Page 319 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus

“Can I help?” I offer, biting my lip. “I’d quite like it if you’d allow me to.”

Mel frowns, sniffling. “I feel so unsexy. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

My hand slides up her neck and into her hair. “None of that. Focus on the bond and you’ll notice how hard I’m fighting the urge to fuck you senseless. I find you absolutely beautiful and utterly adorable, but I know you need a different kind of care at the moment. Allow me to provide it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I love the fuck out of you.”

It’s a little past three in the morning the night after my moms leave when I wake up drooling on Miller’s arm. That’s one thing they fail to mention about the lifestyle. I’ve woken up with a hard on against my ass more times than I can count in the last few months.

I slide out of bed and aim to find my omega. Her panic is clear once I’m fully awake enough to pay attention to the feeling. There’s light spilling from under the door to the nursery.

I toss it open and stomp inside, prepared to see what the problem is. I know the alarm is set, so I’m fairly confident no intruders made it inside. There are also guards at the gate to the neighborhood twenty-four hours a day.

I stop dead in my tracks, glancing around, trying to figure out what the fuck happened to the nursery. I paid a highly recommended professional organizer to set the baby’s room up for maximum efficiency.

My thirty-three-week pregnant omega is sitting on top of the changing table, which incidentally is pulled out from the wall. The step stool is nearby.

Mel is rubbing the stretch mark cream over her belly and she jolts when she spots me.

“So you picked an awesome real wood changing table,” she says, giving me something between a grimace and a smile. “I’m impressed that it can hold me up.”

I’m baffled by the bottles of glass cleaner, wood polish, and antibacterial wipes that sit next to her.

“Hey, gorgeous. Want to tell me what the hell you’re doing up there?” I ask, approaching slowly.

I’m not sure if this is the weirdest dream I’ve ever had... or I’ve got no fucking clue. My eyes are continually drawn back to the baby belly. It’s a huge turn on all the time. Maybe it’s weird, but watching her rub the lotion all over her stomach is kind of giving me a hard cock.

I constantly ache to fuck her. It seems to be a real theme the further along she gets.

“I needed to clean,” Mel says, pulling her shirt down. “But I couldn’t reach the ceiling fan on the stool, so I moved the changing table over. Only once I got up here, I couldn’t get back down. I was making a plan of action when my stomach started itching and the stretch mark cream was within reach, so I grabbed it and then you came in.”

Dr. Jamison did warn us about nesting.

“Okay.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Let’s get you down from there.”

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

I wrap my arms under hers and lift her off the changing table. “Just for the record. Next time you need to clean, wake one of us up. You’re really lucky I’m not spanking your ass raw right now.”

“What?” she gasps indignantly. “Why?”

“You could have fallen.” I give her a serious look. “I’d much rather you wake me. I’m happy to keep you company.”

I run my hand over the back of her head and bend to give her a kiss.

“Ready for bed?”

“Yeah, I got tired twenty minutes ago. I just had to work out how to get down.”

I snort, shaking my head.

Melody is nearly thirty-six weeks when the baby enters the next zip code before Mel even gets close. Not that we’re really traveling much these days.

Mel is in full nesting mode, and that’s fine because we all prefer to keep her close to a bathroom whenever possible.

I’m not sure, maybe I’ve just never paid much attention to pregnant women, but she seems bigger than normal. At our last appointment, the doctor mentioned it could be because she’s carrying high. Whatever that means.