Chapter 12: The Lone Alpha
Chapter Ten. Davina.
Oh God, Oh God, what am I doing? Swimming! Why the hell did I agree with the adonis that is my son’s father coming swimming with us?
My brain must have had a malfunction when I invited him to come with us. Yeah, that’s it. I have a serious case of brain failure!
My heart is beating out of my chest, my hands trembling in a mixture of fear and excitement. I finish off pulling on Max’s Spider-Man swimming shorts and top. He looks so cute in the red and blue costume, with matching arm bands, which sit at the top of his arms. I then looked down at myself. All I can see are my flaws, standing in my red swimsuit that has a short skirt attached in a bid to hide my thunder thighs, and silver stretch marks at the top of my legs.
I shaved my bikini area four times. Yes, FOUR times this morning, and I am still panicking that a stray hair or two is poking out of the costume. Seriously, there is not a scrap of hair on my body, yet I still worry, and then double-check under my arms, to ensure they are silky smooth as well.
Why don’t they have costumes with underwires? I place my hand on the top of my costume and pull up one of my large, slightly saggy girls, tightening the shoulder straps in a vain attempt to make her look a little more perky, then do the same to the other.
Panic is my best friend right now. But why do I care what I look like? This is not a date, nor is it about me. It is a chance for Max to get to know his father in a fun environment where we cannot get into a fight or do anything else that my body begs me to do. Not that Mars would be interested anyway when he sees my post-pregnancy body in a swimsuit. It was not that hot before, less so now.
“Mammy, let's go!” Max excitedly pulls at my hand.
I guess I cannot put this off any longer, and taking a deep breath, in an attempt to steady my nerves, I slide the lock on the changing room door, and nervously step out onto the wet tiled floor, grabbing my bag, and gingerly walk towards the tall brown locker, hoping I don’t slip. I bundle our bag full of clothes into the locker, place a pound coin into the slot, and lock the door, wrapping the band that contains the key around my wrist.
As I fiddle with the plastic buckle to secure the band, which is more difficult than it should be, my excited son pulls at me.
Shit!
I find myself smacking into a hard, yet weirdly soft wall. Every part of my body explodes in tingles, taking my breath away, and my swimming costume is wet, before even getting into the pool. I slowly looked up, to find ridge after ridge of perfectly tanned muscle. The urge to stick my tongue out and lick them was real. A tattoo of a russet wolf’s head sits on the best chest I have ever seen. Not that I have seen many in my life, not even Mars’s. We didn’t take our clothes off the night Max was conceived other than my knickers and his jeans, which had been pulled to his knees.
I find myself taking small pants, trying to breathe, as my feet remain rooted to the spot. Two hands reach out and steady me, the warmth from them kickstarts my heart again as it splutters back to life, beating so fast and hard that even the pulse in my wrists is pounding. A low chuckle emanating from the perfectly formed chest causes my cheeks to flame with embarrassment. I can feel my nipples poking through the fabric of my costume, but more than that, I feel a large rod from just below the wall of glorious muscle poke against my stomach.
“Mammy, Daddy, come on!” Max shouts, totally oblivious to the moment we are having.
Plus, how the hell does he know Mars is his father? I mean, I have not confirmed it. I will not do that until this adonis I am still pressed against, proves he will not run from him.
I clear my throat and look up into the forest green eyes, which are now fully dilated, the green replaced with black and a hint of silver flashing at me. How the hell do his eyes do that, and why does the damp situation in my costume become a fully wet situation?
“Sorry, was trying to buckle the band with my locker key. It is more difficult than it looks. I should have been watching where I was going,”
Shut up Davina, you sound like a rambling idiot!
My fast words only produce another chuckle from him, as he smiles down at me.
“Don’t apologize, I liked it,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath creating a trail of goosebumps all over my skin as his chest rumbles in a growling sound, not unlike the one his son makes, only not with the angry undertones. Holy moly, the sound makes my wet situation turn into a flood!
Why is this happening to me? I am stronger than this? He ran away from me. Told me I was unlovable and ran. Literally, ran, faster than Usain Bolt, to get away from me. I need to have some pride, a semblance of self-respect, and get a bloody grip on myself.
I am speechless, but thankfully, Max saves me from further embarrassment as he tugs at my hand, and grabs hold of his father, pulling us both towards the showers, to rinse ourselves before practically running to the pool.
“Max, no running, it is slippery, and you could fall,” I shouted to him, my usual panic about the safety of my child taking over.
To be honest, I don’t know why I worry so much. My son is as tough as old boots. If he falls, he picks himself up and is not at all bothered by it. Not once has he scraped a knee. Come to think about it, he hasn’t had so much as a cold in his five years on this earth, not one single childhood illness, and yes, I am proud that I have protected him. No matter what anyone thinks about me giving birth to him whilst still a teenager, nobody can say I have not done everything in my power to protect my amazing boy.
Max bounds down the steps into the pool, utterly fearless, and jumps into the water, immediately heading to the deep end swimming doggy paddle.
“Mammy, there is a slide, can I go on it?” he shouted over to me.
“Yes, but give me two minutes son,” I grinned at him, not ready to leave the cover of water and have Mars see my body in a wet swimsuit, which will cling to every love handle I have.
“I will take him, if that is okay with you,” Mars offers, as he swims towards Max.
“Oh, yeah, okay,”
I guess he is here to bond with Max, but it feels alien to let my son go with somebody else, even if it is just a few feet away to a water slide, in full view of me. I am just so used to doing everything myself.
As Mars pushes his body up on the side of the pool, I drool. The muscles on his back tighten, and I notice he has three more tattoos running down his spine. The top is a full moon but filled with an orange colour, making it look like a harvest moon. The second is a half-moon, and the third a crescent moon, but with a quirky crown on the top. I watch, transfixed as he stands on the edge, Just when I cannot think he could get sexier, he has a bunch of tattoos which are like kryptonite to me. What is worse, he is instructing Max how to pull himself up safely, and every muscle in his back becomes pronounced. Oh Shit! I watch transfixed as he then takes my son's small hand in his large one and walks him to the slide, walking up the steps before settling at the top, with my son between his legs, as the pair of them slide down, creating a huge splash, and the sound of my son’s laughter echo’s making the older adults all look over, oohing and my ovaries explode. If I am honest, I am not sure if it is because of the cuteness of my son, or the hotness of his father. Damn, he is one fine man, and I have an internal battle with my body that lights up like a Christmas tree, with just one look at him.
We splash about, playing and swimming in the water for the 45 minutes allotted to us. The smile on Max’s face is contagious, but finally, it is time for me to get out of the water, and hope that Mars is busy with Max and doesn’t look at me.
As I get out of the pool, my insecurities hit me like a tidal wave as Mars stops with Max, his eyes trailing up and down my body, and instinctively, I cover myself with my arms. As I reach them, he leans over and whispers in my ear.
“Don’t cover yourself, you are perfect.”
His words cause me to gasp, my mind goes numb, stunned by his declaration, and heat consumes my body, as I look into his lust-filled eyes.
Then I remember that night, when he turned and ran from me, and the memory works like a bucket of ice-cold water the heat that has been building between us. I took Max’s hand, and pulled him to the changing rooms, determined not to let his father get under my skin.
Not now.
Not ever!