Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

#Chapter 342 – Bunker Life

Ella

Sinclair and I wake up late the next morning and frankly I’m grateful that everyone let us sleep in. We had to get up to feed Rafe, of course, but even with that? It’s the most sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.

“Morning,” I murmur, turning over to Sinclair and slinging a leg up over his hip, feeling just… ridiculously relaxed for someone who fought off a pack of kidnappers in her bedroom yesterday.

Sinclair doesn’t say anything, just growls a hungry little greeting and pulls my naked body closer to his, rolling over me a little so that I can feel the delicious weight of him on top of me as he kisses my neck, my shoulder, and then my mouth. “We’re skipping breakfast,” he murmurs, sliding his hand leisurely down the length of my body, “I have different idea for how we can spend

the time

”

“Noooo,” I moan in protest, my stomach audibly growling in support. “I need fooooood!”

Sinclair laughs and pulls away from me then. “Am I not sustenance enough for you?” he asks

pretending to be offended. “Here,” he says, offering his arm, bulging with muscles, “take a bite. It

will keep you going.”

I bare my teeth and lean forward towards it, making my mate laugh, but then I just press a quick kiss to the arm and push him away, reaching for the baby who is starting to fuss in his cradle at

the sound of our voices.

“As delicious as you are,” I call over my shoulder to Sinclair as I lean down to scoop Rafe into my arms, “the baby and I need pancakes.”

“Then pancakes you shall have,” Sinclair murmurs, yawning and crossing to the little metal

bathroom door in the corner of the room. “But I hope that you are aware that these will be bunker

pancakes,” he adds, twisting the nob and pushing his way through, “by which I mean plain toast.”

I laugh, nodding to indicate that that’s fine by me, and then I spend a few sweet minutes alone

with my son, talking softly to him while I feed him his own breakfast, taking my time looking

his little face and his thick thatch of black hair, mussed

will surely be a busy, complicated

it

Sinclair

the morning we gather in the conference room at the

as I look around at the men who we have brought with us, but honestly I’m proud of them. Many worked through

that they were working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing

in the hours in my younger years to get to where I am. I am allowed to indulge, a little, in some of the privileges of being in charge – even if my constant instinct is to work, and to push, and to keep going. Ella and Rafe

father murmurs to me as he rolls up to

ask,

smirk, just for a moment, before placing some paperwork on the table and beginning to sort through it. “You think I can’t read the emotions on

it clear? I’m your father, boy. We still have a bond,

a hand on my father’s shoulder, grateful for him. Roger comes over to us and gives us

all have in

I shake my head at him a

he just shrugs it off, leaning in front of

came up

stands up straight, though, when Cora and Ella come

everyone they encounter, Ella showing off the baby to anyone

Cora handing out little cups of coffee that they thoughtfully made.

his eyes wide as he looks at the

and our mates, trying to

you not see

I don’t, I shake my

sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face swiftly in a mix of worry and

going to forgive you for this, since you’ve been a

your life

but Roger gives me a significant look

my chest but letting

her, but you let her get away with things that you

I protest, but he continues speaking, cutting me

–

have had the privilege of getting to know both Ella and Cora without

Roger,