Page 107 of With A Little Luck
Can’t do that…
Condoms are tricky when alphas and omegas are involved. Then again, she mentioned her suppressants also have her birth control all in one.
My head is a foggy mess.
Fuck her.
Don’t fuck her.
Quincy makes the call for me, reaching between us and gripping my shaft. She guides me through her slick lower lips, and instinct takes over.
I move a hand to cradle her skull to protect her from the shower wall and buck up inside her with little thought to anything but breeding her.
It’s taken several rounds to get her prepped enough to even take this much of my cock, but I’m a giant compared to her.
She moans against my lips, and I fuck into her a little too deep. My knot slides inside her opening, swelling to lock us together.
My knees shake as we both groan.
Alpha instincts are baser as fuck, and my brain screams to bite and breed her.
Every tiny movement produces so much pleasure that I lose all rational thought.
Present Day
Memory is weird.
I’ve replayed that night about a million times. Jerked off to it at least fifty times, and I still couldn’t remember any specifics about what we did in the shower, no matter how hard I tried. But that’s what happens when the haze of rut takes over.
I help Quincy up onto the table, and the guys come in shortly after, but I’m lost in thought. It’s confusing how those memories could stay hidden for so long, only to pop up months later.
The doctor comes into the room, and I’m still in a daze, but I focus on getting my shit together.
Dr. Lindsay introduces herself and focuses on Quincy. She’s probably early to mid-thirties with a friendly smile and upbeat energy. “We’ve got a few new faces,” she says, patting Quincy’s thigh.
She turns to the three of us in our line of uncomfortable chairs, and her eyes widen when she catches sight of Hart.
He waves awkwardly. “Hey, Casey, long time no see.”
My gaze immediately darts to Quincy, and her eyes narrow. Hartley mentioned he grew up around here, and now I’m wondering if he dated the doc way back when.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” the doctor says, laughing. She focuses on Quincy and continues. “I dated Hartley’s best friend all throughout high school, but he never looked twice at anyone.”
Quincy smiles politely, but I’m convinced she’s contemplating how hard it would be to find a new doctor.
I shove out of my seat and extend a hand to the woman. “Ridge. Nice to meet you. Just let me know when I can ask questions. I’ve got a shitload.”
The doctor laughs, shaking my hand. “I’m so happy you two found each other. It’s been Quincy’s biggest concern.”
I really don’t like her putting Quincy on the spot, but I release her hand and step over to my baby mama’s side. I reach for Quincy, but she’s already in the process of linking our fingers.
I smile, shake my head, and lean down to kiss her forehead.
“First up, we’ll take the baby’s heart rate and see how you’re measuring,” Dr. Lindsay says. “Then you can bombard me with all your questions.”
The low whooshing sound that fills the air as Dr. Lindsay finds the heartbeat makes my damn knees weak. I keep a death grip on Quincy’s hand and use my other to record the rapid thumps on my phone.
My eyes get misty, and I bite my cheek to keep from bursting into tears. Once she’s satisfied that the heartbeat is good, she pulls out a weird measuring tape and palpates around Quincy’s stomach.
