Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance

by Stephan James

  Each night, he combed through the same gay websites as before. It seemed like more and more people were joining each day, but he was never what they were looking for. The few times he found messages in his inbox, they were badly-written calls for sex that he just ignored. He wanted to just give up hope so that when a miracle happened he could be surprised and delighted, but that wasn’t the case. He was hopeful each time, and let down each time.

  Miracles only happen to the people who can afford them, he thought bitterly.

  He understood all along why things had to be the way they were with Mason, and he thought time and distance might make it a little better, but it never did. He hurt just as much every single day, carrying around an aching and empty heart inside him that only seemed to grow hollower by the hour.

  Then, three weeks after that fateful trip to the Caribbean, there was another knock at the door. No voice accompanied it, just a firm, steady knocking.

  He didn’t really feel like having any visitors right now so he just sat on the couch and waited for the knocker to leave. They didn’t, however. The knocking continued undisturbed.

  “Fine!” he shouted. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  Thrusting his laptop to the side, Ethan stood up and marched to the door. If this was a salesman or something, he was going to give him a choice word or two. Or ten judging on how he felt.

  “I’m here,” he growled and undid the chain on his door so that he could shove it open. “Look, I…Oh.”

  Mason stood there, looking contrite. “Ethan. Can I come in?”

  “No,” he said, and slammed the door shut.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have as much control in the matter as he thought. Mason grabbed the closing door with one wide hand and shoved it back open, and then slid inside and let go so that Ethan ended up slamming the door behind him.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ethan said. He was trying to be angry, trying to show that this was unacceptable, but his anger only stemmed from pain. “I didn’t say you could come in. I’m calling the cops.”

  “You aren’t,” Mason said calmly. His expression was stressed and exhausted, however. “You aren’t going to do anything but sit on the couch with me and let me explain why I’m here. I know that’s really what you want me to do, so why not do it?”

  “Because you’re hurting me,” Ethan whispered.

  “Not anymore. Please, sit down.”

  Reluctantly, he perched back down on his couch again and watched as Mason very quickly took stock of the room before also sitting. The couch practically buckled beneath his weight.

  “So, why are you here?”

  Mason took a deep breath and seemed to pull himself together with a great deal of difficulty. “Well, you see…Ethan, I told my father the truth.”

  His jaw dropped open. “No! You didn’t!”

  “I did!” Mason immediately got back up off the couch and started to pace, gesturing wildly with his hands. He looked like a barely-restrained wild animal. “I had to! I can’t live without you. I hardly know you at all yet and yet, everywhere I look, I see you. You won’t leave my mind, you and your silly little sense of humor. I miss your laugh. I miss you. I couldn’t take it, so I told him.”

  Ethan was shaking his head, still unable to believe this was happening. He had thought something was going to happen before and was betrayed by his own feelings. This time, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Bethany and I are ending the charade. We’ve already begun to work out the details with our lawyers so that she will continue to be provided with money by Grey Properties. It will work out for everyone.”

  “But…” Ethan stammered. “But what about you? It doesn’t work out well for you. You won’t get your inheritance! You’ll be cheated out of something you probably spent your whole life working for!”

  “I don’t care,” Mason growled. Just like that, he was back to being his normal self. “I want to be with you. I have never felt like this about another man. There’s some sort of connection. I need to be with you.”

  “Bethany said it’s because we’re opposites.”

  Mason shrugged. “What it is, I don’t know. All I know is whenever I think about you, you are mine. And I refuse to let this get in the way of that. We’ll find something else. I…I love you, Ethan. You are mine. All mine. And I will have you no matter what anyone says about it.”

  For a moment, all he could do was stand there and be dumbfounded. He’d thought miracles didn’t happen but here was one standing right in front of him.

  His body moved before his thoughts could catch up. He ran forward, wrapped his arms around Mason, and buried his face in his neck. “I love you,” he whispered.

  Mason folded his arms around him tightly, but then pushed him back to kiss him hard. It was rough and untamed, and exactly the way it was supposed to be.

  Things happened very quickly after that. There was no legal action yet from Mason’s father. In fact, there was no sign at all that the older man ever got the news about his son. That should have been good news, but it just left them both feeling incredibly on edge. At any moment, Mason could have his money cut off. They could have their feet knocked out from right beneath them, and it was terrifying.

  They were planning for that, however. For now, they both agreed it was best to keep their living spaces separate, but Mason had begun to shuffle some of his essentials over in preparation of the fateful cut-off they were both waiting for.

  As for their personal lives with everyone else, they were fully and truly out. They walked around holding hands and kissed in public. The media ate it up, and the entire company was gay-love-crazy. Well, for the most part anyway. As always, there were those who just didn’t approve. Some investors backed out. A few clients slipped away. Some workers quit. Mason began to receive religious pamphlets with his mail, and the questions thrown at him by the paparazzi were decidedly sexual in nature. But, there actually wasn’t as much fallout as they were expecting. As it just so happened, a good man was often still a good man no matter whether or not he was gay.

  At least that was some of the weight off their shoulders. And for everything else, they were happy. Actually, it was hard to find a happier couple in the world than they were. Business and work prevented them from always being together, and they couldn’t have sex as much as they wanted. And on top of that, they weren’t always able to spend the night with each other after that, which was terribly sad. But, they were together and that was all that mattered.

  “How are the divorce proceedings coming along?” Ethan asked one evening as they lounged around in his apartment eating pizza. He kept groaning about how it was all going to go straight to his hips. In reality, he didn’t care, but it made Mason laugh and tease him, so it was worth it.

  Mason devoured half his current slice in a single bite, and then licked sauce seductively from his lips. “Very well. Incredibly well. It’s helped by the fact that Bethany wants us to be together. As long as she still has the money she was promised, she doesn’t care.”

  “Is it possible to do that? I mean, what if…”

  Mason nodded in understanding. “It’s a bit complicated to explain but since my money is the company’s money…”

  Just then, Mason’s phone rang.

  Ethan glanced over at Mason’s pants, all the way on the other side of the room where they had been tossed earlier in the day. “Are you going to answer that?”

  “I suppose,” Mason sighed. He looked irritated. They know I am not to be bothered at this time of night.”

  “Maybe it’s an emergency?”

  Mason just grunted irritably, and then he slid off the couch and snatched up his pants. Ever the fierce tiger, he had a look on his face like he was about to rip the caller a brand new asshole no matter what the situation was. Then, he looked at the number and he immediately went from being a tiger to a kitten.

  Ethan swallowed hard at the stricken look on his partner’s face. “It’s your dad, isn’t it?”


  “Yes.”

  “Put it on speaker phone,” Ethan said, and quickly reached the remote to mute the TV. “I’ll stay real quiet.”

  “Ethan…”

  “Please? I know you’re too proud to tell me if he says something that hurts you, so let me hear it, too! I won’t say anything, I promise.”

  “Fine,” Mason growled, looking unhappy about the whole thing. But the phone had already been ringing for quite some time and there was nothing he could do but answer it. “Hello, Father,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “Would you like to come over for dinner?”

  Ethan’s eyes went wide. He gripped the couch just to keep from falling off of it. The man on the other end of the line sounded exactly like his son, with the same emotionless tone to his voice.

  Mason glanced over at Ethan, warning him to stay silent. “I’m afraid I already have plans for tonight, Father. Tomorrow, perhaps.”

  The elder Grey sighed. “Very well. Just be sure to bring along that boyfriend of yours. I need to meet him to see if he’s more suitable for you than that silly Bethany girl.”

  “Father?”

  “I read your announcement, Mason,” his Father said gruffly. “And I’m old, not blind or deaf. You two are all over the news these days. I don’t get what you see in that scrawny little boy, but you seem happy.”

  “I am,” Mason replied, his voice tight.

  “That’s important to me.”

  “But what about the investors we lost? The clients?”

  “You know as well as I do that those people who backed out on us were probably going to do it anyway. We just don’t have to waste time with them now, is all. It will take more than that to destroy Grey Properties. So, tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Mason managed to gasp out.

  “Good. I will see you then.”

  Just like that, the call ended.

  Ethan leapt to his feet and tossed his arms around Mason’s neck. “Yay!” he shrieked.

  Mason grabbed onto him and kissed him hard, then started to press him down against the couch. Ethan just grinned and lay back, eager for the love of his love to claim him. It wasn’t the most romantic setting, with the greasy smell of pizza in the air, but neither of them cared.

  The worst had happened and it wasn’t bad at all. Now, they could enjoy the rest of their lives together.

  The End

  Bad Professor

  Description:

  Johnathan

  Professor Devin is such a hard ass. I can’t believe I’m stuck being his research assistant all semester. If I wasn’t hard up for credits, I wouldn’t be dealing with his demands.

  He wants more, but that wasn’t part of the deal.

  He knows I’m straight and a virgin, but he’s determined to change that.

  He has more to worry about than my sexuality. Looks like Professor Devin has enemies and I’m in for more than I bargained.

  Professor Devin

  Johnathan thinks my class is hard and he doesn’t want to be my assistant, but he doesn’t have a choice.

  If he wants to graduate, I’m his only option.

  I don’t care about this job, but Jonathan has something I want and I’m in a position to get it.

  He thinks he’s straight, but he goes down too easy.

  **************************

  Chapter One

  Johnathan woke up half on the floor in the recreation room of his fraternity house. The other half of him was slung across a futon that had seen better days. Then again, the carpet had also seen better days. It was a fraternity and he didn’t know what he’d expected when he joined up, but it certainly hadn’t been this.

  Groaning, he pulled himself fully off the futon and onto the floor. The room spun around him as he flopped on his back, staring up at the dusty chandelier right above him. Flopping one arm across his face to block out the light glaring in through the windows, he wished that the chandelier would fall and impale him like it did to villains in movies. Anything to end this raging headache. That was his fault, though. The party last night had been pretty damn epic. Some sorority chicks snuck in this expensive bottle of vodka one of them lifted from their parents’ house.

  “Hey, Johnny,” a voice groaned beside him.

  Johnathan blinked rapidly and turned his head, and then waited for the world to stop hearing so he could recognize who lay on the floor beside him. His best friend lay there, curled up around a sour stomach. “Hey, Mitch,” he managed. The sour taste of last night’s alcohol made him grimace as he spoke. “What’s up? How you holding up?”

  Mitch let out a pitiful moan. It was funny to see the future star of the football team writhing with nausea on the floor, and Johnathan couldn’t help but to giggle a little. “Man, how can you talk so much right now?”

  Johnathan shrugged and started the long, laborious process of sitting up. He’d always been good at talking. It was one of his favorite hobbies and besides, he was pretty aware that he didn’t have any other talents. Hell, he was going to have to earn some extra credit just to be able to graduate so he definitely wasn’t smart, or athletic, or talented in any kind of art, but he thought he was pretty funny and he could talk his way into and out of almost any situation.

  Girls always seemed to like a guy who could make them laugh but he guessed that was just a friends thing, because he hadn’t landed one yet.

  Oh, well. The guys didn’t need to know that.

  Grabbing onto the futon, he hoisted himself all the way up to his feet and kept holding onto the furniture as the room spun around him. Slowly, the world settled down a bit and he could look around. His heart sank a little bit. Parties were great and all but clean-up was always a bitch. The recreation room was trashed, bottles and cups covering every available surface. Crushed chips had been all but fused with the carpet. Someone puked in the corner and then covered it up with an upside-down trashcan. His blasted frat brothers lounged around, and he could see a few wasted girls scattered around, too. And this was just one room. All three floors of the rest of the house was going to be like this and he was on cleaning crew this week. Sure, every guy was going to be responsible for his own room but it seemed like Johnathan was always put on the cleaning list for something.

  “My fault for being the house neat freak,” he muttered and started to pick his way out to the hall. He couldn’t help it, though. That was just how he was raised.

  “Yo! John! Man, we just saw that chick in your room.”

  “Huh?” he grunted, and turned to look at some of the guys as they crowded past him in the hallway, heading for the doors. “What…what girl?”

  One of them, Johnathan’s vision still too blurry to be able to tell them all apart, let out a crowing laugh. “Shit, you’re so hungover you can’t even remember! She looks like she was real good, though!”

  He wished that was the case but he knew he hadn’t done anything with anyone. “Yeah, sure,” he lied. “She was good.”

  His head pounding, he went back up to his room and there was definitely a girl on his bed. She was snoring and drooling, half-dead. Johnathan looked her over for a moment and tried to feel something, anything, but nothing happened.

  Probably just too tired, he said to himself. Besides, that would be wrong.

  Only then did he happen to look at the clock, and the time hit him like a sack of bricks thrown at his stomach. 8:30? He had class at 9! It was the start of the new semester and he reeked and everything.

  “Shit,” he swore, and grabbed some clothes from his drawers at random. Dress code be damned, he couldn’t screw this up if he wanted his major. No way was he going to miss this chance and have to get a summer job flipping burgers or something. No way.

  No time to shower. No time to do anything, not even brush his teeth. While stripping and throwing on some new clothes, he dabbed toothpaste on the tip of his tongue and swished it around his mouth. The taste made his stomach do flips, and he was stumbling all around the room, off-bal
ance. Way too much time went by before he was ready to go, but it was just going to have to do.

  He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he bolted out of the room, and grimaced for the second time. His hair looked awful, and he really needed to wash his face. Maybe he’d have time after class to take care of that stuff but he sure wished he could do it now. Personal upkeep was high on the list of things he was taught to always manage properly.

  The drunk girl in his bed hadn’t moved a muscle by the time he finally left the room. He really hoped she’d be gone when he came back though, although it was really starting to look unlikely. A lot of people weren’t even awake yet. Maybe a Sunday mixer to kick off a return to classes hadn’t been the best idea, because he really wasn’t having fun right now anymore.

  By the time he made it to the Life Studies building, it was already 9. The Biological Anthropology Theories class he was taking was all the way in the very back. He hoped the professors would give some kind of leeway because it was the first day but all he could hear all around was the voices of adult men and women from behind each door, which meant that classes were started.

  These were junior and senior classes, so what had he been expecting? He should have had his stuff together by now.

  Finally reaching his classroom, he grabbed the doorknob and threw it open, practically falling inside.

  “…for the third part of our time together, we will take a detour into the realm of Cultural Anthropology to examine societal norms. To name one example, punctuality. I assure you that punctuality and the development of expectations for others to uphold these conventions is going to be an interesting topic.”

  Very slowly, as he looked around with confusion, Johnathan realized he was being made fun of. By the professor, who stood there behind the podium with a paper in one hand and a pen raised to his thin lips.

  Whoa. Not what I was expecting.

  Professor Devan Magnus was nothing at all like the white-haired, grandfatherly figure he pictured. He was dressed in a smart, crisp white suit that strained across his broad shoulders, and the chiseled cut of his abs were clearly outlined. He was tanned, and one ear was pierced with a simple grey stone.