Alpha Knight Page 11

  “Also, I don’t want to run out of hot water before we’re done.” Her smile lights up my entire world.

  I snap open the condom wrapper and roll on protection. “You want it from behind?”

  She hesitates. Well, duh. How would she know how she wants it? Last night was her first time.

  I take her hips and turn her around, guiding her hands to the wall, then shift the showerhead, so it’s not dumping water in her face. “It’s easier for standing. But if you want to watch my muscles, I’ll gladly hold you up and fuck you senseless against the other wall.”

  She tosses her wet hair over her shoulder and gives me a smoldering look. “This way. But still senseless.”

  I rub the head of my cock in her juices. “Your wish is my command.”

  She pants a little as I enter her. “Still sore?”

  “A little. But it’s good. Keep going.”

  Damn. I have to remember how slowly humans heal. I was way too rough with her last night.

  Not that she didn’t take it beautifully.

  I press in, inch by inch, until I’m seated. I shudder at how incredible it feels, my breath turning ragged. But this is about her. I can’t lose control. I grasp her wet hips and pump, slowly at first. When she starts moaning, I pick up speed. My vision sharpens and domes, like when I’m in wolf form, which hasn’t happened during sex before. It’s almost like my wolf thinks she’s my mate. I’m fucking on fire for this girl.

  When I start moaning—not really, but I want to—I reach around and rub her clit.

  She goes off immediately—faster than I expected, her tight cunt gripping and releasing my cock in quick squeezes.

  I don’t last even a second longer. I clamp my mouth tight around a full-wolf snarl as I slam in hard, my loins slapping loudly against her wet ass, my fingers digging into her flesh. Three thrusts. Four. Five.

  And then I shoot my load, filling the condom as stars dance in front of my eyes from the heat and pleasure.

  When I can speak again—when I can move—I wrap my arms around her from behind, my cock still filling her. “Happy birthday, princess,” I murmur in her ear.

  She looks over her shoulder at me. Her gaze is soft. “Thanks. It’s definitely a memorable one.”

  I kiss her shoulder, then ease out. “Don’t forget to take out the trash in here, yeah?” I step out of the shower to dispose of the condom the same way I did the last one.

  “I won’t.”

  I’m not into goodbyes. I suck at them, actually, so I’m suddenly itchy to get out of here. I’m actually itchy to run. Like, in wolf form.

  Like there’s something emerging in me that needs to get worked out.

  She turns off the water, and I hand her a towel. “I’m going to jet.”

  She nods. She still wants to get rid of me. This is how it’s supposed to go down.

  “If you run into trouble today, call me. I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”

  She cocks her head. “Why?” Her voice is soft and scratchy.

  “Fuck if I know, Legs. Because you’re you. And I’m not pissed anymore.”

  She nods, stepping out of the tub with those long, muscular legs that rock my world so hard. She’s every guy’s wet dream right now, with the towel not quite closed in front, her perfect tits and glimpses of her pussy showing through.

  “Thanks.”

  I stand there, staring. I want to kiss her, but it doesn’t feel right. Like we’re standing on two icebergs that have already separated and are drifting apart.

  “I mean it about calling me. I don’t want to help you, but I definitely will. Okay?”

  “Bye, Bo.”

  My chest hurts for some reason. “Bye. Be careful, Legs. Don’t get caught.”

  I pull on my boxer briefs and t-shirt, then go to her bedroom and put on a pair of jeans, stuffing the rest of my shit into my backpack.

  I open the window before she comes out of the bathroom. The sooner I get out of here, the better, considering my chances of being seen are sky high. Still, I hesitate, looking around. I want to give her something, to leave something, but I have nothing to offer. Not even a card for her goddamn birthday.

  I scratch a quick note on the pad on her desk. Just the same thing I told her in the bathroom. If you need help, I’ll be there.

  Look at me, offering to be her knight in shining armor.

  I can’t help myself. My wolf’s already whining about leaving her in danger. He doesn’t seem to care she’s a human and a pain in my ass.

  He just wants her to be safe.

  Fuck.

  I slip out the window and throw myself to the side to drop all the way to the ground below.

  It’s way past time for me to be gone.

  Chapter 9

  Sloane

  I can’t shake off the bubble of warmth Bo left me with. I’m trawling the Scottsdale streets on my bike, looking for a luxury car to steal, but my mind is still back in my bedroom.

  Still back at the dance, seeing Bo grinning through bloody teeth, like he loved getting his ass kicked.

  Crazy heroic baller.

  God, I’m falling for him hard.

  But the falling stops now. Today. Because I’m not seeing him again, and it’s over.

  And I need to bring laser focus to this operation, or I will be in deep shit. Deeper shit than I already am.

  It takes me several hours of riding my bike around, but eventually I stumble on the perfect car.

  Well, the perfect, most horrible car.

  It’s an orange corvette. Racing style. I’m pretty sure some drug dealer in Mexico will freaking love it.

  The hard part will be keeping a low profile with this baby while I get there.

  Did I say hard? I meant impossible.

  But whatever. I knew the chances of success for today’s job were far lower than usual.

  I do my thing and am gone in sixty seconds.

  Actually, it was more like two minutes, but yeah, I have that sixty second thing in my mind every time I steal a car.

  I get on I-10 and beeline it for Tucson, making the call to my contact, Jorge, on the way.

  “What do you have?” he demands.

  “2017 Corvette Z06, perfect condition. You want it? If not, I have another buyer.”

  “I want it,” he says. “How soon can you bring it?”

  “How much are you paying?”

  He mutters something in Spanish, then says, “I can do ten, maybe fifteen grand, depends on the condition.”

  Dammit. That’s half of what I could get if I could get a clean title. But I knew that would be the case.

  “Fifteen or I’m not coming down.”

  “No, it depends on the condition. I’m not gonna make an offer until I see it. Bring it down here, and we’ll discuss.”

  I blow out my breath. “Fine. I’ll be there by tonight. I can get it to the border, but I don’t know how to get it across.”

  “I’ll worry about that. Come to Naco. I’ll text you an address.”

  “Naco? Is that near Nogales?”

  He makes a scoffing sound. “No, different crossing. Google-map that shit. Text me when you’re there.”

  “Yep,” I say to a dead phone because he already hung up.

  I try to shove the mounting sense of dread I have about this transaction. It will be all right. It will be all right. I can totally do this.

  * * *

  Bo

  I work my ass off at the body shop, trying to finish up Winslow’s open jobs while fielding the third degree from my uncle, but all the time, I have this nagging feeling I need to get back to Cave Hills.

  Make sure everything went straight for Sloane.

  I really fucking hate the idea of her trying to fence a car on her own. It means she’d be dealing with dirtbags and considering the way she looks? She could be in the worst kind of danger there is.

  And I’d fucking kill any thug who hurt her.

  I pull out my phone to check to see if she’s text
ed.

  She hasn’t.

  I wonder where she is right now. What has her in such a bind that she needs to spend her birthday risking her freedom and her life for a heist.

  And then I remember that tracking app I put on her phone. Did she notice? My thumb flies over my screen to pull it up, and then I hit the dot with her name on it.

  There she is.

  Fuck!

  She’s on the highway, headed to Tucson.

  I don’t like it.

  I really don’t fucking like it.

  I wipe my hands on a rag. “Hey, Uncle Greg. I gotta go.”

  “What? Is it about Winslow?”

  “Maybe. Yeah. I’m gonna find out. I’ll try to come in tomorrow, okay?”

  My uncle swears, but he’s shaking his head, like he’s already written my help off. “Just stay out of trouble, Bo.”

  “Yep. I will.”

  That’s probably a lie.

  I get on my bike because Winslow’s car would attract too much attention. Besides, I can go faster on the Triumph—weave between traffic if I need to.

  I don’t know why getting to Sloane feels like such a goddamn emergency, but it does. I kick the bike to life and take off, not even taking the time to text my mom. I’ll let her know when I get there.

  I ride fast, the wind rushing past me satisfying that need I had to let my wolf out to run.

  Yes. Drive fast. Get to Sloan, he whispers.

  And I obey. She didn’t ask for my help, but it looks like she’s getting it, whether she wants it or not.

  * * *

  Sloane

  Naco, Arizona is a tiny border town past Sierra Vista. I get there before sunset and text Jorge.

  He doesn’t answer right away, which makes me nervous as hell. I am so out of my element here, it’s not even funny. I end up parking behind a school and scrunching down in the seat to browse my Instagram.

  It’s full of photos from Homecoming—Cave Hills kids looking glamorous as they play dress up. I’m tagged in a bunch.

  There’s one of Bo and I that makes my heart double-pump. We’re on the dance floor and his arm around my back. He’s smiling down at me with this indulgent sort of amusement.

  Because that’s when we were playing games.

  I was horning him up rubbing my body all over his. Clearly he was enjoying it but had himself under control.

  I’m not sure I’ve ever met a guy like him. He so damn cocky, and yet that confidence is completely deserved. He does have it all—good looks, athletic talent, charm. He’s definitely the alpha-hole they call him at his school—in charge and at large.

  The buzz of a motorcycle nearby makes me sink lower in my seat, even though the windows are tinted. I’m definitely not blending in with this orange hot rod.

  A tap at my window makes me scream, and then my heart somersaults.

  Bo.

  I roll down the window. “What are you doing here?”

  “I followed you,” he says.

  “Why?” I push open the door and climb out, my body stiff from the long drive.

  “I told you—white on rice.”

  “You told me glue. And I told you to stay out of this. Bo, you definitely don’t want to be here for this.”

  He shrugs. He’s back to surly Bo, looking kind of pissed off to be here, but maybe that’s because he rode a motorcycle for four hours to follow me.

  Not my fault.

  “I’m here. What’s the plan?”

  Despite my protest, I’m beyond relieved to have Bo with me. I was scared shitless about what comes next.

  “I’m waiting for a text telling me where to bring it.”

  “Okay. So we wait. You hungry?”

  “Starved,” I admit.

  “Me too.” He glances at the car. “That’s a pretty sweet fucking ride.”

  I can’t help but grin. “It really is. Wanna drive it?”

  He’s a car guy. He grew up in a body shop. He works on them for a living. I can tell he appreciates the hell out of this Corvette. He wants to sit behind the wheel. But he says the right thing: “Nah.”

  I shouldn’t push. But he’s already becoming my accomplice. So he might as well get the pleasure of at least driving the stolen car. “Zero to sixty in 2.95 seconds. Get in. I know you want to drive her.”

  I walk around to the passenger’s side and climb in.

  Bo lets out a low curse and drops down into the driver’s seat, scooting it even farther back than I had it. He fastens his seatbelt and shuts the door.

  “Fuck, yeah, I want to drive her.”

  He takes off, peeling out of the parking lot and racing down the back roads. “Get on Google maps and find me a deserted road where I can tear around.”

  I do, and I tell him how to get there.

  He stops the car and revs the engine. “You gonna clock her?”

  I open the timer function on my phone and nod. “Ready in 3...2...1!”

  He takes off, the tires screaming. The car shoots to sixty, then seventy, then eighty and ninety. “Hang on, Legs!” he shouts and hits the brakes to make a tight turn.

  I scream with exhilaration, and Bo laughs like a maniac as he gets it back up to ninety going the other direction.

  Back and forth he tests the car, making me clutch the door handle with white knuckles while thrills of excitement drench my body.

  After about twenty minutes, my voice is hoarse from screaming, and my neck’s starting to hurt from trying to hold my head on for the tight turns.

  Bo flips one more turn and heads back toward Naco. “Nope, we can’t sell it. I’m keeping this baby.”

  “Right? I don’t think anyone would notice. It’s not like it’s flashy or anything.”

  “No kidding. You couldn’t pick another boring Mercedes sedan or something? You had to go for the race car?”

  I shrug. “Desperate times.”

  He sobers, giving me a long look as we pull up to a stop sign. “Are they, Legs?”

  My chest cinches up, and I refuse to look his way. “Weren’t you going to get some food?”

  “Yep. I’m going to the Burger King drive-thru. I saw it on the way in.”

  I didn’t. I narrow my eyes. “How did you follow me, exactly?”

  “App on your phone. Thanks, by the way—for not shutting off your location services.”

  “Yeah, I needed them to find this little town. I didn’t know my stalker had made my phone a tracking device.”

  “I came to save your ass, so a little less attitude and a whole lot more gratitude is in order, sugar.”

  “I don’t recall asking you to be my savior.” Although the truth is, I’m steeped in gratitude right now. When he knocked on my window, I’d never been so happy to see a friendly face in my life.

  Especially his.

  He pulls into the Burger King parking lot and orders four burgers and three french fries. Then he looks at me. “What are you having?”

  I smack him with the back of my hand. “Are you serious?”

  He grins at me and turns back to the speaker. “And a Sprite. That’s it.” As he pulls forward, he says, “I hope you have money.”

  I snort and pull out my wallet. “What would you do if I didn’t?”

  “Zero to sixty in 2.95 seconds.”

  I laugh.

  We pick up the food, and Bo tears into a burger with one hand while he drives. It’s gone in 2.95 seconds.

  “Holy shit, you probably could eat all four of these yourself,” I marvel, unwrapping another burger to hand to him.

  My phone beeps with a text, and I grab it, my mood shifting to tension. “I have the address.”

  “All right, let’s go.” Bo’s voice rings with a can-do timber. It’s damn sexy on him.

  He drives to the parking lot where he first showed up and gets out. “I’ll follow on my bike.”

  I walk around to climb in the driver’s side. “You don’t have to.”

  He shakes his head. “No fucking way I’m letting you
go to that meet without backup. I’m your goddamn muscle.”

  I fall into him, squeezing both his biceps as I incline my head against his chest. “You’re a prince, Bo.”

  “I thought I was the knight.” He palms the back of my neck. “And you’re the queen. Let’s move.”

  Chapter 10

  Bo

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with danger from the moment we arrive at the meet location.

  Naco is sketchy to begin with, and this abandoned lot is even worse. Darkness has fallen, and there are no streetlights—not that I need them, but the fact that these guys picked a dark abandoned lot doesn’t bode well.

  Of course, they don’t want to get caught by the cops, either.

  I just have a feeling Sloane’s going to get screwed on this deal.

  I leave my motorcycle behind a concrete hut of some kind. I can’t tell what this place used to be. Then I walk around and get in the passenger side of Sloane’s car.

  “You have a gun?”

  She jerks like I shot her. “Fuck, no. You think we need one?”

  I shrug. It’s not like I know how to use one, anyway. But it might be good to wave around and threaten assholes with. But seeing her anxiety ramp up, I wish I hadn’t said it. “Nah, I think we’re fine. I could probably take three guys, maybe four.”

  I’m speaking realistically, but Sloane frowns. “You couldn’t take the three guys at the dance.”

  Right. Shit.

  Because I’m trying to calm her, not freak her out more, I opt for the truth. “Honestly, Legs? I was holding back. My coach would’ve killed me if I got in trouble for fighting at another school’s dance. I mean seriously kicked my ass down the field and back.”

  She stares at me. I hear the thud of her heart, and I wonder if I said too much. If she realizes there’s something different about me.

  “So that’s why you were smiling,” she says incredulously. “You really didn’t care at all about getting hit.”

  I catch her arm, my sensitive hearing picking up the sound of car tires on gravel. “They’re coming.”

  We both climb out of the corvette. I shake out my limbs, like I’m getting ready for a big game.