Stealing His Alpha Heart: A M/M Omegaverse MPreg Page 4
More work awaited me at home and though exhausted, I yearned for the next day with Julian and his gorgeous father. I couldn't recall any other client affecting me as Nolan does. There's more to the attraction than being an Omega or being rich, or powerful. Something indiscernible drew me to him instantly.
The sun began its descent to the horizon on the drive home, and beyond my porch light, the dark rooms in my house waited for me to enter. I sat down on the couch, put my feet on the coffee table, and checked my emails while the microwave frozen pizza counted down to the ‘0:00’ ding. Nearly ten hours after ringing Nolan Tryffan's door, I wanted something in my stomach.
Robert texted with updates a few times during the day, and he sent several emails about hiring and payroll. Normal stuff. Robert has my faith when it comes to daily business. On any other day, these issues keep my attention, but tonight my concentration ran off elsewhere.
As I chomped on microwave pizza in front of the local news, I switched gears from feigning payroll work to surfing the web for new boss-slash-client dirt. Nolan Tryffan's name is synonymous with money and power to those who followed the business page.
Obsidian Enterprises International began as a courier service while Nolan worked on the first of his degrees. As a self-starter, he transitioned from starving college kid struggling to pay rent and tuition to the manager of the largest city courier service in the greater New York City area by the time he tossed his first mortarboard.
When he chose the west coast for his post-graduate work, the courier service followed him, becoming a national enterprise. He branched out as a third-party contractor for larger companies looking to reduce overhead. By the time he earned his MBA, Tryffan LLC had a fleet of local delivery trucks and several long-haul trailers. Along the way, Nolan gained interest in international shipping, in the literal ocean travel sense, not the ‘2-day shipping’ notion we envision when we must have our random trinkets immediately.
Not long after, Tryffan LLC morphed into Obsidian Enterprises as a publicly traded shipping company. Very little surfaced about his past before college. Nolan admitted to being a stringy-limbed nerd unable to keep his socks from sliding down his legs during an interview with Forbes. He wore glasses so thick he couldn't be out in direct sunlight without knowing how the ant under the magnifying glass felt. Forbes placed him on the cover in a Versace suit, sun-kissed skin, brilliant eyes, broad shoulders and a billion-dollar smile. Zero percent nerd.
No one from his past ever emerged. No one confirmed, denied, or challenged anything about his history, which prompted rumors and conspiracy theories. When asked, he charmed everyone with the blanket retort, 'whatever it is, I'm sure it's true in someone's mind,' and always answered before anyone could delve into detail.
Denial of rumors never gets anyone anywhere; it was a smart strategy. Embracing everything said about him as at least partially true, skillfully inoculated himself and wore out the press following the leads. Since no one ever knew which stories were true, speculation, or gossip, I suppose it worked. Nolan Tryffan remained a mystery.
Regardless of his history, he came a long way from the sagging-socked-loser he admitted to being. I tried to imagine him as the kid no one looked twice at in school, but simply couldn't. The current incarnation of Nolan Tryffan overruled any possibility of the gawky teenager visage appearing in my mind. My thoughts shifted away from the computer screen, to my recollection of the day.
In the nursery, watching him feed Julian, I thought of more than Nolan. A loving, nurturing Omega nursing his child before me brought up feelings I thought I lost. There was a time when I considered putting my experience as a 'Manny' to use in my own home. It still hurts to pass the spare bedroom where Peyton worked on his paintings. Some of the best times in my life happened with Peyton.
Unfortunately, some of the worst times happened with him as well. I cleaned out the 'studio,' repainted the walls, tiled the floor, and turned the art studio into a guest room straight from a trendy magazine. A perfect country-cottage look for a room I never enter. Thinking of how the room looked before my renovation chokes me up a little to this day. I failed to be Peyton’s protective Alpha.
Nolan stirred my protective Alpha nature as I watched him nurture Julian. Omegas are naturally this way from their biological drive, but just because an Omega can make a child doesn't mean he's fit for the task. Nolan, however, was born as the perfect Omega.
Because of this, my mind stalled on the question of his relationship status. Why is Nolan a single, un-mated Omega? He's far too hot to be a spinster. Alphas would line the streets if he held 'auditions' to be his forever-mate, so being alone must be his choice. My eyes shifted back to the computer.
News links occasionally mentioned his lovers on the news, but none of them lasted. As my mind spun through countless gears, I clicked away on every link about him, no matter how trashy or unreliable the source. I opened up photos of him at banquets and galas with a different man on his arm in each photo. Few of those men were in more than one photo.
I suddenly pitied him. Had success in business ruined his attractiveness to other Alphas? Had it turned himself into the involuntary spinster Omega? Did he believe he lost his chance? Of all those sad scenarios, one final reason crossed my mind, enraging me. Had an Alpha harmed him, violated him, and soured him to the thought of a permanent bond? Part of me suddenly imagined him as a wounded bird without a nest, struggling to soar with a damaged wing. The urge to step in and whisk him away rushed into my heart, but I needed to temper my feelings. After all, at 7 am I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye if my romance novel rescue of the wounded Omega sprang to mind as soon as I walked in the house.
I closed the browser and deleted the browser history related to him. Dreaming up a romanticized scenario regarding the elusive tycoon screamed unprofessionalism. It also didn't help me settle for bed. Unwinding and allowing myself to sink into a good night's sleep wouldn't happen if I remained preoccupied by him. The memory of him sitting bare-chested in the rocker caused an angry chubby to roll over my thigh and pop out from my boxers. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous?
Nope. No. Not going there. I shut my eyes and shook my head.
But. That. Didn't. Work.
All I saw when I closed my eyes was the image of the droopy black curl hanging over his brow as he fed Julian. The sight made me swoon this morning, and the thought had the same effect on me now. He embodied so many qualities I find admirable. To have him be so damn sexy at the same time tugged at my heart in ways, I didn't think possible any longer.
Less than an hour in his house and I contemplated fondling him and struggled to keep my cock contained. I questioned whether I could continue serving him this way and surrendered, convincing myself it was only temporary. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe Robert will have news of a replacement, maybe the newness and the star-struck fascination of working for such a powerful man will wane. Or, perhaps it won't.
Chapter 7
Tanner
On the ride to Nolan's, the local radio station reported there were no leads in the case of a recent break-in at the Alta Cresta Community and detectives considered a connection to a series of false alarms plaguing a leading alarm system. Hearing the name Alta Cresta snapped me out of my morning drive daydream. I stopped thinking about Nolan and glanced at my car stereo. Why people look at the radio when focusing on listening is a mystery to me. Still, I am quite guilty of doing so.
I called Robert. As usual, he answered on the second ring, the first ring to remember where he put his phone and the second to dig it out and press the green button on the screen.
"Yeah, it was on the news. None of our clients. Is something wrong?" He asked. A beep in my ear signaled an incoming call. I pulled my phone from my ear and glanced at ‘unknown caller’ on the screen and ignored it. Whoever they are, if I’m really important to them, they’ll leave a message.
"No, just asking. The news mentioned it, but I must've missed the first story." After a few
'oh by the way's where he and I caught each other up on everything from office supply orders to weekend plans, I arrived at Nolan's and rang the bell.
Nolan answered in his robe, his open robe, again. I can't say if calling the sensation butterflies is accurate, but something definitely fluttered about inside me.
"Tanner, what are you doing?" He cocked his head to the left and raised his right brow at the same time. It was an adorable expression; however, his words jolted me.
"What? Am I not supposed to be here today?" I asked dumbfounded.
Nolan smiled. Dimples. Fucking dimples and a smile broader and warmer than anyone else in my life. "Of course, you're supposed to be here. Julian is dressed and fed and waiting patiently for you. I meant, why are you ringing the bell? Didn't I make it clear yesterday when we talked? The door will always be open for you, but I am also making a key, and I'll give you the alarm code."
"Right. Ringing the bell is a habit, I guess." Blood rushed to my face, and I cast my head down when his gleaming white smile sparked the memory of our conversation yesterday. But I blushed when the little button on his boxers popped open. When he shifted his weight, I got more than a tiny peek.
This was not a good way to start the day. Neatly trimmed, the short dark hair provided luscious contrast. His cock. I saw the root of his cock and his scrot. Instant salivation. Instant trouser twitch. I swallowed hard and licked my lips. I found myself starting the day trying to avert my eyes from the body Nolan apparently doesn't mind showing.
I wondered if his open robe greetings were deliberate. Was he testing me? How do I pass this test if I am unaware a test is happening? Is he tricking me into impropriety? I didn't believe so, because there wouldn't be much gain on his part. So, is he tempting me because he wants me to look?
If I assume he wants me to look and is not just careless with clothing, is his message one of 'claim me, Alpha' or one of 'I like to tease.' I can't react, and I must ignore both options. I cleared my throat and stepped into the house.
Julian waited in the living room on his play mat with a chubby-cheeked smile, and yellow star-shaped teether clutched in his tiny fist. A sudden squeal pierced the quiet of the house, followed by a giggle. The little man was ready for some serious playtime.
"If you'll excuse me, I have another video conference. I learned my lesson yesterday. There are four bottles in the refrigerator." Nolan's smile didn't hide his embarrassment. He headed off to his bedroom and shut the door. I dropped my backpack on the chair closest to Julian, and we began our morning.
The rest of the week continued in the same way, except I learned to let myself in.
As much as I wanted a peek-a-boo of Nolan's cock every morning, my cock wouldn't survive such teasing unscathed. Shirtless episodes, both nursing and gratuitous, increased, however. Yes, I'm a chest guy, easily aroused by lactating Omegas. Consider it my kink and forgive me for it.
By Friday, I learned their individual routines and anticipated their needs. I ventured out into Alta Cresta with Julian for daily walks getting waves and random greetings from people in the neighborhood. I wanted my thumb on the community's pulse to best serve Nolan and Julian, but as the owner of a nanny service, potential clients and employee possibilities existed as well.
During my walk, I met Diego, a manny from Childhood Home. The family Chihuahua darted through the stroller's legs so many times another step would pull the pocket pooch under the wheel. The only way to free the entangled leash was to unhook Frankie while he unknotted it. Unfortunately for Diego, Frankie twisted and growled until he lost control. Fortunately for Diego, I watched the slippery dog's scheme from start to finish. I caught him before he could wreak havoc on the neighborhood. Handing over the escape artist, I chatted with Diego about the community.
Diego worked next door to the victim of the burglary. Since his divorce, Hector's kids lived with his Omega. To spend time with his kids, Hector took them on vacation when the robbery happened. "The break-in soured the atmosphere a bit. I hope it gets back to normal soon because some homeowners are becoming suspicious of us. So, we want who did this to be caught, to save our reputations." Diego's tone conveyed distress at the situation.
"I understand. Trust is important." Diego and I parted ways at the cul-de-sac with a wave.
Returning to the house, I found Nolan unpacking several bags from the local sushi restaurant on the kitchen table. Julian fell asleep during the walk, so I parked his stroller beside the table rather than risk waking him.
The brilliant dimpled smile lit Nolan’s face when he looked up at me, "Take a seat. Do you like sushi? If you don't, I ordered some teriyaki and tempura too."
"Wow, that's generous. Thank you. I love sushi. What is the occasion?"
"Nothing special. Before Julian, I bought Friday lunch for my staff. It was my 'thing' to show appreciation. Now, I order their lunches, but I'm not with them. We could do lunch if you wish." A sudden hesitation entered his voice with those last words. My guess is he didn't anticipate 'No thanks' until then.
We plucked rolls, sushi, and sashimi from every foil pan. Nolan pulled out a small bottle of Sake and pointed to it and then to me. I waved off his visual question. Not while I work.
"Are you sure?" He poured Sake into two small cups. Again I waved it off, thanking him for the gesture. "One sip as a toast, I insist." I relented, and he toasted to me as the manny he always dreamed for Julian, clinked his glass to mine, we both took a small sip. I merely kissed the rim of the glass, barely tasting the liquid inside.
We talked as we ate, and Julian slept. We questioned each other about the superficial aspects of our lives. Still, soon the questions Nolan had for me became specific.
"Tell me about your position at Happy at Home." He pushed the Sake away and sighed, "Ah, more than a sip means I dump a pump." He commented and then returned to his inquiry. "You're not merely a manny like Chad, so tell me the truth.
"When I heard about your issue, I had to resolve it."
"You answered the phone when I called, didn't you?”
I nodded.
"You aren't actually an employee, are you?"
"In the sense I earn a salary from the company, yes."
"You're going to make me guess." He snapped another piece of sashimi between his chopsticks.
"You know the answer, but clearly you want me to tell you, I understand. I am an owner. Robert is my partner, and he sent you Chad, who managed to be a horrid disappointment. When you called asking for a replacement, I reacted. I put you on hold while I bought a moment to strategize my next step because all our employees were booked. I checked my personal calendar as well as Robert's. The vacant calendar belonged to me. So, 'Tanner the Manny' would materialize the next morning because I never experienced such a failure from one of our employees. 'Tanner the Owner' took a backseat until I researched Chad. On paper, he appeared stellar. The owner ordered the manny to his next job. Here I sit at your service."
During my explanation, Nolan stopped mid-chew. Though his lips remained closed, his jaw dropped slightly as I spoke. Then he swallowed hard. "You shouldn't be here. I knew you weren't who you seemed."
My throat tightened. I wondered if I angered him. "No, I am credentialed and qualified to care for your son." I continued attempting to clarify before the wrath I anticipated came my way.
"You're also the owner of a small business, and it is not an easy task. When was the last time you slept?"
"I couldn't allow poor representation to ruin all I worked for. As a business owner trying to build a brand and a reputation, you should understand my perspective. Another worker wasn't available to take on this duty during the hours you need. As a business owner, what would you do in the same spot?" Only a few days passed, and already I realized how desperately I wanted an Omega like Nolan. I couldn't bring myself to consider separating from him. Inside me, a battle raged between challenging his criticism and appeasing my client. I settled for putting the question back on him.
"The same thing,
but you're too important to spend your days changing diapers." He shrugged and turned his hands up, accepting my logic. "A Chad with more ambition, and hopefully, a better choice of cars should be here." Nolan laughed and selected another piece of his lunch.
"I want to be here. I keep my responsibilities to deal with because I won't abandon Robert with the burden alone. Still, I must admit a connection to Julian and to you. I enjoy spending my days here." Perhaps I should have omitted the 'to you' part, but it's out there now.
"I admire your commitment, which is why I can't imagine you leaving Julian and me. You've taken root in this house in a week. I feel connected to you, and I like the way you care for Julian."
Relieved, I slouched down slightly in the chair and threw back the Sake left in my glass. I looked down at Julian and thanked the stars in the sky. He still remained asleep. Daddy and I need to talk.
Few other people would arrange the compromise Nolan and I agreed to regarding Julian's care. However, Nolan is a man unlike any I encountered. As we sat in the kitchen, we came to a decision, and once our script ran to the conclusion, our conversation turned inward to what we wanted to ask each other.
"With the business out of the way, you can stop with the manners, won't you? Ask. Whatever you want, ask, and I will tell you. We're having lunch, not working. The whole 'boss-worker' or even the 'provider-customer' dynamic aren't sitting with us. For the first time, sitting here with you, I could zero in on your face long enough to realize you had a spatter of freckles. The sun from the window put the right amount of glow on your face."
I blushed. Blood pooled under my cheeks' skin, not from the flattery, but from the sudden anxiety. Should I let these types of questions continue? Yes. Definitely, yes. If he's asking, it's not unprofessional, right?