Page 34 of The Kingpin’s Omega Lover (River City Omegas #2)

FIFTEEN

Malori expected it to take a lot more convincing for Davia Valdachi to open the hotel room door and allow him and King inside.

She was an elderly woman with a thick accent, visible scars on her neck and cheeks, and an air of exhaustion that hung heavily over her like a wool blanket.

King had simply knocked on the door, introduced Malori as the baby’s birth parent, and asked to be let inside.

“He has your eyes,” Davia said to Malori as she stepped back, pulling the heavy door with her.

Malori said nothing. A pack-and-play was set up in the corner of the room, between the wall and the dresser.

The only light source was a fixture above the farthest of the two queen beds, and even in the faint orange glow, Malori saw his sleeping son.

The baby lay on his back, a blue blanket covering most of his body, a stuffed cow by his head.

The room was silent, except for a white noise machine he didn’t care to locate.

My boy. Oh, dear gods, my son!

Something inside of Malori had split in two when his daughter was taken. That broken piece had fractured again when Aleks absconded with his second-born. The second fracture snapped back into place, and Malori released a sound from deep within. A noise of pure joy that startled his son awake.

The instant cry spurred Malori into action.

He carefully picked Junior up, amazed at how much he’d grown in a year.

He wriggled and whined, probably confused by this stranger in the dark.

“It’s okay, baby, Daddy’s here. I’ve got you.

” Hot tears trickled down Malori’s cheeks.

Tears of pure joy and love. Total elation, and he wished he could bottle this feeling for later.

He was vaguely aware of King and Davia speaking.

Junior quieted and he stared at Malori with wide, suspicious eyes.

Pretty, pale eyes that did look like Malori’s.

Malori carried him to the nearest bed and sat, so he could adjust the way Junior was sitting.

They stared at each other, mesmerized. Malori studied every millimeter of skin, every wrinkle and imperfection, and the wisps of dark-blond hair on his head.

The milky scent of his breath. The firm grip as his tiny fist wrapped around Malori’s finger.

“Hey, little man. I will always protect you, I promise. You never should have been taken from me.”

Malori lost himself in the joy of this moment, and he wasn’t aware of all the activity around him until King sat beside him. Gently squeezed Malori’s elbow. “It’s time to leave,” King said.

“Yes.” Malori finally looked up. The pack-and-play was closed and by the door. Davia stood near it with both a diaper bag and a small carryon. “She’s coming?”

“Yes, she is. Davia overstayed her visa last year, and Aleks exploited that to make her work for him for practically nothing. I promised to give her a new job with much better pay, and we’ll work on citizenship.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” King traced a fingertip along Junior’s forearm, down to where his fist clutched Malori’s finger. “He’s gorgeous. He looks like you.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Malori laughed. “Is this real? This is really real?”

“It’s real, angel. My people will come back and clean the room, remove all traces of Yovenko, but we need to go. The night isn’t over yet.”

No, it wasn’t. Malori pressed a hard kiss to King’s mouth. “You’re amazing.”

“You deserve amazing. Come on.”

King helped him stand so he didn’t have to release his baby.

The pajamas he wore were acceptable for a late summer car ride across town, and it was late enough that few people would be out and about to really notice them.

Especially this close to the stairs that should lead straight to the parking garage.

By the time they got to the car, Junior had fallen asleep with his head on Malori’s shoulder.

Bishop was driving, and Malori had no idea when or how he’d procured a car seat, but it was there, in the backseat.

Malori was unpracticed at this, but he got the sleeping baby secured, and then climbed into the backseat with him.

King rode up front. Davia went in another car with the rest of the baby supplies.

Malori couldn’t take his eyes off Junior, could barely concentrate on the drive.

Or on the phone conversation Bishop and King were having with Kensley, who seemed to be expressing buckets of joy over their new roommates.

They were pulling into the high-rise parking structure when Malori blurted out, “I never asked Aleks what he calls him.” Junior had been a nickname, and he wasn’t terribly fond of it.

“Davia told me they call him A.J.,” King replied. “Aleks Junior.”

“Ew.” Malori had once considered that name, but he didn’t want his son to have any connection to his sire beyond genetics. “Do you think he’s young enough to rename?”

“I think you can do anything you want, and I’ll support it. We’ll get him a new birth certificate, whatever he needs, once you decide on a name.”

“Good.” His boy deserved a life free of any ties to his sperm donor.

Bishop, King, Malori, his baby, Davia, and another guard whose name Malori couldn’t remember, packed into the private elevator, along with the baby equipment, and they rode up to the penthouse.

Kensley and another guard were in the lobby, and Kensley released a triumphant cheer when he spotted Malori.

Malori braced for the tight hug, unable to return it while his arms were full of baby, but he could kiss his best friend’s cheek.

“I can’t believe this all worked,” Kensley said, a little out of breath. “I mean, yes, I can, but no, I can’t. Oh, my word! Wow.”

“It’s surreal for me, too,” Malori replied. “I know this wouldn’t have happened if I’d tried to do it on my own. I am so grateful.”

“So am I. I’m glad you remembered you have family to fight with you, Mal. Look what happens when we stick together.”

“I know, and I’ll never forget this. Gosh, we need nursery furniture.”

Kensley flapped one hand in the air. “We have all that stuff already.”

“No, that’s what you bought for your baby. Besides, it’s up in your area of the penthouse. I need a room near us.” He glanced at King, who was busy speaking to Bishop and Davia.

“We can shop online for everything tomorrow, then. A crib, a changing table, all the toys he could ever want. That playpen thing should be fine for tonight.”

“Yes, it will. King?”

King excused himself and approached their little group. “Mal?”

“Can we put Junior in with us tonight?”

“Of course. He can sleep in bed with us, if you want. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Thank you. Um, what about our, uh, other guest?”

King’s soft smile went deadly. “He’s secure in his new accommodations. He’ll be safe there until tomorrow.”

“Good.” Malori didn’t care where, only that Aleks was under guard and wouldn’t get away before they decided what to do with him. “His injury?”

“His head will be fine. The other thing?” King winked. “I think it makes a nice bedtime accessory. But I did request antibiotics. We don’t want him coming down with a fever before the fun begins.”

This vengeful, sadistic side of King should have worried Malori…

but it didn’t. It matched his own internal desire to make Aleks Yovenko suffer.

Suffer and scream and beg for relief. For a fast death.

He’d get none. Not for the torture he’d heaped on Malori these last two years, during every single encounter, from the very first rape to Malori beating him in the head with a lamp.

“We’re going to put Davia in a room near us,” King continued, “with a guard at her door. She knows your baby better than we do, so I want her close for a while.”

“Okay.” That made perfect sense. Other than Aleks, Davia was the only other “parent” that his baby knew.

He was also young enough that, in time, Junior would forget them both, and Malori and King would be his only remembered parents.

Malori would never tell his child who his sperm donor was—at least, not while he was young.

When his baby was an adult, maybe they’d have that conversation. If he ever asked.

But Malori hoped to create such a happy, joyful, fulfilling life for Junior that his boy would never want to know anything different.

“Can we go now?” Malori asked. “I’m exhausted, and I really want a shower before I pass out.”

King’s eyes flashed with danger. “Of course.”

Once in King’s room, Malori loathed parting from his baby, but they set up the pack-and-play near King’s bed.

Junior released a long sigh and slept on.

King stood in the shower with Malori, while he scrubbed the feel of Aleks’s touch off his skin.

Washed his ass thoroughly and let King scrub his back.

The soft, loving touches reminded Malori of how safe he truly was, how loved he was, and his cock thickened.

King went to his knees under the hot spray, sucked him into an intense orgasm, and then toweled Malori dry.

They curled around each other in bed, their son sleeping soundly nearby, and Malori fell asleep with his family.

The first of many, many more nights to come.

King was only half-awake when wet fingers rubbed against his hole.

He stretched onto his stomach and spread his legs, more than happy to offer up his ass to Malori first thing, and he sighed happily when Malori slid his cock inside his willing body.

They moved together slowly, Malori gently rocking his hips, seeming in no hurry to get there.

Malori dropped hot kisses along his neck and spine, while his hands found King’s and trapped them above King’s head.

He was held down, impaled, being used so deliciously, and King had never been happier. When Malori came deep inside him, King came, too, soaking the sheet beneath him. He clenched, wanting Malori to stay, but they had a big day ahead of them. They could make love again later.