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

by Aiden Bates

  “And I’m never going to find out if I don’t take a swing at it.”

  Rob looked, for a second, like he wanted to counter that argument. Instead he reined himself in. “Well, I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m not here to make you do anything you don’t want to. If that’s what you want, I’m no one to stop you,” he said magnanimously, giving me a friendly, warm smile.

  Unsurprisingly, that also sounded like bullshit. Still, it was on the better end of the responses I’d thought of on my drive here. I’d take it.

  The waiter came and took our plates, long since ignored. Lunch was over.

  “Well, thank you for meeting with me. I just, you know, thought I owed it to you to do this in person,” I said, pulling my napkin from my lap and tossing it on the table before draining the last dregs of my wine glass.

  “I can appreciate that,” Rob said, rising to offer me his hand. “Thanks, Mitch. Call me when you need me.” Just like that, I watched a decade of my life walked out of a glittering restaurant in a linen jacket and into a waiting black luxury car.

  He hadn’t even paused.

  I walked back to my car, peering in all the shop windows on Tryon Street. The businessmen all paced by. It was well past one now. Time to head back into their shiny offices and get back to work. Meanwhile, I was absolutely free. If you’d asked me, I would have told you just as I’d told Rob; I loved my job. It wasn’t a lie. I did. Still, walking away felt like removing a weight from my back I hadn’t even known was there. Finally, it was done.

  As other people flowed around me, I stopped to send off a text.

  It’s done. Dinner?

  I set off to my car, and as I made it inside, a ping let me know I had a reply.

  Congratulations! Absolutely, meet me in Fort Greene. I’ll send you the reservation info.

  I smiled. Oliver had already planned dinner. Of course he had.

  It was only after I made it back to I-77 South that I realized something I hadn’t before. Rob hadn’t told me congratulations, like Oliver. Hadn’t wished me well or thanked me or anything. I replayed his last words again. “Call me when you need me.” I replayed it over and over as I navigated through the choked traffic. What a smug piece of shit. “Call me when you need me.” Like it was some sort of foregone conclusion.

  As I watched the last of the suburban sprawl fade into the hazy ozone of the city, I kicked my car into high gear. Fuck that. If Rob Callahan could walk out like it was nothing to him, well, I certainly could, too. Bye-bye. Don’t call me. I sure as hell would rather die than call you.

  Besides, I had a date.

  3

  Oliver

  Even after all this time, I’d never adjusted to southern weather. When we’d moved from Maine, my mother had said after the first summer I’d get over it. But years later, here I was sweating into my collar in March. Then again, that could have absolutely nothing to do with South Carolina and everything to do with my nerves.

  I’d told Mitch the dinner reservations were for seven, and then promptly shown up a half-hour early myself because I was too much of a nervous wreck about the possibility of being late. I’d ordered water and waited, and now, finally, it was almost time. Mitch wanted to celebrate, and he deserved to. I’d met Mitch through the escort service, and as our relationship moved beyond on-the-clock, I’d watched him get more and more uncomfortable and despondent every time Rob called and told him about an appointment. It became clear Mitch was struggling with the conflict between work and me, and as far as I was concerned there was an easy and obvious solution.

  I’d worked hard to get where I was, and what was the point of any of it if I couldn’t help the man I loved? When I’d asked him the very same question, he’d said he’d think about it. So when he’d told me he wanted to leave, I’d been behind him all the way.

  I hadn’t been in a good place when I’d first met Mitch. I’d been sort of broken, lost—part of the reason I’d taken my coworker’s advice and called the agency. The first few times I’d been paired with random omegas. We’d fuck, and afterward I’d catch my breath while they got dressed in the bathroom. It was fine even though it wasn’t what I was looking for.

  I was about to give up on the whole thing all together when Mitch had shown up at the hotel door. He was attractive, but I hadn’t realized just how special he was until I’d started pulling off my clothes and Mitch had quickly slowed my hands. Mitch had started talking to me. I later realized he was always seemingly able to read people’s emotions. He must have known just how messed up I was. That first night, we’d sat there and talked half the night. The most physical thing he’d done had been to hold me, and that had been more of a balm to my needs than any amount of fucking I’d ever done. It had continued like that for months. Just me and Mitch, and each time I saw him it felt less and less like a financial transaction. However, each time I paid Rob Callahan it felt more and more like I was sullying something that had the potential to go far beyond anything I’d ever known previously.

  I was lost in thought when I spotted a familiar auburn head. Mitch was dressed in a nice pair of dark jeans that accentuated his long, lean thighs and a white button down, open at the throat. I watched him scan the room for me, and finally, when his eyes locked on mine, I was rewarded with a warm, toothy grin. After a quick kiss, Mitch plopped down in the chair across from me, running a quick hand through his fiery red hair.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he drawled. Coming here from up north as a teenager, I’d immediately found Southern accents sort of adorable, but Mitch had this way of speaking that rode the line between charming and filthy. From the very first time I’d met Mitch, it had caught my attention. I watched as the eyes in the room tracked our movements. It still wasn’t that mainstream to be in a relationship with another omega. Still, I didn’t care, and neither did Mitch.

  “Hi. How was the trip?” I asked.

  “Oh, fine. I got here early, but I wanted to stop in and see Bennet and the baby.”

  “How are they?”

  Mitch grinned. “Tired and adorable in that order.”

  I laughed. We ordered our dinner and settled in, catching up with each other’s days before diving into the main course, figuratively and literally.

  “Alright, I know you’re dying to ask,” Mitch said.

  I was. “So, how was it?”

  Mitch leapt into a full description of the whole thing with Rob while we ate and drank.

  “I mean, can you believe it? The nerve of that asshole. ‘Call me when you need me.’ I’d rather fuck the wrong end of broom than call him, I swear to god.”

  It was rude, presumptuous, condescending. Just the kind of behavior I was used to hearing about Rob Callahan.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

  Mitch waived a hand, as if brushing my worry away. “No, no. I’m fine. I think I’m just keyed up from it. Probably just all the excitement. But you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve spent too much of my life worrying about Rob Callahan. And now? I don’t have to.” Mitch seemed relieved, and despite his rant his easy smile seemed much more at the ready tonight than it had been lately. Still, it was impossible to ignore the faint anxiety Mitch was giving off. Something around his eyes still read as concerned.

  I gestured to the waiter and he brought over a nice bottle of champagne. “On that note, I wanted to kind of celebrate tonight. I know it’s been a long time coming.”

  “Oh, Oliver. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.” Mitch always felt a little embarrassed about things like this. I teased him relentlessly about how he should be used to being showered with gifts from clients over the years, but he always told me that was different; that he’d never really considered me a client.

  “Of course, I did. This was a huge deal for you. We should definitely celebrate.”

  “Well, far be it for me to argue too much, sweetheart.”

  The waiter poured us both glasses after the cork was popped, and Mitch and I clinked our glasses t
ogether.

  “To new beginnings,” I suggested, my nerves coming back and banding in my stomach.

  Mitch rolled his eyes but smirked. “To new beginnings.”

  “Well, I hope you’re serious about that; new beginnings and all,” I said before taking an envelope out of my jacket and sliding it over to Mitch.

  Mitch arched an eyebrow before taking the envelope and peeking inside. “I’ve already got a key to your place,” Mitch said, pulling out the keys on their chain.

  I smiled. “I know. But this is different.”

  Mitch’s brows drew together in confusion. “I don’t understand?”

  I nodded. “I think you will pretty soon. Finish your dinner.”

  Mitch continued eating, but only bits and pieces as he attempted to guess just exactly what I’d meant.

  “Come on, just one hint,” Mitch begged.

  “Nope. No way. Now come on and finish.”

  As soon as he was done, I loaded him up in my car, and then started driving deeper into Fort Greene.

  “Wait. Where are we going? This is the opposite way of the highway.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Finally, we pulled up to the adorable little ranch house I’d seen weeks ago, the one I’d known from the very first moment was going to be our home. I was sure the “SOLD” sign in the front yard was enough for Mitch to start drawing conclusions of his own. I killed the ignition and looked over at him.

  “You bought a new house?” he asked.

  “I bought us a house. That key is for our house.”

  “Us? Here? In Fort Greene?”

  I nodded. “It just sort of made sense. You’ve got plans to go back to school, all your friends are here, and I can do a lot of work from home now so—”

  “So you bought us house?” Mitch’s tone was still one of confusion, and it wasn’t clear yet which way this was going to go.

  “Well, yeah,” I admitted. “Yeah, I did.”

  “And this is it?” Mitch asked. Any other time I might have given him a hard time for asking such an obvious question, but a small smile started to curl at his lips, and his eyes were wide with what I very desperately hoped was wonder. My throat suddenly felt thick, and all I could do was nod. God, I’d buy Mitch ten houses if I’d get this sort of response.

  “I’ve never owned a house,” he said.

  “Well, now you do. Come on. Let’s put that key of yours to good use.”

  I took him on a short tour. He fell in love with the giant shower in the master bathroom and the wide-open expanse of the kitchen.

  “The furniture is coming in the next few days. The only thing they’ve delivered so far is the bed.”

  “Oh, good. So everything we need then,” Mitch said, coming close to me, and wide grin now gracing his mouth.

  I wrapped my arms around him, burying my nose in his neck and breathing him in. Mitch smelled like honeysuckle and spring rain, clean and refreshing. I wanted to devour him. I always did. But right now there was something else I needed to do.

  “Well, almost. I’d kind of thought I might need something else after we get moved in here,” I murmured against his warm skin.

  “Like WIFI?”

  I shook my head and drew back to carefully take in his expression before dropping to one knee. “No, honey. Like a husband.”

  Mitch’s jaw dropped. For a minute he looked around, like he wasn’t entirely sure this could be happening to him. I pulled the black velvet box from my jacket pocket and opened it so Mitch could see the matching platinum bands.

  “Mitch, the last year of my life has been the very best year of life. I can’t imagine spending it with anyone else. I want to start a family with you, get old with you, be with you. I love you. I can’t even explain how much. Mitch Thompson, please say you’ll marry me.”

  Mitch’s green eyes filled with tears, already red-rimmed even before he’d started properly crying. “Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes. Of course!”

  I’d hoped that was the answer I’d get. As I’d practiced in my head I’d told myself over and over it was almost guaranteed he’d say yes. Still, actually hearing his acceptance was better than I’d imagined. Instantly, I was on my feet again and Mitch was melting into me, finding my mouth and kissing me full and hard. He tasted like champagne and what I’d come to learn was all him. He wove his fingers into my curly hair, and I wrapped my hands around his waist.

  Meaning, out of all four of our hands not one of them was on the ring box, which promptly fell to the bare hardwood floors. Mitch pulled away from me, face flushed.

  “Now, hold on a minute. Usually I’m all for a good romp, but I think I need some hardware first.”

  “There’s a really bad joke to be made about hardware in there somewhere,” I said, extricating myself so I could locate the box. Once I’d done so, I proudly slid the band on his finger.

  Mitch held out his hand and stared at his ring with a beautiful smile. “How did you plan all this?”

  “Well… I wasn’t really planning on doing it today, but when I got your message about Rob, well, it felt like the perfect time to celebrate everything. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? My sexy-as-fuck boyfriend, fuck, fiancé, just bought us a beautiful-as-fuck house and in the process asked me to spend the rest of our lives together until we’re—”

  “Old as fuck,” I offered, in keeping with his theme.

  “Exactly. Exactly that.”

  I pulled him back to me, unable to bear being even a foot away from him right now. I skimmed his jaw with my nose. “I mean it though,” I said quietly. “I want it all with you. Life. Family. Babies. Everything.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Well, now all we have to do is figure out which one of us is going to carry a baby.”

  “It can be whatever you want. We could adopt, or we could go to a sperm bank. I’ve actually been doing research, and what I’ve found is—”

  “Hold your horses there, champ,” Mitch said, his voice light. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not ruling it out. It’s just, I think we need to catch our breaths a little, you know? Pump the breaks, maybe? I mean, I just quit the business, we’re moving, planning a wedding, and, I’ll have you know, despite all these fantastic events, I’ve yet to be fucked even one time. Obviously, we need to catch up on all of that before we start talking kids.”

  “No, hey. That’s okay. You’re right. It’s a lot all at once,” I acknowledged.

  Mitch smiled and cupped my jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, Oliver. God, you’ll be an amazing father. So good. It’s just… I don’t know if I’m quite ready to make that leap just yet. I’m not ruling it out. Not at all. Just let me get used to everything else first, okay?”

  I turned my head a bit so I could kiss Mitch’s palm. “Of course, whatever you want.”

  Mitch seemed to relax a little, as if he’d been worried I might push him. Like hell. Mitch had been pushed and pulled in a million directions since before he’d become an adult. No way were we making that step until both of us were completely ready.

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be an amazing dad, too, Mitch. You’re so loving and tender, compassionate. Any child would be lucky to have you.”

  A pink tint colored Mitch’s cheeks, and I knew the compliment had embarrassed him. He didn’t take compliments well, which made me want to give him more of them.

  “You’re an easy man to love,” I said with a smile.

  “Well, I’m certainly not one to argue with that,” Mitch said, tilting his head haughtily.

  “Mm-hmm. And not a bit modest, either.”

  Mitch took my hand and started pulling me toward the bedroom and the lone piece of furniture it held.

  “Come here, fiancé. I want you to see that lack of modesty up close and personal. I think you’ll appreciate it better that way.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, letting him push me onto the bed. I landed in the middle and stared approvingly as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Yo
u think so?”

  “Absolutely. I know so.” Gloriously bare chested, Mitch climbed over me and then immediately reached for my belt. “Now, lay back and let me prove it.”

  4

  Marcos

  “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Let’s think about this, dude,” I said, holding the bars of my brother’s bed with a grip so tight my knuckles were white. “Mami is not going to back down because, well, you know how she gets…” I threw a quick glance over to Pedro, almost expecting him to laugh and agree with me.

  Oh, yeah. I know how she gets alright. I remember how she got when you and Ernesto got caught in the school bathroom. You remember?

  “Dude. Yes. Shut up. I gotta think,” I said out loud, wincing at the memory of Mami’s righteousness and the whooping I got that day too. “Okay. Mami has decided Papi is gonna go with whatever Mami says—again, how she gets—and I’ve got a month to figure out what I’m gonna do to keep you here and out of…purgatory or limbo or whatev—”

  “Who’s doing the limbo? Y’all aren’t doing the fuckin’ limbo in here, that’s for sure.”

  “Sangre de Cristo!” I yelled, startled at hearing someone actually talk back to me. “Fuck you, Long, you spying bastard. Fuck you very much.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Garret said, chuckling. He clearly found scaring the shit out of me hilarious since he was still snickering as he fully entered the room. He fell into a chair opposite me, on the other side of Pedro’s bed. The smirk on his face threatened to kind of evaporate as he found himself more at eye-level with Pedro. Most people didn’t know how to act around us when they came to visit. Some people ignored Pedro and some people tried to include Pedro in ways that really grossed me out. One time, a new CNA baby-talked to him the whole time during his sponge bath right before I lost my temper, made her cry, and demanded she never be allowed in his room again.

  Garret was fine. As soon as he sat down, he nodded at Pedro but didn’t say anything to him. I didn’t expect anyone to talk to my brother like I talked to him, but I didn’t like people acting like we were all sitting around a corpse, either. That nod was fine. We’d all traded that little nod every time we’d passed each other at base, and it meant that Pedro’s brothers-in-arms still thought of him as Pedro. That’s exactly the kind of thing that made us all brothers in the first place.