Adrenaline Rush: M/M Mpreg Alpha Male Romance (Never Too Late Book 2) Read online

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  Adrenaline Rush

  (Never Too Late Book 2)

  Aiden Bates

  Important information…

  This book, “Adrenaline Rush” is the second book in the Never Too Late Series. However, this book and every other book in the series (more books coming soon!) can be read as a stand-alone. Thus, it is not required to read the first book to understand the second (as so on). Each book can be read by itself.

  Table of Contents

  Important information…

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bonus Chapter 16

  Preview Chapter: Omega’s Kiss

  The story may be over but

  Chapter One

  Pete sat on the floor of the bank vault along with the rest of the hostages. He couldn't think of a time when he'd been less comfortable, or more afraid. Hostage situations tended to end badly, at least for someone. Pete didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out his chances.

  The six-month pregnant omega couldn't run as fast as the guy in the track team letterman jacket. And the pregnant omega would make a great statement for the bad guys, wouldn't he? "Hey, look how much we mean business! We just shot a pregnant omega in the head! Now give in to all of our demands or we'll take someone else out."

  At least it would be quick, he supposed.

  The thought was cold comfort as he pressed his back up against the wood of the stand where the deposit slips rested. What had he been thinking, anyway? He shouldn't have come into the bank. It wasn't like banks didn't have mobile deposits, or drive-up ATMs, or ATM deposits, or any one of dozens of other ways to put money from his clients into his account. Hell, Pete could just insist that his clients pay him electronically.

  If he survived this, he was going to make sure he did exactly that.

  The kid in the letterman jacket leaned over to Pete and whispered to him. "Do you think the cops are here yet?"

  One of the robbers took the butt of his handgun and smacked the kid across the face with it. "No talking!" he barked, in a raspy baritone voice. The kid cried out, and so did a couple of the tellers who sat with them.

  Pete did not cry out. Pete bit his lip, almost hard enough to bite through it, but he did not cry out. Pete didn't want to give the bad guys any excuses. If circumstances were different, maybe he'd be a little bit more willing to stand up to the robbers. As it was, he wasn't just worrying about himself. He might not have planned to get pregnant, but he loved and wanted this little girl growing inside of him and he was looking forward to being her parent. He couldn't risk them doing anything to hurt her.

  So he bit down on his lip and tried to make himself as small as possible so as not to draw attention. It wasn't easy for a guy his height, or with what was basically a basketball sticking out from under his shirt, but he had to try.

  The hostage takers were agitated about something. That made sense. They'd come in to rob a bank and something had gone wrong; of course they were agitated about something. Pete tried to think beyond the naked panic that made a cold sweat break out all over his body. What could possibly go wrong in a robbery? Bank robbers didn't like to linger when it came to robbing a bank. Time wasn't their friend. They wanted to get in, get what they could grab, and get out.

  They'd been here for half an hour.

  That meant that the cops were here. It had to. The thought wasn't as comforting as it should have been.

  The robbers were agitated. Their guns were out, and all four of them had a finger on the trigger. Nervous people with their fingers on triggers led to accidents, and the armed cops outside would only hear a gunshot. They had no way to know if the gunshot had gone into the floor, the ceiling, or a hostage.

  They were supposed to be looking down, and not at their captors, but Pete risked a glance up anyway. The masks had come off. He looked down quickly. That wasn't good. If the masks were off, that meant that the captors didn't care about witnesses. They didn't plan to leave any behind.

  One of the captors picked up the phone. "All right," he said. "You're obviously not taking this seriously. I'm going to prove that we mean business." He slammed the phone back into its cradle. "Grab someone visible."

  One of the other robbers, another teenager with a pencil-thin mustache, walked through the assembled hostages. Pete held his breath as the robber paused near the place where he was holed up, but after a moment's consideration the kid moved on.

  He grabbed the elderly security guard by one arm. "I think he'll do, Jeff."

  "Wait, wait! There's no need for violence." The security guard's voice was reedy and weak. He didn't struggle, but he might not have been able to struggle much. Pete thought he might have been in his eighties. He wheezed as the robber dragged him over to the bank door.

  "Put your hands up, Grandpa." Jeff jammed his handgun into the back of the old man's head.

  Pete couldn't look away. A different subordinate unlocked the bank door and opened it. From the sound of it, there was a massive police response, because it sounded like dozens of guns came online as the door opened.

  Jeff wasn't fazed. He shot the security guard in the back of the head and kicked him out the door. The underling pulled the door shut again and locked it.

  A few people screamed. Most of them cried. A few tears escaped Pete's eyes. Jeff had just shot an old man, in cold blood. It could have been any of them. It had almost been him. Oh God, he wasn't getting out of this alive.

  Jeff picked up the phone. "Next time it's the pregnant guy we've got in here. You've got fifteen minutes to meet our demands, got it?"

  Pete tried not to shake. There was nothing that he could do to get out of this, was there? There wasn't any way that the cops would be able to get three cars there in time, not the kind they wanted, and even if they could the cops weren't going to do it just for him. They couldn't get their hands on four million in cash and no one could get fifty pizzas to a bank in fifteen minutes. That wasn't even remotely possible.

  At least it will be quick. At least it will be quick. At least it will be quick.

  If Pete repeated that phrase to himself often enough, he might believe it.

  He moved his hand over the swell of his abdomen. He knew that it was impossible for his developing baby girl to have any idea what was going on, of course. Her brain wasn't even really formed yet. Still, she moved inside of him with a kind of bubbly joy, like she was trying to reassure her daddy that everything was going to be okay. He wished he could have offered her more. He wished he could have offered her life, and everything that went along with it. First steps, first words, first day of school—everything.

  Glass shattered.

  Pete wrapped his scarf around his mouth and nose. He didn't know if that would help. He still didn't know what was happening, but he knew the best bet for survival would be to stay down and try not to get caught in any crossfir
e. He couldn't exactly flatten himself onto the ground, but he got onto his side and did his best to try to protect his abdomen.

  Purple smoke filled the room. Seriously? Purple? A small section of Pete's brain had time to wonder about that as the rest of him prayed that he'd get out of this alive. Gunfire erupted both indoors and out, punctuated by even more breaking glass and other hostages screaming.

  A few of the other hostages started to struggle to their feet. "Stay down!" Pete barked. He didn't know if they could hear him through the scarf, but he had to try. "The cops won't know whose side you're on!"

  Most of them got back down on the floor. A couple didn't, staggering off into the smoke.

  Pete's heart was somewhere up around his Adam's apple, but he didn't have time to panic. He was on his own. He needed to stay alert and try to find a way to get out of this, and hopefully find a way out for himself and his daughter.

  Sporadic bursts of gunfire echoed off the walls. Pete couldn't be sure that the different shooters were even aiming for anyone. He opened his eyes, grateful for the fact that the smoke rose, and found one of the criminals only a few inches away from him, hugging the floor.

  The robber winked at him and pressed a finger to his lips. Rage welled up inside of Pete then. He couldn't see the man's gun. That didn't mean he didn't have it, but the idea that he would now try to sneak out with the hostages made Pete ill. He pulled his foot back and kicked the man in the jaw, as hard as he could.

  He must have gotten him just right, or maybe the guy had a glass jaw or something. Either way, the robber passed out.

  A man in dark body armor, with the words STATE POLICE written out in white across the chest, waddled over to him in a semi-crouch. He had a massive gun strapped to his chest, but he reached out a hand to Pete. "Come on, buddy. I'm here to get you out."

  Pete almost passed out. The tall SWAT team member was an alpha. He was an alpha who smelled like fresh buttered popcorn.

  Pete considered his options. This was not the time to be thinking about alphas. There were still plenty of bullets flying, and one could hit him at any moment. At the same time, the same thing could happen if he stayed in place. He nodded and let the strange cop shield him as they both crouched over to the emergency exit.

  The problem with the smoke was that while it hid the cops from the crooks, it also hid the crooks from the cops. By the time Pete and his rescuer made it back over to the emergency exit, Jeff had found his way over there too. His lip curled and he aimed his gun right at Pete.

  Just as he pulled the trigger, SWAT Alpha knocked Pete out of the way. Pete fell to the floor and Jeff shouted, turning his gun toward SWAT Alpha.

  Pete covered his mouth with his hand. He couldn't let Jeff kill SWAT Alpha. He wrapped one of his legs around Jeff's ankle and slammed his other foot into the thief's knee as hard as he could. Jeff screamed in agony as he went down, firing his gun into the ceiling instead of into SWAT Alpha.

  SWAT Alpha stomped on Jeff's wrist, the one that held the gun. Two other cops ran in from outside and helped to grab the robber, and SWAT Alpha turned to Pete. "Are you okay?" He held out his hand to help Pete up.

  Pete accepted the help. "I'm a little bruised, but I think we'll make it." He blushed under the alpha's gaze. SWAT Alpha couldn't be this attractive, could he? It had to be the adrenaline rush, the sudden flood of relief of not having died.

  SWAT Alpha ushered him outside and over to a staging area, out beyond some barricades the police had set up. "I'd be more comfortable if you got checked out at the hospital. I mean, that was quite a fall you took, and a lot of stress. That's some precious cargo you've got." He licked his lips. "Is there someone that I can call for you? Your alpha, maybe?"

  Pete frowned. SWAT Alpha had to know that he didn't have an alpha. He would know that by scent. "There's no alpha." He looked away. Was he trying to humiliate him?

  "Oh. I'm sorry." SWAT Alpha shuffled his feet a little. "You never know. Sometimes stuff happens, I don't know. I'm going to shut up now. Anyway. We've got ambulances standing by; you might as well go and get checked out."

  Pete sighed. "Yeah. Okay." An ambulance seemed a little excessive to him, frankly, but the SWAT Alpha was right. With the baby, there was no such thing as too careful. He let SWAT Alpha escort him over to a fleet of ambulances, where EMTs buckled him in.

  SWAT Alpha handed him a card. "Look, if you need anything at all, even if it's just a ride back to your car, let me know."

  Pete looked down at the card. "Detective Osmund Morris, Cold Case Squad?" He lifted an eyebrow. "That's an awful lot of body armor for cold cases."

  Morris huffed out a little laugh. "Yeah, well, can't afford to have a whole squad just twiddling their thumbs waiting for stuff to hit the fan, you know? Have to have a day job too." He winked. "Anyway, they're going to want to take a statement, so make sure someone has your contact info."

  Pete passed him a card of his own. "Thank you for your help today."

  Morris laughed. "Thank you. You saved my life. That guy was going to kill me, but you thought quick on your feet. Or ass, whichever."

  Pete's laugh might have had a touch of hysteria to it, but he guessed that he could be excused. "Thanks for that. Dignity is overrated."

  "Tell me about it." Morris grinned at him, and looked at him for long enough that the EMTs had to tell him to get a move on.

  They took him out to MetroWest Medical Center, where they asked him to stay overnight for observation. Personally, Pete thought that was excessive, but he agreed just to be on the safe side. He didn't want to take unnecessary risks with his daughter.

  The next morning, he got a clean bill of health from the doctor, who pronounced him well if bruised and his daughter perfect in every way. Then he called his mother, who sent her driver to come and bring him back to his place in Sudbury.

  Cops came by to take his statement after he'd had a chance to shower and change. He told them everything, including the detail about kicking the guy in the jaw. Then they left again, and Pete decided to hide in his bedroom for the rest of the day and quietly break down for a little while.

  He'd just witnessed a murder, a near murder, and a violent hostage situation. He'd faced down his own death. He figured he was entitled.

  He'd go back to work tomorrow. In the meantime, he could go ahead and let himself get through what he'd just seen.

  At least there had been Morris, the hot SWAT Alpha. He'd been handsome and smelled good. He'd been sweet, too. In fact, he could do a lot to make up for the truly awful day. He'd never actually want Pete—no alpha would want a guy who was pregnant with another man's child—but the fantasy was fun.

  He settled into a sleep that was much less fitful than he'd expected.

  ...

  Ozzy landed on the mat with a barely audible thump. The staff member on duty in the indoor climbing center looked him over. The guy was a beta, but he definitely had an appreciation for men. "Not bad," he commented as Ozzy stretched his arms out. "We don't usually get a lot of guys free climbing like that."

  Ozzy looked him up and down, not making any secret of his intentions. "Yeah, well, I've got to keep myself in form somehow. Not a lot of good ways to climb this time of year, you know? Not around here, anyway."

  "Not unless you're into ice, anyway." The blond chuckled.

  "I could be up for that sometime." The truth was, Ozzy hadn't ever done ice climbing. It was on his bucket list, but he hadn't gotten a chance to try it yet. "Got any good places to go?"

  "I've got a place to go up in the White Mountains. Give me a call sometime and I'll hook you up." The attendant reached into his drawer and pulled out a card.

  Ozzy looked at it. "Thanks, Marty. I'll do that." He gave Marty Shaw, Hiking and Climbing Guide, a wink and then headed for the locker room. He'd definitely give Marty a call, and probably a little bit more.

  Just as soon as the thought entered his head, the image of the handsome omega from that hostage situation a couple of days ago popped into
his head. That had happened every single time he thought of an attractive guy lately. It didn't matter what the circumstances were. He could catch a glimpse of Robles' omega walking down the hall and BAM! There would be the image of Pete Nolan, Photographer. He could be at a bar, talking to a nice and possibly amiable young man and then there he'd be again. Pete Nolan. He could be watching porn in the privacy of his own room and there he'd be yet again, and if that wasn't all sorts of wrong Ozzy didn't know what was.

  He washed up quickly, got dressed, and headed into the office. He needed to get his head out of the clouds and maybe call Pete Nolan. If nothing else, it would get his head out of the clouds about the guy.

  The ride to work didn't take long, and if there was a little bit more tension in his step than there usually would have been, no one said anything about it. Everyone knew Ozzy got a little tense sometimes. They just rolled with it, just like they rolled with Nick's rigidity or Langer's touchy-feely hippy crap or Nenci's outright assholery. That was why the unit worked so well together.