The baby kicked against his palm. Eric’s heart skipped. “Did you feel that?”
Ollie cracked a smile. “I did. I think he missed you, too.”
“He?” Eric looked sharply at him. “You did another ultrasound?”
Olivier shook his head. “I just... had the feeling that it’s a boy. I don’t know for sure, though.”
Eric dropped kisses all over Ollie’s face, just holding him. In case the police came to take him away. In the distance, the sirens wailed.
“I don’t want you to go to jail,” Olivier said quietly. “I’ve been afraid of that all this time, with us being stepbrothers. If it really happens... that would be terrible.”
“Yeah.” Eric took Ollie’s hand, pressing Ollie’s wrist to his jaw. So Ollie’s carnation scent would be on him, too. That was for luck, and for Ollie’s marking. Because if Eric did end up in jail... he wanted a reminder of Ollie. Wanted to remember Ollie’s smile, his laughter. “I love you, okay? In case anything happens.”
“I love you, too,” Ollie said, his lower lip wobbling. “I’m sorry for putting you through everything.”
“And I forgive you for that.”
Ollie sighed, bowing his head. Eric cradled him. Together, they waited for the police to arrive.
33
Olivier
Ollie only remembered to panic right as they stepped into his apartment. “Eric, wait—”
“Been five hours, damn it,” Eric growled, hauling him through the front door. “Stupid police and their stupid protocols—”
“Eric!” Ollie frowned.
Eric paused in his grumbling, a tired smile tugging on his lips. “Yeah, I know.”
They’d spent the better part of the day at the police station, reviewing the security footage of the parking lot. Eric had growled when he’d seen what Zan had done to Olivier, his entire body tensing up. Olivier had given statement after statement, and Eric had held him.
But Zan was really dead. Olivier hadn’t anticipated the relief that had swept through him, easing the tense knots in his chest. Zan wouldn’t return to haunt him anymore. He wouldn’t torment Ollie with his cruelty again.
It felt like that chapter of his life was finally over with.
The police had released Eric on the basis of defending his omega. Now that they were finally home, Ollie felt the dull pain in his entire body, from earlier.
But that wasn’t so important, though.
What was important was the mess in Olivier’s living room—the dildos and lace and toys scattered through the apartment, not all of them sparkling clean.
Eric paused just inside the living room, staring at the chaos. “The fuck?”
Olivier’s face burned. He locked the door, discreetly plucking off a dildo he’d left on the wall. “Um. I, um. I’ve been kind of distracted.”
The whole apartment smelled faintly of his musk. He’d been horny with the pregnancy the past few weeks, and it had been easier just to leave his dildos up on the walls and bedposts, so he didn’t have to keep readjusting their heights when he needed a good, immediate fuck.
Except now Eric had seen the true horrors of Olivier’s mess, and maybe this might convince him to change his mind. Olivier’s heart pattered.
Eric’s gaze swept across the apartment, a low growl in his throat. “How often were you using these?”
“Maybe, um, twice a day.” Olivier tugged on Eric’s hand, trying to hurry him to the bedroom so he’d forget the chaos sooner. Please don’t mind. Please don’t think any worse of me. “Let’s just... let’s just not look at them.”
But Eric backed him up against the nearest wall, his hands heavy on Ollie’s hips. “Who were you thinking about when you used them?”
“Do you have to ask?” Ollie’s face grew so hot, it felt as though his skin might peel. No one else asked about his masturbatory habits. Olivier had fucked those dildos, imagining Eric’s hands on him, imagining Eric’s cock plowing inside his body, filling him with seed. He hadn’t wanted anyone else.
“Yeah, I have to ask.” And Eric’s gaze bore into him, knowing. “Who, Ollie?”
“You.”
Eric’s smile grew; his eyes darkened. “You’re gonna have to tell me what exactly you thought about when you fucked yourself,” he growled, squeezing Ollie’s ass. “Gonna give me a blow-by-blow account.”
Olivier groaned in embarrassment. “Why?”
“So I can do it to you.” Eric grinned. “In person. And twice as hard.”
That sent a coil of heat straight between Olivier’s legs. Musk rolled off his skin; he squirmed, unable to help raking his eyes over Eric’s strong chest, the way his pecs stretched his shirt.
“Missed me?” Eric murmured, cupping Ollie lightly between the legs.
“Yes,” Ollie hissed. He still couldn’t believe Eric was here. Couldn’t believe Eric still loved him, couldn’t believe that Eric still wanted Olivier to be his omega. And his cock hardened at Eric’s touch, as though Eric could command Olivier’s arousal at will. “Eric, please.”
“Gonna have to be more specific.” Eric patted Ollie’s cock, then tugged Ollie’s shirt up his belly. “Or I’ll think you’re begging for some tickle torture.”
“That’s not what I want!” Olivier cracked a smile. Eric rubbed his palm down Olivier’s baby bump, then swept him off his feet. “Eric!”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eric growled. “Scream my name.”
“You devil!”
“C’mon, you can call me worse names.” Eric laughed. “How about ‘you sexy fucker’?”
“That too.” Ollie smiled wider, his doubts from before fading.
Then Eric set him down in front of the master bathroom counter, and Olivier caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
Zan’s beating had left his face tender with pain. Olivier’s cheeks were puffy, his lower lip split, and one eye had swollen half-shut. This was what Eric had been flirting with?
Horrified, Olivier turned away from the mirror. He hadn’t thought he looked this bad. There’d been no mirrors in the police station restroom.
Eric glanced up from undoing Olivier’s pants. “What’s wrong?”
“I look terrible,” Olivier mumbled. “Why are you still hitting on me?”
Eric pressed a kiss to Olivier’s belly. “What, so you
