He swung his legs off the bed, excitement coiling in his gut. He didn’t deserve to see Wyatt again. But if he could hold Wyatt for a minute... it would be worth it.
29
Wyatt
The doorbell rang.
Wyatt groaned, pulling the covers over his head. It was far too early; he’d just dropped Hazel off at school and returned to bed. He hadn’t even been asleep for an hour.
The bed smelled like magnolia and honey, and faintly like teak. Wyatt burrowed into the spot where Raph used to sleep, pressing his nose into the pillow. Everything was fine. Raph would be here soon, and they’d snuggle in bed, Raph spooning him, stroking his belly.
It wasn’t as though he’d broken up with Raph, or anything like that.
Wyatt whimpered, huddling into himself. He still regretted that. Regretted telling Raph that the baby wasn’t his. Of course it was Raph’s, but it would also chain Raph down, make him believe he needed to stay with Wyatt.
He’ll move on and find someone better for him.
It had only been four days. Wyatt still hadn’t gotten over him. Last night, Hazel had come into his room, frowning. I asked Uncle Raph why you and him broke up, she’d said. Wyatt had almost tripped over himself, trying to see what Raph’s reply was.
Except Raph had said, I think your dad will have a better answer, and the conversation had ended at that.
The doorbell rang again, twice this time.
Wyatt groaned. It couldn’t be Penny or Max, or even Hazel—all of them had keys to this place. And Raph was probably at work in Highton, an hour’s drive away.
What if it’s Max?
Wyatt stopped breathing. Max couldn’t have found him here. His address wasn’t publicly listed. Or was it a delivery of some sort, or...
The bell rang, and Wyatt slid out of bed, his limbs trembling. He was fully alert now, his veins coursing with adrenaline. If it was Max... he’d hide. Pretend he wasn’t home.
Silently, he tiptoed down the hallway to the front door, looking through the peephole.
The person behind the door was tanned, with sea-blue eyes and dark hair, his face so familiar that Wyatt would recognize him with his eyes closed. His heart leaped. Why are you here? You should be at work.
Raph was no longer his alpha. But the sight of him had Wyatt sagging into the door, relief washing through his bones.
His hand found the doorknob. He needed to step away, pretend he wasn’t home.
Somehow, his grip tightened. There was an empty spot in his bed, and in his heart.
Wyatt turned the doorknob. Opened the door a crack. Beyond, Raph was broad and tall, his eyes warm, his jaw dark with stubble. Wyatt stared at his strong shoulders, his full lips.
“My hand slipped,” he said. “The door opened itself.”
Raph’s gaze raked over him, hot, yearning. He pressed his fingertips to the door, nudged it open with the barest of pressure. Wyatt let him. Raph pushed at the door again, until the gap was wide enough that he could slip through.
Then he stepped in. Shut the door. Locked it. And they were completely alone, sealed in the privacy of Wyatt’s apartment.
Wyatt couldn’t breathe. He’d thought he’d lost Raph, breaking their bond in front of their family like that. And yet Raph was here, his gaze intent, heat radiating off his body. Wyatt’s mouth went dry.
“How’s the baby?” Raph asked, his eyes locking onto Wyatt.
Then he reached out, his fingertips skimming over Wyatt’s shirt. Except it was that extra-large Jaguar T-shirt Raph had left behind, that Wyatt hadn’t returned yet. He’d pulled it on, thinking he could keep his longing a secret. Raph’s fingers cupped his belly, stroked down his side.
“The baby’s fine,” Wyatt croaked. He needed to step forward, lean into Raph’s chest.
“What about you?”
“I’m—I’m fine.”
No, he wasn’t fine. He’d needed Raph for days. For weeks. He’d wanted to be held and told he was loved. Not wait by his phone, wishing his alpha was closer to home.
Raph’s hands slipped around Wyatt’s face. He leaned in, brushing their lips together. His breath soughed against Wyatt’s skin, and his tongue flicked over Wyatt’s lip. Gods, they hadn’t kissed properly in forever. Wyatt arched toward him, his body humming, his nerves strung too tight. “Raph—”
Raph slid into his mouth, seeking, cautious, and Wyatt opened for him with a groan. Raph tasted like bitter coffee, like sleep, but he was so familiar, that Wyatt sank against him, clutching at his hips, at his shirt, needing him closer.
Instead, Raph pressed him up against a wall, his hands stroking down Wyatt’s sides, cradling his belly. He was so damn careful, like he always was.
“We broke up,” Wyatt whispered. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Raph paused for a heartbeat, his teeth dragging along Wyatt’s lip. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Then he kissed down Wyatt’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe. Wyatt trembled, his blood rushing south. He didn’t want Raph to stop. He’d thought he’d never have Raph this close again, and Raph... was touching him like he cared. Like he wanted Wyatt.
Raph smoothed his palm over Wyatt’s belly, and down between his legs. Wyatt gasped, his hips rocking forward, his blood surging down.
Raph knelt at his feet.
For a moment, Wyatt stared, his mouth falling open. They weren’t alpha and omega, not anymore. But Raph’s thighs were splayed by Wyatt’s ankles, his gaze dark as he looked up. He was vulnerable then, strong and beautiful and everything Wyatt had ever wanted.
And Wyatt had complete control over him.
“You aren’t my alpha,” Wyatt whispered, his heart aching. “Why—why are you doing this?”
Raph glanced at Wyatt’s belly, his fingers slipping under Wyatt’s shirt. Then he eased the fabric up, exposing the expanse of skin, the silvery tiger stripes of
