Dirty Alphas Page 22

  Wolves chase, though; it’s in their nature. I’m going to have to be very careful here.

  “When I was seventeen—”

  “Seventeen.” A muscle ticks in his jaw.

  “He imprisoned my father for doing genetic research into the ratio of female to male births. He didn’t look like he was planning to release him, ever, so I devised a really stupid plan.” While I talk, I shift back from Lance, scooting to the edge of the couch. “I applied to a University in New York City, and once accepted, I asked the alpha if he’d accept my whole family. Once I’d settled that, I did everything I could to get close to Jacob.

  “I volunteered in the pack-house assisting his wives at first, then I moved on to assisting him with bookkeeping. My father was imprisoned in the basement, and every day, someone would go bring him food. I was doing everything I could, short of fessing up and begging for the alarm code, but I wasn’t having any success. And in the time I was there, Jacob started a very creepy fixation with me. He was home more and more and would pull me into these long, lingering hugs I’d pretty much have to fight out of. It never crossed the line from harassment to violating, though, so I just dealt with it. I wasn’t getting anywhere, and then Jacob’s wife, Nicole, slept with Jacob’s beta—I don’t even remember his name, just that he was an asshole. Jacob killed both of them. I didn’t know until afterward that she did it all to save my father and me—probably to escape too, but she found out my father’s code and left it for me.”

  Lance shakes his head slowly. “I remember hearing about Nicole.”

  I stiffen a little from the anger in his tone, and I can’t stop myself from snapping, “She was a good person, and she didn’t deserve the life she was forced into.”

  Lance’s head lowers, like an animal ready to pounce in for the kill. “What do you mean, forced?”

  “Jacob forced all his wives into marriage, and I was the last to receive that honor. He caught me on the day we were supposed to escape. I tried to flee, and Jacob clawed through my back. I was dying, and my wolf took control. My father found me over Jacob’s corpse—or I thought he was dead. The pack bonds transferred to me. All this time, my father and I were hiding Jacob’s unjustified killing—”

  “Jacob’s killing was the furthest thing from unjustified,” Lance snarls.

  I stop scooting away as the real reason for Lance’s broiling anger comes clear. “You hated him? I always thought you were loyal to him.”

  “Loyal? He sent all three of us to die when we were sixteen, exiled us on pain of death when we survived, then threatened us with war if we didn’t pay him taxes. We’d been plotting his death for years, but none of us wanted to be a kin-killer. I was going to do it to save my brothers the burden, but your father saved me from that. It was a big part of the reason we’d planned a peaceful, economic takeover instead of swift action.”

  “Oh,” I say, sinking back onto the couch.

  “Oh?”

  “I thought you might attack me...but I guess not?”

  “Attack you?” He gives me a look that could only be called predatory, but for some reason a tingling hyperaware sensation pulses low in my belly. “Did you miss the whole part where I said that you’re my true mate? Because I thought I was being very clear. I want to tell you something, and I want to tell you with your legs wrapped around me.”

  Say what?

  The abrupt turn in our conversation sends my mind spinning, and when Lance moves toward me, grabbing my knees, I let him gently tug my legs open. Something in the way he’s over me, moving my body, makes me feel safe—even though I know I shouldn’t feel safe with this man, and I find myself turning pliant at his touch. I move exactly where he wants me, legs spread wide as I lean back into the couch backboard.

  He climbs off the sofa and kneels between my thighs before tugging under my knees and pulling me flush against him. I can’t even use my wolf as an excuse now, because fifteen minutes after I told him we could never kiss again, my body is craving his every touch.

  My breaths come short and fast as that tingling awareness radiates down to where my skintight yoga pants rub against the fly of his jeans.

  Reaching forward, Lance cups my cheeks and stares into my eyes. “Believe me when I tell you, right now, I’m never going to attack you. I’m never going to force you into marriage, a relationship, or anything sexual you don’t want either. You say no, we stop immediately. But I’m not going to ask for your permission when it comes to protecting you and taking care of you. You’re an alpha, and I understand if I try to control you in any way, you’ll tear my throat out, but I’m a highly dominant alpha with protective instincts off the charts. If I think you’re in danger, I’m going to be there whether you want me to be or not. I just want to be very clear on how things are going to be.”

  Words dry in my mouth while I stare at him. I finally choke out, “You don’t even know me.”

  “Not that well, not yet. But you’re my true mate, Scarlet. You might have two other mates, but I only have you, and I’m going to protect the hell out of you.”

  “You don’t even—”

  “—know you’re my mate? Yeah, I do. I felt it when our wolves connected, and I think you did, too.” His strong hands wrap around my hips and fingers squeeze. “If I could, I’d lick everywhere on your body, starting here.” He brushes a thumb over my bottom lip. “Lingering here.” He rubs that same finger over my nipple through my shirt. “And ending here.” He cups my sex with the palm of his hand possessively. “And then I’d tongue fuck your pussy until you screamed my name, at which point I’d bend you over the couch and take you from behind, hard and fast.”

  No one has ever, ever talked to me that way. It feels so very dirty, especially considering the fact that I’ve been a bit of a sexual deviant already today. But dirty or not, heat suffuses my core, and my clit aches to have him deliver on his promise. “You’d do those things…if you could?”

  He pulls his hand away to squeeze my thigh. “We’re about to be interrupted.”

  As if on cue, someone bangs on the door.

  Whoever is there doesn’t even bother to wait for an answer before they use a key and the two remaining Knight brothers barrel into the living room. They come to an abrupt halt upon seeing me sitting on the sofa with a bloody, torn shirt and Lance kneeling between my thighs, caging me in on all sides.

  It could certainly be misconstrued as a compromising position.

  Darrel’s expression darkens with aggression. “What the fuck, Lance? She’s injured, and you’re trying to hump her on the couch?”

  “Not what it looks like,” I say, waving my hands to prevent either of the brothers from beating the hell out of Lance…or attempting to anyway. “I’m not injured, see.”

  I frantically pull my shirt all the way up before I remember that, yes, I am braless. Feeling a hot blush bloom over my cheeks, I hastily pull my tattered shirt down, only to realize the torn fabric never covered my breasts fully.

  Great.

  Aaron nods over to the corpse crumpled on the floor. “You two have some messed up foreplay.” Jumping the back of the couch, he crashes down next to me and gets comfortable. “Not that I’m judging or anything. Whatever gets you hot.”

  “Gross.” I punch him in the arm and receive a smirk in return. “And anyway, we’re just talking, butthead.”

  “Butthead.” Aaron winks. “I knew that was my pet name.”

  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Darrel growls.

  Looking up into Lance’s eyes, which have changed to an earthy green, I say on a sigh, “Would you mind explaining it to them while I change?”

  Slowly, he shifts back, letting me out from where he’s got me pretty much surrounded. Scooting off the couch and ignoring Aaron’s offer to help me undress, I head toward the room and offer Darrel a pat on the arm as I go.

  “You okay?” he asks in a quiet voice.

  “Um…I’ll let Lance tell you.”

  With that,
I finally escape the Knight brothers and head back into Aaron’s room.

  I take my time changing, wanting to give Lance ample time to get through all the details before I have to open the panel for questions. Even though it looks like Aaron changed his sheets, the room still smells like Mack, Aaron, and me and what we did in there. I can’t help a nervous smile at the memory before I turn to the window.

  Damn it. I'm becoming Zeezee—worse than my sister, even. I almost had sex with three guys in one day, I’m pretty sure even my sister usually sticks to one a day, though the turnover rate is very high. The thoughts about becoming like my sister don’t fill me with the absolute terror it usually does, and I’m not completely sure why.

  Instead of dealing with the fallout of the bodies in the other room and the huge revelation I just delivered to the guys, I take the coward's way out and curl up, comforted by the smell of Mack on the pillow. Closing my eyes, I let the world drift away.

  Sometime in the night, a soft touch on my shoulder wakes me, and I open my eyes to look into Darrel’s navy-blue ones.

  “Hey, is it okay if I move you to my bed so I can guard you and sleep? I’d sleep on the floor here, but Aaron is territorial around his space. I’ll be sleeping on the floor in there, I promise,” he says seriously.

  “Um…” I look around groggily before wiping my eyes. “I guess, sure.”

  A little disoriented, I take his warm, rough hand and follow through the house. I can’t help making a full stop when we pass by the kitchen and there’s absolutely no sign of the corpses. I even squint into the shadows to make sure I’m not imagining things.

  “Marie and her vampires came again while you were sleeping. They’re efficient.”

  I’m not sure I want to know what that means, so when he gently tugs on my hand and pulls me toward his room, I trudge on.

  Darrel’s room smells like him, soapy and clean, with a little bit of motor oil and leather in the mix. When I slip into his bed, I find that though his comforter is a thick jean material on the outside, it has a soft, fuzzy underside. I hum my delight and almost fall right back asleep when I realize Darrel is lying down on the floor.

  “Darrel, it’s fine. Just come sleep up here with me.”

  “I’m good down here, Scarlet,” he whispers.

  Crawling to the edge of the bed, I hang partially over the side and stare down at him. He doesn’t even have any blankets or a pillow, even though the bed has two. He cradles the back of his head in his hands, stretching out and looking somewhat comfortable.

  “Okay, if you mean that, then that’s fine. But if you’re just saying that because you don’t want to make me feel uncomfortable, please, come up here. Today has been really weird, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

  To be honest, I’d love someone to cuddle with. It sounds a little pathetic, even in my own head, but werewolves need touch. We need it. It’s a big reason why the “lone wolf” is more of a myth than anything else. Eventually, all wolves need the connection and comfort of the pack. And right now, Darrel feels like pack.

  “Are you sure?” he asks as if I might be lying.

  “One hundred percent,” I tell him.

  Exhaling a long breath out of his nose, he finally says, “Alright, Scarlet. But you need to tell me if you change your mind.”

  “I promise,” I say and feel no little bit of satisfaction when Darrel rolls up off the floor and comes to lay beside me. Immediately, I curl up beside him, strangely feeling as if we do this every night and it’s perfectly normal.

  “You comfortable?” he asks as he shifts his arm up behind my head so I can curl in closer.

  “I am if you are. And please, please tell me if I’m invading your personal space.” When he only chuckles, I scoot up right next to him and bury my face into his side. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” he says before arching down and pressing his forehead to the top of my head. We lie tucked up against each other, warm and comfortable. After a little while, I chance a question. “How are you so much nicer and more laid back than any dominant werewolf I’ve ever met?”

  “I’m not nicer than you,” he says.

  I’m not so sure about that.

  “To be honest, Darrel, after today, I’m really starting to question if I’m some kind of sociopath.”

  He chuckles, and I can feel his body shaking with his laughter.

  “I’m serious. Lance killed four werewolves, then I made out with him ten feet from their corpses. Even when I remembered there were corpses right there, I didn’t care the way I should.”

  “You would be a sociopath if you broke into someone’s house, killed three innocent people, then made out with someone next to their dead bodies. What you did was completely different than that,” he reasons.

  I make a rolling gesture with my pointer finger, signaling for him to continue. “I’m listening.”

  “You survived a near-death experience—twice in as many days. You were injured both times. You didn’t go seek violence, it came to you when you were minding your own business, and you survived it. Most people have their inhibitions go down after they survive a near-death experience. What you did, it was a normal reaction to an extremely messed up situation. If there were dead bodies lying on the floor in the kitchen right now, I really doubt you’d be trying to make out with Lance right next to them.”

  He makes a good point, but I’m still not sure that I’m nice.

  “I had sex with two guys and almost had sex with a third a few hours after.”

  “Two of which were your true mates, and one of whom is someone you’ve probably been in love with for years.”

  Touché.

  “You’re just going to keep making me feel better about everything, aren’t you?”

  He kisses the top of my head and throws an arm over my waist. “I’m going to try.”

  “Aaron thinks I’m a sucker for nice guys.”

  “Good. I’m a sucker for nice women.”

  Cocooned in his warmth, I fall back into a contented sleep.

  Sometime in the night, terror wakes me. My eyes snap open, and I look down to find I’ve crawled all the way on top of Darrel’s massive body in my sleep and I’m sprawled over him.

  “You okay?” Darrel’s hand rubs up and down my back.

  “Yeah, uh, maybe a bad dream. Did you hear anything?”

  “No, but I’ll go look around if you want.”

  “No, not at all.”

  As my fear wanes, I’m not sure of much, but I’m positive I don’t want Darrel to go anywhere. I’m not even sure what woke me—a nightmare or just some random jolt of anxiety. But as I close my eyes, I can’t help feeling I’m missing something essential and disaster looms if I don’t figure it out. But when I wrack my brain for what it could be, nothing comes up.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Darrel

  I wake up with Scarlet tucked against me, head on my chest, hands gripping my sides like I’m a life raft in stormy waters. Her breathing pattern suggests she’s in a deep sleep, but obviously, from her grip, something is bothering her even in slumber. I’m torn between letting her get some more sleep and waking her from her dream.

  I’m also facing another problem.

  It’s morning, and Scarlet is straddling me, smelling like honey, and I’m rock hard, so hard that my cock hurts. And every single time Scarlet takes in a breath, she rubs against me just enough to make sure this problem only increases.

  Incrementally slow, I roll her to lie beside me. I tuck the blanket around her body and shift toward the edge of the bed.

  “For such a big man, you’re very sneaky,” Scarlet whispers, voice husky with sleep.

  I still, looking down at her face and loving the way her blonde hair fans out on my pillow. I can’t help thinking how right she feels here. Maybe the fact she’s my true mate has affected my thinking, but I remember it had taken me months with Lola to feel this comfortable.

  “I’m heading out on a ride or a run. La
nce bought you a phone last night, and Aaron should have it for you.”

  I need something to release this pent-up energy, and there are only three cures: a ride, a run as a wolf, or a good, long fuck. I’m not telling her about the last one. I want to do everything right with this woman, and a big part of that is having all landmark events take place with significance and when we’re ready.

  Her green eyes open sleepily. “A ride on your motorcycle? Can I come?”

  I reach out to touch her soft hand, brushing my fingers over her knuckles. It isn’t that I don’t want her company; it’s that I need some time to process everything, and it would be better to do that alone.

  “Not this time.”

  “Okay,” she says through a yawn. Scarlet closes her eyes, buries into her pillow, and within the space of ten seconds, her breathing evens out.

  After taking a quick, cold shower, I meet Aaron in the kitchen. My younger triplet looks like the better half of him is still asleep. Aaron leans heavily on the counter beside a slowly percolating coffee pot.

  “You might want to steer clear of the forest today—unless you want to fight thirty fae.”

  “The hell?”

  “A bunch of them tried to trap me while I was following the werewolf’s scent. I managed not to kill any, but it was close.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Lance is freaking out, rethinking everything, neck deep in books I’m pretty sure he borrowed from Jack Riley.”

  I stand straight and loom over my brother as my wolf surges to the forefront. “Shouldn’t he be coordinating with Scarlet if she’s truly the alpha?”

  Aaron raises his hands, not in surrender but as a sign for me to back off. “I brought it up. Lance said he was going by the book and wouldn’t say more. As I don’t know what book he’s using or what the hell he’s talking about. You need to get that information from him. You might want to give him an hour, though, as he’s locked himself in his room, and nothing short of breaking down his door will get him to respond.”