Surrogate For Alpha Dom

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

over, admiring his little face and his thick thatch of black hair, mussed from sleep.

thinking that this will surely be a busy, complicated

it

Sinclair

in the conference room at the end of

men who we have brought with us, but honestly I’m proud of them. Many

working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing a

if my constant instinct is to work, and to push, and to keep

up to my side, his voice quiet enough

ask, surprised.

paperwork on the table and beginning to sort through it. “You think I can’t

it clear? I’m your father, boy. We still have a bond, even if it’s changed with time.”

gives us a

in common.

but I shake my head

off, leaning

came up with last night.

and Ella come

to everyone they encounter, Ella showing off the baby to anyone who

out little cups of coffee that they

Roger says, his eyes wide as he looks at the

Roger and our mates,

“do you not see the issue here?” he gestures

disturbed that I don’t, I shake my head.

face swiftly in

this, since you’ve been a little…hypnotized by

your life

gives me a significant look and I shut my mouth,

arms over my chest but

“Ella’s amazing, and I love her, but you let her get away with things that you wouldn’t let anyone get

usually right!” I protest, but he continues speaking, cutting me off.

–

your judgement into doubt – but I have had the privilege of getting to know both Ella and Cora without being in love with one

eyebrow at Roger, but he ignores me.

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