Page 9 of Mink Hijinks
My alarm goes off at the same time I come. The orgasm hits me like a damn train and I’m not entirely sure I can get to my feet to fetch more snacks and liquid for Pax right now.
I drop my head to the back of the couch and take deep breaths. I’m gonna have to clean up before I go to him.
Once I’ve caught my breath and my heart rate’s slowed, I rummage around in the kitchen. I hadn’t brought a lot, so I’m going to need to go shopping soon so I can take care of Pax better. But I have enough for a couple of sandwiches. I wrap them in some beeswax covers to protect them.
Clutching the sandwiches, I brace myself at the bathroom door before I knock. Pax is quiet and I have to wonder if he’s resting or so exhausted he can’t move.
“I have sandwiches this time,” I say when I push the door open.
His Omega pheromones hit me and my knees almost buckle, but I force myself to stand strong.
Pax peeks his head over the lip of the bathtub. Tear streaks run down his cheeks. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Because you deserve to be treated with kindness. Just like everyone else.” I place the sandwiches on the cart and turn to leave.
“Don’t go.Please.I think the first wave is over.” He rustles around and I realize he’s covering his lower half with a towel.
Who the heck can refuse that request? Certainly not a freshly come Alpha.
Pax brushes his hair from his eyes as he reaches for the sandwiches. “Will you eat with me?”
I nod. “Do you wanna eat in here?”
“It’s safer this way,” he mumbles.
The silence is solid for a few minutes, broken only by the dainty clink of the beeswax wrap as Pax opens his sandwich and the sound of chewing. His hands shake. He’s raw from… well, from everything, but especially from riding out a Heat solo, and I half-expect him to maintain the intensity. But right now he’s soft, with his knees tucked up and his mouth full.
I risk sitting on the closed toilet lid, still within eye-line. “Feeling better?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know. I think I’m just tired.”
“Keep eating,” I say. “Your body burns up calories like crazy in Heat. You gotta keep fueling it.”
Pax nods. He polishes off the sandwich in record time. “You eat, too. Or I’ll feel guilty.”
I grab the other sandwich and hand it to him. “I made them for you. You need the energy.” Pax’s stomach rumbles and I wave the sandwich at him. “See, your stomach agrees.”
“If you’re sure?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, but he takes my offering.
The tub is a cozy pile of softness, with Pax sunk to his shoulders among the blankets. I spot an honestly pretty modest blue dildo covered in drying slick next to his thigh. And then I notice three increasingly larger toys also within the tub sanctuary.
I won’t pretend I’m not jealous. My fingers itch to move them. To offer myself again. Such strange thoughts that I’ve never had towards another Omega before.
Usually, I just want to have a good time, not anticipate someone’s every need. But with Pax, it’s different. I want him to know he has someone happy to help him in any way he needs. Not just my knot. No, I want to feed him, and make sure he’s warm. Well, when he’s not in Heat, anyway. Make sure he’s drinking enough water. And help him figure out who he is.
Pax watches me while he eats, like a feral animal, making sure I won’t take his food. Once he finishes the second sandwich, I relax and so does he.
Pax stretches a little, jostling all of the toys inside the tub with him. “It wasn’t so bad. Having someone on the other side of the door. Less lonely than usual.” His face brightens. “Usually I just hole up at my place and tell everyone I’m sick.”
“Everyone deserves someone to take care of them during their Heat,” I say. My fingers twitch to smoothe the hair matted to his face.
Our eyes meet and something in my gut twists. My sense of smell isn’t as keen as in mink form, but even now, Pax’s pheromones are a punch to the solar plexus. It isn’t just sex. It’s desperation and need, and the tiniest streak of shame. I want to erase that last one with my tongue.
I shake my head to clear it. He hasn’t asked for anything like that. “Can I bring you more water? Or I can leave you alone for a bit again.”
“Can you just—can you stay?” His hands fist the edge of one of the towels, wringing it slowly. “It’s… quieter with you here. I’m so tired of the inside of my own head.”
“Not a problem, Pax. Tell me about cars.”
