Hal came around to the front and after kissing me senseless, sat down on the shower bench and took me into his mouth. His lips pressed against my groin as my dick bobbed at the back of his throat. He grabbed and kneaded my ass cheeks, but I needed more. I needed to be filled by him.
He pulled back with a pop, and I whined. “You need this, omega, or something more?”
“More,” I almost yelled in desperation.
“Come on, then. I’m afraid you’re going to slip.” He took my hand and guided me to the bed. “Lie down, mine. Show me that ass.”
I scooted to the edge of the bed, on my back, and wiggled a little just for him.
“It’s going to be quick, omega. I need you so badly.”
I nodded and reached down to stroke myself as he watched. The bulb of his head was at my entrance and my tight circle throbbed in need.
“Get inside me, alpha. Now.”
And he did. He used his stance to slam into my ass over and over while I worked my own cock and pinched my ever-sensitive nipples.
Not even ten strokes and we were both done and out of breath.
“Now we have to get cleaned up again. Shame on you,” I teased getting back into the shower and washing off the evidence of our quickie.
We got dressed, and Hal made himself some coffee before taking off. Tanger was about an hour away, so Hal sang to me softly along the way, careful not to strain his voice.
Since he was a last-minute addition, they didn’t have a backstage pass for me, which was fine since I had my eye on funnel cake anyway.
“I’ll wait in the audience.”
Hal seemed nervous and stuttered. “O-okay, but I want you to see me sing. I’m trying out some new songs.”
“I’ll be there, my love. But first, funnel cake.”
I went to the first stand I saw and ordered a fresh one, covered in powdered sugar, strawberry sauce, and drizzled with Nutella.
Again, there was fruit.
Somewhere.
I found a place near the stage and dug in while they announced Hal. He graciously took the mic and began to sing “Africa,” the song I’d heard quite a bit in the lounge. I gorged on my fried goodness, swaying in place while I did. I’d just licked the chocolate off my fingers when I heard the music stop. I looked up to see Hal, staring directly at me.
“Kipling Taylor, this song is for you.”
He started to sing, and I realized not only was the song new to him, but it was new to everyone.
My mate was singing a song he’d written himself.
The lyrics were straight out of our story and made into a melody. I blubbered like an idiot right there in front of everyone. When he finished, the crowd went nuts.
Yeah, my man was a celebrity.
“One more thing and then I’m done for the night. Kipling Taylor, my love, the father of our babe in your belly. Make me the happiest singer in the world and marry me?”
He bent down on one knee and in his hand was a box. The glint of what was inside was set off by the stage lights.
I began to sweat and felt my face turn to flame. The edges of my vision got blurry and before I knew it, the world went dark.
Chapter Seventeen
Hal
Kipling said yes. Of course, he fainted first and might have hurt himself and the baby, if not for the kindness of an alpha who happened to be behind him in the crowd and stopped him from hitting the ground. And I tried to suppress the flare of jealousy that I hadn’t been there to save him myself, but it was all good in the end. They passed him forward like some kind of crazed fans and he woke before he got to the stage, where I took him in my arms and kissed him until we were both dizzy and nearly made even more of a spectacle of ourselves by both fainting.
But he wore my ring now, or would at least until it got a little tighter.
It had taken me forever to write the song and longer to get the opportunity to use it to propose to my omega, but now, with him weeks from delivering, we were going to march down the aisle and take vows.
“Hal, I can’t button my shirt!” My calm, competent counselor of a betrothed was feeling the swelling in his middle. He’d continued to work out at the gym as long as he could, but for the past few weeks he’d had to give in and accept it was a lost cause. It hadn’t helped when he’d watched the ninja games on television, the first time in nearly a decade he hadn’t participated, and his number-one rival won.
“I told you to buy the shirt bigger. Let me see if we can make it work.” I hotfooted it into the bathroom before he could get any more upset than he already was. A little adjusting and a hidden safety pin, and we’d managed to resolve the issue. “Just don’t take too deep a breath or you may send buttons popping all over the chapel.”
His eyes glistened with tears. “I’m so fat, I don’t know why you even want to marry me.”
I leaned past his belly and nipped at his pouting lower lip. “I’m in it for the money.”
He stumbled back. “What? You are the deep pockets now, with that record contract.”
“And if I hadn’t learned that I had it in me to write a song—which I only did to propose to you, my sweet omega, that record producer wouldn’t have heard it and offered me that contract.” I’d been in the studio ever since, when I wasn’t trying to dig out more songs. Turned out I had a knack!
He sniffled. “That’s true.”
“Darn right. Now.” I turned him to face the mirror and wrapped my arms around his middle, hands splayed on the big tummy that held our child. “What do you think? Don’t we make a handsome couple?”
Despite the tear track on his cheek, his smile lifted. “Considering one of us looks like he ate a basketball...not bad at all.”
I massaged the roundness. It was already lower than it had been, the midwife assuring us he looked great and that we were on track for a textbook delivery. “That basketball is our child. Show a little respect.” The kicks under my palms echoed the sentiment. “Now, let’s get going. If we wait much longer, our child will be a guest at the wedding.”
“At least then his daddy might have his sexy figure in the wedding pictures.”
Chuckling, I guided him before me out of the bathroom and all the way to the car.
The front of the chapel was decorated with an arch of roses and daisies and tiny red berries that were supposed to represent the cranberries we’d eaten at our first meeting. We strolled down the aisle together, as we would continue to march into life. Soon with a child holding both our hands and swinging along as well. But for today, we were still a couple, one making vows about eternal love and taking care of each other. Nothing we couldn’t and wouldn’t do without a public ceremony, but our love felt so big, we wanted to share it with everyone we cared about. Patrick and his family, a whole lot of the kids Kipling counseled, his family, Suzi from the dental office, and her new girlfriend...everyone.
Almost.
I’d agonized over whether to invite my dads. My brother was overseas dealing with something for a client or he’d have come. And in the end, I’d tossed the invitation in the wastebasket because I didn’t need to give my dads an opportunity to reject me.
Fingers linked, we passed each pew, nodding to acknowledge our friends. Even the regulars from the Moonlight Lounge had shown up, taking up a block of seats in the middle, dressed as if they’d be heading out to the clubs immediately after the reception.
Kipling’s folks, sister and brother and cousins included, occupied the left front row, all beaming and giving us little waves. They had catered for us, as well, as their gift, so we knew everyone would eat well.
The scent of flowers was heady, the piano player who alternated at the lounge with me providing classical music that gave an air of elegance to the event, and the minister at the front smiled at us as if she’d never been happier to preside over any ceremony. As we passed the first row, Kipling bumped my shoulder and nodded to the right and my head spun. There they sat,
my dads in suits that cost more than my car.
“How?” I asked the man about to become my husband.
“I found the invitations in the trash,” he whispered. “And hand-delivered them.”
My heart swelled with love for this man. I flicked a glance at them again, and my dads were smiling, looking as proud as any fathers of the groom ever would. And perhaps they were. I’d finally succeeded in my profession even if it hadn’t been the one they’d chosen for me.
I tried to resent them for it, but I couldn’t. Today, I could feel only happiness, joy, and elation. I gave my dads a nod, and they returned it, before I mounted the steps and took vows to love, honor, and cherish Kipling as long as we both should live.
We exchanged rings and then we kissed to seal the bargain. “I love you,” I murmured before pressing my lips to his, and kept them there until laughter from the congregation brought us back to reality.
“Excuse me,” the minister whispered close to me. “But I think you’ve got a problem.”
I drew back from my new husband to see him staring at me with wide eyes. He gestured to the floor where a puddle around his shoes indicated we wouldn’t be making it to the reception. I winked at him and turned him with me to face our guests. “Folks, we will have to make a little side trip, but don’t let that stop you from partying. Looks like we’ll have something else to celebrate tonight.”
Chapter Eighteen
Kipling
If Jane said everything was going to be fine one more time, she’d be on her way to the emergency room with a socked jaw.
“It doesn’t feel fine,” I said, tightening my jaw, thinking about clocking hers.
I lay in her birthing room inside her cottage-like house. She wouldn’t let me see the room on my other visits, claiming it would be the best surprise.
It was beautiful, but I would’ve enjoyed it much more when a baby wasn’t trying to Alien movie right through my butthole.
“Breathe in and out. Lean on your alpha for support and love.”
I looked at Hal who, if possible, looked more mortified than me. Lean on him my ass.
“Can you not look so terrified? The babe is coming out of me, not you,” I sniped at Hal, wanting him to snap out of it. My attitude was wretched.
All that mumbo jumbo about the baby being born in a serene atmosphere had gone to shit when the first contraction hit me.
The swell of back pain grew until I almost ripped Hal’s sleeve right off his shirt.
“Omega mine, breathe. It will help. Please.” His voice cracked, and my heart did along with it.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked him as he stared at my belly.
“I’m...I’m utterly helpless. This is the one thing in life I can’t help you with, or carry part of the burden. It’s killing me. But this isn’t about me. This is about our baby girl.”
We hadn’t learned the sex of the babe, but Hal had been calling it a daughter for a few weeks now.
“Your babe is fine and healthy. You can help him by breathing with your omega. Remember your classes.”
Another part of Jane’s practice was teaching natural birth classes. Both of us had attended, but it seemed like so long ago.
“I can do that.” From that point on, Hal was with me. We breathed together, and I hated to admit it did help with the waves of pain.
It went on for three hours before Jane gasped and did a little clap. Again—emergency room danger for her. Labor made me violent.
“You’re fully dilated. And I see the hair of a babe. Time to push, Daddy.”
Hal’s eyes widened, and he smiled at me, still holding onto my hand. “Let’s do this, Kipling. Let’s make a family.”
I pushed hard three times before I felt the whoosh of weight leave my body and heard the first cry of my babe.
She was here.
Or he was here. Either one.
“You have a daughter, Kipling and Hal. Ten fingers and toes and hungry as all get-out. A few minutes on your chest and then I have to clean her up. I’ll step out.”
I loved that woman.
She put our daughter on my chest and immediately the crying ceased. With an open mouth, the babe rooted around, but a good cleanup was necessary.
She had a head full of red curly hair and perfect heart-shaped lips.
I bet she was a star just like her daddy.
“Hal?” I asked, looking at him looking at her. Tears rolled down his cheeks while he gently touched her toes sticking out through the linen blanket.
“I can’t believe she’s ours. Look what you made, omega.”
With my finger, I tipped his chin up. “Look what we made. This is our family now.”
He nodded and Jane came back in, now clean again and holding a small tub of water. She took our babe from us, and the little girl protested—hard. She had a set of lungs for sure.
After cleaning her up, Hal sat with her in a chair next to my bed. He whispered all kinds of things to her while Jane helped to clean me up and onto the other side of the bed, the clean part. In minutes, the room was empty again with fresh sheets and my family.
We’d done it.
Who knew that the man I watched sing every night and dreamed about every day would be the father to my child.
That he would love me the way he did.
“What’s her name?” I asked.
Hal didn’t take his eyes off her until she began to wiggle and get frustrated at the sound of my voice. He brought her over to me, and she took to my breast like a champ.
“How about Amber?” he answered and then shrugged.
“Amber is lovely, Hal.”
“Amber was the name of my grandmother.” He gave a soft smile. “When my dads made things hard, I always knew she’d be there for me.”
“Amber it shall be,” I cooed at the babe now losing steam. Her little eyes drooped as she fell asleep in my arms.
“Are you hurting?” Hal asked me, pushing a stray hair from my face.
“A little but not like I thought it would be. I do wish I was in our bed.”
He nodded. “Jane said you could go home today if you want. You are healthy, the birth was normal, and Amber is healthy and strong. No reason to stay.”
I hadn’t heard her say that. Then again, I was in a post-labor baby fog and loving every second of it.
We waited for Jane to type up the information on Amber’s birth. She would send off for an official birth certificate and do all of the necessary paperwork.
Hal wrapped his arms around us both while she did.
“I’ve loved you every second since I met you, Kipling. I’ll love you always,” he said, and kissed my temple.
“You have my love for life,” I responded and nestled into his embrace.
Epilogue
Hal
If it took me a long time to get to propose...and we’d managed to get married just a few hours before Kipling gave birth to our beautiful Amber, by the time we gathered our family and friends together for a welcome baby party and take-two reception, it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving when everyone could make it for a Friendsgiving celebration.
I’d had no idea what my album drop would entail and had been traveling some, and working more. Kipling had stepped right up, moving his office to the house. Kristin embraced her expanded role as secretary/nanny. It started innocently enough with an hour here and there, but before we knew it, she had a baby wonderland next to her desk, and she and her little buddy greeted all the children who came to see Dr. Taylor.
It was unconventional, but we liked it that way.
For our big party, Kipling’s family once again catered. Their food had been a huge hit at the reception we had been unable to attend, and after hearing the rave reviews from all the guests, we’d requested a repeat with the addition of a few classic Thanksgiving flavors. The weather had cooperated, but we had heaters for the big white tents in the yard just in case. Tables groan
ed under their burdens of roasted, smoked, and grilled turkey, ham, and prime rib, duchess potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, and so many other dishes. In addition to the cranberry-spice wedding cake towering toward the ceiling, we offered a selection of seasonal pies. Pecan, pumpkin, chocolate silk... We didn’t want anyone to leave hungry.
“In a way, it’s kind of nice we have to have a reception 2.0,” Kipling said, as I wrapped my arms around him. His basketball belly was a thing of the past and he was well into training for the next ninja games—although he’d surrendered any thought of training me—but he was taking a day off to eat everything in sight.
“And why is that, my omega,” I asked, embracing the hard, hot body he once again possessed.
“Because Amber gets to be here.”
And that was everything. “It’s not a party without Amber,” I agreed. “In fact, where is our daughter?” She’d been being passed around all afternoon, and didn’t seem to mind in the least.
“Look.” Kipling pointed to a table against the wall of the tent where my two dads and my brother sat. They were crooning and baby talking to our beautiful girl. “Well who’d ever guess.”
I couldn’t say our relationship was perfect, but since Miss Amber arrived, my dads had stopped by several times with toys and gifts, and I had a little hope.
“You know,” I told him, nuzzling his ear, “I never figured out how you were so sure my dads would agree to be at our wedding to start with.”
“You didn’t, huh, alpha?” He tipped his head back to look at me. “They did RSVP.”
“You little devil. How did you know it wouldn’t turn into a mega cluster? I told you they hated me.”
“Yeah well.” He stepped from my embrace and led me outside into the autumn afternoon. The sky was a big blue bowl with only a few little clouds scattered as if they’d been placed there by an artist. “I didn’t believe anyone could hate you, and I wanted all our family together. They’re coming for Christmas you know.”
The Alpha's Cranberry-Kissed Omega Page 7