Alpha's Desire Page 7

  She doesn’t say a word. Neither of us do. She takes my cock out and wraps her slender fingers around the base.

  The minute her lips part, pre-cum leaks out. I’m about two seconds from spending, which isn’t like me. I pride myself on stamina. But apparently I have none where this girl is concerned. Especially considering I’ve been blue-balled for her for days now.

  “Fuck, angel,” I grit when she licks around the head. “You’re going to get off easy, because I’m about two pumps away from coming.”

  I love the satisfied smile she flashes right before she takes me deep.

  Oh fates. My balls tighten up, thighs go rigid. I grasp the back of her head and pump into her mouth like a total jackass. I can’t help myself. I need relief so bad I’m going blind.

  “Angelina,” I choke, trying not to shove all the way down her throat.

  She tightens her hold on my cock, and jacks her fist. Her tongue swirls on the underside of my member, lips suction tight.

  “Baby—”

  I give her control again, and she pumps her mouth in concert with her fist, making it feel like she’s taking my full length.

  “Fuck. Fuck yes. I’m going to come,” I warn her so she can pop off, but she stays on, sucking hard enough to pull the chrome off a bumper. I come in her devastating, hot mouth, my eyes rolling back in my head.

  She sucks me clean and stands up while I shove my cock back in my jeans.

  “Goddamn.” I snag her nape and pull her face up to mine. “Remind me to threaten the welfare of your tights again.”

  She gives a surprised laugh that lights up her face and I drink it in, still riding the euphoria of my release. “Well, your boner was looking pretty painful.”

  I grin. “I can’t help it. You’re more dressed at the nightclub, and you already know how I feel about what you wear there.”

  She laughs, a husky sound that revives my cock far too soon. It seems I’m going to be permahard for this girl. “You sure it wasn’t seeing all the dancers out there?” There’s a pointedness to the question and I don’t forget her little show of jealousy in the hallway. It’s important I set her straight.

  “No, baby. Just you.” Her tits are still hanging out and I pinch both nipples gently. “But you’re welcome to stake a public claim on me, anytime. I sure as hell enjoyed it.”

  She blushes, but she’s still smiling, and I steal a brief kiss.

  “Don’t think this will get you out of your spanking later, though.”

  She flushes a deeper red, but leans right up against me. I cup her ass and pull her hips up on mine. “Do werewolves have girlfriends?”

  The question is so innocent, but it’s loaded.

  For both of us.

  I ease off my grip on her ass and sag against the wall. “No.” It fucking kills me to say it, especially when I see her expression shutter. “Not with humans.”

  “Oh.” She busies herself with putting her tits away and I want to smash my own face in.

  “Listen—”

  “No, you don’t have to say anything.” Her voice sounds forced. “I knew you weren’t the boyfriend type from the beginning. That’s why I was putting on the brakes.”

  I curl my fingers into my palms to keep from reaching for her. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to respect your boundaries. It’s just really fucking hard. Humans don’t usually tweak me as much as you do.”

  This earns me eye contact again, which comes as a visceral relief. “I tweak you?”

  I drag my lower lip through my teeth. “So fucking much.” I adjust my cock, which is already growing again. “But I’ll give it rest. Thanks for taking the edge off.”

  She pinches my nipple through my t-shirt. It’s a sassy move, considering I’m the guy who likes to be the aggressor, but I let her do it. “Well, I should get to class.”

  “Yeah.” I open the door for her and let her go through it, but I don’t follow. She needs her space, as much as I can give it. I wait until she’s almost around the corner before I leave the room.

  Dammit.

  It feels like I just swallowed a round of lead.

  Agent Dune

  Facial recognition software pulls absolutely nothing on the faces he has from the lab bombing. Including Nash’s. It’s almost as if they’ve been buried on purpose. But by whom? His superiors? Or someone on their side? It would take some extremely sophisticated security hacks to be able to fuck with their system, but he’s learned never to underestimate anyone. Never underestimate, never make assumptions. You have to stay open to crazy fucking possibilities if you want the real answers.

  If he wouldn’t have written things off as impossible back when he first saw something unreal about Nash, he might’ve learned something about his past. What his father was. What happened to him.

  So he wasn’t going to let the chance slip this time. He’d find the bombers, yeah. But he also was going to uncover whatever fucking secret was being kept at those blown up labs. Whatever Data-X had been up to. Genetic engineering was his guess.

  And more than one party wanted it covered up. More than one party has a stake in it.

  An incoming alert makes him return his focus to the facial screens.

  A match.

  He read the file. One Parker Jones.

  Picked up for questioning related to illegal betting in San Diego.

  Subject did not cooperate. Suspected of organizing cage fights and serving as bookie for said fights.

  Well, looks like he has a suspect to stake out. He gathers his equipment and already packed bag, checks his weapons and leaves the small government-provided safehouse.

  Parker Jones, prepare to give me some fucking answers.

  6

  Angelina

  “Turn left here,” I direct Jared. He’s insisted on driving again, but I’m fine with it because:

  A) I get curbside pickup.

  B) He stayed out of my way, plus picked up lunch for me, Remy and Talya.

  C) All the catty dancers are jealous.

  Of course, now everyone thinks he and I are a couple. Too bad werewolves don’t date.

  “So, what? You can have sex with humans, but we’re not good enough for a relationship?”

  Dammit.

  I was trying to hold that question in. Now I sound like a love-scorned shrew.

  The look Jared shoots me is pure misery, which makes it even worse. “No, baby. That’s not it.”

  I wait as he seems to struggle for words. “Wolves are violent. You might call us primitive. Me, especially. When a wolf mates, it’s usually for life. He bites his female to mark her and permanently embed his scent into her skin—to warn other males away. Once wolves are mated, the possessiveness doesn’t fade. That’s why I say it’s usually for life. Even if a couple doesn’t get along, a wolf would never let his mate go. He’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. The attraction never fades.”

  I stare at Jared in shock, trying to decide if he’s purposely trying to warn me off. He shrugs. “So yeah. I can’t drag you into something like that. You might not even survive the mating bite.”

  I try to ignore the pleasure tingling through me at the way he’s talking as if he’s even considered mating me.

  I mean, in human terms, we’re talking marriage, not dating. But I appreciate the fact that he’s not willing to lead me along when there’s no chance of a long-term future. I’m also trying to ignore the fact that his description of a wolf’s possessiveness turns me on. It shouldn’t. It should definitely scare me. I mean, what if the guy was abusive? That would be a legitimate nightmare. But what if he was charming and considerate? Protective to a fault? What if he looked at you like you were the most fascinating creature he’d ever seen? Couldn’t keep his hands off you?

  I’m not sure I’d be sad about being tied to that situation for the rest of my life.

  I mean, hell. If it weren’t for the biting part, I might be ready to sign up right now.

  Of course there’s the not so s
mall issue of my parents never accepting a guy like Jared.

  I direct Jared to turn into the parking lot of my grandma’s nursing home. I visit her every Monday and Thursday. She’s my dad’s mom, and Lord knows he doesn’t make time to see her. Just like he never made time for me, growing up. All that man does is work.

  But I don’t just come out of guilt or obligation. When she’s lucid, she’s awesome to be around. But sometimes I show up and she’s confused, even belligerent. Often she’s as cranky as a toddler. I definitely don’t want Jared to witness this.

  “Where are we?” he asks.

  I ignore the question. “You can just drop me off here.” I point to the front circular drive.

  He frowns.

  “Come back in an hour.”

  He ignores my directive and parks in the lot. When he starts to open his door, I snap, “You’re not coming in.”

  He arches a brow, that hint of a grin around his lips telling me he would love a challenge from me.

  I go for pure honesty. “I don’t want you to come in. You can wait here, if you want, but…” I abandon all pride and turn on my begging eyes. “Okay?”

  He sinks back into the seat and nods.

  “I won’t take long,” I promise, then kick myself, because why should I rush? I didn’t ask for an escort.

  “Take your time, baby. I’ll be here.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I swing my purse over my shoulder and head in, not sure what I’ll get today.

  Jared

  I dial Parker’s number. He and his friends headed back to San Diego to line up both fighters and attendees for the first Tucson matches. “The warehouse is ours.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I rented the whole block of them so we won’t have any trouble from neighbors, either. We’ll get the cage installed this week.”

  “Good. We can come down this weekend to take a look.”

  “What else do you need?”

  “Betters. Lots of them. Start getting the word out. Shifters only, any animal. Call all your connections, my friend. The more attendees, the more money to be had. For us and the fighters.”

  “I understand. I’ll get on it.” I know the money will be good, and that part is exciting, but for me, this isn’t just about getting rich. My animal craves violence. “When can we schedule the first fight?”

  “Let’s do it week from Sunday. That gives me time to line up all the fighters. Are you willing to go in the cage?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?” I ask. If it were Trey, I’d ask if the pope shit in the woods or if the bear wore a pointy hat, because we like to mix our stupid sayings to crack each other up.

  “Good. How about your packmates?”

  “I’m sure they’d all be in, but I’ll ask around. How many do you need?”

  “At least four. We can bill it as California vs. Arizona for the first one. My fighters against yours.”

  “Perfect. I’ll round it up. Thanks, Parker.”

  “We’ll be there this Saturday to touch base,” Parker says.

  “Sounds good. We’ll be ready.” I hang up. I have to admit, I feel more than a little dirty organizing cage fights in Angelina’s car. It’s like I’m sullying her just by thinking about violent business. Which is exactly why I’m bad for her. I climb out and head into the building.

  I know Angelina doesn’t want me to go in, and I want to give her space, but I also need to keep an eye on her. Not that I think she’s going to tell. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I crave contact with her. I want to know everything about this girl—including who she visits in this nursing home.

  A grandparent, presumably. But why doesn’t she want me along?

  Oh right. Because I’m not the kind of guy you bring home to mama. I knew that all along, and yet remembering it in this moment hits me like a right hook to the jaw.

  A sweet-looking older receptionist stops me at the front desk, so I turn on the charm. “I’m just here with Angelina Baker. Do you know which way she went?”

  “Oh sure. She’s visiting her grandmother in room 115.” She smiles and points down the hall.

  I smile back and give her a little wave as I head that way. I’m not going to bother Angelina. I’ll just wait outside.

  When I get to the room labeled Pearl Baker, the door is open and an elderly woman—presumably her grandma—is yelling at her. “I’m not taking those pills. They’re trying to kill me here! Those pills make me lose my brain power. Haven’t you noticed how it’s diminished since I moved in?”

  Angelina says something soft and placating, and thrusts a spoonful of what looks like applesauce at her grandmother.

  “I said no!” The old woman bats the spoon to the floor and splatters Angelina with applesauce.

  Even though she’s not in danger, I start forward involuntarily.

  Must protect. My wolf gets so fucking antsy around her.

  “Grandma.” Angelina jumps up, grabbing a napkin. She sees me in the doorway before I can pull back, so I walk in.

  I might as well try to help if I can.

  I dial my charm level up to ten and beam it straight at the old woman. “Who’s this beautiful lady?” I saunter in the room, hands in my pockets so I don’t look threatening.

  The old woman glares at me for a moment, but her face clears as she takes me in. Then—I swear to the fates—she beams at me. “Well, hello there, young man.”

  It doesn’t matter what age—I recognize the flirt.

  “Hi, Mrs. Baker.”

  “Jared.” Angelina says my name in a grumble.

  “Do you know this young man, Angelina?”

  “Yes, Grandma. He’s a… ah… friend of mine.”

  “Are you ready to take your pills?” I pick up the tiny plastic cup filled with various colored pills. “I’ll get another spoon.”

  “Well—” the old woman looks from me to Angelina. “I don’t like to take them.”

  “I have a spoon,” Angelina chirps. She picks up the pill from the floor and cleans it with a napkin.

  I take the spoon and the pill from her and scoop another bite of applesauce. “Here you go, Mrs. Baker.” I hold it up to her mouth and give a wink, like I’m offering something secret and fun.

  “Oh,” she giggles—yes, giggles. It’s adorable. “Call me Pearl.” She takes the bite without another protest and swallows it down. “Sit down with me, young man. How do you know my Angelina? You don’t look like one of those boy dancers.”

  “Grandma!”

  I sit down beside the old woman and scoot her chair closer to me. “No, I’m not a dancer. I’m a bouncer. Do you know what that is?”

  She actually reaches out and squeezes my biceps. “Oh yes. I’ll bet that’s how you met my granddaughter, isn’t it? Were you protecting her from the nasty boys?”

  Angelina stifles a laugh.

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s my job, but I’d do it even if it wasn’t. Your granddaughter is special to me.”

  Angelina goes still and her grandmother’s face blooms into a wrinkled smile. She pats my arm. “That’s right. She is. I’m glad you’ve seen it. You’re the first boy she’s brought around in a long time, and the only one who’s worth his salt.”

  “Grandma,” Angelina admonishes.

  I throw her a wink. “Now, tell me something, Pearl. Do you have any more pills to take?”

  “No, I—”

  “Yes, you do. You have one more, Grandma.” Angelina fixes another spoonful of applesauce and tries to feed it to her grandma. When the old woman turns her head away, I take the spoon.

  “Come on, Pearl.” I infuse a gentle command into my voice.

  She obediently opens her mouth.

  Angelina gives me an eye roll from behind her shoulder.

  “Well, Grandma, we should probably go.”

  “Not yet! You just got here. Don’t we have time for a walk?” The elderly woman sends me a hopeful look.

  I unfold my large frame from the chair. “Sure we do. Only if
I get to push, though.”

  Pearl beams. “Big strong man like you—you’d better be the one pushing!” She shoves the table in front of her wheelchair aside.

  I lift it out of the way and take charge of the chair. “Lead the way, beautiful,” I murmur to Angelina.

  The old woman catches my words and beams up at me. “Such a charming young man,” she says quietly, folding her hands in her lap. “Finally, Angelina’s on the right track.”

  Angelina

  “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me in there.” Jared steals a glance at me as we walk out.

  Jesus—is he actually looking unsure? The cocky tough guy who answers everything with a smirk and confidence? I hate seeing him unsure, except that it’s over me, and that makes the gravel under my feet seem to skid and slide.

  “Are you kidding? She freaking loved you. I’ll bet if you asked her to stand on her head and count to thirty, she would have—just for you. I had no idea Grandma had a thing for muscles.” I squeeze his biceps the way my Grandma had.

  Touching him was a mistake. The moment my fingers contact his skin, the energy between us sizzles. He loops his arm around me, settling his hand on my hip and tapping my ass.

  “You thought she’d hate me.” He says it without rancor, but it’s not a question, either.

  I stop walking. “What? No.” Why in the hell would he think that? “That’s not why I didn’t want you in there. I just—” I break off, struggling to put tangled thoughts into words. “I guess I think of Grandma as kind of personal. No—” I catch his arm when it drops away from my hip. “I mean in an embarrassing way. She’s not always lucid and you heard her—she’s homophobic, and racist, and often crotchety and rude. It would be like showing you my dirty underwear.”

  I jab him with my elbow when I see a wicked smile forming on his lips. “Okay, bad analogy. You probably like girls’ panties.”

  “I sure as hell wouldn’t turn down seeing your panties, baby. Not today. Not ever.”

  I roll my eyes and head to the car. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “And you love me that way.” He opens the passenger door for me, then walks around. “Admit it—you have a thing for the bad boy.”