Chapter 24 Clover
Clover
Iwent from the airport to my childhood home to drop off my suitcase, then on to the hospital where two of my dads were hunched over in their chairs in the waiting area.
“Hey, Daddies.”
They both perked up when they saw me and instantly hopped to their feet to drag me into a group hug.
“Peanut, you didn’t have to come.”
“I moved for my bestie, you think I’m not going to come home for my dads? If nothing else, you’ll all get a few extra hugs.”
Their scents were stressed, but even so, the gentle warmth of sawdust and pine resin flung me right back to childhood comfort. They kept me smooshed between them, using me as a lifeline.
“How much longer is he in surgery?” I asked, throat tight.
“Surgery is done,” Poppy said. His actual name was Pete, but I’d struggled with the last part when learning to talk, so Papa Pete had turned into Papapi and condensed to Poppy.
He had a few more gray hairs mixed with his brown than when I’d last seen him, but the rest—round glasses, checkered button-up, stocky build—was the same.
“He just woke up. They said he’s pretty loopy from the pain meds. ”
“Can we go see him?”
“Only one person at a time,” Dad told me. His salt-and-pepper hair was spiked in all directions from shoving his hands through it, a habit he’d always had when stressed. “You can go in first if you’d like.”
“You two are gonna be okay?”
Poppy laughed softly, giving me another squeeze and planting a kiss on my hair. “We’ve survived this long.”
I checked in at the nurse’s station, and they directed me to the room where my poor dad was waking up.
Pappa blinked sleepily, his blue eyes exhausted and his five o’clock shadow rough and scraggly. “Hey there, peanutty buddy. What are you doing home from school so early?”
I wasn’t entirely sure if he thought I was skipping out on a college semester, or if the meds were making him remember years past. “You really expect me to be in school instead of coming to see you in the hospital?”
He looked around at the room, as if he was just realizing where he was. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck, can’t swear around you. Dammit.”
I laughed and scooped up the hand that didn’t have an IV in it. “I’m plenty old enough, you don’t have to worry about swearing around me. How are you feeling?”
“Right as rain.” He leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, “they got me on the good stuff.”
“I’m glad you’re not hurting. You scared the shit out of all of us.”
Pappa closed his eyes, a little smile on his lips. “You should see the other guy.”
“Did they say when you get to go home?”
“We’ll keep him for at least a week,” a voice said behind me, and I turned to see a petite Asian woman in a doctor’s coat. “You must be Clover. I’m Dr. Yoshimoto, and I’m handling your father’s case. Your other fathers said you wanted to take care of him when he goes home?”
I nodded. “They have to go back to work, so I’ll stay for a while.”
“It’s a long recovery, but we’ll provide resources to help. In the meantime, I want to assure you the surgery went very well. We’ll keep him for monitoring and notify you when he can go home, provided you have an adequate setup.”
“I’ll get everything ready if you can give me a list.”
“Of course. We have a charity that works in conjunction with the hospital to provide in-home mobility devices, so I’ll let them know everything you’ll need, and you can pick it up prior to his discharge.”
“That sounds great, thank you.”
I spent the next week up to my eyeballs in preparations. With the second floor of our house off-limits for a while, I turned the main floor into a healing oasis. I had no idea how many tripping hazards a house could contain until I started looking for them to clear.
My non-injured dads hovered like mother hens whenever they weren’t at work or at the hospital.
I gave them the tasks of cleaning and installing to keep them busy and out of my hair while I made sure the million appointments were on the family calendar.
The care plan and meal charts made me feel organized.
It was probably a false sense of security, but I needed it.
All the important details were pinned to the walls so my technology-hating parents knew what was happening at all times.
I had help for the first week Pappa was home, with Poppy and Dad alternating who went in that day. After that, it was all me during the day. Hats off to caretakers, because this was exhausting.
The days were long, but the weeks were short, and before I knew it, I’d been home for a month.
The guys messaged me regularly: Avery kept me topped up on memes and cute animal videos to de-stress.
The sharks being “puppies of the sea,” as he called them, were my favorites.
Hunter and Parker sent me gift cards to half the restaurants in Seattle so I could eat well, though I’d mostly been using them for my dads, since my stomach was being uppity about a lot of food.
Logan sent me voice notes, updating me on his daily life and asking about mine, offering a ready ear, as well as encouragement and reminders that I deserved rest. I didn’t listen to that advice, but the sound of his voice was perfect to help me relax.
I knew I was getting attached to them. I felt it creeping in each time I smiled at a message or had a rush of relief when I got a treat delivered because I didn’t have time to go get one. They’d been worming their way in since I’d met the first of them two months ago, and they hadn’t stopped.
I didn’t often have the bandwidth to formulate any sort of lengthy response to their messages, but they didn’t seem to mind. Most nights, my socialization came down to a five- minute call with Meadow before I fell asleep.
A package had arrived today, sent by Meadow, but not from her. Logan’s information was listed on it, and Meadow had messaged me to make sure I was cool with her sending it along.
My dads had stared at it as I brought it inside, waiting for an explanation when I dropped it in my room and returned without making a peep. I didn’t need to tell them about Logan, so I said it was a care package from Meadow when they started prodding.
After dinner, when all of my tasks for the evening had been completed, and my dads were taking Pappa out for some fresh air, I scurried up to my room, closed the door, and assaulted the packing tape with my nail file to break into what Logan had sent me.
His spicy sandalwood scent burst out of the cardboard, and I clapped my hand over my mouth to silence the groan it elicited.
My pussy clenched, the sensation of warm slick pooling between my thighs immediately following.
What the fuck?
Was I so hard up that one whiff of him was enough to unravel me?
At the top of the package was a note.
Seattle is colder than LA. Better add this to your collection.
Below the paper was a folded hoodie absolutely drenched in his scent.
I hadn’t been particularly stealthy about stealing the last one, but if he was willing to supply them, I was willing to acquire them.
I tucked right into the hoodie, my pussy primed and ready for attention as the rest of me settled.
Under the hoodie was enough candy to have a kiddo scaling a mountain. I pulled out the chocolate peanut butter cups and ate them while feeling cozy as fuck.
My phone buzzed.
Logan:
Meadow said the package was due to arrive today
Did it get there?
Clover:
It definitely did
Peanut butter cups are already in my tummy
Thank you
A call from him came through next, and I almost didn’t answer, but my instincts really wanted to hear his gravelly voice while I was surrounded by his scent.
“Hey, stranger.” The gruff, velvety sound washed over me.
A surge of delight snaked through my chest, foreign and familiar all at once. What the fuck was that?
“Are you ever coming back?”
“Eventually. Why? Do you miss me?”
His low growl sent a thrill down my spine. “You really think I wouldn’t?”
“You took me home in like two minutes. Could’ve been with another thirty omegas since I left.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since you left my bed.”
I stuffed the hoodie sleeve into my mouth to silence the traitorous whimper that crawled up my throat. That was an ego boost I hadn’t been expecting.
“Are you wearing it right now?”
“I might be. “
His pleased hum did funny things to my stomach. “Anything else with it?”
“Logan, it’s only eight o’clock. Do you think I’m running around naked except for your hoodie?”
“Wishful thinking,” he said with a laugh.
I chewed my lip, trying to decide if I was going to let this go further. It wouldn’t be nearly as good as having him fly out here to relieve a little stress, but it might take the edge off.
Or make it worse.
Who was to say? All I knew was I had slick going to waste.
“You have good timing because I’m currently alone in the house, and I could grant that particular wish.”
“Really? Let’s rub that genie out of the bottle, then. Be a good girl and lie back.”
The start of a whine snuck out before I could smother it, and I could practically hear his smirk. Even so, I followed the instructions, first removing my bra and lower layers, then flopping backward, wriggling under my blankets, and setting the phone inside the hood near my ear.
“You got anything to help you along, or are you doing this old school?”
“Super duper did not bring sex toys with me on this trip.”
“Not a problem. If I can’t have my hands on you, imagining yours on you is the next best thing. My fist won’t compare to your cunt, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Logan,” I hissed. “You’ve got a dirty mouth.”
“I wasn’t hearing complaints when it was between your thighs. Be good for me and put your hands exactly where you would want my tongue right now.”
I pouted as I slipped my fingers under the blankets, heading straight for my clit. I wanted his mouth everywhere, but he only had one of those. The combination of his scent, voice, and my sure touch had a moan spilling past my lips.
“You’re a little minx, mama. I bet you went right for the goods, didn’t you?” His breath hitched deliciously.
“I might have. Don’t lie and tell me you didn’t do the same.”
“I’d never lie to you. I’ll sacrifice all the pride and tell you I’ve thought about you a thousand times a day since you left. I barely get through a second without you in my head.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what to do with that confession. The only reason it wasn’t true on my end was because I’d been so fucking busy I barely had time to think. On a good day, my brain was soup lately. “This would be ten times more fun if you were actually here.”
“Send me the address, and I can be there in about four hours.”
I laughed and snuck my fingers deeper, sliding my other hand up and under the hoodie. “Tempting, but I’m not fucking anyone in my childhood bedroom.”
“What about a hotel suite?”
“Also tempting, but I’m gonna need you to focus right now. I’m on a time limit before people get home.”
The mood shifted even before he spoke, playfulness melting away in an instant. “How many fingers are inside you right now?”
“Two,” I replied with a shudder.
“Make it three. Close your eyes, and I want your other hand on your throat.”
I shivered as I flexed my hips, working another finger into my cunt, and slid my other hand even higher until I could wrap it around the column of my neck with a whimper.
“That’s my good girl.” I could hear the slick sound of his hand on his cock, each audible stroke making my pussy clench.
“I bet you look so fucking beautiful right now. You know exactly how I’d fuck you if I was there.
Why don’t you use those pretty fingers to bring yourself closer to the edge for me, hmm? ”
My first real thrust choked off the pitiful sound I made.
I hadn’t had anything alpha-sized inside me for weeks, and while three fingers wasn’t the same as Logan’s cock, they still packed a punch.
The way he’d touched me before was branded into my brain, and I summoned those memories, finding a rhythm that matched what I heard in my ear.
It was all too easy to sink into the sensations with Logan roughly whispering sweet, filthy nothings while we both climbed the peak together. Tension coiled in my belly. My grip on my throat tightened, the desire to touch my clit almost overwhelming.
“Logan,” I whimpered.
“Getting close, mama? You still being good for me?”
“Y-yes.” Every plunge of my fingers had me squirming harder. He was close too. I felt it in every cell.
“You can touch your clit,” he said breathlessly, “but since I can’t be there to knot you, you’re going to get that fourth finger in there when you come.”
Abandoning my throat, I dove my other hand beneath the blankets, going straight for my clit.
The first brush of it had me moaning so hard it sent Logan over the edge before me, and hearing his pleasure in my ear was all I needed to tumble down too.
I fucked an extra finger inside, cursing at the grip of my cunt squeezing them all together as I carried myself up and over with a string of pathetic sounds I couldn’t help.
Logan was purring when I regained my senses and shakily withdrew my hands. “Tell me what you taste like. Maybe I’ve forgotten since I last had my tongue on you.”
Still breathing hard, I lifted my slick-drenched fingers to my lips and slid one between them. “Peonies, sugar, kinda salty, little bit musky.”
Logan groaned. “This was fucking torture in the best way. You’d better rest before you come home because you’ve got a date with my bed, and you’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done with you, let alone sprint out of here.”
A hysterical needy giggle sprang out of me. “I’ll be counting down the days.”