when I lift her with my hands under her armpits. She’s not heavy at all, and I move her over the edge of the tub. It’s got four head rests for your neck, that really qualify as shoulder padding, and a cushion in a weird semi-circle. It’s meant to fit four people, but I know from experience that I take up nearly one whole side. I put her feet down and keep a hold of her while she lowers into the seat.

Once she’s settled, I grab the towels from the sink counter and bring them over. Then I climb my big ass in, hoping the entire time that I don’t overflow the water. Luckily, the tub has sensors, and it lets out the extra water.

By the time I get situated, she’s stretched back with her hair laying over the edge and her eyes closed. I scoot down enough that she doesn’t even need to move as I grab her foot and start to massage.

“Okay, that’s heavenly,” she moans. Her tits float in the water. I purposely avoided adding any bath bombs or bubbles, because I didn’t know if those kinds of things are safe during pregnancy. I’m really going to need to take a few days and do some solid research.

I grab the body wash, lifting my knee and pulling her foot out of the water. I’d really like to get on to washing other parts of her, but it’s hard to tell exactly why I’m so feral. It’s likely because this has been years in the making.

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