Illicit (The Wrong Alpha 3)

“He’s kind of ugly,” Liam said honestly.

Jon laughed and walked over. Sitting down beside Liam, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek before peering down to look at his son.

They both stared at the sleeping newborn.

“Huh,” Jon said. “You’re right. He looks kind of ugly.”

“See!” Liam said, before realizing that Jon was shaking with laughter. “I hate you,” he grumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Jon said, kissing him on the mouth, still grinning.

Liam really wished he weren’t holding the baby, so he could wrap his arms around his mate and cuddle up to him. He was feeling terribly needy after giving birth—at least that part about pregnancy the books got right. He wanted cuddles and hugs and kisses. He wanted his alpha.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jon said, pressing their foreheads together. “I think you’re worrying over nothing, silly.”

Liam suppressed a sigh. He wished Jon didn’t know him so well sometimes. He’d never explicitly told him about his self-doubts, but it seemed he hadn’t needed to.

“It’s not nothing. What kind of omega looks at their firstborn and thinks that he looks ugly?” Hiding his face in Jon’s neck, he breathed in his scent and finally told him what had been bothering him. “I didn’t even like being pregnant, Jon. Or rather, I liked it, but for the wrong reasons. I liked the idea of having a piece of you inside me, not because I was excited for the baby itself. There’s something—something fundamentally defective about me. I’ve always been bad at the stuff omegas are typically good at: nurturing, giving comfort, caring for someone else. I always had to force myself to comfort my brothers and I always feel so awkward when I do it. I was hoping to feel differently when I looked at our baby, but… I don’t think I feel anything.” His eyes burned with frustration, anger and disappointment with himself. Why was he like this?

“Hey,” Jon said, tipping Liam’s chin up with his fingers and forcing him to look at him. He held his gaze, his blue eyes serious and so full of love it made Liam feel much better. Jon always made him feel good.

“You’re perfect to me the way you are,” Jon said, stroking Liam’s tear-streaked cheek with his thumb. “I still think you’re panicking over nothing, but even if you’re right and you can’t feel anything for our son, I’ll be here, always. He won’t be unloved, I promise. I love you, and I’ll love him for both of us.”

His throat thick with emotion, Liam kissed him softly, his chest full with overwhelming affection and love. Sometimes he thought he loved Jon too much—so much that his capacity to love anyone else was severely limited.

A baby’s whimper made them pull apart.

Liam shifted his gaze to the infant in his arms.

He was waking up, his little face scrunching up unhappily. Puffy eyelids blinked open and blue eyes stared at Liam.

Liam stared back.

Okay, maybe the baby wasn’t really ugly. It was kind of… cute, maybe. He had Jon’s eyes. No baby with Jon’s beautiful eyes could possibly be ugly.

The baby made a small sound, his tiny hand reaching up.

After a moment of indecision, Liam touched it tentatively. Tiny fingers wrapped around his finger, unexpectedly strong, and the baby made a contented noise, his scent sweetening.

No, it wasn’t the baby’s scent—it was his own, Liam realized with a distant sort of amazement. He was the one exuding that sweet, comforting scent. Maybe his instincts weren’t entirely useless, after all.

Beaming, Liam turned to look at his husband.

He found him smiling softly. “See, I told you,” Jon said, covering Liam’s hand with his own. “I know you will be a wonderful parent, love.”

Liam looked down at their hands, the baby’s hand so very tiny between their palms, and he felt a lump form in his throat. His husband. His son.

He cleared his throat, blinking the tears away. But these tears were happy ones. Jon smiled when he saw them.

“What are we going to call him?” Liam said, curling his fingers against Jon’s.

His husband kissed him on the cheek. “Whatever you want,” he said, leaning their heads together as they gazed at their son.

Liam hummed thoughtfully before grinning. “How about Anthony?”

Jon laughed. “It is a pretty good name,” he said, his blue eyes bright with amusement.

Gods, he was so handsome. So wonderful. And he was his.

Looking at his husband adoringly, Liam murmured, “It is. I love yours better, though.”

“I sure hope so, darling,” Jon said with a smile. He kissed Liam, and Liam kissed back, their mating bond lighting up with affection and warmth and a single emotion:

I love you.

The End