Page 97 of Claimed By the Cowboys
Was that a pattern?
Pressure. That was the only way I could really describe the sensation. Like my stomach, or I guess uterus, was hugging in on itself, and when the baby moved, it felt like they were complaining about the lack of room. I was only a small omega, and I had decided to have babies with four gigantic alphas—the math wasn’t mathing.
It seemed too soon to say anything to the guys, but that was three squeezes, each about ten minutes apart. I hadn’t had any Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I wasn’t sure if these were that or if they might be more. Whatever the case, I was too awake now, and I needed to tire myself out again.
I got up, going to the bathroom because, of course, now that my brain was churning, I had to pee.Typical. Unfortunately for me, I had some trouble holding it right now, and I’d dribble a bit on the walk to the toilet.
After finishing, things felt a little more comfortable downstairs. I’d given the baby more room, so that was good. As I took a deep breath, ready to try this bed thing again, I realized that the squeezes I’d been feeling might have been going on longer than I thought. The pressure had made it difficult to sleep. Had I started preliminary labor?
Shrugging, I let it go. Even if I were in labor, I had a long wait before anything got serious. Labor for first-time moms usually lasted at least twelve hours—plenty of time.
And then that pressure ratcheted up by approximately a million percent.
“Holy…” I hissed, leaning over the sink, bracing a hand on either side. This one was so much more intense than the last; every muscle in my abdomen and back was clamping down. It was like a roller coaster hill. I went up, up, up, until the pain peaked, and then it backed off again.
If I had to judge, that was less time than the last ones. Maybe only six minutes, and it’d lasted longer too.
That wasdefinitelya contraction.
Shoot, that must mean it was time.
I wanted to go back to the nest to alert the guys it was go time. While I wasn’t technically due for a week or two, the baby was measuring large during my last checkup. They were probably ready to come.
“Pipes?” Zeke’s sleepy voice from the doorway made me close my eyes with a sigh of relief.
“I think it’s time,” I croaked.
The sleepy, half-lidded expression vanished, quickly replaced by a look of shock and panic. He was thoroughly awake in a matter of seconds, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline.
“I’ll wake the others!” he said loudly before vanishing from sight so quickly that, for a moment, I thought I had imagined him.
I chuckled to myself. Seeing Zeke all worked up like that was actually pretty adorable. I forced myself to breathe, trying to calm down. I’d installed a contraction timer app on my phone, and I opened it up, manually adding the last contraction that hit. I was thirsty, too, so I snagged the glass by the sink and poured myself some water from the faucet.
Another contraction hit, and I bit my lip, my body tensing. Reaching for my phone, I started the contraction timer. I was supposed to stay as relaxed as I could, but this was intense.Isn’t it supposed to ramp up slowly? Geez.
“Duchess?” Clay’s voice, gravelly with sleep, reached me just a second before I felt his hand on my lower back, pressing down gently. He seemed to pick up on my discomfort, putting his hands on either of my hips and squeezing them hard.
“Fuck, that feels good,” I mumbled, meeting his eye in the mirror.
“Zeke is shouting the house down, saying, ‘it’s time’?”
“I’m pretty sure it is. Holy fudge, this is painful,” I whimpered, leaning farther over the sink. It was difficult to talk through the contractions already, and panic lanced through me. It wasn’t supposed to be this fast. I was sure of it. The contraction eased off, though, so I stopped the timer and took several more sips of water.
The baby was moving around in there, which was a good sign, and I let out a sigh as I caught my breath for a few minutes. According to the app, that one had been about thirty seconds, and it was definitely five minutes from the last one.
Clay rubbed my back in slow circles as I forced myself to just sway and breathe.Relaxed. We’re staying really relaxed, aren’t we, baby? That’s right.
After some time, Clay stepped beside me and looked me in the eye. “How about we get you into some comfy clothes so we can get you to the birthing center?” he asked softly.
“In a minute,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and groaning. “Everything feels so tight and heavy. And they’re coming so—Fuck! Again?” I whined as another contraction hit.
Clay’s eyes widened. “Those wereveryclose together.”
I gaped at him, drawing in ragged breaths. Contractions close together meant the baby was coming, and they were comingfast.This was much faster than I expected too. What happened to my twelve hours?
“My back’s been hurting since the festival, and I think there were some milder ones while I was sleeping. I thought that was just normal that far along.”
“Hey, pretty girl,” Dakota said as he slid into the room, taking in the scene before him. I bent over the sink, wearing only one of their T-shirts and nothing else, while Clay rubbed my back.
