And I do. I really do. I know my life could be so different, especially when I was a teenager on the streets alone. I could have been trafficked. I could have been bonded against my will and tied to some abusive assholes.
It’s just… now that I’ve seen how a home with a pack can be, I feel as though my life is lacking somehow. Even with the little bean growing in my belly, I feel hollow.
Probably because it’s not mine.
Okay, yeah, technically it is. Obviously. I mean, it has half my DNA.
But I’m not sure I can spend time with a son or daughter who looks like one of the men who now owns my heart. Not only that, but they could be there. I’ll have to smile and pretend as though they didn’t completely shatter me.
A frustrated groan leaves my mouth. I feel as though every thought in my head lately has either been selfish or needy as hell.
I’m not needy.
I mean, Iaman omega. I have needs. I need touch. I need knots. I need pheromones.
But since the day I walked through the home of Pack Anders, my entire being feels as though it’s changed.
Is that a thing? Can my molecular makeup be altered simply by finding my soul mates?
Because, whether I ever admit it to another living person, those three men are meant to be mine. I’m meant to be their omega. I’m meant to wear their bites on my skin.
The house phone rings, and I swear I jump at least a foot off my mattress. I was so lost in my thoughts I was finally starting to inch into that weird in between state of sleep and awake.
Not anymore. Now I’m wide fucking awake.
Throwing off the duvet, I shuffle to the phone that connects to the front desk and put it to my ear. “Yeah?”
“There is a gentleman in the lobby asking to be let up, sir,” the doorman says.
My brows pinch together. A gentleman? Desmond coming to once again beg me to come home?
“Let him up,” I say, and hope I don’t regret it.
Grabbing a t-shirt from the top of the pile of clothes in the hamper, I pull it over my head and pad barefoot to the front door, lifting onto my toes a little so I can watch through the peephole.
I should have asked who it was. This could very well be an alpha I fucked in the past thinking he could simply show up for a booty call. Not that any of them have ever done that but there’s always a first for everything.
Now my nerves are on edge. I can always call downstairs if it’s someone I don’t want to see. They can send security up to escort the visitor out of the building.
A few moments later, the elevator dings and I wait, watching through the hole as I struggle to keep the nervous whine from leaving my lips.
The moment dark blond hair and hazel eyes come into view, I release that whine, twisting all the locks out of place and ripping the door open before my brain can catch up to the rest of my body.
Alex doesn’t say a word, simply charges forward. I throw my arms around his neck the moment he’s close enough as he bends and slams his mouth over mine.
His arms wrap around my back, and he walks me into my apartment, kicking the door shut without breaking from the kiss.
This is wrong. Right? There’s this teeny, tiny voice in the back of my head that warns I’m merely setting myself up for more heartache.
But he smells so good. A satisfied purr rumbles from his chest when he lifts me, and I instantly wrap my legs around him. His pheromones are pulsing from him and practically wrapping around me like a cocoon.
His tongue pushes past the seam of my lips, turning the kiss frantic, desperate, hungry. It feels as though he’s pushing every emotion into the kiss.
Not necessary. I can feel him in every beat of my heart, feel him in the pulsing mark on my lip. Each caress against that scar sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through me until my dick is rock hard and I’m sure my boxers are soaked with slick.
Unlike with Des, I don’t break from the kiss to tell him to take me to bed.
Also unlike Des, Alex didn’t wait for my permission to kiss me, didn’t wait for me to close the distance.
