Page 21 of A Home for His Omega

Tomás rolled him onto the pillows and braced himself above him. “Good. This is my favorite part.” Tomás held his gaze and slowly pushed into him.

Henry lost all ability to speak. Long, smooth strokes in and out of his ass took up all his attention until Tomás leaned down and kissed him again.

I really do love him, Henry thought, losing himself to the feel of their bodies moving together as Tomás wrapped him in his arms. He’d never felt so close to someone before and maybe he should have been afraid. It was Tomás, though. Henry would trust the alpha with his life.

Tomás hit just the right spot and Henry’s thoughts scattered as he lost it, calling out his alpha’s name and coming hard.

A few moments later, Tomás came, filling Henry’s ass.

They lay together on the pillows, panting while they caught their breath. Henry’s eyes met Journey’s. The two dogs sat a short distance away, eyes wide as they stared at their humans.

“Uh-oh.” Henry winced. “We may have shocked our fur babies.”

Tomás sat up, groaning. “They’ll live. They have to because I really want to do that again.”

Henry wrapped the knitting blanket around them. “We have food, a heater, and comfortable pillows. I think they’re going to adjust to seeing us together.”

Tomás grinned and kissed him. “They’ll have a lot of practice.”

Henry burrowed against him. “I have to text Sam, though. Otherwise, he’ll think we got murdered.”

Henry

The next morning, Henry sat on the back stoop of his house and watched the sun slowly rise. Juan’s Bluetooth and MP3 player sat beside him, volume low, as he listened to Dolly Parton’s “Light of a Clear Blue Morning.”

He knew of Dolly, of course, everyone did, but he’d never heard her music before. The song spoke of dark nights ending and new days dawning. The beginning of hope and the certainty that the future would work itself out.

Henry felt the words deep inside him. In the past, after spending the night with a man, he’d be self-conscious, embarrassed at the idea of not meeting expectations. He’d worry about what his parents and friends would say about a new relationship. Would they approve? Would he be accepted by the boyfriend’s friends and family? For years, he’d tried so hard to be the perfect son, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect Powell.

Tomás didn’t care about that. He loved Henry just because. There was no hidden agenda. He didn’t want the Powell money or connections. He didn’t want Henry to be pretty and quiet, just another trophy to be shown off. He just wanted Henry.

More importantly, now, with the sun rising over his messy backyard and beautiful chicken coop, Henry was ready to just be himself. He felt free in a way he never had before. Was it embarrassing? Yes. He was an adult, damn it. A night of sex shouldn’t affect him this much. It was more than that, though.

The difference between sex with Tomás and sex with anyone else was how it made Henry feel afterward. Tomás’s love wasn’t possessive or shallow. He’d worshiped Henry, his every touch full of reverence. Henry finally felt comfortable in his own skin. He was where he wanted to be, with who he wanted.

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” he sang softly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He wiped at the tears running down his cheeks, flushing when he noticed Juan watching him from where he leaned against the house. The large alpha was a bit odd. His short mohawk was dyed a deep green and he wore his work clothes – jeans, boots, flannel shirt and a t-shirt with a sasquatch on it.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling past his tears. “Tomás is still sleeping inside.”

Juan gave him a soft look and sat next to him. “You like Dolly, huh?”

“I’ve never heard her before.” Henry laughed, embarrassed as more tears fell. “Damn it, my eyes won’t stop leaking.”

“She does that to us all sometimes.” Juan leaned over and bumped his shoulder against Henry’s. “I like this song a lot. There’s nothing more beautiful than a bit of hope after a long fight.”

Henry nodded, trying to stifle a sob. “I’m so tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. Of worrying that I’m not enough. I’m fucking beautiful, damn it.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Juan nodded. “Tomás sees it. We all do.”

Henry sobbed harder. “God, the way he makes me feel. He loves me.” He gestured to himself. “Me. Hell, when I’m with him, I love me too.”

“You deserve that love.”

“My last relationship was,” Henry struggled to breathe for a moment, “really, really bad. It ended right before I came to Hobson Hills for the first time. He made me feel so bad about myself. I’d never had a lot of self-confidence anyway, but he convinced me I was garbage. Nothing I did was ever right because I was stupid and naïve. No one loved me because I was a disgusting lump of nothingness. The only redeeming quality I had was my money.”

“That fucking piece of shit.” Juan wrapped an arm around him. “You know that’s not true. Right?”

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