Page 15 of His Innocent Omega
“Becks?” Panting, sweat covering my body and my legs shaking, I questioned, “Is that your first name or your last?”
And why the fuck were my legs shaking? Was that even normal? Was I having some kind of seizure? Clearly, I was no longer in control of my body.
Turning back to me, he crouched between my spread thighs. I had one foot on the floorboard, the other on the back of the seat. Dignity had left the building about five minutes ago. This baby's head felt like she was trying to rip me apart.
“Neither. It’s Grayson, actually. First name, I mean,” he rubbed my shaking legs with a gentle caress that mimicked my dreams. “Grayson Beckett
, but my friends call me Becks. Are your legs supposed to be doing that?”
“How the fuck would I know!” I screeched. “I’ve never done this before.”
At least I had a name now. That would be handy for the birth certificate.
“The baby’s head is right here.” His face was a mask of wonderand horror. “Showtime.”
“What do you mean?” Panting was all I was capable of. Another contraction ripped through me, and my body seemed to be pushing this baby out without any help from me.
“I mean, I can see that your baby has dark hair, and a shit ton of it,” he growled. “Now push!”
“Mother. Fuck!” My body felt like it was being torn in two, burning and stretching, and then there was relief. Leaning back, exhausted, I sucked in great gulps of air.
“You’re not done,” Becks said gently, and there wassomethingin his voice. Awe maybe? Glancing at him, he was looking down at the spot between my legs, and I could feel his hands holding onto something, brushing my thighs. “The baby’s head is out, but we need the rest of them yet.”
“Her,” pushing myself back up, I prepared for the next contraction. “She’s a girl.”
As the next wave of pain hit, I pushed and screamed, sounding like an animal. The baby slipped from me, and tears streamed down my face at the same time she let out an ear-piercing wail. She was pissed off and letting everyone in a five-block radius know it. Becks cradled her–slimy and wet and covered in who knew what–against his broad chest. Holding her so gently, that my heart squeezed tightly. She looked so tiny in his massive arms.
“Is she okay?” I whispered.
He looked up at me with shiny, dark eyes. Surely it was a trick of the light, and those weren’t tears in the alpha’s eyes. “She’s perfect. Ten fingers and toes.”
Reaching out my arms, I wordlessly demanded my daughter. He handed her over, as gentle as he could be, and I cradled her to my chest. My stomach began cramping again, and I cried out. “Somethings happening down there.”
Becks stripped off his shirt, andholy fucking Goddess, he was just as ripped as he was in my dreams. Sometimes I wondered if my memory was playing tricks on me, and his abs hadn’t been as sculpted as I remembered. No one his age should look like that. My mouth watered at the sight of all those rippling ab muscles. Goddess, I’d just given birth and I was pretty sure some of the panting I was doing wasn’t from the exertion I’d just gone through. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“Afterbirth,” he commented, and I felt something slimy and gross slip from me. “So much for that shirt.”
“Ew,” wrinkling my nose at him, I watched as he rolled the shirt up and placed it on the ground outside of the car. Sirens could be heard now, the sounds getting closer.
“Cavalry’s coming. How you doing?” he asked, running a finger down the baby's naked back.
Why hadn’t I grabbed anything for her on my way to my car? I’d been so sure that I’d get to the hospital, and they’d tell me I’d just peed myself. That of course my water hadn’t broken and there was no way I was going into labor. Go home, put your feet up for the next month, and have a nice day. No need to grab that bag you packed just this week when you’d been bored in the hotel room.
“I wish I’d thought to grab something to wrap her in.”
“You mean you didn’t come prepared to give birth in the middle of the street?” he snarked, but his eyes were soft as he stared at me holding the baby.
“I did not. And she’s a couple of weeks early.”
His dark eyes narrowed, and I could almost see him doing some quick calculations in his head.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
Fingers crossed he was really bad at math.
Instead of asking what I was sure he wanted to ask, he said, “Does she have a name?”
Smiling down at the round head, covered in wet, inky hair, I whispered, “Julianna. Her name is Julianna.”
