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66 - Afterglow, After Shocks
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2025-06-08 07:26:37The house was quiet. The kind of quiet that only came after the chaos of children and chores.
An afternoon siesta hush where the sun stretched lazy stripes across the bed and the soft creak of the mattress was the loudest thing in the room.Sebastian lay on his back, sunk into the pillows, his sleep shirt pushed up above his chest, exposing soft skin marred with Ezra’s kisses—some old and fading, some fresh and red.His shorts were barely clinging to his hips, twisted from the way Ezra had dragged them down to mid-thigh before crawling back up his body like a man starving.Ezra hovered over him now, hair mussed and jaw shadowed with stubble, his palms braced on either side of Sebastian’s ribs.He was shirtless, warm and golden in the afternoon light, his sweatpants slung low—so low that the V of his hips pointed directly to the heavy weight of him beneath the fabric.Sebastian’s breath hitched as Ezra dipped his head again, lip
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Mia was on the couch, perched and stiff, hands clenched in her lap.She was flushed to the roots of her curls. Her scent was spiraling wild—bright citrus laced with sugar-snap panic. Sweet and impossible to ignore."Stay here,” Ezra growled, all righteous Alpha menace as he stalked toward the front door, shirt clinging crooked to his damp skin, hair wild from where Sebastian had clearly just dragged fingers through it.Sebastian stood helplessly in the kitchen, one hand clutching the side of the table as he tried to breathe around the rush of instincts.“Ez,” Sebastian called, already regretting his life. “Don’t eat him.”Ezra didn’t answer. The front door flung open like the wind owed him money.And there stood Jacob.Tall. Broad-shouldered. Nervous in a hoodie with the sleeves pulled over his hands like a baby wolf trying to look nonthreatening. He held a bundle of daisies and a wax paper bag that probably contained co
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 80 - Scent In Trouble
Sebastian’s palms splayed against the cool bedroom wall, fingers flexing as he braced himself, breath coming in short, broken gasps that fogged faintly across the eggshell paint. The room was warm with the heavy scent of slick and Alpha musk, but the wall was cold—shocking against his flushed skin, a grounding contrast to the molten ache blooming low in his belly. His sweatshirt had been torn halfway off, dangling from one sleeve, the rest of his clothes in shambles across the floor—his boxers barely clinging to one trembling thigh, the elastic stretched and hanging limp. Sweat beaded along his spine, trickling in slow lines down the small of his back as Ezra drove into him, hips snapping forward with unforgiving rhythm. Ezra had him pinned—one hand clamped around Sebastian’s hip, fingers digging in so tight there’d be bruises, dark proof of how completely he owned this moment. His other hand, larger and r
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 79 - Proof & Consequences
Ezra was drying the last dish when his phone rang. The screen flashed Rachel Atwell, of all people.He frowned, wiping his hands hastily on the dish towel before answering. “Hello?”Rachel’s voice was unusually clipped. “Ezra, you need to come to Rose Hill Hospital. Clara’s in labor. She’s been asking for you.”His heart slammed downward like a weight, knocking the air from his chest.“Is she okay?”“She’s fine. But she’s screaming your name and saying she won’t give birth without you. The nurses are starting to ask questions.” Rachel’s voice sharpened. “Ezra… she won’t push unless you’re here.”He hung up.Sebastian came out of the laundry room with a basket in his arms. Lavender laced the air, soft and familiar—but tinged now with anxiety. Ezra met his eyes across the kitchen.“Clara’s in labor. I’m going.”Sebastian’s lips parted. “Do you want me to come?”Ezra shook his head. “No. Stay with
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 78 - Unmarked
The morning light spilled softly through the curtains as Sebastian zipped the small canvas bag shut. His movements were precise, quiet-almost ritualistic. The twins were already dressed and fidgeting near the door, the hem of Camden's shirt askew, Caleb's shoelaces still untied. "Okay," Sebastian called gently. "Put on your shoes, please." He touched the bandage at his temple, wincing as his fingers brushed too close. The hospital had said he'd need it re-dressed every few days. Ideally, someone else would've watched the boys-but Ezra was still on shift, and Mia was out celebrating her stellar exam results. Camden bounced on the balls of his feet. "Are you gonna be okay, Daddy?" Sebastian smiled through the dull ache in his skull. He reached out and smoothed Camden's sweat-damp curls. "I'll be fine, Cam. You boys just be good, alright?" Caleb nodded solemnly. "We'll help you. We'll be careful.
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Ezra’s hands trembled as he paced in front of the bed, every word heavy on his tongue.His heart pounded in his chest, raw and exposed. The weight of the silence between them was suffocating.“Seb, please… look at me. I never—never cheated on you. I swear. Clara… she was already pregnant when I—when we got together.” His voice cracked, desperation pooling in his eyes like storm clouds.He took a step forward, but Sebastian didn’t move. He kept his back to Ezra, staring blankly out the window, the soft evening light casting long shadows that softened his tense jawline. It was like a wall had risen between them, cold and immovable.“I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was pregnant, not until she showed up, four months along.” Ezra’s voice trembled, breaking with the weight of the confession.His fingers clenched at his sides, trembling like the rest of him. “I would’ve never—never—put you through this, Seb. You mean everything to me. But she—s
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The golden morning light spilled through the windows, wrapping the house in a gentle glow.Sebastian moved quietly through the kitchen, gathering stray toys and wiping away crumbs left behind by the twins’ chaotic morning energy.The faint scent of lavender clung to him, blending softly with the warm cinnamon and sugar from the muffins he’d baked earlier.At the front door, Ezra was lacing up his worn work boots, his hands steady and sure. The twins buzzed towards him like little bees, their chatter bubbling with excitement as they prepared to follow him to work—an unofficial “bring your kids to work” day, fueled by holiday freedom.“Dad, wait!” Camden called, clutching a small plastic wrench as if ready to tackle any task.“Don’t forget me!” Caleb added, matching Ezra’s stride with determined little steps.Ezra turned back with a grin that softened his rugged features. He crouched low to ruffle Caleb’s curls and tousle Camden’s
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