Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but a gruff laugh cut her off.
Sarge emerged from behind a stack of supply crates, his weathered face split in a knowing grin.
"Oh, yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw your unmated boy last night. Wandering around near the eastern perimeter like he'd lost his damn mind." His grin widened. "Trying to find the source of the smell, I'd reckon. Coming from Felicity and her mates."
Heat flooded Felicity's face so fast she thought her skin might combust. The scent, of course. Her pregnancy had intensified it, made it richer, more potent, and they were having some hardcore sex. And Tim, with his tiger senses…
She buried her face in Exile's chest, pressing her burning cheeks against the rough fabric of his shirt. His arm came around her immediately, a wall of muscle and warmth, and she heard the low, warning rumble that vibrated through his chest.
