Page 59 of Omega for the Pack

Being nine months pregnant wasn’t fun.

I felt ready to pop as I helped paint the garage in our new home in Howl’s Edge.

The men wore plastic garb from head to toe, while I wore a simple black apron over my maternity clothes. It was a beautiful day outside. I could see the ocean’s waves from our new house. I loved it. Grant and the pack were able to buy a house on the island after working a couple of months with Caleb, and we had just moved in.

I never imagined how big I had gotten. It was heavy carrying around this baby, but at least the nausea and dizziness stopped.

“Take a break, baby,” said Wesley, coming over and kissing my neck.

“Painting takes my mind off things,” I insisted, swiping the paintbrush over the wall in a neat stroke of white paint. I was enjoying this. I straightened back up, massaging my lower back.

“Your dad will have my neck if I don’t stop you from working,” said Wesley. “Considering that they live right next door.”

“How do you feel about them living next door?” I asked lightly, knowing he was the most nervous of all the men.

“I got used to it,” said Wesley, taking off his glove and rubbing my pregnant belly in circles. The men loved rubbing my belly and feeling the baby kick. We purposely didn’t want to find out the gender of the baby. The doctor at the Omega Birthing Clinic said I’d have to go through a scheduled c-section as most omegas did. I didn’t feel comfortable with that, but I still wanted to be alive at the end of all this.

“Wesley, quit flirting and get working,” grunted Grant. “Tonight is your turn with her anyway.”

“I’m trying to get her to stop working so hard,” argued Wesley. Then, under his breath. “Jealous ass.”

I started to feel a twinge in my lower belly, like a tightening in my lower section.

I set the paintbrush down.

“You might be right, actually,” I said. “I’m going to take a little break.”

“Let me get a kiss first, beautiful,” said Tony.

I looked up, and his lips descended on mine. Kissing me thoroughly before I left the garage. Butterflies never failed to overwhelm me every time he kissed me like this. His sweet smell of cologne was like a drug. I felt like he and Grant were the most jealous of all the guys when it came to me.

“You smell good,” I said.

He kissed my neck and tried pulling down my white shirt. My skin heated under his warm, thick lips.

“Tony, get to work,” ordered Grant. “We got to get this garage done by tonight.”

“Alright,” he rasped, reluctantly lifting his mouth off the top of my boob.

“We’ll play later,” I whispered teasingly, biting his lower lip.

“Damn,” he breathed as I walked away.

I was aroused right now, but I didn’t want to start a fight in there. Grant and Sam seemed pretty serious this morning about getting all the painting done in the house before the new baby arrived next week.

I removed my apron and walked into the house. The house was spacious, with tall cream walls and a beige sectional in the living room. The kitchen had a large island in the middle of it, and I bought a little plant to put in the middle.

Pouring a glass of water, I stood in the kitchen, chugging it down. It felt so cool and refreshing down my throat. I took my apron off and hung it over a chair as another spasm of pain wracked through me.

I slowly limped to the closest bedroom. The baby’s nursery.

I sat on the rocking chair, looking around at the finished room. We decorated the walls light green, and the little bed was covered in green sheets. I had so much fun decorating this room with my pack. Little plush fur toys were everywhere, and a giant teddy bear sat in the corner at Tony’s insistence. I couldn’t wait for my baby to enjoy all this.

Suddenly, a sharp pain hit my lower belly, and I groaned, holding my stomach. This felt different.

The pain intensified and tightened. That’s when I realized these were serious contractions. All day I had felt little twinges here and there, but nothing this intense. I stayed hunched on the rocking chair until the pain passed.

I stood up and suddenly felt a gush between my legs.

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