Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Cora

I blow lightly on my cup of tea, doing my best to cool it and concentrate on the book that’s open in my lap. But even as I try, my eyes continually drift to the picture window in front of me that overlooks the front of our property, including the driveway where Roger’s going to pull in any minute now.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past two hours.

I sigh, frustrated. I sent him a text a while ago asking him to let me know when he’d be home not that I really need to know, I just…wanted to know.

But Roger is notoriously bad at keeping an eye on his phone, and I know that he and Sinclair have had a particularly stressful day today. So, I’do my best to just…exercise my patience.

But I sigh because, even though patience is usually one of my virtues…

Today? I’m finding it a little hard.

Happy!

The baby’s little tap comes skipping down the bond out of nowhere, and I burst into a grin, looking down at myself.

“Oh, so are you liking the ginger tea, little guy?” I ask, laughing a little as I stroke a hand over my belly.

He doesn’t respond because…well, because I asked him out loud, and he can’t hear me, but I smile nonetheless, taking another sip.

Happy? I ask, sending the word and the feeling down the bond to him.

His answer comes back in an instant. Happy happy!

I laugh again, desperately pleased at this, and wondering what’s going to come next with him. Because he’s getting bigger, I can almost feel him growing by the day, and soon he’s going to start feeling all sorts of new things. But will he even have words for them? Will we feel them before he does, and be able to pass the same emotions back and forth, asking questions like we do with happy? Will it be –

But even as I ponder it, excited, headlights flash across the drive and my face bursts into a grin.

putting it down on the coffee table as I watch Roger park the car, and step

I sigh, watching his every step and continuing

baby pulses, making me

daddy is anything but

his jokes. God, I love him

as he storms through it, pushing it shut behind him and already looking up the stairs, clearly intent on going

Roger whips towards me, stopping so fast in

doing in here?” he asks almost

looking him up and down. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice deep with

his hair before looking up at me again. ” I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell that he means it

of a

he sighs,

for him and folding

glancing up the stairs. “Can we just go

ask, going a little still. ” You’re not hungry,

hanging his head again, almost begging for a moment. “I just want

little disturbed now. Because I don’t frequently see him like this. Once we broke into Roger’s tough shell, he revealed himself to be funny, and sweet, and

showing me this

his side in a second. “Sure,” I say,

on my hand

the bathroom to take a short shower, washing

I turn on the fire because I want the warmth and a little light to see by, but otherwise shut off all the lights and climb into bed, waiting, idly

his eyes far-off, thinking through something that I know he’ll tell me about in a few minutes when he’s ready. I can’t help

to keep it to myself, Roger raises his head a little and smirks at me. But I just shrug, because I mean,

naked in bedroom, the fire highlighting the carved lines of his body in

scootch across the mattress, pressing myself to his side, and Roger lets out a wicked little growl as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, resting

fingers through his still-damp hair and cooing softly to him in a way

our relationship is based on a great deal of laughter and teasing. But

almost to purr with the pleasure of it. Interestingly, for how much we usually want to tear into each other, there’s not too much that’s sexual about this moment. Instead, it’s simply comfort freely offered