“Good. He owes me. It’s not going to be a big deal if you’re late.”
“Are you planning to make me late?” Vincent asked. He narrowly dodged bumping into the arm of a couch, his thighs still under protest of the workout he’d just given them.
Mal looked over his shoulder. In the low light of the apartment, his eyes gleamed. “Yes.”
24
Mal
By the time they were done, Mal had introduced Vincent to the arm of his couch, the corner of his shower stall, and the comfort of his bedsheets. Vincent, with his hair damp from the shower and his body loosened by sex, pulled Mal into his arms as they recuperated, kissed the top of his head, and said, “I am now, officially, one hundred percent done.”
“I don’t blame you.” Mal wrinkled his nose and burrowed against Vincent’s chest. The only trace of omega in the room was himself—Vincent was an alpha, fully and irrefutably. His actions tonight had proved it. He’d devoted himself to every one of Mal’s needs, even when he seemed too exhausted to go on. “I’m pretty done, too. You’ve worn me out.”
“Mm.” Vincent kissed the top of his head again. “Well, I’m sure that will change tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“If I’m going to knock you up, I’m going to need to breed you regularly, Daddy.” Vincent smirked against his scalp. “It’s not going to do us any good if I say I’m going to knock you up, then don’t have sex with you.”
Despite how many times Mal had already come that night, a shiver shot through his groin, and his balls ached in protestation. When Vincent talked like that, he was irresistible. “You should probably stop talking like that for now—unless you want round, god, what is it? Five?”
“I’m down for the count, but I could always get you off, if that’s what you need.” Vincent unleashed Mal from his hold and sank back onto the bed, face up. “That was… probably the best sexual experience of my life.”
“Is it lame if I say ditto?”
“No one says ditto anymore.” Vincent snorted a laugh and turned his head just enough to look at Mal. He was grinning. “But, it’s not lame of you to say it. Not at all. Especially if it means you’ll see me again sometime soon.”
“Wasn’t that a given?” Mal arched an eyebrow. “I’m seeing you tomorrow… in less than twelve hours from now, in fact.”
“Shit, you’re right.” Vincent sat up, squeezed his eyes shut as if to try to do away with dizziness, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose. During their migration through the house, they’d shed the rest of their clothing, and Vincent was nude. “I need to go. Gwynn’s gonna kill me.”
“Gwynn?”
“Um, Laurence.” Vincent shook his head. “It’s a nickname.”
“Oh.”
Moonlight streamed through the windows, bathing Vincent in its glow. In its pale radiance, his skin shone, every muscle contoured by shadow. He may have been slender when compared to some of the men that Mal had seen nude during his life, but he found Vincent hauntingly handsome—a dream manifested on the physical plane in looks and in deportment. Mal took a moment to appreciate him and found himself smiling without meaning to.
As wild as Vincent was in the bedroom, he was sweet and honest, eager to please. Mal had no doubt that at the first sign of reluctance, Vincent would stop. He was a gentleman the likes of which Mal had never seen—a nurturer, and yet, a provider. How could he ask for more?
“We met online,” Vincent explained. He stretched from side to side, likely giving his body time to warm back up after all they’d done that evening. “I wrote an ad on a parenting forum looking for single dads, and it so happened that Laurence came across my post and got in touch. At first, there was a swarm of us, but in the first few weeks, a bunch of people dropped out of contact or vanished, until just the core group remained. We’ve been best friends ever since. When we found out Laurence was getting married, we pretty much told him that if he didn’t invite us, we were going to crash the party regardless.”
“The Single Dad Support Group?” Mal asked. Gage had mentioned it before, briefly, after Mal had told him that he was looking to go through IVF and become a single dad.
“Yeah.” Vincent glanced over his shoulder, expression sharpened by surprise. “You’ve heard of us?”
“Not much.” Mal plopped back amongst the pillows and held back a laugh. “When I told Gage that I was going through IVF, and that I was ready to become a single dad, he told me that I should join up—that you guys would be a great source of support for me while I raise my child.” Mal paused. “Healsotold me that if I wanted, I’d have my choice of sperm donors. Guess he was right.”
Vincent slapped a hand to his face and shook his head. “Typical TD.”
“Gage’s username?” Mal hazarded.
“You got it.” Vincent craned his neck, then rolled his shoulders back and stepped toward the bedroom door. They’d left their clothing around the house. He’d need to go collect it. “Funny how small the world is sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Mal propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Vincent stopped in the doorway, like he had something else to say. “Small world…”
A world that had brought the man he wanted into his life and thrust them onto parallel tracks. Mal’s heart skipped a beat and made up for it by thumping twice in quick succession as his eyes traced down Vincent’s back, following the line of his spine to his ass. Moonlight suited him. In it, he was ethereal.
