Alpha's Challenge: An MC Werewolf Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 4) Read online

  Alpha’s Challenge

  An MC Werewolf Romance

  (Bad Boy Alphas Book 4)

  by Renee Rose and Lee Savino

  How to Date a Werewolf:

  #1 Never call him Good Doggie.

  I’ve got a problem. A big, hairy… sexy problem. An enforcer from the Werewolves MC broke into my house and refuses to leave. He thinks I know the Werewolves’ secret, and he’s here to keep me quiet.

  #2 During a full moon, be ready to get freaky.

  By the time he decides I’m no threat, it’s too late. His wolf has claimed me for his mate.

  Too bad we can’t stand each other…

  # 3 Bad girls get eaten in the bedroom.

  ...until instincts take over. Things get wild. Naked under the full moon, this wolfman has me howling for more.

  # 4 Break ups can get hairy.

  Not even a visit from the mob, my abusive ex, my crazy mother and a road trip across the state in a hippie VW bus can shake him.

  #5 Beware the mating bite.

  Because there’s no running from a wolf when he decides you’re his mate.

  Copyright © December 2017 Alpha’s Challenge by Renee Rose and Lee Savino

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published in the United States of America

  Renee Rose Romance and Silverwood Press

  Editor: Kate Richards

  Wizards in Publishing

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to our wonderful, 11th hour beta readers, Katherine Deane and Aubrey Cara and to Margarita C. for her legal help and advice.

  Huge smooches to Kate Richards, our fabulous editor who always makes us read better and squeezes our books in between holidays and other projects when we’re on a hard deadline and to Miranda aka Mommy’s a Book Whore for extra editing and beta reading.

  Thank you to Lee’s Goddess Group and Renee’s Romper Room for your support and love. Thanks to our ARC readers and to L. Woods PR and the bloggers who support our releases. You are all amazing!

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Foxfire

  A small pop is my only warning before my soup explodes.

  “Dammit.” I rip open the microwave door. Only half my tomato soup is left, and the inside of my microwave looks like a murder scene.

  Good thing I already ordered a pizza.

  With a sigh, I shut the door on the gruesome red spatter. My stomach’s gurgling like I haven’t eaten in a day. Maybe I haven’t. I barely know what day it is. Day Eight of the Breakup From Hell, and the only thing keeping me connected to the outside world is my best friend.

  Speaking of best friends… I hit my one and only speed dial number. It goes straight to voice mail, catching me by surprise. Amber should be home, lying low after I rescued her from her own date from hell.

  I give up the call and shoot off a text, Just ordered a pizza—come share half?

  It’s probably too soon to mention her dating disaster. She’d only known the guy a few days, but he was her neighbor. Awkward. And yeah, he was hot, but since when does that give a guy an excuse to abandon a woman on the side of a mountain in the middle of a first date?

  My ex is a jackhole, and even he wouldn’t do that.

  Bring a picture of Garrett. I’ve got one of Benny, and a bunch of darts... I start to text, and delete it. Instead, I type, I’m giving up on men forever. Let’s get fat and adopt lots of cats.

  There. That’ll make her laugh.

  I pace around the house, noting piles of mail and takeout detritus that appeared over the past few days. Since the breakup, I’ve been practically a hermit. Benny still hasn’t come by, even to pick up his stuff.

  Not that I want him to. Rat bastard.

  Amber still hasn’t texted me back. Weird. It’s six p.m. on a Saturday night, but my best friend is usually home, alone. Like me.

  Geez, we’re pathetic. Maybe we really should adopt some cats.

  I text Amber again. Don’t adopt any cats without me.

  My mom was right. Men suck. I’ll be happy if I never see another man for the rest of my life. Except the pizza delivery guy. I’ll make an exception for him.

  When the doorbell rings, I dash out to the living room and open it, perhaps a wee bit too eagerly.

  “What do I owe…” My voice dies. I look up. And up. And up some more.

  Damn, this pizza delivery boy is tall. And stacked. Like The Rock or something. Six foot and then some, with shoulders almost too big for the door. Military buzz cut. Mirrored shades on his face... at dusk.

  Hey big boy, my foxy bits purr. No! Bad Foxfire!

  “Foxfire Hines?” He looks a bit disbelieving, like he can’t quite believe that’s my name. I get that a lot.

  “My mother is a hippie,” I say.

  “What?” His eyebrows shoot up over the shades.

  “My name. It’s because... my mom is a hippie. She thought it was pretty.”

  “Your mom.”

  “Yes.”

  “Your name is really Foxfire.” He sounds almost resigned, like he can’t believe the turn his life has taken, to deliver him to my door. I understand. I’ve never pledged my undying lust to a pizza guy. Both of us are having a night of firsts.

  “Were you waiting for me?” he asks.

  “Uh yeah.” Then it hits me, through the cloud of longing. What my brain was screaming over my libido. “Wait... where’s the pizza?”

  ~.~

  Tank

  Foxfire. Fucking ridiculous. The chick looks as crazy as her name. On paper, she’s okay. Graphic designer, good client list, pays her bills on time. Lives in a respectable adobe brick house near the university. So far, so good. In person, she’s a walking, talking freak show. Hair is dyed like a rainbow, something out of a cartoon. She’s also tiny, a petite pixie in short shorts and strappy tank. I could pick her up and hold her in my hand.

  Oh and she’s stunning. Even with the clown hair.<
br />
  This job’s either gonna be easy, or a huge pain in my ass.

  “Where’s the pizza?” She peers around me. Before she can protest, I push inside, noting the explosion of papers on every surface, bean bag chairs on the floor, a few dream catchers in the windows, and a lava lamp in the corner. The cartoon pixie lives in La La Land.

  “What are you doing?” She blinks at me, her starry eyes wide. Totally unafraid. A man twice her size just pushed into her house, and she’s asking about pizza. Most women would be freaked.

  Not this one.

  Like I said, La La Land.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say.

  “Okay.” She adds in a hopeful tone, “Did you leave the pizza in the car?”

  “No pizza. This is about Amber.”

  “Amber?” Her head snaps back, and she sucks in a breath.

  “Miss Hines, you better sit down.”

  To my surprise, she drops onto the only decent seat in the place, a battered couch. She responded to my authority right away. If she was pack, I’d say she was a feisty, but submissive wolf.

  Maybe this is going to be easy.

  “Is something wrong? Is Amber in trouble?”

  “Not yet. Not if you cooperate.”

  “What?” she whispers, the blood draining from her face. The scent of her fear fills the room, and my wolf raises his head. Because he fucking hates it.

  It’s my turn to suck in a breath. My wolf never pays any attention to humans. Not even pretty females with freaky hair.

  “I’m not here to hurt you.” Now, why did I promise that? I’m supposed to be intimidating her. My job is to get in, see what this female knows, and get her under control. Keep my pack safe. Easy. But now my wolf is all in a tizzy that we might be scaring her. Which is ridiculous. Since when does he care about a human’s feelings more than the safety of the pack?

  “I’d like this to be quick and painless, but it’s up to you. Amber talked to you this afternoon. I need to know what she said.”

  She stares at me.

  “This will go easier if you do as I say,” I add.

  Immediately, her back stiffens. “Did you just threaten me?”

  “Miss—”

  “Did you hurt Amber? Where is she?” She’s on her feet now, voice rising to a shout. This five-foot-nothing pixie acts like she’s going to challenge me. And my wolf… he thinks she’s even cuter when she’s mad.

  “You better not have touched her, buddy,” Foxfire hisses. “I told that moron Garrett, and I’m telling you. When it comes to Amber, back off.”

  She is challenging me. She also called my alpha a moron. She either is crazy, or suicidal.

  “Miss Hines—”

  “I meant it.” She pokes me in the stomach, and my dominant side surges. I catch her wrist and pull her forward, turning her at the last minute so she ends up tucked against me, back to my front, my body bent over hers and nose buried in her rainbow-colored hair. I catch the scent of her: strawberry shampoo, printer ink, a bit of hippie incense, and a wild smell that hovers out of reach, familiar, but not something I can place.

  She struggles but she’s trapped, a slender armful curved in all the right places. My dick takes this unfortunate moment to perk up.

  “Let me tell you how this is going to go, sweetheart,” I whisper in her ear. “I’m going to ask the questions. You’re going to give me answers. And if you’re very, very good, you and your friend will be fine. Understand?”

  “Let me go.” She rears up, stomping her feet on mine. Since mine are encased in biker boots, and hers are bare, it probably hurts her more than it hurts me. I lift her off her feet, and almost take a heel to my dick. I shift her to the side at the last moment, and her foot bounces off my thigh.

  “Help, murder! Rape!” Foxfire shrieks. I clamp my hand over her mouth, and she bites me. My wolf decides he’s in love.

  In the next few seconds, we’re down on the floor, my hand still over her mouth, my body weight pinning her. An interesting position for doing all sorts of things, my wolf points out. My dick agrees.

  I flip her so she’s facing me. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and her scent’s filled with fear, but her eyes spit fire.

  “That’s enough.” I force enough dominance into my tone to cow a whole pack of wolves. “Are you going to cooperate, or do I have to tie you up?”

  She makes a noise against my palm that sounds a lot like fuck you. I’m about to tell her I’d love to oblige, when the doorbell rings. The goddamn pizza is here.

  Maybe this isn’t going to be so easy.

  Chapter Two

  Foxfire

  As the doorbell echoes through my house, the big guy pinning me to the floor shifts so he’s holding most of his weight instead of smooshing me into the hardwood. Which is pretty considerate of him. I appreciate that sort of consideration, even in a man who burst into my house under the false pretense of pizza.

  The doorbell rings again.

  “Well?” My words come out muffled under his hand. “Are you going to get that?”

  He moves his hand. “Are you going to behave?”

  I lick my lips, and his gaze snaps to my mouth. He moves again, and suddenly I’m very aware of his impressive manhood pressed against my foxy bits. He’s a big boy. Very big.

  Oh my god, are we having a moment? I stare up at him. Strong jaw, firm lips. Heavily muscled body pressed to mine.

  My tongue darts out to lick my lips, and his eyes follow every move. The weapon in his pants jumps against my leg.

  I try to wriggle out from under him, and his grip tightens, reminding me that he’s a foot taller and a helluva lot stronger than I am. I could scream, but that might put the delivery man in jeopardy. And I’m pretty sure it would make Mr. Wrestling Champ mad. The result: bad things. For me, for the delivery man, probably for Amber. And I won’t get pizza.

  For some reason, I'm not afraid of him. He smells...right. When it comes to people, I tend to trust my sense of smell. As weird as that sounds, it works.

  Besides, I'm Foxfire Hines. I'm not afraid of anything, except toilet snakes.

  The doorbell chimes again.

  “I’ll behave,” I say, “If you pay for the pizza. But only because I care about Amber. And I’m hungry.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Pinky swear?” He’s pinned my wrists to the floor by my head, but I still can wriggle my baby finger.

  The dude studies me a moment. I smile all sweet and innocent. Trustworthy.

  He sighs and rises. “No funny business.” He points a warning finger at me. “I’m not here to hurt you, but if you cause trouble, I will punish you.”

  My foxy bits quiver. I’m not turned on, no way. My nipples tent my top because it’s cold. I wrap my arms around myself, just in case.

  My giant unwanted guest is at the door, exchanging bills for a white-and-red square box. Not screaming was the right call. The delivery man isn’t nearly as big and tall, and hasn’t hit the gym in a while. Mr. Muscles looks like he lives in one, and sleeps on a bench press machine in between reps.

  “Don’t forget the tip,” I call.

  A scowl, and my unwanted guest angles away from me. Yowza. The back is just as tight as the front.

  I must have zoned out a little perving on the guy, because the next thing I know he’s coming back toward me, pizza box in one hand, catching my elbow and propelling me to the couch with the other.

  “Sit,” he orders, and I do. As soon as my butt hits the couch, I reach for the pizza.

  “Not so fast. First, we talk.”

  “This is cruel and unusual punishment,” I blurt.

  He gives me another what the hell? look, which I easily ignore. I get those a lot.

  “Well, it is unusual. And cruel. I’m hungry.”

  “I’m gonna feed you. I need to ask you some questions first.” He puts the pizza in front of me on the coffee table and props his boot on the edge between me and the object of my desire. Of course, this
gives me a full on view of his crotch, displaying another potential object of my desire.

  No! Bad Foxfire!

  “Your friend’s been talking about us. I’m here to see how much you know.”

  “Us? Who’s us?” Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to his face. Now that I think of it, he does look familiar. Another neighbor of Amber’s? Garrett’s whole gang seems to live in the apartment building he owns. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Tank.”

  Tank. I don’t question the weird name. Pot, kettle and all that. Besides, don’t gang members all get badass nicknames when they go through initiation? I’d ask him, but I doubt he’s up to fielding questions about gang life. And since he’s built like, well, a tank, I’m going to let him get his way.

  For now.

  “All right, Mr. Tank—”

  “Just Tank.”

  “Just Tank,” I correct, and he closes his eyes in frustration. Excellent. “What do you want to know?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Earlier today you confronted Garrett outside Amber’s apartment. You accused him of being a werewolf.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “I need to know what she told you about us.”

  “She didn’t tell me anything. We were talking about her bad date. You guys were just mentioned in passing.”

  “What exactly did she say?”

  “I can’t tell you that. It would break the girl code.”

  “Miss Hines,” he growls.

  “Call me Foxfire.”

  “Miss Hines.” His voice gets even more deep and growly, “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. Amber learned some things about us, and was sworn into confidence by our leader, Garrett. Because she talked, she could be in trouble.”