Page 34 of With A Little Luck

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Trigg

B eing a gentleman has always come naturally to me. It’s easy not to objectify the opposite sex when I rarely, if ever, experience sexual desire. That is not the case when Quincy’s delicate scent is within reach.

And my cock is starting to piss me off.

I normally have excellent self-control…

I still need to feed Quincy dinner, but my body isn’t cooperating with my wishes. It has other things on its mind. This is why men become idiots… Rationally speaking, there is only one head to think with.

The omega leans back into the shower spray, allowing me to cradle her skull as my free hand runs through her long dark hair in an attempt to rinse away any lingering soap.

Some dark part of me likes that she so easily trusts me to look after her.

I have honorable intentions, but she’s taken me at my word, while Ridge and Hartley have done nothing but try to discredit me.

I wouldn’t be shocked if the soul match bond was responsible for at least part of our connection.

But with the world working against me, I’ll take any leg up that I can get.

My cock brushes her stomach, and I bite back a groan. Quincy’s nails dig into my biceps as I help her out of the spray of water, waiting until she seems confident standing vertically.

“Thank you. The scalp massage was an especially nice touch.” She smiles. “You’re a natural caregiver.”

I nearly scoff.

No, I’m not.

I’m making an effort for her, but this type of contact doesn’t come naturally to me.

“I’ve been hogging all the hot water.” She slides by me, using her grip on my arms to guide me into the shower spray. “It’s time we switched.”

Quincy’s wet hair falls over my forearm as she stretches to reach for a pump of body wash. I clear my throat awkwardly and give my body a stern pep talk about not responding inappropriately when her hands slide over my skin.

It’s useless.

She starts at the tops of my shoulders, caressing my pecs on her descent. I’ve done my best to keep my eyes on hers, but I do have peripheral vision. Her nipples are tight, and her heavy tits jiggle with every movement she makes.

It’s entrancing.

Not to mention, her swollen stomach draws my attention back to it, even as I attempt to find something else to focus on.

Her skin is mottled with small bright-pink stretch marks that prove exactly how taxing it is to grow a baby.

Even her belly button, which I think used to dip in, is now flat with the rest of her stomach.

It’s fascinating, but not enough of a distraction from the way Quincy’s hands skate lower down my sides.

I jolt, grabbing her wrists. “I’m afraid if you move any lower, my chances of remaining a gentleman are slim.”

“You’re so cute.” A lopsided smile takes over her face, and she shakes out of my grip. “That was the point, Trigg.”

A low growl rattles out of my chest as she teases her soft fingers over the indents of my hips. She brushes over my pubic hair and soaps my cock.

My head falls back as I curse under my breath. Each breath saturates my system in her scent, and my vision gains a hazy sheen that’s mildly alarming.

I’ve never experienced rut.

Then again, I’ve never been so close to a potent omega either.

Quincy fists my shaft and loops her other hand around the back of my neck, pulling my head down. She stretches on her tiptoes to meet in the middle, and I haphazardly capture her mouth. My teeth rake over her lower lip, and the nearly overpowering urge to plunge them in washes over me from nowhere.

This is a problem.

I keep a tight hold on myself out of necessity, but Quincy makes it difficult to fight against my baser urges. Her fingers dig into my neck, and she continues to jerk my cock. The sticky tip drips precum against her skin, and I buck into her hold.

The location is inconvenient, considering all the things I ache to do to her. Her balance isn’t the best, and with my lack of experience, it seems dangerous to attempt our first time together in the shower.

I’m the one who is supposed to be meeting her needs, yet I can’t help myself as I grind into her tight hold. Her tongue teases around mine, and she whimpers against my lips.

Sliding my hand around her lower back, I guide her to lean against the wall and give in to the moment. My teeth ache with the same throb that pulses in my knot.

“I’m not going to last if you keep that up,” I murmur, brushing my nose against hers.

She smiles. “That’s okay. If I could get down on my knees and back up again, I’d already have your dick in my mouth.” Her words cause a visceral reaction, and my shaft jumps. She keeps right on grinning, working me off with more vigor.

My forehead rests against hers as my mind plays sexy little images of what she would look like on her knees—followed quickly by a multitude of other positions.

I slide my hand down Quincy’s backside, cupping her ass and pulling her closer as my pleasure builds. She runs her thumb over my crown, and it’s game over.

Sealing my mouth to hers, I tune out the hot water beating on my back and focus solely on her scent and the tight grip she has on my cock.

It becomes impossible to multitask as my shaft swells.

Luckily, the naughty little vixen takes over the kiss.

She wrecks me as my balls tighten and my spine tingles.

Hot cum sprays from my tip, and I groan against her lips. My legs shake to the point I’m grateful that I’m not responsible for keeping us both upright. I doubt I could safely do so.

My head is a mess of alpha fog.

The need to bite her slams into my chest, and I pull my mouth from hers to keep instinct from taking over.

Quincy continues working my cock, and she smiles as she brings her hand to her mouth, licking my cum from her fingers.

The sight does my fucking head in.

Or maybe that’s my first orgasm that wasn’t self-induced.

No, it’s absolutely the captivating little omega that takes my breath away.

Now I just need to negotiate her allowing me to bond her…

And she’ll never be able to escape.

Once I realize the pregnant belly is pushing what my T-shirt can cover, I run over to Ridge’s room to dig for something more comfortable for her to wear. She’ll want to be surrounded by at least one of our scents while we eat.

I’m even thoughtful enough to warn Ridge and Hart about the food.

They promise they’ll meet us downstairs, and I leave, only to realize they should know what happened today.

If not, Ridge will surely ask in front of Quincy.

Sighing, I pop back into the nursery, taking in all the progress they’ve made as I give them a thirty-second replay of the day.

Boredom, death, cleanup, blah blah blah.

“As such, Knox is no longer here, but I was able to talk the jewelry store owner into staying an extra thirty minutes, meaning the day wasn’t a complete waste. ”

I ignore Hart with his mouth hanging open and dart back to my bedroom to prevent Quincy from needing to wait any longer.

The little omega pouts adorably as I help her into Ridge’s T-shirt and sweatpants.

I’m not sure why she’s suddenly huffing and puffing, but I believe she’ll tell me what I’ve done wrong when she’s ready. I dress quickly and pull on my glasses before offering her my hands.

She gives a look I can’t decipher but allows me to help her up off the edge of the bed before guiding her from the room.

I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding on to her hip as we hit the top of the stairs. Perhaps I should carry her up and down them from here on out? It would be less physically taxing on her body and probably safer too.

Quincy continues to frown.

“Is everything okay?” I mentally scan through every second of our encounter, trying to understand where I went wrong.

“I’m fine,” she says, and there’s not an ounce of vitriol to be found in her tone. “I wasn’t planning to head right back downstairs to eat, but it’s fine.”

My forehead wrinkles.

The plan was always to rinse off any murder residue, then return to the kitchen.

Oh…

I believe she may have hoped to continue our interlude outside of the shower.

Possibly in my bed.

My chest puffs, and I pull my shoulders back as I guide her down the stairs.

Only…

Jesus Christ.

I forgot to make her come.

I got too focused on feeding her and the baby. I’m going to make a terrible husband—at first—but I will adapt and learn from every mistake.

We head down the hallway, and I keep my hand on Quincy’s hip as I get close to her ear. “I will do my best to make you come…many times. As long as you eat a decent meal.”

There.

Maybe that helped me look less like an incompetent fool who has no idea what’s happening and more like a concerned soon-to-be father.

Ridge and Hart come down while Quincy and I are eating. We nearly ate at the bar, but I quickly relocated everything to the dining room table when I realized how uncomfortable she looked trying to get up onto the barstool.

I fed her breakfast in the living room to combat the need for her to sit on one of those stools, so I have no idea why it didn’t cross my mind sooner. Apparently, orgasms are not good for my brain functioning.

The two sweaty alphas take seats close by, and my nose wrinkles.

Well, Quincy will be pleased to pick up their stench with how potent their pheromones are from a day of physical labor assembling furniture.

I pat Quincy’s thigh to catch her attention and offer her a bite of the chicken club she selected from the food options.

Perhaps I should feel guilty for stealing the food Knox procured.

I failed to ask if one of the containers was meant for him, but he’s more than capable of making another stop before heading to Sutton’s.

Quincy takes the bite and grabs the bottle of soda from the table, twisting off the lid and taking a sip.

I was under the impression pregnant women should limit their caffeine intake, but I only see her drink a small amount at meals. I’ll do a little research before bringing up that concern.

She turns to me, and I offer her another bite before placing the sandwich back in the container.

“How’s the nugget?” Hartley asks, taking a bite of the burger he found in the first box he opened.

“She’s good.” Quincy smiles, running a hand over her stomach. “Did you two get everything done? You’ve been in the nursery all day.”

Something brushes against the leg of my sweatpants, and I frown, darting a look at the floor.

It’s the mutt.

He sits back on his haunches, staring up at Ridge, but he’s so fat that he appears to be using my foot and leg to keep him upright. The strong urge to nudge him away washes through my system, but I resist.

Even if I was gentle, I’m sure Ridge would take offense to it. I’d like to get along so I can get through this meal and take Quincy up to my bed.

“Not done yet.” Ridge breaks off a piece of his burger and disgustingly feeds it to the drooling creature with his bare hands before picking up a fry and eating with the same fingers.

“We should be able to wrap it up in another hour or two. Those dressers took like four hours each to assemble, even with two people.”

I look away, bringing a hand to my mouth in an attempt to keep from gagging.

That cannot be sanitary.

I make a mental note to never allow Ridge to feed Quincy unless I’ve watched him wash his hands.

“I can’t wait to see it,” the little omega says, patting my thigh. I swivel my head to see what she needs, and she smiles. “I’d like a fry with ketchup, please.”

It soothes some territorial piece of me to see that she’s just as open with our relationship in front of Ridge and Hartley as she is when we’re alone. She grins and leans forward, eating directly from my hand.

“What time is your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?” Ridge asks.

She pulls her hand to her mouth and chews before taking another drink of her soda. “Nine-thirty, but I need to run by my house and grab something to wear. I didn’t pack to be here long term.”

I stretch around her, grabbing the bottle to check for the milligrams of caffeine. Once I have the number, I return her soda and pull my phone from my pocket.

Apparently, it’s safe for pregnant women to have about two-hundred milligrams. She could have four of those small bottles, according to a bit of mental math, but I’ve never seen her finish an entire soda…

Meaning, I should let this hyperfixation die without ever being voiced.

“Are you coming with us?” Quincy asks, bumping her shoulder against mine.

Ahh, to the doctor’s? Like she could keep me away.

“Yes,” I agree, picking up the sandwich and offering her another bite.

“We should leave a little after eight to give us plenty of time for you to swing by and change.” Ridge nods to Quincy and looks at Hartley. “How about you?”

“I’ve got something I can wear tomorrow, but I need to run by my brother’s house soon to get the rest of my shit.” Hartley wipes his mouth with his napkin. “We won’t need to do that until after the doctor, but I would like to pick up my SUV from Quincy’s at some point.”

Hartley and Ridge go on to discuss the plans for tomorrow, but I’m too focused on the grunting dog leaning against my foot.

I thought King and I had an understanding…

Apparently not.

I’m going to have itchy, watery eyes tomorrow. I can feel it. If I have that weird dry cough…

Quincy leans over and grabs the sandwich. This time, she offers it to me. “You’ve barely eaten. This whole feeding each other thing has to go both ways.”

My lips tip up, and I placate her by taking a bite. She grins, making my heart thump erratically.

Hmm, perhaps I should plan a grocery delivery trip.

I’ve been eating rather unhealthily since coming to Vermont.

I don’t want to cause permanent damage to my body, and an elevated pulse can be a sign of distress.

Putting down the sandwich, she grabs my bottle of water and leans closer, tipping it to my lips. It’s quite cute, and something flutters in my stomach.

Christ.

Maybe I need a full-blown checkup.

I’ve never given much thought to when I might die. When it’s my time, it’s my time.

I no longer find that thought palatable.

I need to be around for many years to come to spend each one of them by Quincy’s side.