Alpha’s Desire: Chapter 2

Angelina

Idon’t know if all the screams are mine. Someone whimpers in the back seat.

That would be Remy. Talya’s in the front seat beside me. Yeah, she’s screaming, too.

I clamp my lips shut to stop the terrible sound and force my brain to work. I hit something. Someone.

Oh God. I just hit a motorcycle.

I lurch out of the car and stumble around to the front. The impact crushed my front grill, crumpling the hood. One of my headlights is out—broken by the impact. The remaining one casts an eerie beam over the horrible scene. A huge motorcycle is on its side in front of the car, but the rider—

Please don’t let him be under the car.

A pitiful whimper comes out of my throat. I drop to my knees to peer under the carriage, but I can’t see anything.

Talya and Remy tumble out of the vehicle, too. They were drunk when we left Eclipse. We’d be home by now, except Talya made me wait to drive home until the car stopped spinning for her.

“Wh-what’s happening?” she croaks.

Remy stares at the bike. “Where’s the driver?”

“I don’t know,” I wail, running around to the back of the car.

There.

A large crumpled form is lying on the alley pavement behind my car. I cover my mouth with my hand. Is he dead?

Please don’t let him be dead.

No, he’s moving, trying to sit up.

I run to him and squat beside him. “I-I don’t think you’re supposed to move.”

He groans and pulls off his helmet. One arm wraps protectively around his ribs.

“Jared!” My heart rockets to my throat, choking me.

I’ve hurt Jared. I hit Jared. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad.

“Jared, don’t move. I’m going to call 911.” I fumble in my back pocket for the phone, cursing myself for not calling the second it happened. Or maybe this still is the second it happened. I can’t tell. Time seems very slow at the moment.

“No.” Jared snatches the phone out of my hand, cracking the case in his powerful grip.

I gape at him.

“No ambulance.” He staggers to his feet and shoves my phone in his pocket. Blood runs down his forehead, pouring into his eyes.

I’m trembling from head to toe, my legs barely holding me up. “Wh-what? No, you need an ambulance.”

He limps toward my car.

“Jared.”

He walks around to the front and picks up—yes picks up—his motorcycle. I don’t mean from the ground, I mean, into the air. He carries it around behind a dumpster and stows it there.

“Jared, are you all right? I think you need medical attention, right away.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Shock reverberates in Remy’s voice. I wonder if mine sounds the same.

He-man—the Hulk—Neanderthal Joe just keeps going, dragging himself to the driver’s side of my car and getting in.

“What? You can’t drive. What are you doing?” I know I sound like the stupid one here, but he’s acting crazy. He can’t get in and drive a car. He probably has broken bones and a concussion. Not to mention the fact that he needs stitches on his forehead.

“Get in.” The order is deep and scratchy and it carries so much command behind it, the three of us scramble to obey, even though he’s in no position to be taking charge of this situation.

I climb in the passenger seat and Remy and Talya jump in back.

Jared puts the car in drive and takes off down the alley. I reach around to the floor of the back seat where I keep my dance bag and fish out a pair of tights. “Uh, here.” I hand it to him, pointing at his bleeding forehead.

Confusion flits across his expression at first, but he accepts the fabric and swipes at his face, mopping the blood up. “Thanks.” He hands it back like he doesn’t need to use it for compression. Like it was just a scratch.

“Are you driving to the hospital?”

He gives a quick shake of his head. “I’m driving you three home. You’re too shook up to drive, and they’re drunk.”

He’s so matter of fact—sounds so completely capable—I almost forget for a moment he’s in no condition to drive.

“Tell me where to go.”

“Um…” My brain won’t work at all. He’s right, I’m way too shaken up. I can’t even function.

“Who do you drop off first?”

“Talya.” The answer comes as a relief. “Campbell and Third.”

He gives a nod and puts on his blinker, driving my bashed up car as if nothing happened.

“I-isn’t this illegal? Leaving the scene of an accident?”

A smile tugs at his lips. “The other party is in the car with you.”

“But don’t we have to notify the cops? How will I file the insurance report? I wasn’t drinking or anything. Were you afraid I’d get in trouble?” I know I’m babbling. I can’t stop myself.

None of this makes any sense.

“Are you hurt?” he asks suddenly, glancing over at me. His forehead is creased, green eyes flash with alarm.

“Um.” I rub the back of my neck, checking for whiplash.

“Any of you?” he barks, looking in the rearview mirror.

“No. I’m okay,” Talya slurs.

“Me too,” Remy says.

“Angelina?” He looks back at me. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Jared, you’re hurt,” I manage to say.

He gives a dismissive shake of his head. “I’ll be fine by morning. Just a few bumps and scrapes. But tell me you’re okay, or I’m going to lose my shit here.”

“I’m fine.”

Jared’s shoulders relax, but the crease remains between his brows.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just shaken up.”

“Of course you are.” He drops a hand on my knee like he’s offering me comfort. This is more like the Jared I know. Neanderthal Jared is fading away.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” I blurt, the tears that have been threatening since the impact falling now.

“Aw, no. It was my fault, baby. I didn’t expect anyone to be coming down that alley at this time of night, but I should’ve looked first.”

“Were you drinking?” I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but I’m still trying to figure out why he wouldn’t let me call for help.

“No, baby. I’m fine. That’s why I’m driving.” He moves his hand to my nape and squeezes, gently kneading my muscles.

We reach Third Avenue and I point out Talya’s house. He pulls over and she climbs out. “Are you guys sure you’re okay?” She leans back in the open door. Her breath reeks of alcohol.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,” I say. “Goodnight.”

“G’night.” She gives a sloppy wave and slams the door shut.

Jared waits until she’s safely in her house before he starts driving again. I direct him to Remy’s house and then to my little casita. Jared stops the car there and gets out.

Is he coming in?

I should definitely ask him to stay, in case he goes into a coma or something during the night. But when he walks around to meet me, he’s no longer limping. On closer inspection, I see the cut on his head isn’t bleeding anymore, either. In fact, it no longer looks fresh. It has the appearance of skin that’s already been stitched closed for a week. It must be a trick of the light.

“Come here.” Jared wraps me in a bear hug.

I didn’t know how badly I needed it until I’m in his strong arms, my face pressed against his massive chest.

A few more tears leak out as he burrows his fingers in my hair and massages my scalp. The shock and aftershock quickly morph into something different. Something dangerous and needy.

I pull away, remembering how awkward our parting had been at Eclipse. My hands flutter. “Um, do you want to come in? I mean, you should stay the night. Just to be sure you’re all right. Not because I want you to spend the night—” Ugh. I’m making a mess of things.

Jared, as usual, takes the lead, taking my elbow and walking toward my door. “I’ll stay on your couch, if you have one. To make sure you’re all right.”

To make sure I’m all right.

This guy is seriously out of touch with his own body.

Except he looks fine. He’s not clutching his ribs anymore. His pupils are the same size. Where did the limp go?

What in the hell just happened?

We stop on the porch and he examines my keyring, correctly guessing which key opens my door. Inside, he looks around my tiny place and sets the ring on the stand in the entry.

“I’ll just clean up.” He peels his bloodied shirt off and heads to my bathroom.

My jaw might have dropped a bit seeing his bare shoulders and back. Tattoos curl around giant, telephone pole size arms. The muscles in his back would put the Hulk to shame.

Yum.

But no.

I’m not going to fool around with Jared anymore because:

A) He’s here to recuperate from the accident, and

B) He’s a player. Except

C) I’m not sure I care.

I trail him to the bathroom, telling myself it’s because I need to make sure he’s all right. Check out his injuries for myself.

It’s not because I want to gawk at his very fine chiseled body.

He splashes water over his face, washing off the blood and when he straightens, I gasp.

The cut is almost completely gone.

My brain tries to make it work, to fit it into a scenario that makes sense, but I can’t. I saw that cut gushing blood, not more than thirty minutes ago.

He catches me looking and slaps his hand over his forehead, hiding the cut, which only makes this weirder. Like Twilight Zone crazy.

I stumble back, my breath caught in my throat. “Who… what… are you?”

Jared

Fuck fuck and double fuck.

I drop my hand and reach for her. I can’t stand the way her face has paled, the way she shrinks from me like I’m some kind of freak.

I grab her by the waist and pick her up, plopping her down on the bathroom counter. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me.”

She swallows. “You didn’t answer my question,” she whispers.

Dammit.

How am I going to get out of this one?

It’s against shifter code to reveal ourselves to humans. I remember when Garrett, my boss and alpha, fell for the hot little lawyer who lived next door. Until he mated her and sealed her fate with ours, Trey and I were worried as fuck.

The oldest code says humans who know have to be put down. Eliminated.

I haven’t heard of that happening in my lifetime, but I’m sure it still happens in some backwards packs.

A more common solution is to hire a memory wipe from a leech. But I would never do that to Angelina. She doesn’t deserve having her brain tampered with by a fucking vampire.

I need to figure out something to say that won’t reveal me or the pack.

“I’m… uh… special,” I say.

Yeah. That’s brilliant, J.

She stares up at me with those big blue eyes.

I lean my hands on the counter, caging her between my arms. “Not dangerous.”

“Not dangerous,” she repeats, her full lips looking so damn kissable, it’s all I can do not to claim that pouty mouth.

“Right.”

“Special how?”

“Uh…” I remember that I picked up my motorcycle in front of her—something I wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t just flipped over a car and landed on my head. “I’m just really strong. And I heal fast. Kinda like a superhero.”

A superhero.

Wow. That’s a great line. I don’t know why I don’t use that more often with the women.

She reaches her fingertips out and tentatively brushes my chest with them. A jolt of pleasure runs through me at the contact. “So you’re… totally fine? Not hurt at all?”

Jesus, fuck, is that all she’s worried about? Thank the fates.

“Totally fine, baby. Now, are you going to let me kiss you?”

Dammit, I didn’t mean to come in and seduce her. It totally wasn’t my plan. But I can’t fucking resist my hot little dancer.

When her full lips part and her eyes drop to mine, I don’t stop myself. I catch the back of her head to hold her captive for my kiss. My lips drag across hers, suck, nip. When her tongue darts between my lips, I lose all control. I palm her scantily covered ass, yanking her core right up against my straining cock as I go to town on her sexy mouth.

She opens to me, yields so willingly. Her legs wrap around my waist and tighten and goddamn her inner thighs are strong! That’s the dance training, of course.

I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. I want to fuck her brains out. To reward her for not freaking out about my unnatural healing abilities. Hell, to reward her for being her.

Because she is something magical and unique.

I drop her on the bed and go for the button on her shorts. The scent of her arousal fills the room. I rub the crotch seam over her slit with one knuckle as I work the button open.

She moans and wriggles, which makes it easy to strip her bottoms off. I leave the go-go boots on, because—yeah—they’re hot.

Hands hooked under her knees, I spread her wide. For a moment I just stare, which makes my girl squirm.

A blush spreads up her neck and across her cheeks. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Looking at the most perfect pussy on the face of the Earth.” And it is. Dewy and plump, her pink heart open, begging to be licked. And yeah, the carpet matches the drapes, not that there was any question if she was a natural redhead.

“Jared.” She tries to wriggle free of my grasp, but I hold her down and lower my head, laying a soft kiss right over her clit. The last moment of tenderness she’s going to get before I bring it with everything I’ve got.

She shivers, her flat belly fluttering.

I part her lips with my tongue and trace along the insides, swirl my tongue around her clit.

She makes cute girl-sex sounds—adorable little ung-ahs that make my already throbbing dick harder than stone.

She’s already had my fingers tonight, so I keep working her with my tongue. I’m going to work until she’s screaming my name and tearing out my hair. She needs this release after the fright she had.

I suck and nip and lick until the pitch of her voice takes on a desperate keen, then I affix my lips to her clit and suck hard. I release it and flick it with my tongue. Then repeat. Because I’m a dirty guy and an ass man, I can’t stop from pushing my thumb between her asscheeks, seeking her little back pucker.

The moment I hit it, she shrieks, squeezing her buns together and shoving her dripping pussy against my mouth. I keep torturing her with my tongue as I make slow circles with my thumb, massaging her anus.

She thrashes beneath me, babbling incoherently.

I apply a little more pressure with my thumb and she goes off, screaming, thrusting against my mouth, her hands pushing my face against her core as her muscles do their squeezy thing that signals her orgasm.

“That’s it, beautiful,” I say when she finishes. “I love the way you come.”

She gives a shaky laugh that rings with disbelief.

“I do.” I reach up and pinch her nipple through her thin t-shirt and bra. “Dancers must do it better.”

She smiles and pushes her hair out of her face. “I’m sure we do.”

I roll her over. “Let me look at this firm little ass of yours.” I give it a slap. Her ass is all toned muscle, like her thighs. So spankable.

I prod her legs apart and rub her pussy with my fingers. I let my thumb quest again for her anus.

She squeezes her butt again.

“I know, baby. You’re an anal virgin, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, but I’m sure she is.

“I’d love to take this ass. I’ll bet it’s so fucking tight. But I’m not going to do it now. We’ll save that for when you’ve been naughty and need another spanking.”

Her bottom clenches again and I chuckle.

But I shouldn’t have mentioned what happened back at the club, because it must remind her of how she felt after. I think I made her feel cheap and used—something I never wanted to do.

She rolls over and sits up, pulling the bedspread over her waist. “I, um… I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Her eyes travel down to the bulge in my jeans and guilt flits across her face.

I adjust my cock. Down, boy. “No, you’re right.”

I can’t be in a relationship with this girl, and she deserves so much more than a one night stand.

I back up. “I’ll just, ah… You know, I should probably go. I’m gonna take your car to my friend Tank’s shop. We’ll get it all fixed for you at my expense, okay? The accident was my fault.”

She stares at me with those guileless blue eyes, so wide and alert, it’s all I can do not to go back to her and kiss her senseless.

“Can you Uber until I get it back to you? I promise I’ll make it happen fast.”

“Um, yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. What’s your phone number?”

I enter her number into my phone and remember I still have her phone in my back pocket. I toss it to her. “Get some sleep. I’ll text you with an update on the car.” After I stow my phone, I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her, settling instead for dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

“Goodnight, angel.”

“‘Night.” Her voice is soft and sweet and that single syllable makes me want to go right back and worship between her legs again, but I force myself to leave.

Dammit. I fucked up again. I hope she doesn’t hate me for this.