He turned back around and slowly fastened the leatherbelt, wrapping it around his waist and cinching it tight. “Do you like the belt, baby?”
“Uh-huh. You look amazing.” Devon had his cock in his hand and was stroking himself. Not hard and fast, just slowly like he was drawing it out.
Maybe this whole idea of a kilt of the day wasn’t such a bad one. Laird could totally get into this.
He watched Devon, his own cock trying to fill, his body responding to the sight of his omega, the need and arousal that seemed to flood the air.
He grinned a little bit because his mate was kind of hysterical—not in that having a fit way, but in that funny as hell way. But also fucking amazing. Hot and making him ready to just go for a hell of a ride.
“We’re gonna have to be careful though, baby.” When Devon looked up frowning, he waved a hand in the air. “This thing is impossible to clean.”
“Oh, then, let me take a few more pictures, and we’ll get you a utilikilt for next week. One of those cotton twill ones that you can wash in the washer and dryer.”
“That sounds perfect to me.” He let Devon take his fill of pictures and then moved over to bend over the bed, one hand and one knee on the mattress, to give Devon a kiss.
Devon moaned, one arm coming up to wrap around his neck. Sadly, it was the one holding the phone, so it clunked against the back of Laird’s skull, but he wasn’t going to complain.
“Oh oops!” Devon tossed the phone down toward the end of the bed. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“Don’t apologize, baby. I like that you’re distracted.” He took another kiss, his hand sliding over Devon’s belly and down to wrap around his cock. He stroked up and down, giving Devon some friction, and that got him a sharp cry.Devon spread his legs and dug into the mattress with his heels, so he could push up into the touch.
Then Devon was yanking at his belt buckle, and Laird let him have at it, let Devon be the one to unbuckle the buckles he’d so laboriously put together only moments ago, and the kilt went flying off somewhere where it wouldn’t get any kind of goo on it from their exertions.
Devon tugged him right down on top, spreading to accommodate him between those lean, long legs. And he moaned as his cock rubbed against Devon’s hot, wet hole.
This kilt thing definitely had merit, and he was totally going to be exploring it at length after he got done knotting this sweet ass for at least a couple of hours.
Chapter
Fifteen
Christmas Day dawned cold and clear and very, very sweet because he and Laird woke up together in bed.
With the triplets.
The cats were staring at them, tails up in the air, purrs sounding like a motor that was running in a well-oiled manner. Laird cracked an eye open to stare at him. “They’re in bed with us, aren’t they?”
Devon grinned and patted Laird’s chest with one hand. “They are. They like you now. Something about you decorating for Christmas.”
Laird just snorted. “I’m sure. Maybe it’s the kilt. Did it for you.”
“I liked you before the kilt. I just like you even more now.”
They didn’t have any big plans for the day. He was on call this morning, and Raven was on call this afternoon, but they didn’t have any omegas in danger of giving birth. Not even Chase.
Should anyone call and say they were in labor, he would send them to the hospital, because no one was ready.
They were supposed to head over to Laird’s family’s for the afternoon; they’d been invited to brunch over at Raven’s granny’s, but right now it was just the two of them, and it was possibly the only quiet they were going to get all day.
“Are you looking forward to your holiday?” He was. He knew at Granny’s house there were going to be tons of goodies and all the children. And he was very much looking forward to knowing Laird’s family’s customs, their traditions. He’d always been incredibly jealous of people with big, boisterous, happy families, and he was having a baby with someone who had one.
“Our holiday, baby. And I am. You looking forward to everyone touching your belly and telling you what kind of baby you’re going to have?”
Devon snorted. He thought total strangers touching him all the time bothered Laird way more than it did him, though it could be awkward.
“At least they’ll be people we know,” he teased.
“Yes. And I can tell them hands off.”
