“I can’t think,” he panted.
Greg smirked. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, gods, I don’t know if this is worse.” Dale rubbed his face, looking down at himself. His chest was pink, his thighs splayed around Greg’s knees, his cock damp. He wasn’t in any shape for a dinner. “I need all my wits about me.”
“So you wanna remove the plug?” Greg dropped a kiss on his forehead. “You can—I won’t mind.”
Dale opened his mouth, about to say yes. It would interfere with his ability to think. But he was also going to a dinner where Greg would be looking at another omega. Where Greg would be considering other omegas as his mate, and... Dale couldn’t stand the thought of that. He didn’t want Greg thinking about any omegas but himself.
But maybe this had been the last fuck they’d ever have, before Bernard Hastings convinced Greg that he wanted someone younger, someone better than Dale. With the pregnancy as risky as it was, Greg didn’t need to stay. He could find someone better suited to be his mate.
Dale’s heart squeezed. “No, I’ll keep it. I’ll pretend it’s your knot.”
“Yeah?” Greg nuzzled Dale’s temple, kissing him on the lips. He was still hard. Dale reached down, thinking about returning the favor. But Greg caught his hand, lifting it up to press kisses to his palms.
Dale’s throat grew tight. Even after all this time, he still didn’t believe that Greg would stay. Not when there was so much at stake, not when Dale couldn’t see much about himself worth loving. “I need the plug as a reminder.”
“Okay.” Greg gathered Dale into his arms, kissing down his neck to his scent gland. He dragged his lips over it, then his tongue, and his teeth, and Dale’s breath shuddered out of him. Was Greg going to bite?
“I still want to bond with you,” Greg murmured against his skin. “You know that.”
Not after tonight. But Dale nodded, his heart aching. “I know.”
“We’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Greg squeezed him. “We’ve been okay for almost two months. The next two years will go quick. Then you’ll have tenure, and I’d have graduated.”
If it were that easy! Dale sagged into Greg’s chest, breathing him in. If things went south tonight... he wanted to remember Greg’s scent, wanted to remember the heat of his body, the gentleness of his touch. “I can only hope.”
“I love you,” Greg whispered, kissing him again.
“Love you too,” Dale said, closing his eyes. It was an hour until dinner. He didn’t want to leave Greg’s arms before then.
22
Greg
At 7:20 PM, Greg stepped into the carpeted foyer of The Apex.
Inside the restaurant, a chandelier hung from the ceiling; two fountains ran down the sides of the lobby, lit blue, each with orange-and-white carp swimming around their miniature waterfalls. In the middle of the foyer, a host smiled—omega, from his oleander scent. “Reservations for you, sir?”
“Hi. Bernard Hastings. 7:30.”
“Right this way.”
Half an hour ago, he and Dale had gone home to shower. Greg had let Dale pick an outfit for him—a button-down shirt and black jeans. They’d sprayed on the scent suppressants, ten coats on each of their clothes, and Dale had climbed into the Porsche with Greg.
Three minutes ago, Greg had dropped Dale off amidst the boutiques and antique stores along Prime Road, where the rest of Meadowfall’s more-expensive stores were. It should take him five minutes to walk to The Apex.
Greg followed the host past the general dining area, into an elevator with silvery walls. The doors slid shut, and the numbers blinked. On the third floor, the host showed the way out into a corridor of private rooms—some enclosed within mirrored walls, some with wide glass windows overlooking the restaurant’s garden dining area.
The Apex was one of the taller buildings in Meadowfall, built five years ago when an influx of wealthy folk moved into town. Greg remembered his father grinning with the news. This will increase the College’s attendance, Bernard Hastings had said. We’ll hire more professors, increase its prestige over the next few years.
Greg had shrugged at that point, too distracted by the camping trip with Tony to care.
At the end of the hallway, the host stood by an open door. Two picture windows met at the far side of the room, the sunset sky beyond filled with deep pinks and golds. His father sat at a wide square table, Penny Fleming to his left. The air carried a trace of poplar and lily; they hadn’t been here long.
Greg breathed past the thudding of his heart, nodding at them. “Dad. Penny.”
“You’re early,” his father said, scrutinizing him. Dressed in a coat and tie, he looked older than usual, his long face stern, his eyes disapproving.
Nothing new there. Greg shrugged, taking a seat across from him. “Traffic was light.”
Penny gave him an apologetic smile. She’d dressed up, too, leaving behind her lab outfit for a demure dress. “Hello,” she said, glancing past his shoulder, as though expecting Dale to show up. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not an inconvenience to Gregory,” Bernard said, cracking a smile at her. “He’s been looking for an omega for a while.”
Penny glanced at Greg. Then her nostrils flared, and Greg knew she couldn’t smell Dale on him. Her eyebrows lifted with surprise.
Maybe he should’ve contacted her in advance. With Dale nervous before the dinner, he’d forgotten about texting Penny, asking her to play along. “I’m not sure I need you to pick out an omega for me, Dad.”
Without looking at him, Penny nodded slightly to show that she’d gotten his message: I’m still with Dale. And Greg was suddenly glad that Dale had been polite with her the night she walked in on them—she was playing along with the secret now, and maybe she wasn’t the nosy bitch he’d thought her to be.
Bernard chuckled. “Gregory always says he isn’t looking, but he is. You two have met in Dale Kinney’s lab, haven’t you?”
“Yes, we have.” Penny smiled, her gaze flickering to the doorway again. Greg
