Mine.
Crush wanted to bend Killian over the nearest surface, and fill him again.
To stop himself from giving in to his instincts, Crush swept Killian off his feet in a bridal carry. He brought Killian to the kitchen and seated him at the breakfast nook. “I’ll make you lunch.”
But damn if Killian didn’t look good in Crush’s oversized bathrobe, his cheeks pink, his hair a mess.
As Crush collected ingredients from the fridge, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll say this first. You should take the time to think about this pregnancy. It’s your body; I won’t force you to keep the child.But.If you do keep it, I’ll be responsible for all the childcare and medical expenses. Food, shelter, whatever you can think of.”
Killian cracked a smile, his gaze warm. “I’m keeping the baby.”
Crush’s heart leaped. “Yeah? You like babies?”
Killian watched as Naddie crawled after a crumpled paper ball and tried to fit it into her mouth. “Enough to get one of my own without an alpha.”
Worry snaked into Crush’s chest. What if Killian decided to have this second baby on his own, without Crush’s help? Why would he trust an alpha again when he had been kidnapped by alphas—not once, but twice?
Suddenly nervous, Crush said, “I would like to build you a nest. It’ll be somewhere comfy you can snuggle in whenever you want.”
Killian perked up. “Really?”
“Yes. You can even decide which room you want it in.”
Killian chewed his lip. “Anywhere, I guess.”
“Even in my bedroom?”
The omega turned a bright red. “M-maybe?”
Oh, he was perfect.
Crush sliced up some bell peppers and popped them in the oven to roast, so they would get sweeter—omegas liked sweet things. He buttered some bread with the fancy salted butter that Killian had been eyeing at the store. He fried up a few eggs and sliced more veggies, before assembling the sandwiches: bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, and some salad dressing.
“Eggs okay?” Crush asked.
Killian nodded. “Cheese too.”
When the bell peppers were done roasting, Crush added them to the sandwiches. Two fried eggs went on each sandwich pile—plus a heap of sliced roast beef for his own. He topped them off with grated hard cheese, and capped them with toasted buttered bread.
Right before serving, Crush sliced each sandwich diagonally, and brought them to the serving nook with cans of soda.
“That looks good,” Killian moaned.
His moan did things to Crush’s alpha parts that were decidedlynotlunch-friendly.
Crush growled. “Mine or yours?”
“Mine!” Killian made grabby hands, so eager that Crush’s instincts rumbled again. He was providing for his omega.
Killian raised the sandwich to his mouth and paused.
“What’s wrong?” Crush asked.
“You made it really big,” Killian blurted. “It won’t fit.”
There was a pregnant silence.
Their eyes met, and Killian cringed hard. “Fuck. I mean, uh. You made the sandwich... really thick. No! That sounds wrong too. My mouth can’t open that wide. See?”
