Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege)

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Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege) Page 6

by Aiden Bates

“I’ve been fine.”

  That was all he said, and I was grateful for that much. Teddy could have said a hell of a lot of things to me, all of which I would have more than deserved. I was going to say something back, something neutral, like, good, but Teddy cleared his throat as if he was ready to say something more. I glanced over at him.

  “Well, I appreciate the ride, Roman. Thank you. It was kind of you.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal. I’d have done it for anyone.” Shit. That’s not exactly what I meant. I glanced at Teddy once more, hoping I could elaborate, but he was looking out the window again. At least things weren’t as tense between us.

  But, that feeling was quickly short-lived. Before, I’d been so concerned about how to break the tension, that I hadn’t realized the other very obvious explanation for my reaction to Teddy. I hadn’t noticed earlier with all the other people around us, but now I could smell him. I mean really smell him. The citrusy spice of Teddy was familiar. I hadn’t realized exactly how deeply that fragrance was lodged into my brain until just now. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to stop the truck and get as far away from it as I could or figure out a way to bottle it and drown in it forever. Now his scent was filling the truck, and with it was the extra scent of his heat. Not the overpowering characteristic of full heat, thank god. I could tell because the mind-crushing urge to drag him home and bury my nose in his neck or in between his thighs, was absent. Well, no more urgent than it was every time I saw Teddy.

  I guessed he was probably on a heat suppressor. That made sense, given his work. O’Rourke’s words from earlier repeated in my mind, and I tried to imagine how difficult it was for Teddy there. I’d been in the Army long enough to know lots of alphas didn’t have great opinions of omegas outside the home. Oh sure, they loved them, were obsessed with them, thought they were the best thing ever. As long as they knew ‘their place.’ It had always been so stupid. Teddy was the smartest damn person I’d ever known. He’d actually skipped a couple of grades in school and graduated college with his master’s in four years. Teddy was an honest, swear-on-your-mama genius. He’d always been. I imagined how impatient and pissed he probably was about having shitty alphas boss him around or crack jokes about him when they thought he might not hear.

  I was racking my brain for anything worth saying at all. I wanted to know how he had been doing since Jason died, but Jesus, that was more personal than I’m sure he was willing to share. I’d worried about him, but that probably wouldn’t be well received given everything that had happened. God, I was such a shit heel.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

  “What?” Teddy asked, head whipping back to face me again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bullshit. Teddy knew. Teddy always knew.

  “I’m, well…” Too late to back out now, Carpenter. You got yourself into this. If he needed you to crawl on your belly and spell it out for him, then tough shit, soldier. “I’m sorry. You know? About everything. About how things ended. I shouldn’t have done it like—”

  “It’s done, alright? What’s done is done.”

  I’d been stupid, and I’d taken him for granted. I’d seen the guys around me either hoping to find a nice omega when they returned home from the front or holding back frustration and sadness when they got letters back from home telling them the distance hadn’t really made the heart grow fonder, just bored or impatient or lonely and that they couldn’t do it. I was lucky, they used to tell me. Teddy wrote me without fail every week. Every week, I knew another letter would be waiting for me, and every week I’d sit there, paper in hand, trying to think of anything at all to say to him, but I’d never been good with words, and back then I was fighting for my life and the lives of those around me. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I missed the way he smelled, how much his laugh was always in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t. I’m still not sure why. Eventually, his letters dropped off from once a week to every other week to once a month, and then hardly any at all. The tone shifted from conversation and longing, to confusion and then anger. Then, nothing.

  I was so fucking cocky after I got done with my first tour. I’d showed up to Teddy’s place the day I got home and found him there with another omega. One whiff told me everything I needed to know about how Teddy had moved on. I remembered being so startled, I’d said some stupid shit about starting things up again, and Teddy’s mouth had gaped open.

  “Me or the Army. Choose.”

  That was all he’d said; and looking back it was five words more than I deserved. I’d re-enlisted as fast as I could and headed back into the pressure cooker.

  “Teddy. I—”

  “No, look, It’s finished, alright? I mean it. I’m over it. No big deal. It’s ancient history.”

  “Oh. Well… That’s good. It’s just…” I tried to remember any of the psycho-babble my Army-issued shrink had said after I got injured. “I was worried you never got, fuck, I don’t know. Closure? Is that what folks say?”

  “Yeah, Roman. I got plenty of closure.”

  I didn’t know what to say and figured that was a good sign for not saying anything at all.

  Teddy sighed, and leaned his head back against the headrest. “Really, Roman, It’s fine. It’s been a million years.”

  I pulled to a stop in front of his apartment building. My hands were aching from how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel. It was unclear whether that was because of the pheromones that were pouring off of Teddy or because of our conversation. I looked over at him, catching his gaze.

  “So, we’re good then? Because you’re my commanding officer’s son and one of my little brother’s best friends. It’s been over a year, and I can’t help but feel like, hell, I don’t know. Like you’ve not wanted to be around me, like you’ve been avoiding me.”

  Teddy broke eye contact, looking down and to the side. Ha, gotcha.

  “We’re bound to run into each other, Teddy. We run in too many of the same circles not to. It would be good if we could be, like, friends? Right?”

  “Like friends?” Teddy asked. His face had lost some of the hardness it had had earlier, his lips just barely curling at the edges. “Yes, Roman. We can be friends. Emphasis on friends, got it?”

  I nodded. I was thankful for what he’d give me. As I watched Teddy’s smirking lips, I was somewhat hopeful. Teddy was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar, and despite a lot of attempts to be otherwise, his emotions were always visible on his face. Well, to me, anyway.

  “I’m glad.” And I was. Definitely, but there was still a niggling thought in the back of my mind that said, ‘not enough.’ It wasn’t really what I wanted from Teddy. It was so hard when all of this was so damn familiar. The way he smelled, the night air, the close cabin of my truck. There was no way to stop the flood of memories of when we were together. I’d come pick him up and we’d go wherever we could so long as we could be alone. It was always at night so we could get by Teddy’s dad. Teddy was only just starting to get his heats then, and god, there was nothing else in the world like it, like him. We never had sex, not fully, but that didn’t mean we weren’t otherwise horny teenagers. We’d tease and taste and touch until both of us were nearly out of our minds with wanting each other, and just when it seemed like we might finally, finally go that last step, one of us would pull back. I’d take him home, only to find myself yearning for him as we sat in front of his house and said long goodbyes.

  It was probably my wishful thinking, but right now, in my truck, it seemed like maybe, possibly I wasn’t the only one who was reminded of those times.

  “Well, thanks again, Roman,” Teddy said before slipping out of the cab and into the night. I watched his retreating back and couldn’t help but feel I’d messed up even more than I could ever really understand.

  Friends. Great.

  I drove the short distance to my own apartment building and parked outside before taking the steps two at a time. I could still smell him on me,
and if there was any way I was going to get my head on straight I was going to need to scrub myself raw. I threw my keys down and started to strip my clothes on the way to the bathroom. I turned the shower on and as it was heating, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  Jesus. Sometimes, it was still such a shock. The skin grafts to my left leg and side had healed as well as could be expected, but scars still rippled their way over the surface of my thigh and stomach. I had worked hard to stay in shape, and it showed, but there was just no comparison. Before my accident, I’d been hot. Silas had always followed that up with ‘Yeah, and your problem is that you know it.’ I had never been smart, and I wasn’t particularly charming, but I’d been good looking enough that it hadn’t ever really mattered. Any person I wanted was mine even after I got bored with them. Everyone except Teddy. He’d never been drawn in like the others, and he’d always, always made me work for it. Every last bit of his attention was earned. Still, it wasn’t like Teddy was blind.

  Now? It would be better if he were blind. Because, this? None of this would be what he remembered. It was possible I was just more focused on the other injuries I’d sustained, but I just looked, well, lopsided. Only having one ball had really fucked with me. I’d never dated anyone since Teddy. Honestly, never even felt that way about anyone since, but I’d never been opposed to sharing a bed with someone. Looking like I did before, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. And, well, the size of my cock didn’t hurt. I’d been blessed in that department. Thankfully, the explosion hadn’t affected everything down there, but still, since the accident I could hardly look at myself without immediately homing in on what wasn’t there anymore. I certainly hadn’t let anyone else see me.

  The steam from the shower started to fog the mirror, and I took my cue and gave myself over to the pounding water. The problem was, even with the water running down my body I could smell him. Sharp and heady.

  Jesus, thinking of Teddy while in the shower wasn't a good idea. How awkward would it be the next time I ran into him knowing I’d gotten off to nothing but a handful of memories and the way he smelled? It was sure to only make things worse. Then again, I’d never really been known for my good ideas. I was already hot and bothered, and I knew I had a long night of hitting the books in front of me. No way was I going to be able to focus while still so keyed up.

  Giving in, I wrapped my hand around my cock, letting myself get lost in my memories of him. His skin had always been so soft under my thick fingertips. He’d constantly said he was scrawny, just skin and bones. I guessed it was because Teddy had always been praised for his brain, never his body. And that was a shame. Because Teddy was beautiful. My cock responded immediately, already half-hard from earlier. I thought about the silky skin of his neck under my mouth, the sweet, panting groans he’d breathe into my hair as I drifted my hands from his knees to the insides of his thighs, getting close, close, close to where he wanted me to touch him before drifting back down only to do it again and again. I’d avoid kissing his mouth for as long as I could stand to, just so I could hear more and more of the noises dripping from his lips. Finally, his hips would start arching and he’d get to the point where he was nearly sobbing ‘Ro, oh god. Please. Fuck, Ro.’ Then, I’d give in, chasing those sounds right to their source as I stroked his hard cock until he came and my hand was dripping with his release.

  Under the stream of the shower, I tightened my fist on my dick, twisting as I stroked hard and fast, thinking about him moaning around me and about how good it had felt to have him between my legs. After he’d come back down to earth, he’d pull back and look at me with this knowing little smirk before pushing me back into the seat to let me watch as he mouthed at the head of my cock, his pink tongue lapping at the slit and licking up the stream of precum oozing from it. There was no way he could have ever fit all of my thick cock in his mouth, but, god bless him, there was never any stopping him from trying. With that image in my head, my muscles tensed, and with a loud groan I came harder than I had in months, striping the wall with my release. What was I doing? Who was I trying to kid? It didn’t take a genius like Teddy to know this went beyond friends.

  I washed quickly, not really sure how to feel about the whole thing now it was over. It’d been a long time since I’d given myself over to those memories, and I’d forgotten how potent they were. I threw on some old sweats and settled in with a cup of coffee and the next of many thick, boring manuals. I needed to forget about Teddy and focus on the task at hand. At least I had the memories, but I needed to get used to the fact that memories were all I was going to have.

  8

  Teddy

  I’d woken up on Monday morning and realized I’d burrowed myself deep below my comforter in my sleep.

  Thank god.

  My heat was over, which meant I could go back to work because I was no longer a distraction. Then again, while at home I’d made good progress on my project and gotten my car seen to, so it wasn’t a total loss.

  I could have high-fived myself, I was so excited.

  I rode that high all the way back to work, into the office, and up to my desk. But when I got there, it was all I could do to not gape at it. I hadn’t been gone that long. This was my desk, but I certainly wasn’t the person settled very comfortably behind it.

  Sweeney looked up from what he was working on and tried to begin explaining.

  “Well, hey, Teddy! I—”

  “Teddy!” The exclamation behind me preceded a light slap and a grip on my shoulder. I turned to find Wilcox with a smile plastered on his face. “Teddy! Good to have you back. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Why is—”

  “Oh, we’ve got good news! We’ve done a little reconfiguring of the teams. Nothing drastic, just rethinking where people could best be utilized and…” He looked over at Sweeney as though they were both planning to surprise me with an all-expenses paid trip somewhere.

  “We’re moving you to user interface!” Wilcox finally said.

  “But… What about my job here? What about heuristics? Who’s…” I swiveled my head toward Sweeney who had gone back to typing during the exchange.

  Ah.

  “Well, you’ve gotten so much done it really just needs a few final nudges, so it’ll be easy for Sweeney to just pick up where you left off and wrap it up,” Wilcox explained with the sort of tone someone would use to explain a stroke of genius.

  “Yes, I was able to get a lot done. That’s why I’m not sure why I wouldn’t be able to—”

  Ah.

  I sensed that for Wilcox it had been a stroke of genius. He was highly incentivized to keep an omega in heat out of a largely alpha-dominated workplace in order to allow the alphas to continue doing whatever some of these people did all day. But if it threatened to become a regular occurrence, well, he couldn’t fire me over being an omega. He’d just have to find a creative reason to fire me if that was what he wanted to do. Or, best of all, he could not fire me, relegate me to somewhere a little less alpha, but still call me in to consult on the things my degree and experience enabled me to do.

  Wilcox’s smile threatened to falter in response to my obvious lack of enthusiasm for the change, but never one to avoid sticking his foot further in his mouth, he continued, rambling on undeterred.

  “This is a great opportunity for you! You’ll get to work with a brand-new project, you’ll learn new and exciting skills, and develop professionally!”

  Ha. Bet anything I wouldn’t. User interface was the acceptable fringe of programming that was marginally easier for omegas and women to break into. Getting put on this project meant I wouldn’t be doing any of the stuff I was actually good at. It also meant I would have basically no impact on the very significant stuff. This? This was the most meaningless, bullshit job possible for me.

  I might have bitten my tongue and not said anything, but I had another major issue with this reassignment. Although I was trying to push past heuristics, it was my base, and any advancement
here sometimes helped me advance my work at home. That was the hardest thing to swallow.

  “Sir,” I said carefully, looking between Wilcox and Sweeney while I searched for the word I wanted to use. “Mr. Wilcox. I’m…honored you’re considering me for this move. I think you’re right. I think this would be a great opportunity to stretch my skills.”

  Wilcox seemed to brighten even further at the notion that I was coming around to the idea; however, he looked a touch crestfallen when he realized I was going to add a but.

  “That being said, my only concern is that heuristics is my background. It’s the area in which I’ve done the best work, and has sort of been my baby here, so to speak. In order to have the completed project under my belt, could this move be postponed until after I was done?”

  There. Compromise. I’d suck up the move, use it as just another hurdle to prove myself, finish my project, and do my damnedest to get my name on it. Then, it was time to send out resumes. At least if I finished, it didn’t look like I was moved because of a problem, just that I was done.

  “Teddy,” Wilcox said, also carefully, but not in the same sense I had. I was being careful because potentially, my entire future was in the hands of this idiot. He was being careful because he believed he had to tiptoe around my feelings and not cause a scene, lest HR get involved.

  “Teddy. We appreciate all your hard work on this project, but for all of the reasons I’ve said—and, honestly, to let other staff get to work on it too—I think this is a good move for you. One of the things I’ve always liked about working with you, Teddy, is that you can be a real team player.”

  Was I? Really? Ever?

  “Sometimes,” Wilcox added. He leaned back a little on my desk—or, as it increasingly seemed, what used to be my desk—and placed his hand on my shoulder once again. “It would be very valuable to us if you could continue being a team player now.”

  Having been told my whole life by Dad that I needed to just say what I meant without dawdling, searching, hemming or hawing, I was suddenly struck by how silky-smooth the final edict was out of Wilcox’s mouth. I briefly entertained the mental image of the two of them trying to talk to each other, and Dad being driven to near violence with this kind of corporate doublespeak. I hated it too, but once again, I was caught in the middle.

 

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