Page 143 of Knot Without My Permission
“As if it’ll help things?” Ransom asks. “I get that. I can feel how much Marie loves you all. I don’t need to know anything else.”
Leaning up, I kiss my alpha, knowing he and Lore are right. Bringing up the past will just fuck things up. Some sleeping dogs just need to be left to lie.
The bond sickness is still going strong, but none of us mind that it means I have Lore nearby at all times. It keeps me safe, and the guys all figure out how to spend time alone with me.
My skin feels warm from the nap, a cool shower and orgasms sound fucking perfect.
“Yes, please. Looks like a two for one special on alphas,” I say happily.
I love my alphas, and I try to tell them as often as possible. Oh yes, this little life of mine is crafted just for me.
Four months later
I’m officially waddling.
“Marie, I have to handle something at the clubhouse. It means hanging out there for a few hours while I have church. Are you up for it?” Lore asks, squatting next to me with concern.
I’m only six weeks out from my due date, and it’s making me a little grumpy. We decided not to find out the sex of the baby, and the little gremlin enjoys pretending they’re a gymnast inside my body. Their little hand is currently pushing on my stomach, and I wince as I rub the area, reminding them that their mama is a person and to be nice.
“That means you won’t have anyone at the gate, right?” I ask, trying to decide on an outfit to wear.
I’m currently a fan of loose dresses since it’s hot in Minnesota in July. Pants aren’t an option because I hate how the maternity band pinches my skin. I’ve become really sensitive to materials as well, and only have a few safe options that don’t make me want to claw my skin off.
I have a loose linen dress I may go with if I’m going to need to wear my guns. I have one holster that doesn’t irritate me at the moment, so Storm had a few more made. Being a pregnant omega increases all the usual bullshit I have, but my alphas haven’t once complained.
If I want ice cream for breakfast, then that’s what I’ll have. Unfortunately, it’s a very specific brand, but the ice cream store has pints to go that my pack makes sure are always in the freezer. That’s how you become your omega’s hero.
“We actually have a new prospect,” Storm says, crossing the living room to help me up. “He’s a college kid and my eyes and ears in Minneapolis when I need it. We don’t need him for much yet, and his low profile currently works for us.”
“As a prospect, he’s not allowed at church, which means he’ll be at the gate,” Lore explains. “He’s aware you’ll be at the clubhouse today.”
“I don’t need to be babysat,” I groan. “I’m just trying to figure out how many weapons my dress needs to hide.”
I’m currently wearing a low back house dress that would get people shot if I left the house in it. I’m pretty sure you can see my ass crack, but since we don’t have visitors, it doesn’t matter.
Storm started a project in the basement that made me hide in my nest for a month once we got back from Belize. I’m pretty sure he threw extra money at the contractors to get the safe room built in record time. I don’t think the damn thing is necessary, but if it gives me time to hide with the baby if anything ever happens, I’ll accept it as law.
Storm promised it was just in case we ever had a home invasion. If I have to get the baby and I to safety, I can do so quickly, not because he’s expecting trouble. We live in a very safe area, but I suppose anything is possible.
“Two guns, your baton, and a knife,” Ransom suggests, holding up my dress and a bra. “Don’t bother with the stairs, Sugar. I have everything you need here.”
“You’re the best,” I say, already breathless at the thought of climbing stairs.
“I have your holsters,” Wilder adds, groaning as I slip the straps off my shoulders. The dress falls to my feet, and I smirk as I walk over to Ransom to collect my clothes.
“Fuck, I forgot panties,” Ransom whimpers.
“No, you didn’t,” Lore grins. “Now all I’ll be able to think about is that you’re walking around commando, Princess.”
“Maybe you all won’t argue like toddlers then and finish early,” I tease him, squealing when he swats my ass.
“Finally, I’m not the one being spanked this time,” Ransom grumbles.
“You decided to add on an extra two months of clinicals,” Lore reminds him.
See? Toddlers.
“I'm finished now. My asshole is so stretched from wearing that plug in the ambulance, I could take a football team running a train on me and not bat an eye,” Ransom grunts.
