24. Jeremy
Chapter twenty-four
Jeremy
I’ve never been so exhausted in my life, snatching pockets of rest as Willow naps over the next forty-eight hours. Ever since crying in the bathtub, she’s clung to me, even in her sleep. But despite the affection, the delicate omega seems more closed off than before.
I chalk it down to exhaustion. Sleeping in fits and starts is never true rest, and even when I nap, it’s light, listening for signs of her waking.
Time blurs as one day morphs into the other.
I fuck her, and knot her, and tenderly wipe her body.
Feels like I know her every curve better than I know my own body.
Willow shifts restlessly in my arms. I’m so tired, I can’t seem to force my eyes open, but she hasn’t woken yet. I tighten my hold, hoping she might slip back under for another hour.
“Bastard,” she mumbles.
I snap alert, lifting my head.
Her chest rises and falls with her sleeping breaths. “Sleeping in . . . car because of you. Put me here.”
Her lips move, more mumbled words lost on her breath.
Willow sleeping in her car? The idea’s unthinkable, especially in here surrounded by every conceivable luxury. Surely, it’s just a bad dream, like the ones where you turn up back at school and a pop test gets sprung, usually for a subject you've never even enrolled in.
“Done now?” The omega quivers and rolls over, splaying her hands across my chest. The faintest pressure of her palms against the skin there breaks my heart. Quickly I release her, in case she’s feeling trapped in her dreams.
“Hate you. Bry . . . son. Bastard.”
Something seems wrong. I sit up and grab the thermometer. The seconds while it sits in her mouth feel like the longest of my life. The device chirps in warning. A hundred and three degrees.
Her fever’s spiking.
I roll over the nest edge, heart throbbing when she squeaks and reaches for me.
Quickly I grab my medical pack and the tablet.
The screen dies right after turning on and I swallow down a growl.
My pulse races as I plug the tech into the charging bank and tap the casing as I wait.
The device takes its sweet fucking time loading.
A more experienced alpha would know what to do without reading some damn list. I drop the device and jog to the bathroom, wetting a bath sheet and ringing out the excess water.
Willow moans as I drape it around her body and add a washcloth to her forehead.
Does the fever mean she’s hallucinating rather than dreaming? Or worse, remembering?
Did some dickface named Bryson abandon her? Left her homeless? That would explain why she was worried about me leaving too soon. The idea makes my blood boil, but I keep the anger locked deep inside so it can’t leak through. No way do I want her misunderstanding the target of my fury.
Willow stirs and her eyelids flutter. She can’t seem to focus, even though the lighting’s low.
“Hi, beautiful,” I whisper, finger combing her hair.
Her red lips part. “Ah. Ah. Jeremy?”
The omega opens her arms, back arching off the mattress.
I suck on my bottom lip and climb back into the nest, dropping down beside her. Heat fever squeezes her body, and her omega instincts drive her to reach for whoever’s closest.
A lump forms in my throat as I lean down to lift her up. The cold towel presses between us, making my skin shiver. She wants me so bad she’s already writhing. The bittersweet side is recognizing the finale of her heat. One last big spike before this phenomena releases its grip on her body.
I press my lips to her throat. My eyes ache, and I know it’s not from sleep loss.
“Darlin’,” I croon, lying the wet towel on top of her mattress and setting her on it. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you, my lovely omega.”
Gently, I spread her legs and work my cock into her swollen pussy, thrusting against the ache in my chest. I grunt as I work our bodies tighter together, her slick running freely along my shaft and over my balls.
Her soft mewls dust my ears, sparking my lust. The washcloth on her head slips free and her hair splays across the cushions. Heat blazes under her skin and burns between us, setting me on fire. My alpha nature twinges with the need to mark and mate, and I grit my teeth to hold myself together.
She comes apart with loud cries, her scent blooming unbearably sweet. My cock tingles with need but we’re not done yet.
“Come on, Willow,” I grunt, digging my toes into the soft bedding for purchase. My knot bunts her entrance and the woman gasps and spreads her legs.
“Alpha, alpha!” she cries.
If only I could be her alpha forever.
I lift under her back, draping the omega over my arm to stop her sliding away as the first ridge of my knot engages.
“Almost there,” I growl out. As the knot slips inside her and locks in place, the rush of emotion and sensation explodes, leaving me doubled over and roaring with pleasure.
We both gasp for breath, bodies heaving in unison. Willow slumps, chest rising and falling. I touch my hand to her forehead, and she’s cooler already. I lower myself half over her, careful not to drape all my weight on her slender frame with us locked tight until my knot deflates.
Gently I caress her skin, committing the smooth sensation to memory.
I must doze, because the next thing I know, the omega’s trying to slide out from underneath me.
“Feeling better?” I ask, dashing sleep from my eyes.
Willow freezes.
“Yes. Much better,” she answers, voice clearer than I’ve heard in days.
I glance over, meeting her perfectly crisp blue eyes. Not a single trace of fever. I push up on my arms, achingly aware of my nakedness and the cum coating my genitals.
It’s over.
She clears her throat and slides her legs out from under me, twitching her sequin blanket over the swirling scars on her thigh.
I rock upright until I’m on my knees, the least-threatening position I can think of. “What can I do for you?” I ask softly. “Would you like a meal, or help taking a shower?”
“Shower first,” she mutters, turning her head as if she can smell herself. “And we have food in the fridge, right?” Pausing, she looks at me, fingertips massaging her forehead. “How long?”
“It’s been four days.”
She blows out noisily through her lips. “Four. That’s a deal and a half.” Her gaze drifts down my body, and then she jerks away. “Thanks for making it so . . . easy.”
I nod, even though my chest feels like it’s collapsing.
Willow stands up and then wobbles. I jump to my feet and support her arm. “Take is slow. Your energy will be pretty low.”
She ticks the air. “Roger that. Weak and dizzy.”
“That’s probably some dehydration.” I throw her a smile. “You fought me on the electrolytes a few times.”
A hint of a smile tips her mouth. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
The way she says it tells me it sounds exactly like her.
I smile and step over the nest rim, offering both hands to guide her. She accepts my help but pulls her hands away as soon as she’s clear of the step. I trail after her to the bathroom, watching for signs of instability. Or lingering heat.
That’s vain hope talking. As she climbs into the shower cubicle, her Jasmine scent fades from desperation to quiet satisfaction, leaving me calm but aware of how tired I am. To prove the point, I nearly trip over my own feet as I head back into the nest to tidy up.
While she showers, I wipe the sticky bits off myself and dress. She takes a while, giving me enough time to make a set of caprese sandwiches and rinse the dishes in the sink.
Willow comes out in a bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her blonde hair and fluffy slippers cladding her feet. She goes to the thermostat controls and fiddles with the temperature before wandering into the kitchen with labored steps.
“Where’s Mr Shares?”
“I just put him outside. He’ll be excited to see you.”
She offers me a smile, but it’s wobbly.
“Sandwich?” I offer, sliding a plate across the bench.
“Thanks. I’ll eat in a bit.” She circles the bench and grabs a bottle of soda from the fridge.
The air hangs heavy with our uncertainty. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her, thank you, reassure her she was wonderful. But something holds me back.
Willow clears her throat. “Um, so good job? I’ll give you a great review.”
“Much appreciated.”
Fuck. I don’t want a review; I want an invitation to stay.
She hooks her thumb toward the door. “Guess I better let you go now. You must be tired.”
My heart sinks. That’s a clear dismissal; the sign she told me to wait for. “Sure.”
I return the ingredients to the fridge and then go pack my bags. No point getting sad about it, Jeremy. This was the job. I knew that. I’m the sucker who grew feelings in the middle of a contract.
With a sigh, I hoist my duffel bag and the Heat Wave kit and tramp back to where she waits. The opulent house feels cold and unwelcoming now that I’ve been shown the door.
But I can’t leave quite like this. I turn back to the omega.
“May I kiss your cheek?” I ask.
She nods stiffly.
I lean in, her scent softening as I brush my lips to her skin. Without warning she turns her face, offering her lips instead. My hands ache to tug her close as we offer each other a last, sweet farewell full of the heated memories.
I step back, my heart pounding in my chest.
“It was my honor to assist with your heat, Willow,” I rasp out, before turning for the door. “All the best.”
If I don’t leave now, I might drag her right back into that nest and bond her. I drop one bag in order to turn the handle.
The door opens, admitting a golden hurricane.
Mr Shares launches through the air, barreling into Willow’s midsection.
She lurches back from the force, tripping on the duffel.
Visions of her striking her head on the tile and cracking it open flit through me, propelling me forward.
I cannot, will not, let her hurt herself.