by Aiden Bates
Mitch and I busied ourselves with pulling off Marcos’s clothes, revealing more and more of his firm body while lingering over his warm, soft skin. Then, more surprisingly, Marcos helped Mitch undress me. Obviously, our sex had an objective, and often that meant the most important part of this connection was Mitch and Marcos. Now, I shivered as Marcos undid my shirt and skimmed his rough hands across the vulnerable skin of my stomach as he eyed me appreciatively. Oh.
He seemed more confident than he had been previously, and instead of taking up his perch on the chair in the corner, we all got into bed together. As Mitch and Marcos started kissing, gravitating toward each other, I watched them like I hadn’t been able to do before. I’d heard more than one alpha from work talk about how hard it was to control yourself during an omega’s heat. Hell, I’d been with more than one alpha who’d used that as an excuse to explain how forceful and rough they became in the bedroom. Marcos wasn’t like that at all. He cupped Mitch’s jaw gently, and Marcos’s touches as he teased Mitch’s chest and nipples were reverent, focused on pulling breathy moans from Mitch’s lips rather than his own pleasure.
Eventually, it became impossible to know whose hands were where. Mitch’s scent was building to the point it was difficult to focus on anything other than the pheromones blooming in the room, and I started reveling not only in his scent, but of Marcos’s darker, woodier essence. The two scents complimented each other, and I moved closer to both of them, skimming my palm around the back of Mitch’s neck to inhale even more of his delicious aroma. Mitch smiled, and then lay on his side with me facing him. Marcos positioned himself behind Mitch then propped his leg up slightly. Without hesitating, obviously knowing Mitch was ready, Marcos entered him.
“Oh, god. Marcos. Perfect,” Mitch moaned. Marcos chuckled in response and immediately started moving.
Pressed up to Mitch’s front I could feel the expansion and contraction of his chest as he breathed. Eyes closed, swollen lips parted, his usually neat hair looking like someone had raked their fingers through it several times, it was clear he was enjoying what Marcos was doing to him. Wanting to give him a similar pleasure, I angled myself so my cock slotted up beside Mitch’s, and with every forward thrust from Marcos, I rolled my hips to meet Mitch and grind against him. Mitch’s eyes flickered open once we found a rhythm that seemed to satisfy all three of us, and he tilted his head enough to tangle his mouth with mine. I held him there, kissing him over and over, swallowing every one of the groaning whines Marcos forced out of him.
“God, how the fuck is that so fucking gorgeous?” Marcos groaned. “You two are like every teenage alpha’s wet dream. Holy shit.” As we’d gotten more comfortable with one another, it’d become clear that Marcos was vocal during sex, appreciative, sometimes filthy. I couldn’t speak for Mitch, but for my own part I liked it.
I pulled back to look at Mitch and raise an eyebrow, hoping he understood what I was getting at before glancing up at Marcos who was peering down from us from over Mitch’s shoulder.
I shouldn’t have worried. Mitch nodded and angled his head to allow Marcos to kiss him. Marcos managed to maneuver himself to meet Mitch’s mouth, kissing him messily as he continued to piston his hips. When Mitch broke off the kiss to lean his head back against Marcos’s broad shoulder, I leaned forward and captured Marcos’s mouth with mine. I hadn’t kissed him before, and I could instantly see I’d been missing out. Marcos kissed like he was starving. I could taste the familiarity of Mitch in that kiss, but there was also something else. Something new, dark and tempting.
I’d never been the focus of his attention like this, and if I was being brutally honest with myself, there was some deeply selfish sliver that wondered whether or not Marcos found me attractive. It was silly. That wasn’t the point of all of this, but still, I was omega enough to occasionally want the attention of the alpha in the room. Apparently, if the way Marcos growled and pushed forward to claim more of my mouth was any indication, I shouldn’t have worried.
When the kiss ended, it was like the paradigm had changed. Before, things had been focused on the goal we were all here to achieve, now the focus shifted from a delightful if awkward and strange time making a baby, to something more animal and primal. My brain was too addled by the swirl of lust induced hormones to break that apart and analyze it just now. Instead, I gave myself over to it and just concentrated on feeling it. Marcos redoubled his efforts, fucking into Mitch with a new vigor, and I started rolling my hips into Mitch again, slipping my hand between us to palm both of our swollen cocks. I could feel my orgasm building behind my balls, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t control it any longer. I watched as Mitch quickly approached the same place, his breath stuttering before he bit his lip. With a few more well-placed thrusts he was coming all over my hand, my cock. It was all I needed before my vision grayed and I felt the breathtaking waves of my own orgasm take over. After a few moments I gained just enough awareness to watch as Marcos keened and sank his cock as deep as it could go to fill Mitch with cum.
Several heartbeats later, it was Marcos who broke the silence.
“Well, that was interesting.” I could hear the wry humor in his voice. He was usually so stilted after the sex was over. It was nice to see this side of him.
“If by interesting you mean the best fucking sex I’ve ever had,” Mitch said before looking at me as if he’d said something wrong. He hadn’t. It was fucking amazing. I was definitely willing to admit it.
“Yeah, it was…intense,” Marcos said.
“One word for it,” Mitch agreed. “Ugh, what’s really intense is this fucking mess you two made of me. Look at me!”
Mitch was covered in red hickies. His hair was a haystack. And his front was completely covered in cum and sweat.
“I’m definitely taking a shower,” he said before crawling his way out of the bed. Marcos and I snickered at his insistence, but Mitch just rolled his eyes before gliding, albeit with the slightest limp neither of us would ever dare mention, to the doorway. He was almost out of sight when he sighed. “Are you two coming or what?”
I looked over at Marcos who just laughed. “Come on, el jefe has spoken.”
I’d never been more thankful for the shower in this house. Mitch would probably dismiss the accusation, but my love was a hedonist in that way. Good food, nice linens, and a truly marvelous shower were all requirements if Mitch was going to be truly happy somewhere. Oh, he’d make do in lesser accommodations, but he’d always talked about how wonderful some of the showers had been in the suites where he’d sometimes met other clients, and I’d known my little rinky-dink shower in the Charlotte apartment had left much to be desired. Now, with three people all vying for room, I was grateful for the expansive space and its many showerheads.
Marcos pulled Mitch toward him, and before I could tell Marcos that I couldn’t possibly imagine having sex again this soon, he pulled Mitch’s fluffy loofah from his hands and started quietly washing his chest. I certainly hadn’t expected that, but it was…perfect? It shouldn’t have been, but it was. It was one thing to have sex with someone, but it was another thing entirely to wash their neck and shoulders as Marcos was doing now. I felt the corners of my mouth pull up, and then grabbed another washcloth and got to work.
“Now, this is something I could get used to,” Mitch murmured, holding out his arms.
“You were a spoiled house cat in another life,” Marcos said, teasing.
“I’m a spoiled house cat in this life, darling,” Mitch replied.
Eventually, Mitch was entirely clean, and the two of them shared a look before deciding I was next. It was luxurious, indulgent in a way I often didn’t allow for myself. It was so easy to indulge Mitch. Mitch begged to be indulged. It fed some part of him that had been denied during his childhood. Still, there was something to be said for it. Mitch thread his nimble fingers through my curls as he washed them, and Marcos focused on washing my body. We both watched as he moved the cloth down my chest t
o my stomach to wash off the last remnants of cum from my skin. He hesitated before sliding the cloth lower to my soft cock. He hadn’t batted an eye at doing so with Mitch, but I imagined this felt different, and I understood his hesitancy. Wordlessly, I kissed his jaw. It wasn’t sexual. It was meant to reassure him. That this was okay. He gave a brief nod, and then cleaned me carefully, watching my face to make sure I wasn’t uncomfortable with it. When he was finished and the moment was passed, I caught Mitch’s gaze. There was curiosity and a little interest in his eyes, but no animosity about what he’d seen.
We set about washing Marcos last, and after Mitch and I cleaned him from head to toe, the water heater finally started to give out, so we quickly got out, the room so steamy we could hardly see.
We all ended up in the living room to wait to see if Mitch’s heat would flare up again. As we waited, Marcos filled us in on everything that was happening with his brother, plus his plan to ask his mother to come out to lunch with him and Mitch. It was part and parcel of convincing her that in the event of Mitch becoming pregnant, Marcos was the father of the baby. Obviously both Mitch and I were on board with that, though Marcos hadn’t discussed the details of what he was going to tell his mother. Neither had any of us discussed what was going to happen after the baby was born. Under the circumstances it could be possible Marcos’s mother would want to have access to her grandbaby. Did that mean Marcos wanted to as well? I guess that was something else we all needed to discuss at some time, but not right now. Now, I was filled with the same anxiety I felt after every wave of Mitch’s heat, eager to see whether or not we were finally at the end of it.
In the late afternoon, we were still waiting. Suddenly, Marcos seemed to have an epiphany.
“Your heat is definitely done,” Marcos said.
“What?” I asked.
Mitch considered for a second, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think it could be.”
I felt my heartbeat kick up, but I tried to remind myself that it didn’t necessarily mean Mitch was pregnant. I’d been with him long enough to know that this wasn’t a particularly short heat. I leaned into him and noticed Mitch’s scent was unquestionably more muted than it had been in the past few days.
“Well, on that note, I better be heading out,” Marcos stated. In a few minutes, he was gone again.
The rest of the evening passed quietly, and it was still fairly early when Mitch guided me toward the bed. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until he was pulling the blankets up around my chest and slipping into bed beside me. As we lay in the darkness of our bedroom I was able to process not just what it was we’d done, but also how it had affected me.
“You know, I really do like Marcos,” I said, trying to broach the topic as I thought about the way things were different today, like the way he’d asked for permission with his eyes as he washed me.
“I thought you would. He’s always been a nice guy. I’m glad we can help him,” Mitch said, stroking my back slowly as we wrapped around each other. “I have to admit though, I’m relieved.”
“About?” I asked, looking up at him.
“It’s difficult, sometimes,” Mitch explained. “You know, seeing your person with someone else. In the business, I’ve been where Marcos has been. Omegas deciding they want to give their alpha a fantasy and then realizing when it’s there with them in living color they just can’t go through with it. Been kicked out of more than one bed that way.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t difficult for me. I guess I should be jealous, but I… Well, I just can’t bring myself to be.”
“Why is that?” Mitch asked.
“Well, like I said, I like him. And I like the way he treats you in bed. He’s careful with you, you know? Like being with you meant something to him. I can’t really be angry with someone who’s treating you the way I think you deserve to be treated.”
Mitch wiggled down into the bed a bit, coming face to face with me and stroking my cheek. “That’s fine. Really. So long as you know you’re my one, right? You still feel that way, don’t you?” I could see the worry in his face. Of course he’d be worried about it. He’d spent too long around fickle clients who in a moment could decide they didn’t want him anymore.
“Of course I do. I know that. I don’t doubt that. I don’t doubt you. But I’m not saying… Well, to be honest, I’m not really sure what it is I’m not saying.”
Mitch chuckled. “It’s alright. I know we talked about it beforehand, but it’s been a lot to take in for both of us.” He got closer and closer to me. I knew by now what he was after and I guided him onto my chest. “Marcos is a good man, though. He always has been. If it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was him.”
Heat was always fun, but it was also absolutely exhausting, and it wasn’t long before Mitch was dead asleep against me. I admired the firm line of his jaw, the gold sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks. I loved him so much, and I wondered if my reaction to Marcos was because I enjoyed watching Mitch lose himself in the throes of his own pleasure, or if it was because I’d genuinely liked watching Mitch’s influence on Marcos as he’d slowly come back to life from the almost zombie state he’d been in. It was complicated, all of this. I’d never done anything like it, and I felt completely out of my depth. I wasn’t sure where the line was drawn.
To be honest, I wasn’t really sure whether there was a line at all.
10
Marcos
My leg was jiggling up and down so hard I was vibrating the table, even nailed down as it was. We were sitting at Cireno’s and were maybe fifteen or twenty minutes away from the most important conversation I could ever imagine having in my life.
“I think I’d feel better if we were actually…you know, sure,” I said to Mitch who was sitting to my left in a chair pulled close to me.
“Probably not,” Mitch said softly, as he used a straw to stir the ice in his glass of water.
“We should have sat down and planned this better,” I whispered to Mitch as I watched the door, expecting to see Mami pushing through it any second now. Pedro would have made me plan it. Pedro would have thought it was ridiculous that I didn’t sit down and think about what I was going to say before I said it. I’d imagined this meeting though, and it had seemed so easy. I would introduce Mami to Mitch, tell her about the baby, and tell her why that meant Pedro should get more time. Mami would agree, Pedro would be saved, and things would be fine. Or, of course, Mami wouldn’t agree, Pedro wouldn’t get his stay of execution, and then nothing would ever be alright again. But that was still generally how I pictured things going.
Instead, there was no baby yet as far as we knew, the whole idea seemed like a long-shot, and I felt like Mami was going to see through us as soon as she walked through the door.
“We should have come up with something to say. We should have—I don’t know—gone over stuff like what side of the sink you keep your toothbrush on. Couple stuff,” I told Mitch, still not peeling my gaze off the door to Cireno’s.
“No,” Mitch answered without looking up from what he was texting on his phone. “No, it’s better this way.”
“Better how?” I asked sharply before catching myself and turning to Mitch. “Sorry, sorry. Just nervous. That’s all.”
Mitch didn’t seem offended. Instead, he was chuckling softly like he both couldn’t believe how funny this was but also didn’t want to laugh too obviously.
“How can you laugh at a time like this?” I asked, craning my neck to check for Mami again.
“Relax.” Mitch reached over to curl his arm under mine. Arms linked, he pulled himself close to me and stretched enough to where he could bring his lips to my cheek. He didn’t kiss me, though. He placed his lips softly at my cheek and waited for a few seconds. I didn’t understand what he was doing, but before I could turn my head to ask him what he was up to, he spoke.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered before pecking my cheek softly. I wrinkled my forehead at him, but he was already scooting h
is chair a few inches away, ducking his face with a shy smile as he did so. A shy smile? When had Mitch ever been shy about anything?
Mitch looked past me, smiled broadly, and held his hand out.
“Mrs. Acosta! How nice to finally meet you!”
I whipped my head around to find my mother standing at our table.
“Marcos?” Mami asked with an expression on her face that showed as much confusion as I was feeling.
“Mami!” I said, jumping up in an attempt to stand, only to hit my knees against the table. Obviously, jumping up wasn’t going to work, so I forced myself to calm down as much as I could and stood up. I walked around the table to pull out Mami’s seat for her. She sat down and let me push her chair in, but the whole exchange only seemed to make her more suspicious.
“Mami,” I said, clearing my throat nervously and sitting back down again. “Mami. Thank you for coming. This is—”
“Mitch!” Mitch stuck both hands out and wrapped her hand into a handshake. “Mitch Thompson. I’ve been dying to meet you, Mrs. Acosta.”
“Yes,” Mami said, carefully, looking between Mitch and me with her eyes narrowed. Mami wasn’t the type of person to try to be rude, though, so she made herself smile briefly as she pulled her hand back. “Strange that we haven’t met before, Mitch.”
“Oh, I know!” Mitch said, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I said the same thing! I told him over and over again that if we were going to date seriously then I should obviously meet you. But, you know, he’s so hard to pull out into the light of day. Right?”
Mami blinked once, blinked again, and looked at me and the shocked expression I must have been making. Though things had started off tense, Mami immediately jumped on the opportunity to talk about how I should leave the hospital more often, how skinny I’d gotten, how tired I looked and so on. Mitch agreed, talked about making me breakfast, making me sleep, and dragging me away from Pedro’s room. Mami shared that I had even ignored her arroz con pollo when she dropped it off at the room for me. Mitch acted like he was horribly offended on her behalf and shared that he loved arroz con pollo almost as much as he liked tamales, and pretty soon, Mami had shared her double-secret tamale recipe, Mitch was talking about his grandmother’s meatloaf, then his grandmother, and suddenly the two of them were better friends than I’d ever thought possible.