His Wildest Dream: A Portville Mpreg Romance

By Xander Collins

Dreams really do come true ...

When Daniel goes into a debilitating super-heat while delivering a package to the office of one of the wealthiest men in town, he is horrified. It’s not like any other heat he’s had before, and he finds out it could have been caused by some very compatible pheromones.

Those of billionaire Cameron Styles.

He can’t fathom that Cameron could be interested in a poor, young omega like him, but when he’s asked to move into Cameron’s penthouse condo, he can’t turn down the chance to live out some of his dreams.

Cameron has hidden himself away in his penthouse ever since his omega partner was killed in an accident. He has made sure to not come into contact with anyone who might set off his powerful alpha hormones, or touch his heart.

Until Daniel walks into his office, that is.

After Cameron inhales Daniel’s scent and sees the sweetness in his eyes, he can’t get him out of his mind. But he’s afraid of love and pain, and most of all, of scaring an innocent omega with his depraved desires.

Can two people from different backgrounds let go of the pain in their pasts and come together to find the love they’re searching for?

His Wildest Dream is a Cinderfella-style non-shifter omegaverse romance of 46k words. It includes a May/December relationship between a sweet, innocent omega from a poor part of town and a reclusive billionaire single dad, and is served up with a side of kink.

It is a very sweet, incredibly hot mpreg romance with kids, babies, a lavish wedding, and a super-HEA that will have you smiling from ear to ear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: X Collins
• Release date: Jan 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463808825

Xander Collins

Xander Collins writes super sexy, romantic omegaverse stories with the warm fuzzies, hot dudes, and cuddly babies we all crave.Subscribe to Xander's new release newsletter and receive the exclusive bonus book Mpreg Boat.https://eepurl.com/dhZ269

Book preview

1

Daniel

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Hey, kid! Watch where you’re going!

I’d just brought my bike to a screeching halt at an intersection where I had the right of way. The dude who yelled at me was making a right turn and didn’t even look before he got in the bike lane and cut me off.

Oh yeah? I yelled. Well, you better … But that was all that came out. I’d never been any good at slinging insults or defending myself in general. Not as a kid, and not when I got older. My dad always intimidated me, and I did everything I could to be the perfect ‘seen and not heard’ son. Then for years, after I’d been kicked out of my home and was living on the streets, I stayed in the shadows of the warehouse buildings where I squatted at night to avoid any kind of confrontation. I learned quickly that you needed street smarts to survive, and my street smarts revolved around staying invisible.

Now that things were looking up and I had a job as a bike messenger, I totally noticed the invisibility working in my favor. In the last couple of months, I’d been yelled at, given the finger, scared half to death by someone laying on their horn, and almost killed more times than I could count. My best defense was skimming right past those assholes, who’s cars kept them stuck in gridlocked traffic, and disappearing.

I loved the feeling of a quick getaway.

One of my favorite things in the world was making a delivery downtown first thing in the morning. The company I worked for was on the East side of Portville, and most days I had to cross one of the bridges that went over a huge river that split the city in half. Some days I took the pedestrian-only bridge, which was awesome because there were no cars on there at all.

I could ride as fast as I wanted and feel the amazing, cool morning breeze on my face as I passed everyone by. I had this thing I’d do. I’d start out peddling really fast on the uphill side of the bridge. Then, by the time I got to the top and could coast, I could see the whole town and the river and everything. The wind on my face and the way everything looked gave me waves of tingles that rushed through my body.

It was the most amazing feeling and felt like I was on top of the whole world.

It felt like everything around me—the water, the sky, the buildings, the other people—they were all moving through me and I was just there to experience it all. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it felt so amazing to me and put me in a super good mood.

Unfortunately, today I had a delivery on the North side of downtown Portville. That meant that the pedestrian bridge was kind of out of the way, so I took the Buckthorn bridge.

And that was where I was almost smashed to smithereens by the yelling dude.

I watched his red face glare at me as he made his turn—right in front of me—then continued on my way. I decided I wasn’t going to let him ruin my morning. As I peddled through the busy streets, I kept my eyes peeled for suddenly-opening car doors, and people walking out into the street in the middle of the block. Then I wove my way to a huge building of condos just past Old Town.

When I reached the building, I threw one leg over my bike and hit the brakes, coming to a stop and jumping off right in front of a bank of bike racks. Portville was a super bike friendly town and you could find a good place to lock your bike just about anywhere. And this morning I definitely had to lock my bike up. The envelope in my bag specifically said hand delivery, which meant I couldn’t just drop it with the receptionist. I had to go all the way up to the office on the twentieth floor and deliver it in person.

I looked up at the tall building with ‘The Marguerite’ written across the entrance in smooth, metal letters. It looked like a residential tower, which surprised me. I’d never delivered to anything but businesses before, and the envelope even said it was going to an office suite.

Hey, I said to the woman sitting behind the reception desk in the silent lobby. I jumped a little at the echo of my own voice, then spoke a little lower. I have a delivery for … Cameron Styles, I said, reading off the large envelope.

I can take that, she said with an outstretched hand.

No, sorry, I gotta hand deliver it. See? I said, pointing to the label. "It says right here … Must be delivered in person. Signature required."

That’s fine, the woman said, pushing a big three-ringed binder toward me. You’ll have to sign in, then. Cameron Styles is on the penthouse floor. I’ll unlock that floor on the elevator from here, so when you get on, just hit P and it’ll take you right up. Then when the elevator opens, you’ll see the glass doors with his name straight ahead.

I filled in my name and the time, then looked back up. Okay, thanks.

I turned and walked through the silent lobby, my sneakers squeaking with each step. On my left were a bunch of white couches and chairs that looked like they’d never been sat in. Above them were abstract paintings on the walls seemed cold and strange.

Just when I got to the elevator, the doors opened and a man in a suit stepped off. When his eyes landed on me, I could tell he immediately decided that I was one of the working-class people who passed through the building, but didn’t live there. He moved past me without smiling, and as I pushed P and the elevator doors closed, I heard the woman at the front desk talk to him like he was a movie star or something.

I sure as hell didn’t get that kind of greeting from her.

The elevator took me up quickly, and before I knew it, the doors opened and I was standing in front of a glass wall that looked into an almost empty room. Cameron Styles was scrawled across in a fancy, italic font, with CEO, Styles Investments, LLC written underneath.

I realized that the glass wall was actually two huge doors, and when I pushed lightly one of them, it opened up on its own. I walked in and looked around. There was a glass desk with a thin monitor on a metal stand sitting on top, but no phone or keyboard. It reminded me of a deserted futuristic building in some sci-fi movie.

But the weird thing was, in total contrast to the coldness of the room, the scent in the air was unbelievable. It was a combination of the most cozy, comforting smells I could think of. A soft leather couch, a forest of pine trees, a cup of hot cocoa, and even a little bit of vanilla. I wanted to curl up in a corner and inhale the scent all day.

No one seemed to be around, so I walked in a little further, checking out the view. One entire wall of the room was windows and looked out on the entire downtown area. It was incredible.

May I help you? a woman’s voice said from behind me. When I turned around, I was surprised to see an actual lady smiling at me. This whole place was so cold and sterile—except for the incredible scent that filled the room—and for a second, I’d actually been expecting to be greeted by some sort of grim-faced robot.

It took me a second to snap out of my stupor. Hi … yeah … I have a delivery for Cameron Styles.

I can take that, she said. Do you need me to sign for it?

Oh, yeah, I said, fumbling around as I took the envelope out of my bag. Uh … right here is fine.

The woman signed her name on the line I pointed to, and I ripped off the delivery receipt. I glanced up at her and she was still smiling at me. She seemed really nice and I kind of wished I could just hang out there for a while and check out the view some more. Plus, I couldn’t get enough of that amazing, woodsy scent.

I kept telling my feet to move and my hand to give the lady the envelope, but I just couldn’t get any part of my body to cooperate. I was even starting to feel a stirring in my pants, which was freaking insane. I was on a job and I wasn’t even into women. I had no idea what was making me feel so weird, but luckily the nice lady didn’t seem to notice.

Just as I was about to open my mouth and apologize for taking so long, I heard a voice and turned my head to see a man in a dark suit come out of a door that I hadn’t noticed before.

Janine, I need these to be sent out in today’s mail.

The man was tall and well-built and he looked like he might as well have been modeling the suit he was wearing, because it fit him perfectly. I could tell by the few grays in his dark hair that he was older, but even with that, he could have easily been a model.

And he was all alpha.

He’d taken a few steps into the room, but suddenly froze in place. He still held the stack of envelopes in his hand, but his eyes zeroed in on me.

Suddenly, that distinctive scent that was in the air when I walked into the office completely surrounded me like a warm, fuzzy blanket. The deep, rich woodsy scent with the touch of sweetness and coziness felt like it was closing in on me and whisking me away. I could feel the scent swirling around me, as if it were something real that I could touch. The scent tickled my skin and moved against it softly, causing every hair on my body to stand on end.

But that wasn’t all that was standing on end. I was suddenly rock hard as that incredible scent entered me. It was so overwhelming and distracting that I couldn’t remember where I was or what I was doing there. I could barely stand up straight, so I moved over to the glass desk to steady myself.

I’d never experienced anything like it in my life. I felt hypnotized, not only by the overpowering scent of the man who had just entered the room, but by his piercing eyes. It was as if I’d fallen into darkness and the light in his sea blue eyes was the only thing I could see at the end of a tunnel. An incredibly strong feeling of longing inside me tugged at my heart, urging be toward the light in those eyes.

It felt like we’d both been standing there staring at each other for hours, but really it was probably just a few seconds. I saw the alpha’s mouth moving but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. His eyes were the only thing I could focus on. They were so bright and sharp, and I wanted to do anything and everything they told me to do. And I swear, the alpha’s eyes were telling me to come to him.

I kept thinking, Just take me now. Please, take me now. I couldn’t move my mouth to form the words, so I just pleaded with my eyes. I begged him to take me right there and then. But he didn’t. My brain screamed NO! when he turned and walked back through the door.

In my haze I heard the woman say, Yes, Mr. Styles, then felt I hands squeeze both of my arms.

That was Cameron Styles? The alpha that had just left me in this state? I repeated his name over and over in my head, and each time I said the words, a wave of tingles flooded through me. I finally realized the woman was still gripping my arms and it took every ounce of strength I had to look away from the closed door where he had disappeared.

Are you okay? the woman asked. Do you need a glass of water?

When my eyes finally moved so that they were looking at hers, I snapped back to reality—or as close to reality as I could be in that moment. I suddenly realized there was sweat pouring down my face and back and my mouth had gone completely dry.

I looked down at the envelope that was still in my hand and it was shaking. My whole body was shaking. I was afraid I was going to fall over so I continued to grip the edge of the desk. I don’t know, I said, bringing my hand up to my forehead and feeling how slick it was with moisture. I feel a little funny.

I tried to look back up at the woman, but my vision was starting to fade and I instinctively lowered my head, hoping to avoid blacking out.

I’m going to take you to the guest room, the woman said. You can rest there for a little while.

I tried to say something. I wanted to let her know that I was fine, that I would be back to normal in a few minutes. I’d never been sick a day in my life. I’d had broken bones, but I’d never passed out or gotten a fever like this. Never.

But I couldn’t get my mouth to form any words. All that came out was an undignified whimper as I felt the incredibly sensitive head of my cock rub up against the fabric of my jeans. I suddenly hoped that wherever the woman was taking me wasn’t very far away, because, even in my half-conscious state, I was completely humiliated by the fact that my body seemed to be so out of control.

My very first thought was low blood sugar. But I had eaten breakfast, so it couldn’t be that. Then I wondered if maybe I had been exposed to some kind of bug. But now that I could feel the wetness in between my legs, and the constant throbbing of my cock, I knew that I was going into heat.

But this wasn’t like any heat I’d ever experienced in my life. I’d seen this sort of thing before, though. Sometimes my mom would be laid up for an entire week. She would tell me that she was fine, but her moans and screams during that week always scared the hell out of me.

She would usually call her sister to come stay with us during those times and I was always amazed by how aunt Jenna could just sit there so stoically, crocheting on her afghan, while my mother sounded like she was being tortured in the other room.

She always came out of it fine, though. Exhausted and usually a little skinnier, but fine.

I wondered

Reviews for His Wildest Dream

[L'eau · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Sweet story, but both protagonists were way too gushy for me, and it needs more editing like the first two books of the series.