Page 52 of His Sassy Omega
Something I wasn’t and had no plans to ever be.
What wasthatfluttering in my belly when he’d asked the question? A hot bath, food, a movie. Shit, maybe he meant for me to run him the bathand cook him food. That seemed like a traditional alpha thing, and I felt myself bristle a little thinking about it.
“I’ll start the bath for you when we get to your place.” It was almost as if he’d read my mind. “You can relax in the tub while I order us some food. No one wants to eat my cooking.”
He looked a little sheepish, his smile a bit crooked, and it didsomethingto my insides.
“It’s bad,” he continued. “Really, really bad. The bath should help your headache. Put some pj’s on, and we can eat while we watch a movie. Sound good?”
Gooddidn’t even come close to describing how it fucking sounded. It sounded likeheaven. Damn him.
“It sounds good.” My voice was soft, a huge lump in my throat.
I was somewhat ashamed of the previous thoughts I’d had about his intentions. That and I was overcome with so many emotions, and I had not one fucking clue what to do with any of them. I’d been running scared this morning when I’d asked him to leave.Tossed him out, you tossed him out, Quinn.I could feel the swirling emotions beginning to engulf me again, but I did my best to push them aside and not freak the fuck out.
When we reached my house, I pulled my car into the garage, then waited while Lachlan parked in my drive. I closed the garage door, and he followed me up the walk to my porch. Once inside, we pulled our shoes off by the front door.
“I’m going to start your bath.” His voice carried as he made his way down the hall, back to my bedroom. “What sounds good for dinner?”
“Pizza?” I followed him into my bedroom, sitting on the bed. I watched him in my bathroom as he searched my cabinets for Goddess only knew what. It felt odd sitting there doing nothing, while he fiddled around in my personal space.
He poked his head out from under my vanity cabinet. “Do you not have any bubble bath? Or candles?”
Say what now?Well, that solved the mystery. I chewed on my thumbnail. “Negative Ghost Rider. On both.”
He sighed like I’d told him Santa wasn’t real and stood to his full height. “We’ll have to do something about that, for next time.”
Next time? I chewed some more on my nail.I would not freak out, I would not freak out.
I watched him test the temperature of the water with his hand before he came back into the bedroom. “As for dinner I’ll never say no to pizza. Sausage, pepperoni, veggie?”
“All the meat.” My mouth watered the same time my stomach rumbled, reminding me we had skipped lunch. Well, I had inhaled four donuts that morning, so I hadn’t been that hungry. I usually forgot to eat when I was super busy.
“Thank God you didn’t say veggie.” He grinned, going back and shutting the water off. “I’ll get the pizza ordered, while you get in the tub. I’ll bring you something to drink.”
He planted a soft kiss on top of my curls and left me to it. I stared at the empty doorway. I could hear the soft murmur of his voice as he ordered dinner and the opening and closing of my fridge. He seemed perfectly comfortable in my space. Sitting there another few seconds, taking it all in, I foundmyselfcomfortable with him in my space.
I stripped quickly in the bathroom and sank into the tub with a grateful sigh. The hot water surrounded me, instantly relaxing me, and working on my sore muscles. My headache was down to a dull throb. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. “Do not freak out,” I whispered to myself.
“Pizza will be here in twenty.” Lachlan’s deep, quiet voice startled me out of the doze I hadn’t known I’d fallen into. I jerked a little, splashing water. “I ordered garlic bread too, the kind with the cheese on it. Because cheese.”
I closed my eyes again. “Yum. I’m starving.” I felt his hand moving the water, and I cracked an eye open. He was lathering up soap on a washcloth.
“Are you going to wash me?” I snorted, because really? No one had ever done any of this for me. I’d been washing myself since I was five.
“Lean forward.” He ignored my snort and pushed gently at my shoulders. I did as instructed and he ran the soapy rag over my shoulders, kneading my tight muscles as he went. I exhaled and felt the tension drain from me once more. I was right, this was heaven. I let him wash me. He was so tender, touching me like I was a fragile child he was afraid he was going to break. He kept it cursory over my good parts. Honestly, I was too tired to even get more than a passing tingle when the cloth ran over my limp dick and hole.
His sure strokes soothed me, and I was sleepy and punch drunk by the time he had me rinsed, and wrapped in a fluffy, soft towel. He gently dried me, then asked me which drawer had my pajamas in them. I pointed, instructing him where to look, and he came back with my softest, warmest green plaid pajama pants. He knelt at my feet, and I held onto his broad shoulder while stepping into the leg openings. Once he had my pants on me, he steered me toward the living room.
The doorbell rang, and he went to retrieve the pizza, while I gathered plates and napkins, along with a drink for him to go with the water he had brought me in the bath. I picked up the remote and pulled up one of my streaming services.
“We could watch a Christmas movie,” I suggested because it was the season. And because I loved Christmas.
He studied me for a minute, giving my suggestion serious thought. “Die Hard?”
I stared at him, hard. “You think‘Die Hard’is a Christmas movie?”
A lot was riding on his answer. There were people who thoughtDie Hard’was a Christmas movie, and then there were people who were just wrong. His answer might be a deal-breaker for me, no matter how he was starting to make me feel.
