Page 37 of His Gentle Omega
“Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely, the lump in my throat finally vanishing. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Bennett
“Daddy’s sleeping again,” Lucas commented as he moved his plastic gingerbread man to the next orange square.
Glancing over at Shay, he had his head tilted back resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, soft snores echoing with each breath. Smiling at the sight, because he just looked so…adorable, I nodded. “He is. His body needs lots of rest, but he’s getting better. He’s not wheezy anymore.”
It was Thursday night, and tomorrow Shay would meet with Alex Ortega, the family law lawyer. Then he and Lucas would be moving into the house next door, and sadness washed over me at the thought of them no longer being with me.
He’s going to be right next door, Benny, my wolf chided gently.Not like you aren’t going to see him ever again.
Not the same though, and we haven’t even talked about us being fated mates. We have barely even touched.
Which, in all honesty, might be a good thing. Shay was keeping his distance, and I couldn’t blame him for that. He needed to get things settled between him and his…mate–and fuck if that didn’t leave a horrible taste in my mouth–before we could possibly think about moving forward with anything between the two of us.
And even though I knew that Shay and Edward were over, each time my eyes landed on his mate claim scar, it was like a flashing neon danger sign. It basically screamed at me ‘do not touch, doesn’t belong to you’.
But he does belong to us, my wolf huffed.He’s our mate. Our fated mate. That trumps everything.
He’s already mated, I argued, absently picking a card and moving my blue plastic piece to the next purple square.
Bah,my wolf grumbled,is he though? Really?
That mate claim scar says he fucking is. Let it go.
“Bennett. Bennett, it’s your turn again,” Lucas’s voice finally broke into my silent arguing with my wolf. Shaking my head to clear it, I picked another card, glancing at the clock on my phone. “I should wake your dad up. It’s getting late.”
It wasn’t that late, but for a six-year-old, it was already past his bedtime. And Shay would sleep better in his bed–my bed–the bed.
Pushing up from my spot on the floor in front of my coffee table, where we had the board game set up, I knee crawled over to where Shay was sprawled out. All long legs and loose arms.
Standing, because I was too short to wake him while I was still on the floor, I leaned over him. Gently shaking his shoulder, he jerked violently, knocking me off balance. With a squeak, I fellforward, stopping my descent into him with one hand falling firmly on his thigh and the other on his bicep. Goddess, the man had hard muscles beneath his skin.
You could tell Shay didn’t spend hours in a gym, but his shoulders were wide, his limbs long, and there definitely wasn’t any extra fat on him. There were hard, defined muscles in his arms and his legs. At least from what I could feel under my hands, as they flexed, the faintest ripple of movement running through him.
His eyes flew open, staring into mine. We were barely an inch apart, my hair falling over my forehead and almost touching his face. My eyes were glued first to his blue, blue eyes, and then his lips.
We were so close I could feel every breath he took against my lips. Like he was touching me without actually touching me.
His scent overwhelmed me, wrapping around me like a soft blanket. All musky spice, and clean earth after a summer rainstorm.
His arm came up, his hand falling to the back of my neck, and he pulled me closer to him. His eyes stared into mine, then moved down to stare at my lips. My lips suddenly felt dry, all moisture from my mouth vanishing, and I licked them with my tongue.
Shay’s pupils dilated, his eyes glued to the motion.
“Bennett, it’s your turn!” Lucas’s tone indicated he might have said that more than once, and he was growing impatient.
Without turning to look at him, or breaking away from Shay, I mumbled, “Can you go for me?”
A rustle of cardboard, then an exclaimed, “Oh man! You got the popsicle card! You’re going to win for sure!”
Shay swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, and when the fuck hadthatbecome something sexy? I needed to get off of him. I needed to move away from him–far away–where I couldn’t smell him. Or see his blue eyes. Or his full, kissable lips. Or touch all the hard goodness that was his muscles.
I did none of that.
I wanted to kiss him. Or for him to kiss me. For us to kiss.
