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A Public Heat

“Shaw,” Murphy whispered when his husband entered their bedroom to check on him and Gabriel. “You just missed him, he fell asleep.”

“Yeah?” Shaw whispered back, smiling as he came to sit with them on the bed. “Everything looks secure out there. Time to cuddle up with you both.”

Murphy’s heart swelled. He gently lifted Gabriel off his chest; milk leaked from his nipple. Shaw took their son and dropped a kiss on Gabriel’s forehead, rocking him gently.

“He looks like an angel,” Shaw murmured. “Like you.”

“I’m not—”

Shaw silenced Murphy with a soft kiss. “Of course you’re an angel. You’re my angel.”

Well, Murphy’s chest was too full for him to protest.

Shaw carefully set Gabriel in his cot and tucked him in, running his knuckle over Gabriel’s cheek. “Can’t wait ‘til he starts running around. We’d have our hands full.”

“How are you going to make sure he’s safe, if he runs everywhere?” Murphy whispered.

“Guess I’ll have to keep working out.” Shaw grinned and returned to cuddle with Murphy, pulling open Murphy’s shirt so he could lap at the milk trickling from Murphy’s nipples. “Mm. Your milk is delicious.”

“Save some for Gabriel.” Murphy nudged his alpha.

“He already had his fill. Finders keepers.” Shaw closed his mouth around Murphy’s nipple, and the rush of milk sent tingles through his body.

Murphy hadn’t realized this was something he would like—early on, while he’d been nursing Gabriel, Shaw had crowded close and sucked on Murphy’s other nipple. The result had been a weird sort of arousal; thankfully, Shaw had waited until Gabriel was done, before he’d gone on to blow Murphy’s mind.

Shaw pressed Murphy back against the pillows and licked his other nipple, each gentle tug sending a swell of heat between his legs. “You feed us so well,” Shaw whispered, stroking his hands down Murphy’s inner thighs. Then he pushed Murphy’s legs open and settled himself between them, the gesture so intimate that Murphy’s breath stuck in his throat.

While his tongue laved over one of Murphy’s nipples, Shaw squeezed the other, tugging lightly so Murphy squirmed and dug his fingers into his alpha’s shoulders, pleasure humming through his body.

“It shouldn’t feel so good,” Murphy mumbled.

“Of course it should.” Shaw kissed the pebbled nub and teased it with the sharp points of his teeth. Then he sucked on it hard, so Murphy jerked against him. “Here, I know what’ll make you feel better.” He pulled open their nightstand drawer and found a slender S-shaped toy, one that bulged at the tip—smaller than his cock, but still formidable. Murphy’s breath hitched.

Shaw eased Murphy’s pants down far enough to access his hole. Then he nudged the smooth, blunt tip against Murphy’s slick-damp entrance and pushed, and it slid in easily, shoving against his prostate. Murphy gasped.

But that wasn’t what the toy was for. It continued deeper inside him, and as Shaw sucked on his nipples, he slipped his own fingers in alongside the toy, finding Murphy’s prostate and massaging it.

Murphy’s eyes rolled back; he clutched Shaw’s hair and tried to stifle his moans, the bulge of the toy pushing against his insides.

“Shh,” Shaw whispered. “We don’t want to wake Gabriel up.”

Except he shoved his fingers hard against that sensitive spot. Murphy arched off the pillows, his ass clenching, his eyes rolling back. It was all he could do to hold back his moan as he came, come squirting all over his belly.

“Gorgeous,” Shaw whispered, and continued to grind his fingertip against that spot. Murphy could hardly breathe, his whimpers falling from his lips.

“Sweets,” Shaw murmured with a tiny smile. “You need to keep it down.”

“I can’t keep anything down,” Murphy hissed, jerking when Shaw closed his mouth around one nipple, then the other, sucking on them so sweetly that his cock throbbed and his toes curled.

It wasn’t until Shaw stopped moving, that Murphy realized why—Gabriel had woken up in his cot, making soft, uncomfortable noises.

“Guess I should’ve waited for him to be fully comfortable before starting anything.” Shaw grinned and leaned up, giving Murphy a slow, appreciative kiss on the lips. Then he patted Murphy’s thigh. “Rest. Did you do a diaper change?”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s probably what he needs, then.” Shaw left Murphy to sag against the pillows, washing his hands and gathering the things he needed. Then he scooped Gabriel up and blew a raspberry against his belly, and wrinkled his nose. “I guess we get you changed. Don’t want you stinking up the room we all sleep in. Especially for Daddy’s sake. He needs his beauty sleep, and so do you.”

Gabriel began to wail, except Shaw wasn’t even fazed, hauling him off to the changing station.

Murphy loved his husband with his entire heart.

***

Elsewhere in Meadowfall

Varrick frowned at the carton of milk in his fridge. Hadn’t it been on the top shelf instead of the bottom? Had he not closed it all the way when he’d put it back?

Gods forbid the ghost drank straight from his milk carton instead of pouring it into something first.

“Damn you, ghost,” he said, shaking his fist at the ceiling. Ghosts floated above people’s heads, right? He was tired of losing his things, only to find them somewhere else in the house.

Maybe he would finally try burning sage like Shaw suggested.

***

Two years later

“Have a good night with Uncle Phinny and Uncle Blaze, all right?” Murphy said, swinging two-year-old Gabriel into the air. “Oof, you’re heavy now.”

“Play game,” Gabriel said toothily, beaming and waving. “Bye bye!”

“I’ll miss you,” Murphy said, blowing a raspberry on Gabriel’s stomach. Gabriel shrieked with laughter and almost kicked Murphy in the chest.

“Better put him down before you tweak your back,” Shaw said, but when Murphy set Gabriel down on his feet, Shaw swung Gabriel into the air, higher and faster than Murphy had done.

“Whee!” Gabriel squealed and kicked, bringing smiles to all their faces.

“Don’t tweak your back,” Murphy said to Shaw. “You’re getting old.”

Shaw angled a sideways look at Murphy. “Yeah?” he growled.

Murphy grinned. He liked teasing his alpha; Shaw always made it worth his while.

“Now, don’t start the eye-fudging right now,” Phinny said loudly. “Think of the children!”

“Definitely thinking about the children tonight,” Shaw said, releasing Gabriel so Gabriel could dash into the mansion to seek out his favorite toys. “Murphy’s heat is due soon.”

“Oh?” Phinny wriggled his eyebrows. “I guess we’ll see you in the morning, then. Take care of Murphy’s bottom, Shaw.”

Murphy flushed.

“We’re just going out for a celebratory dinner,” Shaw said. “Not sure what’ll happen after.”

Phinny snickered and waved them off with a handkerchief he’d produced from somewhere. “Don’t miss us too much, dears.”

Shaw rolled his eyes; Murphy tugged him down the path to the iron gate, and then to their car.

“I’m getting old, huh?” Shaw growled, pinning Murphy up against the side of their SUV and kissing him fiercely. “I’ll show you ‘getting old’.”

“You need to prove it,” Murphy gasped against his lips, his entire body heating up. “Maybe you need a—a walking stick.”

Shaw bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Murphy jerked. These days, he was better with little flashes of pain—pain arising from Shaw’s teeth, on his scent glands and his skin.

“I’ll show you my big ‘walking stick’,” Shaw whispered, squeezing Murphy’s ass. Then he released Murphy and ushered him into the car. “You might not be able to walk straight after tonight.”

“I don’t know, I thought walking sticks were supposed to help me walk,” Murphy said cheekily.

“It will.”

“When we get home?”

“Possibly.” Shaw’s smile was enigmatic, though, like he had something planned.

The dinner tonight was to celebrate Murphy’s graduation from graphic design school. Early on in his pregnancy, while they were experimenting with the tattoos, Murphy had picked up a marker and begun drawing on Shaw’s skin. It had been fun. He’d realized that if he focused hard enough, he could draw decently—enough that he’d practiced more and more, watching several videos of artists using different art mediums.

When they’d stumbled across a gorgeous mural tucked away in an alley, of lanterns floating up over a village at night, Murphy had decided that he wanted to go to art school, with a major in graphic design so he could hopefully find some work from home.

With Shaw’s help in caring for Gabriel, Murphy had completed his coursework and graduated with flying colors.

“Look at you,” Shaw said proudly when they were seated in a booth at Wy’s Drive-In, with the aroma of pork broth filling the air. Wait staff in bright yellow aprons skated out with bowls of steaming ramen to serve other patrons in their cars. “A college graduate! I’ve never even been to college.”

Murphy shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know. I haven’t even landed a job yet.”

“You will.” Confidence filled Shaw’s warm gaze. “You’ve been shining, dove. People will look at your portfolio and decide they all want to work with you.”

He made it sound too good to be true, but maybe he was what Murphy needed to believe in himself.

“Maybe,” Murphy said shyly.

Shaw kissed his temple and stroked his wrist down the sleeve of Murphy’s shirt, his attention completely focused on Murphy. It was always like this when they went out on dates, when they were alone at home, when they were together in bed. Shaw made him feel like he was the only omega on the planet, like he was incredibly special.

Someone cleared their throat. A thin omega in his forties beamed and set their bowls in front of them; his nametag read Wyatt, Restaurant manager. “Enjoy your dinner,” Wyatt said with a smile.

Between serving people, Murphy noticed that Wyatt chatted with an alpha who was also in his forties; once, that alpha even dropped a kiss on Wyatt’s lips. Shaw turned to watch them, too.

“Do you ever wish you were younger?” Murphy blurted.

“Quite often, yes.” Shaw brushed his fingers through Murphy’s hair, before plucking his chopsticks apart. “I want to grow old with you.”

Murphy’s throat tightened. “Maybe you’ll live to be a hundred-and-five, and we’ll still have sixty years ahead of us.”

“I’d love that.” With one hand wrapped around Murphy’s waist, Shaw slurped up some ramen and pushed their bowls closer so Murphy could give him all his chopped green onion.

They ordered an extra plate of pork dumplings, and a plate of fried chicken chunks. Shaw ended up eating most of what was left, because Murphy’s stomach just couldn’t hold as much food.

“Want a few drinks?” Shaw asked.

Murphy laughed. “I don’t know if I can.”

“We don’t have to drink them all at once.” Shaw paid and walked him out of the restaurant; they drove downtown, to the Wine Shack.

It felt odd visiting this place as a customer. They found a small booth toward the back of the bar; Murphy waited in there while Shaw went to buy some drinks. He was comfortable with being further away from Shaw these days; it was still a relief when Shaw came back, though.

Shaw slid into the booth next to Murphy, their thighs nudging together.

“Got you your favorite.” Shaw slid the Raspberry Rumble over; he had his espresso-spiked Pink Sunset, as usual.

Then he ignored the drinks and leaned in, nipping at Murphy’s earlobe. At the first sniff, Shaw paused and breathed in more deeply, skimming his nose down to the scent gland at Murphy’s neck. “Feel different, Sweets?”

Murphy realized that he was feeling kind of warm. Warmer than he usually did—possibly because he’d just had a bowl of hot ramen. But the warmth slipped through his veins and pooled in his gut, more and more of it collecting between his legs. “Oh,” he breathed.

His heat was starting.

Shaw smiled, turning a little to shield Murphy from the rest of the bar. His breath rushed against Murphy’s ear. “Keep an eye on things for me.”

Then he stroked up Murphy’s thighs, between his legs, and cupped his cock through his pants. Murphy’s hole squeezed. “Shaw! We’re in public!”

“Look over my shoulder. Is anyone watching?”

Murphy peeked. No one even paid them any attention. He shook his head.

Shaw huffed softly and kneaded him, sliding his fingertips down Murphy’s bulge and back up. Murphy felt the light, muffled pressure of his touch; it wasn’t enough.

“Good?” Shaw ground his thumb against Murphy’s tip. Pleasure hummed through his nerves. Murphy gasped; the music drowned out his sounds. Shaw’s smile widened; he began rubbing Murphy more firmly, back and forth, squeezing his sac.

To calm his suddenly-dry throat, Murphy sipped from his glass. His body didn’t want fluids, though. Or rather, it didn’t want a raspberry-flavored drink. But it absolutely wanted the thick, bitter goodness from his alpha’s tip.

He tried to focus on the people in the bar—the patrons sitting in their booths, the people writhing on the dance floor. Except need fluttered through his veins, growing so heavy that his bones ached, and his mouth watered. His cock grew harder, his hole hotter, and all he could smell was Shaw’s sandalwood scent.

“Mine,” Shaw whispered, slipping his thumb down the front of Murphy’s pants. He pushed it into Murphy’s underwear, stroking down the bare length of his cock. Murphy jerked against him. “So perfect, dove.”

Shaw pushed the tip of his thumb into the opening of Murphy’s foreskin, grinding it against the bundle of nerves under his head. Murphy dug his nails into Shaw’s arm, trying to breathe. But all he could focus on was the rough scrape of Shaw’s calluses, the way he felt all of it against his sensitive tip.

Shaw chuckled and took a big gulp of his own drink, before patting his lap. “Want to test out my walking stick?”

“It’s not gonna—gonna help me wal—aah!” Murphy shuddered when Shaw stroked down the underside of his cock in a slow, teasing touch.

“It’s not going to help you…?” Shaw chuckled in Murphy’s ear and wrapped his entire hand around Murphy, squeezing him.

Murphy couldn’t even think anymore. They were in public. He kept looking over Shaw’s shoulder, certain that someone would catch them. Maybe someone would tell Olson. But Shaw just kept stroking him, making him harder and harder, and he throbbed in his alpha’s fist.

“C’mon. Sit on my lap so I can watch the crowd.” Shaw pulled his hand out of Murphy’s pants, his eyes dark. He licked the trails of clear fluid off his fingers.

Murphy’s face burned. “You’re licking my precome off in front of everyone,” he whispered.

Shaw’s hot gaze seared straight through his body. “No one knows what it is. C’mon. Climb on.”

Murphy felt so awkward, clambering onto Shaw’s lap. But it seemed innocent enough since he was still facing the table—just that Shaw’s hard bulge pressed an indent into his cheeks. “Oh, gods.”

“Fuck,” Shaw breathed, pulling Murphy firmly against himself so Murphy felt every inch of his alpha.

Murphy squirmed on his lap to get comfortable; behind, Shaw groaned.

“You asked for it,” Murphy said innocently.

“Sweets,” Shaw growled, hooking his fingers against the insides of Murphy’s thighs and spreading his legs open. Then he rocked up, promising pleasure with his thick, big length.

Murphy’s body flooded with slick. There was so much of it that it leaked out of him, soaking through his pants and into Shaw’s clothes. “I’m wet,” he blurted.

“Gods,” Shaw whispered against his ear, his breaths coming harder. “It’s going to look like I wet my pants.”

“Your pants are black, no one will know.” Murphy wriggled his bottom.

Shaw groaned and laughed; he rubbed Murphy’s bulge again, hefting it like he didn’t know how much smaller Murphy was compared to him.

Murphy tried to focus on the dove tattoos on their wrists so he wouldn’t come so quick, except Shaw hooked his chin against Murphy’s shoulder, and began to undo his pants. Right there in front of everyone.

“Shaw,” Murphy squeaked.

“Should I stop?” Shaw paused, dropping kisses down Murphy’s neck. His teeth grazed Murphy’s scent gland, and he sucked on it, sending pleasure down Murphy’s veins.

Then, Shaw stopped his touch completely and waited for an answer.

Murphy squirmed. “I…”

The Wine Shack was a bright, happy place, different enough from Murphy’s past that he felt safe, wrapped tightly in Shaw’s arms. He had all his clothes on, and some of his friends were working in the bar right now. No harm would come to him here.

“If we’re not going to get into trouble,” Murphy whispered, nodding slowly.

“I’ll tuck you back in if Olson yells at us.” Shaw chuckled and stroked Murphy again, before unbuttoning his pants.

Murphy’s breath stuck in his throat. There were so many people around. Anyone could look over, and see Shaw stroking where he throbbed. But Shaw was his husband, and the bar was shadowy enough that no one looked too closely at them.

The rasp of the zipper vibrated into his cock. Then, Shaw reached inside and pushed down Murphy’s panties, so Murphy’s cock shoved up against the open flaps of his pants. He plastered his hands over it, all his attention fixed on that part of him because of how vulnerable it now was.

“Looks like something’s got you hard, dove,” Shaw growled, running the pad of his thumb down Murphy’s bare cock.

Murphy shuddered. “You.”

Shaw’s laugh was low and rough. He slipped his fingers around Murphy and tugged him slowly out—there were plenty of chances for Murphy to stop him. But Murphy let Shaw do whatever he wanted—Shaw would shoulder the blame if anyone got offended; Shaw didn’t particularly care what anyone other than Murphy thought.

He held his breath, watching as that most private part of him peeked out of his pants, more and more of it completely exposed to the cool air.

It looked so lewd, pointing up, its head pushing out past his foreskin with how hard he was. Shaw growled, grasping Murphy and pulling his skin down to expose his sensitive, wet tip. Murphy covered his face. “Oh, gods.”

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Shaw rasped in his ear. “I want to taste you.”

Maybe no one saw because Shaw’s hands were so large that they almost hid Murphy’s cock entirely from view. Especially when Shaw closed his fist around Murphy and pumped. Murphy’s spine arched; he clawed at Shaw’s hand. But any observers would only see Shaw’s fist jerking up and down over Murphy’s hips.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Murphy gasped.

“Do you like it?” Shaw sucked on his earlobe.

“I… yes.” Everything felt good with Shaw, even this.

Shaw chuckled and drank from his glass again. Murphy didn’t even know how Shaw had the stomach space to finish half his drink, except Shaw lined the glasses up on the table, one behind the other. And he stood Murphy up awkwardly, pressing him against the edge of the table.

Murphy didn’t know what his alpha was doing, until Shaw released his cock entirely, and it jutted out all naked in front of him. “Shaw!”

“They’re just going to see the drinks,” Shaw rumbled. “You’re hidden behind them.”

Shaw was right; Murphy was shorter than the width of two glasses combined. No one would see him through the drinks, unless they came right up to the booth.

But it felt so obscene having his cock right there on the table, the colorful lights roving over it. “Oh, gods.”

“Yeah?” Shaw fumbled with something behind Murphy. When Murphy looked back, he found Shaw loosening his own pants.

Slick trickled down his thighs.

“Shaw,” he blurted.

Shaw angled a sly smile up at him. “You could hide me with your body.”

“Someone’s gonna see!”

“Not if you do it quick.”

“Oh, gods!” They’d get kicked out of the bar. Olson would have some choice words to say to Murphy, and Murphy wouldn’t be able to look his ex-boss in the eye.

“He can’t fire you. You don’t work here anymore,” Shaw pointed out. “At worst, we’ll zip up and go home and finish things there.”

That helped to soothe Murphy’s nerves. He peeked behind himself, his throat going dry when Shaw’s blunt tip came into view. It would feel so good inside him.

“Nervous?”

Murphy nodded.

“Sit back down. We’ll try it later.”

Murphy sat, except he wriggled on Shaw’s lap even more, grinding down on Shaw’s partially-exposed length.

Shaw gripped Murphy’s hips. “Sweets.”

“I’m making sure your walking stick is sturdy,” Murphy said breathlessly.

“It’ll fill you up completely,” Shaw growled in his ear. “Tell you what. I have a better way to hide your pretty cock.”

He took his half-finished drink and sipped a little bit more. Then he brought it down between Murphy’s legs, and angled Murphy’s cock into the mouth of the glass, so his exposed tip slid wetly down the smooth surface. Murphy stopped breathing, watching the way his tip followed the side of the glass down and down, dipping into Shaw’s Pink Sunset.

“Needs some cream,” Shaw murmured.

“You can’t possibly—We’re in a bar!”

“And Olson’s not adding cream to it.” Shaw grinned. “Not from my preferred source, anyway.”

Murphy groaned, embarrassed. “I don’t think I can come like this.”

“I came prepared.”

“You what?”

Shaw reached into his pocket, pulling out a stubby, short device. It was black all over, thick and blunt at one end, with gentle undulating curves down its sides. Midway through, it possessed a hilt, like that on a sword. And on the other side of the hilt was a rugged grip. Murphy’s breath snagged.

“You didn’t.”

“Of course I did.”

Shaw eased Murphy’s pants and panties down the curve of his ass. Murphy flushed hotly; at least Shaw’s body hid that bare part of him.

Shaw glanced at their surroundings. He brought the toy back in front of them, pried up the material of Murphy’s clothes, and wedged the toy’s firm head between Murphy’s cheeks, pushing it up against his hole.

“Oh, gods. I can’t believe—”

“Open for me.”

Murphy opened, and Shaw pushed in. The insertable part of the toy was the width and length of two fingers—nothing especially big. It slid in easily, stopping when the hilt bumped against his entrance. Shaw grasped the end of the handle and pushed down; inside, the toy went up, shoving hard against Murphy’s prostate. He choked on his moan, his entire body clenching.

“Fuck.” Shaw breathed harder. “How does it feel?”

“Good.” Murphy squirmed, unable to believe that no one had caught them. But they weren’t even moving much now; with the glass hiding his cock, and Shaw’s fingertips deftly working the handle of the toy, it probably looked as though they were just… cuddling.

The toy crammed against his prostate. Precome shot out of Murphy, straight into Shaw’s drink.

“I saw that,” Shaw whispered, his chest heaving against Murphy’s back. “I’m going to milk you dry, dove.”

“H-here?!”

“If no one kicks us out, yes. Here.” Shaw laughed, and he shoved down on the toy again; it almost felt like his fingers were in there, hooking against Murphy’s prostate.

Shaw held him down, working him relentlessly, until Murphy’s entire body trembled and all he knew was the maddening pressure inside him, cool liquid lapping against his tip.

“Come for me,” Shaw whispered, pushing down on the toy so viciously that Murphy had to clap his hands over his mouth, his entire body clenching in a harsh release.

His come squirted into the glass. Of course it did.

Shaw didn’t stop there, though. He worked Murphy’s prostate repeatedly, until Murphy squirmed hard, shoving against Shaw’s bulge because he didn’t know what to do with all that pleasure.

Shaw made him come a second time, then a third. Then he pulled out the toy and slid it back into his pocket, his breathing uneven. “I want to be inside you.”

Murphy wasn’t sure how. Shaw was big. Too big to hide easily.

Shaw glanced at their surroundings, tipping Murphy sideways slightly. He slipped his hand between them; Murphy felt the silken brush of Shaw’s cock against his ass. “Stand up a little. Hold the glass.”

Murphy held the glass and tried to pinch the flaps of his pants shut, his legs shaky when he tried to stand.

Somehow, Shaw managed to wedge his tip against Murphy’s hole. “Sit.”

Murphy didn’t have time to look, to check how much of Shaw everyone else could see. He shoved himself down onto his alpha and swallowed his moan when Shaw pushed into him, so much thicker than that toy had been. But this left his alpha exposed; Murphy sat down hard, trying to take as much of Shaw as he could.

It was too much, too fast. He came hard; Shaw barely had time to clap his hand over Murphy’s mouth, yanking him the rest of the way down. Murphy’s eyes rolled back into his head. He writhed on Shaw’s lap, his insides so full. All he knew was pleasure, and the endless stream of come squirting into Shaw’s drink.

When he’d caught his breath, he realized that Shaw’s hand was around his, helping to support the glass. And Shaw was breathing hard, his grip tight around Murphy.

“You feel so damn good around me, Sweets,” Shaw growled, his cock throbbing inside. “I want to bend you over and give you my cock properly.”

Murphy squeezed around him. The next thing he knew, Shaw lurched against his back, wheezing.

“Fuck!”

Musk billowed around them. Shaw grew bigger inside Murphy, harder, and he sank his teeth into Murphy’s neck, biting down fiercely on his scent gland. Pleasure ripped through Murphy; he shuddered and clutched at Shaw, more come squirting into the glass.

“Can’t stay here,” Shaw panted raggedly. “I’m in a rut. Need to get somewhere else so I can work your pretty hole wide open.”

“H-how?” Murphy whined. Now that Shaw was inside him, he didn’t want to let go.

“I’ll carry you.”

Shaw pulled the Pink Sunset away from Murphy’s cock, swirling it around and drinking from it. Murphy fumbled for a paper napkin; he managed to pat himself dry.

“That looks good on you,” Shaw growled. He nudged Murphy’s hands off and took the napkin, wrapping it daintily around both Murphy’s cock and sac so none of it was in view any longer. “Leave this out.”

“O-out?” Murphy squirmed. “Everyone can still see… that.”

Shaw rumbled. “Yes. And it’s all mine.”

He rubbed his wrist all over Murphy’s wrapped parts, then stood, holding Murphy against himself so Murphy sat on his cock and nothing else, his feet dangling above the floor.

“This is how you know it’s a good walking stick,” Shaw whispered in his ear. He lifted Murphy slightly, and let gravity drag Murphy back down his cock. Then he brought Murphy through the bar—Murphy kept his hands close to his hips, in case the napkin somehow fluttered off. But it stuck around him, and he felt so vulnerable with his intimate parts outside his clothes, bouncing with each step Shaw took. Some people looked over; Murphy burned with embarrassment.

Shaw’s cock jostled inside him the entire time, grinding against his prostate so his toes curled and his precome soaked through the napkin.

Then they were out on the streets, weaving through the parking lot.

The napkin fluttered off, leaving Murphy entirely exposed. “Oh, gods!”

“Leave it,” Shaw growled before he could cover himself. “Show the world how hard you are for me.”

Murphy burned all over, growing wetter around his alpha. Shaw groaned.

Shaw fumbled the backdoor open and got them both inside, Murphy on all fours on the backseat. The backdoor shut and locked behind them.

And Shaw shoved Murphy’s shoulders down against the seat as he pulled out halfway and slammed back in.

Murphy’s eyes rolled back; he came again, clawing at the backseat as he tried to hang on. Except Shaw began a harsh rhythm, his teeth dragging against Murphy’s nape.

“Mine,” Shaw snarled, his cock surging thick and demanding inside. “Mine to please. Mine to love.”

Shaw fucked him through an orgasm, then another. He pounded inside until all Murphy knew was the back-and-forth rubbing of the car seat against his cheek, his entire body jerking back and forth with the force of his alpha’s thrusts.

Shaw’s cock grew even bigger; Murphy came again, thrashing at the pleasure. The seat beneath him was covered in his fluids. Then Shaw roared and fucked into him a last time, filling him with so much warmth that Murphy shuddered.

Instead of pulling out, Shaw held them together, his growing knot pushing against Murphy’s prostate, so thick that every slow thrust sent his eyes rolling back.

Shaw worked him through another orgasm, then another. By the time they’d recovered, Murphy realized the seat was damp with his drool

“That was amazing,” Shaw rumbled against his spine. “I wasn’t sure if you were up for playing along at the bar.”

“Gods.” Murphy buried his face in the backseat. “I can’t believe no one saw.”

“Maybe one or two people did.” Shaw chuckled. “They did nothing, though.”

“Oh, gods.” Murphy burned all over, his embarrassment growing tenfold.

“You’re gorgeous. I was happy to show them how lucky I am that you’re my omega.” Shaw trailed his wrists all over Murphy, leaving his scent everywhere. Murphy’s heart fluttered.

“I’m glad I married you,” Murphy whispered.

Shaw growled and pulled Murphy upright so they were both sitting, Murphy snuggled against him. “I’m glad you agreed to marry me. I’m glad you’re mine.”

Murphy beamed and tried to press even closer, but the only way they could was if they were naked, and he wasn’t feeling up to that. He’d probably never feel a hundred percent comfortable with all his clothes off, but Shaw accepted him completely anyway.

“I want to go home and snuggle,” he said.

“I can’t drive with you in my lap. As much as I want to.” Shaw laughed and hugged Murphy, kissing him everywhere he could reach. Then he paused and sucked in a slow breath, his palm slipping over Murphy’s belly. “We didn’t use any contraceptives tonight.”

They’d talked about this on and off over the past few months. It wasn’t so difficult raising Gabriel when they were both in the same place at the same time. During the first rough months, they’d taken turns to get some sleep. More often than not, Gabriel made Murphy smile with his silly antics, his little face so innocent that he brought Murphy joy just by being there.

So Murphy pressed his hand over Shaw’s, and smiled lightly. “I guess we didn’t.”

Shaw chuckled. “You’re really okay with it, huh?”

Murphy nodded. “Yeah. Because you’re here with me.”

Shaw growled and kissed him, marking Murphy with his scent all over again. Murphy closed his eyes and relaxed, happy to be sitting in the parking lot of a bar, because Shaw was here with him.

“I think we have a good life,” Murphy whispered.

“We do,” Shaw agreed, and kissed him all over again.

–
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