Alpha Knight Page 6

  Fucking Tyler, who I am going to grind into the goddamn dirt.

  That weak human bastard.

  She’s got lacy ones. Silken ones. A black G-string that gives me a full-on boner.

  And then I find it: her vibrator.

  It’s crazy what it does to me.

  A shudder of excitement runs through my entire body. I’m harder than marble now, and I can’t seem to turn it off.

  There’s nothing particularly fancy about the vibe. It’s your basic, plain phallus with a curved tip to hit the G-spot.

  Does she hit it? Does she know how? Or is she like one of those girls who has trouble orgasming and can’t find her magic buttons?

  I’ll fucking find them for her.

  I’ll show her exactly what this wolf knows about pleasing a human teenager. I gained quite a bit of experience last year screwing an ASU cheerleader’s brains out for three months.

  I drop into her desk chair and turn the vibrator off and on. Every time it rumbles to life, my dick lurches against my jeans

  Every time it turns off, I will it down.

  I would put it on my balls to feel what it’s like, but I’m pretty sure I’d jizz in my pants.

  The moon is not even full anymore, and I’m still one stroke from an orgasm. That’s what this human does to me.

  I breathe down the rumble in my chest. Tell myself not to think about the boyfriend.

  The fucking boyfriend.

  How can she have a boyfriend?

  That asshole back in Grosse Pointe definitely does not deserve a girl this fine. He just doesn’t. I know he doesn’t.

  Girls like this are one in a thousand. Maybe a million. Smart. Athletic. Beautiful. Strong. Fucking devious as hell. What high school student single-handedly starts her own car thieving ring?

  It’s insane.

  I dive back into her backpack, looking for her phone, wondering why I didn’t think of it sooner.

  It’s not there. Does she have it on her? No—impossible. All she was wearing was that thin pair of running shorts. I would’ve seen a phone sticking out of her pocket, if she had one.

  So where?

  I spy it plugged in by her bedside table and lunge for it. Scroll through her contacts for Tyler.

  He’s not fucking there.

  What would she call him?

  While I have the chance, I download a location tracking app onto her phone and send myself the invite. She might see this and turn it off, but you never know. It could be an easy way to stalk her, if she gives me the slip. Then I scroll through all her contacts, but there are no nicknames. I search by 313, the Grosse Pointe area code. Nada.

  There are actually very few contacts at all.

  Which makes me even more suspicious. Did she delete contacts? Or is the identity a made up one? Maybe she’s not actually from Grosse Pointe. Maybe her name isn’t Sloane McCormick at all.

  Who the fuck is this girl?

  * * *

  Sloane

  I plow through dinner with my stomach in knots. I just keep hoping Wolf Ridge Boy isn’t going to make a sound.

  I seriously cannot face my aunt with an explanation of why I have a boy in my room.

  I know, it probably wouldn’t be the end of the world—but it’s absolutely beyond what I can handle right now.

  The real problem will be to keep my ever-observant cousin from noticing. Thank God she spends all her time watching Youtube videos with the headphones glued to her head. If it weren’t for that, she would’ve already heard Bo.

  I eat half my mac ‘n cheese—Rikki’s dinner request, obviously—and pick up my plate. “Is it okay if I bring this to my room?”

  I don’t know why I’m worried about feeding Bo.

  He’s hijacked my personal space in the worst kind of way. And yet I can’t help but think how a big guy like him probably eats three times what I do and how hungry he’s going to be if he hasn’t had dinner.

  It’s stupid, really.

  Aunt Jen considers. “Only if you promise to bring it back down when you’re done. I’m not cool with dishes hanging out in bedrooms and attracting ants.”

  “I promise. I just want to get back to studying. I have a big test.”

  Not a complete lie.

  “Okay, hon. Get to it, then.”

  My aunt is an elementary school teacher and takes education very seriously. She moved into the Cave Hills district specifically so my little cousin could go to the best schools in Arizona. Never mind that by the time Rikki hits middle school next year, she’s already going to get singled out as a have-not. Without the designer clothes and shoes and the parental car-bling, she will not fit in with the Cave Hills kids.

  I’ve managed because I came from money. Before they took everything. Plus, I know how to bluff.

  I carry the plate upstairs and check over my shoulder before I open the door.

  What I find makes me sorry I had any consideration for the asshole sitting at my desk.

  He’s holding my freaking vibrator!

  “Look what I found.” He smirks, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger and waggling it back and forth.

  “You asshole. Put that away,” I grit out between clenched teeth, dropping the plate of mac ‘n cheese onto the bedside table.

  Damn him. Where does he get off?

  “Does Tyler know about this?” He keeps waving it.

  I stalk over and try to grab it, but he’s too quick, moving it to the side, then up high.

  “Does he use it on you, Legs?”

  My pussy clenches, even as flames fly out of my ears. I lunge for the vibe, not caring that I plunked my knee right on his thigh to reach up high and grab it.

  The perv clamps an arm around the backs of my thighs, his forearm lifting my ass like he’s trying to help.

  It has the extremely unfortunate effect of getting me horny as hell. Or maybe that’s the sight of my B.O.B.

  I don’t back down, though. If he wants to get up close and personal, I’ll go all the way in. I shove my tits in his face and pry the vibrator out of his fingers. I’m pretty sure he only let me because I caught him off guard. The second I have it, I slam it down on the top of his head.

  And then I scramble back.

  Oops.

  I didn’t mean to hit him.

  That hard.

  Or maybe at all.

  We both stare at each other in shock. I’m slightly horrified at my own violence—I’ve never hit anyone in my life.

  He looks just as surprised to find I’m capable of it. Or maybe he’s really hurt.

  “Ouch,” he confirms.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you with—”

  “No you shouldn’t have.” In a flash, he’s up off the chair, divesting me of the vibrator. He tackles me to the bed. “You’re in big trouble now, Legs.”

  Somehow, that sounds more sexy than threatening.

  And my body responds with a full on pleasure rush. Heat floods my lady parts. Peaks my nipples.

  Somewhere near my right ear, my vibrator roars to life.

  “Uh—”

  Before I can even assimilate what he’s doing, Bo tucks it between my legs, rubbing the shaft back and forth with a sawing motion.

  “No—” I reach for it, but he quickly withdraws it and holds it out of reach. He’s straddling me—his strong, tree-trunk thick thighs banded around both of mine, pinning me in place. With one hand, he holds my torso down when I try to sit up, still waving the vibrator out of reach.

  “You showed me what you can do with it. Now it’s my turn.”

  “Oh no, no, no.” My stomach flips. I may be saying no, but I’m creaming my panties, everything molten and wet and absolutely thrilled at this.

  His nostrils flare, and his eyes do that silver glint thing. His smile is pure wickedness, and it makes him even more beautiful.

  This guy is godlike in every way.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He lifts one of his legs, and I start to scr
amble out, but he grips my hip and flips me to my belly.

  “Bo!”

  I hear the vibrator drop to the bed, and he pushes a hand into my lower back. Two smacks on my ass—one on each side.

  They hurt, and I try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s not done. He picks up the vibrator and puts it back between my legs.

  Oh God.

  It feels. So. Good.

  Like I-might-orgasm-right-now good.

  It usually takes me forever to get off with the battery operated boyfriend—or B.O.B., as I like to call it. Thirty minutes minimum. But this is like three seconds, and I’m ready to go.

  I’m sure it has nothing to do with the extremely hot baller operating it.

  The sound that comes out of my lips is full-on embarrassing.

  It’s a wanton mewl. A signal of how close I am.

  Dammit!

  I wriggle, humping the bed.

  “You need more of this?” He shifts the angle, tucking it up under me so it hits my clit.

  I make another wanton sound.

  “Fuck.” His voice sounds ragged, and that, above all else, makes me feel better. He’s turned on, too. I’m not the only one losing control here.

  He climbs over me, threading his arms beneath me to reach the vibrator from my front side, grinding his very hard erection into my ass.

  “Like that?” His breath is hot against my ear, and he sounds winded, like I knocked the oxygen right out of him.

  “Yeah,” I admit, squirming over the hard plastic, rubbing my clit with it through my shorts.

  It’s so good. My eyes are already rolling back in my head. Waves of heat are washing through me.

  “You use it inside or just keep it here?”

  “Here,” I croak, just as breathless as he is. “Oh God,” I whimper.

  And then I come. My ass bobs underneath him with the power of the orgasm. I’m dry humping the vibrator and my bed, and I guess him from the back. It’s completely embarrassing and infinitely hot.

  Bo pants at my neck, grinding into me, grinding me into the bed and vibrator. When I finally finish, he somehow manages to twist his hand enough to turn the vibrator off, but instead of removing it, he nuzzles it around, bringing on another aftershock of clenching and releasing.

  He nips my ear. “Now you know the consequences,” he murmurs. “Anything else you want to hit me with?”

  Another aftershock.

  “Get off me!” I complain, and I’m surprised when he instantly complies. In fact, he gets all the way off the bed and backs up to the wall, holding his hands up like he’s under arrest.

  His usual cocky expression is gone, replaced by something almost sheepish. “Sorry,” he says. “No, sorry, not sorry.” His lips twist into a grin. “That was too fucking hot for me to be sorry.”

  I pick up the vibrator and hurl it at him.

  He catches it easily and gives me a roguish grin. “Does that mean you want another round?”

  Chapter 5

  Bo

  I do feel bad if Sloane believes I forced something on her. I mean, I know she got off. I scented her arousal before I even got started.

  And it literally was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I nearly jizzed in my pants.

  But if she feels anything other than satisfied by it, then I’m a dick.

  “Is that mac ‘n cheese?” I ask, to try to bring things back to normalcy.

  She scowls at me. “Yeah. I hope it’s cold by now.”

  “Aw, you brought me food, Legs? That was awful sweet of you.” I walk across the room to pick up the plate, and she brushes past me on her way to the bathroom.

  “Hey.” I catch her elbow—softly. No squeeze, no pressure. She stops, and our gazes tangle. Hers is unsure. Embarrassed. The pad of my thumb brushes lightly over her skin. “You okay?”

  I just need to know I didn’t leave her feeling violated.

  Her lips part, but for once, no quick answer flies out of them.

  She’s still uncertain.

  “Was that rapey? I swear to fate, I would’ve stopped if you fought me.”

  “Just shut up, Bo.”

  I smirk. She’s okay. “I’ll let you use it on me now.”

  “Ew.” She shoves me away but she’s laughing. “You wish.”

  I nod. “I definitely do wish.” I look down at the still-present bulge in my jeans.

  She looks, too, and this time she smirks. “Good luck with those blue balls.”

  I chuckle as she sashays into the bathroom and shuts the door. And now that mac ‘n cheese is calling my name.

  When she emerges a minute later, I set down the empty plate. Yeah, there’s definitely a reason humans call it “wolfing down” food. We definitely wolf. Lots of food.

  “How long are you staying?” Sloane demands.

  “All night, princess. And I’m going to school with you tomorrow. I’m sure your teachers will be fine with your “out-of-town boyfriend” sitting in on classes, right?” I arch a brow.

  She puts her hands on her hips. “If you think you’re sleeping in my bed, you are sorely mistaken.”

  I smirk. “Oh, I’m sleeping on the bed. If you’re afraid to sleep near this”— I sweep my hands down my body in a ridiculous beauty queen manner— “then you can take the floor, by all means.”

  I’m just giving her shit. I will definitely take the floor. I don’t know why I like to see how far I can push her. Her mixture of bravado and bluff is full-on entertainment, I guess. Especially when wrapped in that hot package.

  She chooses to ignore me and instead flounces to her backpack, pulls out a notebook and throws herself on the bed.

  I grab my homework, too, and position myself right beside her on the bed.

  She gives me a long, pointed look.

  I do fake innocence back at her.

  She rolls her eyes and directs her focus to her notebook.

  We stay that way for over an hour—both of us legit having homework, I guess.

  Not that I’m going to school tomorrow. But I can at least do myself the favor of not getting behind.

  After a while, I sense her staring at me.

  I smirk. “May I help you?”

  “Are you seriously staying here all night?”

  I nod. “Yep.”

  She huffs. “Bo, why? You can’t possibly believe Winslow will show up in the middle of the night to see me.”

  “He might text you. Make contact to meet you to get his share of the money.”

  “I don’t have his money—he was selling the car, remember?”

  “Well, to jack another one, then. I’m sticking to you. White on rice.”

  “You said glue.”

  I grin. I fucking love giving her shit. And when she gives it back. I love the alpha in her, and honestly, I think if she really didn’t want me here, this conversation would be totally different. She’d figure out how to get me out of her house. Or she’d be way more pissed off and tense than she is.

  So I’m staying. I’m going to make myself a pain in Sloane’s ass because she deserves it after what she did to my family.

  “Fine.” She gets up and flounces to the bathroom, without shutting the door. I hear her brushing her teeth.

  I saunter in behind her. “Borrow your toothbrush, Legs?” I keep my voice low because I know her cousin’s bedroom’s just on the other side of the door.

  “No!” she whisper shouts. But she pulls open a drawer and produces an Oral B still in its package.

  I wink as I rip it open then reach for the toothpaste. “Thanks.”

  She doesn’t answer. Instead, she ignores me, heading back to the bedroom, where she shuts off the light and climbs under the covers.

  I know because, unlike humans, wolves can see in the dark.

  I walk around to the side of her bed and drop to the floor in the small space between the wall and the bed.

  The wolf in me thinks I should be at the foot of the bed where I could face an attack from any side—window or doo
r—but the human knows better than to sleep in plain sight, in case her aunt or cousin peek in at some point.

  For a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence. I know she’s not asleep by the rough cadence of her breaths. Like she’s alternatively holding it, then releasing.

  A pillow drops on me.

  Smiling, I take it and tuck it under my head.

  She tugs the comforter on her bed, so it hangs halfway off the side, sharing it with me.

  She’s now given me food and comfort.

  I’m gonna take it as a fucking welcome wagon. Stay as long as I want. Play her pretend boyfriend. The real asshole can go fuck himself. There’s a much better version of him right here in Arizona.

  * * *

  Sloane

  My body still buzzes from the orgasm Bo gave me.

  It may have been my vibrator, but that was all Bo. I’ve never achieved those kind of results with the B. O. B.

  And the stupid truth I don’t want Bo to know is that in addition to not having a real boyfriend, I also haven’t had real sex.

  As in, with a partner.

  No penetration, anyway. I let a few guys eat me.

  Didn’t orgasm, but it sure felt good.

  My sexual experience is another bluff. I was five foot nine by the time I was twelve, with a decent rack. The way I figured it, you can either become one of those girls who slouches around, pretending she doesn’t have a full-on woman’s body, or you can own it.

  So I owned it.

  I showed my body off—tastefully, but definitely purposefully. My dad was slightly scandalized, but he didn’t interfere. He made a few comments about wishing my mom was alive to “help me through” puberty.

  I told him I had it figured out just fine and didn’t need any help.

  Which was mostly true.

  When I went to high school, I became an instant superstar. Guys were attracted to my confidence. Girls wanted to be my best friend. I pretended I had loads of sexual experience, and that let me call the shots.

  If I said, eat me, guys got on their knees.

  Sometimes I returned the favor.

  But I didn’t do serious relationships, so I never progressed to the next stage of sexual exploration.

  Lying here in my dark bedroom with a two hundred plus pound football god lying on the floor beside me has me wishing I already had my V-card punched. Because I don’t want this guy to know he’s my first.