Page 32 of With A Little Luck
Jesus Christ.
How did I miss that?
I vaguely remember stripping out of my belt and jeans at some point, but I wasn’t awake enough to be concerned if Quincywould be uncomfortable to find me in only my boxer briefs when morning came.
Hell, maybe I intended to wake up before she did so it wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t know. I wasn’t conscious enough to make good choices.
Either way, we have a bigger issue.
She’s burning up.
She moans and jerks in her sleep, dragging her leg over my length. It jumps in response. Her pheromones sit heavy in the air, and I freeze as she grinds her pussy over my hip.
Aww, fuck.
This would be so much hotter if I wasn’t terrified. Then again, my dads always told me and my brothers not to overthink too much when it comes to caring for an omega. Alpha instincts are honed in on how best to meet an omega’s needs.
They said to trust our guts, which I would be much more open to doing if Quincy and I were dating.
Goddammit.
I should have asked her to be my girlfriend before we fell asleep.
Her hand rests on my pec, and her fingers dig into my skin as she whimpers.
“Are you okay down there, beautiful?” I murmur, running my fingers over her cheek.
“Hart? I don’t feel so good.”
“Yeah, I can tell. What can I do to help you feel better?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, burying her nose deeper into my skin. “Everything is hazy. You smell so good.”
“You smell pretty fucking incredible to me, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions…”
She licks me.
My dick jumps like she slid that naughty tongue right downitinstead of my pec.
Her nails dig into my ribs, and she trembles. “Okay, I decided what I need is your pheromones. Maybe more than just your pheromones. I don’t know. I’m achy.”
“Do you want me to take over and see what I can do to help?”
She nods.
Fuck me.
I’m pretty sure there’s an actual puddle of slick forming where she’s been grinding against my hip and the top of my thigh. My instincts take over, and I very carefully roll her onto her back.
“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling my arm from underneath her back. “I mean, is it safe for the baby?”
“For short bursts. The doctor said I would know if something was wrong. I’d have discomfort or my vision would go fuzzy.”
“You’ll tell me if any of that comes up,” I say, and it’s not a question.
“I will,” she agrees, wrapping her hands around my torso.
I’m next to her on the bed, but with my top half stretched over hers. Luckily I’m in good shape. I can contort around her with little trouble. Planting a hand next to her head, I lower my face to hers and mark her cheeks with my scent.
