Page 36 of Key Lime Kisses
“We could... or you could help me find something.” That wasn’t what I’d expected.
“Sure. What did you lose?” Maybe I’d misread the very naked room.
“My cock. I know it’s here somewhere, but I can’t see it.” He put his finger to his lip. “Do you think you could look?”
“Absolutely. What should I do with it once I find it?” I reached him, kissing him softly, then tracing a path from his cheek to his neck and then down his belly. “Should I play with it? Kiss it? Take a picture for—” that one earned me a playful smack. “I think you’re going to have to tell me, omega mine because seeing you like this has me thinking very naughty things.”
“You ruin everything.” My head snapped to his face wondering what I’d done. “I wanted to tease and torment you and now the only thing I want is to bend over our bed and have you slam your cock into me over and over again until I come.”
Hottest. Omega. Ever.
And somehow I was lucky enough to call him mine.
“Done,” I grabbed him by the hand and led him to our bedroom where we did exactly that, the both of us dozing as we were connected by my knot.
I didn’t even know how long we slept when I awoke to Shea’s muffled sound coming from the bathroom.
“Everything okay?” I was up and out of our bed so fast I was lucky I didn’t trip.
The muffled talking kept going. He was on the phone. I had freaked out over a phone call, probably to his brother or something.
I padded back to bed, climbing in and longing for him to join me. Instead he came out freshly showered and fully dressed.
“You should shower.”
“Sure.” Don’t argue with the pregnant man. Rule number one of surviving your spouse's pregnancy rang through my head.
I took my shower and when I stepped out of it, there were my clothes on the bathroom counter.
Strange.
I put them on, more perplexed than upset. As I walked out of the bathroom it suddenly clicked what was going on. Shea was standing there with his hospital bag in hand. “Doctor said we should head over.”
“I thought you had to be in labor for a long time—didn’t they say contractions every two minutes.” They did; I was there. What was I missing?”
“My water broke.”
“DidIbreak your water?” The absurdity of my statement wasn’t lost on Shea who looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
“Just take me to the hospital,” he finally said, still holding in giggles.
Everything I saw on television and heard in our parenting classes had me expecting him to be bellowing out in pain as we raced to the hospital. That was very much not how it went. We talked the entire way, Shea stopping a couple of times mid-sentence and then finishing it like it was no big deal.
It took two hours for us to get through triage and into a labor and delivery room. We had to answer all of the questions we had filled out on the pre-registration forms, some of them twice and then they hooked Shea up to a bunch of machines to see if he really was in labor and not having Braxton-hicks contractions.
That was until his doctor came in and took over. He didn’t mess around, getting us into a room right away.
“Might as well settle in. It’s going to be a long day. I might not still be here when your sweet babe enters this word,” he had said. And we believed him, holding off on the epidural as the contractions grew stronger, figuring there was time for that.
We were wrong.
When the anesthesiologist came in to give the epidural he had the nurse check Shea first. I couldn’t hear their conversation about it, but the conclusion wasn’t close to what I’d expected to hear. “Looks like you don’t need me after all.”
“I do!” Shea all but shouted. “I can’t do this all night long.”
I was with them on that. We’d only been in the room for four hours and I already was willing to offer myself up to the gods to take away his pain. I couldn’t imagine another ten or so hours of it.
“You won’t have to,” the nurse said. “I messaged the doctor and fingers crossed we can hold off pushing until he gets here.”
