Bad Boy Alphas

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Bad Boy Alphas Page 33

by Alexis Davie


  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Harley.” Ivy continued wiping the counter. “Tell me, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

  Harley couldn’t help snorting. “A guy like me?” He felt like he was playing a game of cat and mouse, like Ivy wasn’t just making polite small talk. Something about her was captivating enough to make him take the bait.

  “Yeah,” Ivy said. “Undercut. Black-tee. Sleeve tattoo.”

  “Why? I don’t look scary, do I?” he asked, leaning his arms on the surface of the bar.

  Ivy looked him over and then let out a laugh. “No, you don’t look scary, at least not to me. Trey, on the other hand, looked like he was going to jump out of his skin when you got in his face.”

  “Trey?” It took Harley a second to figure out that Trey must be the server who brought him the water. “Oh,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “You saw that, huh?”

  “That’s what earned you the free beer,” Ivy told him, and he released a small sigh of relief. “Trey’s such an ass. He thinks he can talk to people that way because he’s head of the wait staff now. I was happy to see someone who wasn’t afraid to put him in his place.”

  “Ah.” Harley grinned widely enough to flash his canines. “I’m glad to hear that, then.”

  Ivy smirked at him.

  2

  Ivy stepped inside the elevator, Harley close behind her. As soon as he pressed the number of the floor they were going to and the doors closed in front of them, Ivy threw her arms around Harley’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

  She was delighted at Harley’s startled gasp. He soon kissed her back, cupping the side of her face as he pushed her against the wall of the elevator. Ivy separated her legs enough to let him press his body flush against hers, moaning into his mouth when she felt his erection through his pants.

  “I wish,” she panted, “that this goddamn elevator would—”

  A whirring sound cut her off. The elevator jiggled for a moment, ceased to move for a few seconds, and then began its way up again.

  “—hurry up,” Ivy finished with a chuckle, pushing her hair out of her face.

  Harley laughed. “Are you a witch?”

  Ivy flashed him a smile. “A werewolf, actually.”

  His smirk came as no surprise to her. She had seen him showing off his canines back at the bar, after all.

  “Good,” Harley said, pulling away from her and grabbing her hand as the elevator finally came to a stop, its doors opening on their floor. “That means I won’t have to hold back.”

  Ivy dragged Harley through the hall until they reached his hotel room. He took out his key card and touched it to the sensor, throwing the door open before Harley pulled her into his arms again. His mouth was hot and open against hers, causing a moan to slip out of her as he bit her bottom lip.

  Harley backed her up against the bed, and Ivy turned them around so that she could push him onto the mattress, climbing on top of him.

  “Take your shirt off,” she gasped, licking her lips in anticipation. “You know what; just take everything off.”

  Harley did as he was told, and when he started to take off his pants, Ivy pushed her own jeans off her legs. Before she could remove her underwear, Harley pressed his fingers to her panties, caressing her through the fabric. Ivy moaned and thrust her hips into the touch. She was already so wet, so desperate to have him, he didn’t have to tease her, but she still thrust into his hand. Harley’s other hand slid inside her shirt to fondle her breasts, and Ivy couldn’t wait any longer.

  She pulled her shirt off and then her panties, straddling the man underneath her. Ivy bracketed his head with her hands and gasped as Harley began to rub his erection against her center. In one swift thrust, he slid inside her, and Ivy cried out in pleasure, her fingers curling into the sheets beneath them.

  Harley was hot and hard inside of her, and he filled her completely. His hands moved to her hips, following their rhythm as Ivy began to rock back and forth, her orgasm quickly creeping up on her. It didn’t take long for her to climax, with Harley doing so right afterwards, their pleasures combining together, their bodies shaking as they gasped for air.

  * * *

  Harley lay still on the bed, staring at the ceiling. To say Ivy was an amazing lover was an understatement. At one point, he thought his life might flash before his eyes.

  He turned to the open door of the bathroom, where Ivy was taking a shower.

  “Hey!” she called out, yelling so that he could hear her through the sound of the running water. “You hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving! Want to go out?

  “Isn’t it a little late?” Harley replied, raising his voice to make sure she could hear him. “And I, uh, can’t really feel my legs, anyway!”

  Ivy laughed. “So, room service?”

  Harley frowned to himself. “In a place like this?”

  “Well, it’s not a total dive!” came Ivy’s response. “They had one of those little sundry shops at the front! We might be able to bribe someone to bring us microwave popcorn and cookies, at the very least!”

  Harley called the front desk and promised a thirty-dollar tip to whoever brought up the items from their mini grocery list. Of course, the staff raised the price when they pointed out there was no microwave in the room Harley and Ivy were staying at, so the popcorn would have to be made and then brought. In the end, they paid a total of sixty-five dollars for chips, cookies, popcorn, and two splits of lukewarm champagne.

  Ivy was sitting with her back against the headboard, eating chips. Harley lay beside her, and he was grateful she was nice enough to feed him.

  “Does this feel weird to you?”

  Harley frowned as Ivy put a chip on his nose. “What do you mean?”

  “Not in a bad way,” she said. “Just… sort of intimate, I guess. Like we’re poor newlyweds on our honeymoon.”

  “Oh.” He ate the snack on his face. Her comparison had been strangely specific. “Have you ever been married?”

  Ivy laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, God, no!”

  Harley snickered at her response. “Don’t believe in it, huh?”

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t believe in it,” she replied. “It’s just that it would have to be to the right person.”

  “That’s the entire point, isn’t it?” He looked up at her. “To find the mate you want to be with for the rest of your life.”

  Ivy blushed at his words, and she continued eating chips, remaining silent for a moment before she spoke again. “What about you?” she asked. “Have you ever been married? Engaged?”

  “No, thank God,” Harley sighed. “My ex—” He stopped short, glancing apologetically at Ivy. “Oh. Uh, sorry. This is, like, a date, right? I shouldn’t talk about stuff like that.”

  “Well.” Ivy put another chip on his nose. “It’s not like we’ve been having a conventional date so far,” she said, “so I guess we could break that rule. Besides, I’m sort of curious. What type of girl does a guy like you like?”

  Harley paused for a moment to think. He didn’t believe he had any specific type of girl, so he thought about what he’d liked in Chelsea, and what had captivated him about Ivy. “Wild. Strong. I guess you could say like an alpha, but not necessarily.”

  Ivy nodded her head. “Are you an alpha, then?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t mind a promotion someday.”

  She started to laugh, and it was so contagious that Harley laughed alongside her. Then Ivy leaned in and kissed him briefly.

  “We should drink this champagne before it gets any warmer.”

  When Harley woke up the next morning, a haze of grey light had begun to fill the room. The first thing he noticed was that Ivy wasn’t next to him on the bed. He walked around the small, quiet room until he confirmed what he already knew: Ivy was gone.

  On the nightstand, she had left him a note:

  It was fun. XOXO – Ivy

  At the bottom, almost as if it had been an afterthought, Ivy had scri
bbled her phone number. Harley gathered his things and prepared to go back to his hotel room. He still had a job interview to get to.

  * * *

  Ross stared at him across the table, his eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You found another hellcat?”

  “She’s not a hellcat,” Harley said, rolling his eyes. “She’s the same as us. A shifter.”

  “Man, you already tried dating another werewolf,” Ross replied. “And it didn’t exactly work out, remember?”

  Of course Harley remembered, he had been the one dating her. “This is different. She’s different.”

  “You’re thinking with your dick.” Ross tossed a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

  “It’s not just the sex,” Harley snapped, and Ross sighed in frustration. “I’m serious, Ross! She’s funny, she’s charismatic, she’s down to earth, she’s…” He shrugged his shoulders. “She’s just… incredible.”

  Ross crossed his arms over his chest. “And you got all of this just by banging her.”

  “No!” Harley glared at him. “We ordered room service and stayed up half the night talking.” God, even remembering Ivy sitting down next to him, eating chips and then putting more chips on his face, made him want to smile.

  “Like a couple of high school girls, I bet,” said Ross, and Harley’s glare deepened. “Well, since you’re already so in love, you must have a picture, right? Let me see her.”

  Harley hesitated, but he knew Ross wouldn’t stop pestering him about it until he obliged. He pulled out his phone, swiped through his pictures, and then handed the device to Ross.

  Ross was speechless for a moment, his eyes widening and his expression growing serious. “This is the girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.” Ross handed the phone back. “Not her.”

  Harley felt strangely defensive. “Come on, we were making dumb faces on purpose,” he said. “I mean, yeah, we might have drunk a bit too much—”

  “Her name is Ivy, right?” He stopped at the sound of Ross’ voice: for once, it was somber, all amusement and teasing gone.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Dude, are you serious? That’s Ivy Belyakova!” Ross exclaimed. The last name sounded familiar to Harley, but he couldn’t place it. Before he could ask what Ross’ point was, his friend continued. “She’s one of the White Rabbits!”

  Harley felt like he was falling, like he’d been standing on a rug and it had been pulled from under his feet. The White Rabbits were one of the most dangerous ‘fast cash’ groups in Houston. They could get ridiculous sums of money into anyone’s hands overnight, but always for a certain price. For as long as Harley could remember, and since many generations before, his pack, the Arcos, had had a long-standing feud with the White Rabbits.

  “You’re wrong,” Harley muttered.

  “Wrong?” Ross laughed drily. “She’s their goddamn little princess! The fact you got her to a hotel room and lived to tell the story is pretty amazing. You cheated death, my friend.”

  His friend’s words were hard to ignore. Harley had been staring at Ivy’s note practically since he’d first seen it, thinking about contacting her again as soon as he could. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if Ross was right? What if this was part of a larger scheme to bait him and other members of his pack into a vulnerable position? Sure, he wasn’t the alpha, but killing a handful of prominent betas would certainly send out the message that the feud was alive and well.

  Harley supposed there was only way to find out.

  3

  The first thing Ivy did when her break started was go to the back of the building and check her phone.

  Still no messages.

  I should’ve asked for his number, Ivy thought, pacing back and forth. Harley hadn’t called her, hadn’t messaged her—hell, he hadn’t even sent the ridiculous pictures they had taken together!

  Not being able to contact him was making her anxious.

  She was excited about the possibility of building something new with Harley. The way he’d looked at her that night made her feel like it could happen, like it hadn’t just been her imagination.

  Ivy jumped when her phone vibrated in her hand, and she glanced hopefully at the screen before immediately glaring at the name she saw.

  Larkin.

  Against her better judgment, Ivy answered.

  “What?” she snapped. “What do you want? I’m at work.”

  “Bunny,” said Larkin, his voice upbeat. “Why so hostile?”

  Ivy shuddered uncomfortably. “Don’t call me that. We aren’t dating anymore.”

  “Don’t be stubborn, Bunny,” Larkin said. “You know it makes me happy to think of you as my pet.”

  The little laugh in his voice was enough to make Ivy’s skin crawl with disgust.

  She had first met Larkin when she was fourteen. He had joined the pack as a roaming beta teenager himself, four years her senior. He was quiet and mostly kept to himself. Ivy didn’t have any particular interest in him; she was the daughter of the reigning alpha, and Larkin was just lucky to be alive.

  But then Larkin had laughed at one of her jokes, loudly and openly guffawing. Ivy had been used to polite laughter and the doting of the men in her family—after all, she was their princess. But genuine laughter, that was unique. It might have been the moment she began to fall in love.

  Showing Larkin favor brought him to the attention of important pack members. Before long, the boy had his own work and clients to “keep track of.” He enjoyed it and was good at it; perhaps a little too good. It didn’t matter to Ivy. When she was with Larkin, she felt in on the joke, special, above everyone else in a way she’d never felt before.

  They had spent a night together, many years after their first meeting. Ivy thought it would deepen the bond between them, ground it, cement it.

  She had been wrong.

  It didn’t take long for Ivy to realize that she was the new joke. Larkin carted her around for show and used her as a way to get what he wanted from her father and other members of the pack. Sly and conniving, he managed to secure a successorship for himself while single-handedly demoting Ivy to nothing more than his assistant.

  When Ivy had tried telling this to her father so that he would see the kind of manipulating bastard Larkin was, her father would just smile and pat her head.

  “You’re overreacting,” he would say, and then he would turn to Larkin and ask how he was doing.

  Falling for Larkin had ruined Ivy’s life and poisoned her pack. She would have to start over, and she had. At least, she had thought so.

  “Is there something you want?” Ivy demanded, ready to hang up.

  “Your father says you haven’t been answering his calls,” Larkin answered. “I said I’d talk to you about it.”

  “I’m not your responsibility anymore,” Ivy snarled through gritted teeth.

  Larkin laughed, and the sound made Ivy clench her fist. “As far as the pack is concerned, you are my mate. This ridiculous behavior of yours reflects poorly on me, so I suggest you improve your attitude.”

  “Oh, go to hell!”

  “Oh, no, no, my dear,” he said, as if he were talking to a child. It made Ivy’s blood boil. “You will not be rude to me. I hold your life in my hands. Never forget that.”

  As much as Ivy wanted to deny it, Larkin was right. He had the money and power to drag her back to the family home by her hair if he wanted to act on his threat. She would never truly be out of his reach, no matter how much and how far away Ivy ran.

  “Be a dear,” Larkin continued, “and call your father, will you? Ciao.”

  All the anger Ivy had been suppressing bubbled up to the surface. She screamed and punched the wall with her fist, making a small crack on it. Her knuckles were barely scraped.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and slowly exhale it. Ivy leaned back against the wall and pressed her phone to her chest just as the screen lit up with a new message.

 
It was a picture from a number she didn’t recognize.

  * * *

  “I didn’t think you’d be back in Houston so soon,” Ivy said as she scooted into a booth. Harley had called her, asking to meet her at a café, and while she had been ecstatic to hear from him again, now she was growing slightly worried. Harley had been… acting strange. He wasn’t looking at her. He kept shifting in his seat. He turned his coffee cup around in his hands a few times.

  “What’s your last name?” he asked, still avoiding looking at her.

  Ivy frowned in confusion. “What?”

  Harley sighed and lowered his voice.

  “I heard that you’re a member of the White Rabbits,” he said, and Ivy felt the color drain from her face. “Is that true?”

  “That’s… complicated,” Ivy mumbled.

  “How so? You either are, or you aren’t.”

  Ivy knocked her fist against the table, trying to contain her frustration. “What if I used to be?”

  Harley still didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Look at me,” Ivy said. “If you’re going to talk to me, then look at me.” He finally turned his gaze back to her, his eyes serious and intense on hers. “Why are you bringing all this up now, anyway?”

  Harley ran a hand down his face. “Because I’m from Birch City.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened, and her fingers tightened around her own cup of coffee. Perfect. Just perfect.

  “Ortega or Arco?” she asked. Those were the only two packs in Birch City, and if Harley was a lone wolf, he wouldn’t be interested in the White Rabbits. He had to belong to either.

  “Arco,” he answered.

  “By blood?”

  “No. My mother moved to Birch City after my father died. Then we joined the pack.”

  Ivy leaned back on her seat. Going out with a werewolf from an enemy pack was dangerous, but if Harley had asked to meet her here despite his suspicions, and if he hadn’t walked out on her after finding out who she really was, that meant he was willing to make… whatever was going on between them work.

 

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