Bossy: An Alpha Collection

by Levine, Nina

  “Baby, any time you wanna put that hand on my ass, you go right ahead,” he says, his voice quiet, but deep.

  “I think you’re going to become my drug of choice,” I say as my tummy does somersaults. Being this close to him is one thing, but when he uses that voice on me, I’m done for.

  His arm slides around my waist, and he dips his mouth to mine for a kiss. When he pulls away, he says, “You’re already mine, Callie.”

  He lets me go so he can direct his energy to cooking, and I just stand by helpless to think straight.

  Please, God, never let this change.

  I need Luke to always look at me that way.

  And speak to me like that.

  I’m not naïve to believe we’ll never have problems, but so long as my man feels enough for me to give me those things, we can get past anything.

  “How did you two meet?” Glenda asks as she and I are packing the dishwasher. Luke is getting Sean ready for his day out.

  Breakfast was a chore. She spent the whole meal sucking up Luke’s ass and pandering to Sean. He was fussy during breakfast again, and she tried to argue on his behalf to Luke. I wanted to gag. Luke didn’t back down, and all she achieved was to inspire more tears from Sean.

  “We met at his bar about a year ago. My best friend works full-time with him,” I answer her question begrudgingly. I don’t want to give her any information.

  “Oh…” She doesn’t end that sentence, and it pisses me off. Her tone is bitchy as fuck.

  “Oh, what?” I demand, my body tensing.

  She stops what she’s doing and turns to face me completely. “Oh, so you’re a bit of fun for him that he found at his bar.”

  The bitch.

  Jesus, they’re flying at me thick and fast around here.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” I restrain myself, mindful that this woman is related to Luke.

  “What would you say? Luke’s hardly interested in anyone at the moment.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Do you know his history, honey?”

  I place my hand on my hip. “Yes, I know his history,” I snap, unable to control myself.

  “Do you really think someone who’s been through what he’s been through is ready to find a long-term woman? If it were me, I’d only want some quick fun for a while.”

  My chest tightens with anger. That and the urge to scratch her eyes out. “You know nothing about our relationship, Glenda, and I don’t appreciate your bitchy comments.”

  Her eyes widen. And then they darken. She leans so close that when she speaks, her hot breath causes my nose to wrinkle. “I’m just looking out for the man my sister screwed over. He’s been through a lot in the last two years. Things you can’t even imagine. And he doesn’t need another woman to come into his life and fuck him over again. So, you take a long hard think about your intentions before this goes much further.”

  My hand clenches at my side while I think about slapping her. “Take a step back and never say that to me again. I know what your sister did to him, and I am not like that woman at all. I don’t know if you’ve got some hidden agenda here besides looking out for Luke. If you do, I’d suggest you forget it, because he’s mine now.” My chest is pumping furiously as my anger reaches boiling point.

  We glare at each other until Luke interrupts us. He’s oblivious to what has just transpired. “Sean’s ready, Glenda. Thank you for today.”

  “Always, Luke. Whenever you need me, I’m happy to help.” She reaches her arms out for Sean, who happily moves into her embrace. “Sean and I are going to have so much fun at the museum today.”

  “Yay!” Sean exclaims.

  This woman standing in front of me now is a one-eighty turnaround to the woman who just spewed poison at me, and all I can do is stare in confusion.

  After she and Sean say goodbye to Luke, she turns to face me. “Goodbye, Callie.”

  I watch her leave and can’t help but think her goodbye insinuated that she thinks she’ll never see me again.

  Luke moves behind me and his arms snake around my waist. “I’ve finally got you all to myself.”

  “And what are you going to do with me?” I ask as I run my hands down his arms.

  Turning me in his embrace, he says, “What I’m going to do and what I’d like to do are two very different things.”

  “Are you going to share with me what they are?”

  “I’d like to strip these clothes off you and spend the next six hours fucking you, but what I’m going to do is take you out on a date.”

  Whoosh.

  Lust hits me right in my core.

  “You know I’d be good with either of those options,” I say.

  His lips curl at the ends. “I thought you might be, but we both know I’m all about delayed gratification.”

  I smack his chest lightly. “Pfft, we both know I’m not. You should take that into consideration every now and then.”

  He chuckles. “I will, but not today. Today is all about me. And what I really want is to get to know you better.” He smacks my butt. “We need to get going.”

  “Okay, just let me grab my bag.”

  Five minutes later, we’re in his BMW heading to a destination unknown to me. When I asked him, he refused to tell me.

  As he pulls the car out of his street, he says, “How did you go with that sugar tax article you were writing?”

  I settle back in my seat, loving the view of him driving. Those strong arms of his, and his masculine hands all over the steering wheel. Call me strange, but there’s just something about being driven around by a man. “I decided I am definitely for a sugar tax, so long as the money goes toward educating the public more about the dangers of sugar. I also decided you are right that there’s a deeper wound in society that needs more attention and why not impose a tax to try to help fund that initiative. I don’t believe a tax would necessarily fix the problem, but it could be a weapon in the battle.”

  He glances at me. “It sounds like a well-thought out article. When will it be published?”

  I grin. “It’s in today’s newspaper.”

  “Did you get a copy already?”

  “Yeah, I have it delivered to my home now.”

  “Remind me to stop and buy one today.”

  “You can just read my copy, Luke.”

  “No, I want a copy to keep.”

  My breathing slows. He can’t possibly know what this means to me, and yet he’s managed to say the one thing that absolutely means the most to me today.

  When I don’t say anything further, he places his hand on my leg. “Are you good?”

  I swallow back my tears. “Yes,” I say. It comes out all squeaky, and he takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me.

  “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

  I can’t hold them back any longer. My tears flow down my face as I madly try to pull myself together. I can’t speak, though. Not through the tears and emotions choking me.

  Luke doesn’t say anything. He gives me space to compose myself. But he keeps his hand firmly on my leg.

  Finally, I sort myself out. “Do you know what my mother said when I told her I landed a job at the newspaper?”

  Hand still on my leg. “I imagine she would have said how happy she was for you. Or maybe that she was proud her daughter was following in her footsteps.”

  I shake my head. “No. When I told her that I got the job and that my goal was to move up into a journalist position, she told me she doubted I would make it because I had never taken the time to study writing. She said it took a certain type of person to handle the pressure of writing for a city paper and that she didn’t think I had what it took.”

  His hand grips me harder, but he doesn’t say a word.

  “My parents never kept any of my school work, never oohed and aahed over my results the same way they did over my sister’s. They didn’t ask me how my first day at the job went and they sure as hell won’t be keeping a copy of today�
��s newspaper to remember my first published article. The fact you want to buy a copy to keep means more to me than you will ever understand, Luke.”

  His hand remains on my leg.

  He doesn’t speak for a long moment. When he does, his voice is steady, but I can hear the emotion in it. “For all my mother’s faults, she gave me all of that. She might not have been home most nights, might not have taught me to read or write, might not have toilet-trained me or done anything most parents do, but she was always interested in my schooling, my jobs, and my general wellbeing. She has a framed copy of the house plan for the first house I ever worked on. She planned a party at Elixir for the first night I took over its running.” He pauses for a beat. “I’m sorry your parents have no clue what parenting is actually about, Callie.”

  I place my hand over his on my leg. “You give me hope that I won’t turn out to be my parents.”

  “We don’t have to be,” he says with such strong belief it almost convinces me, but I watched my mother emulate her mother, so a tiny piece of doubt still lives in me.

  We drive in silence after that. From what I can work out, Luke is heading towards the Sunshine Coast. I love the beach, even in winter, so I hope that’s where we’re going.

  “Tell me about Glenda,” I say after a while.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you two close?”

  “She’s helped me with Sean a lot since Jolene went to prison. He adores her.”

  “Does Jolene have any other family that you’re close to?”

  “No, it was just her, Glenda and their mum.” His answers are short, and I wonder if he’d rather not talk about this. I want to know everything, but I don’t want to rush him if he’s not ready.

  I reach out so I can run my fingers through his hair. “If you’d rather not talk about this, I totally understand.”

  “I never want to talk about Jolene, Callie, but I know we need to.” He looks at me. “I know you need to understand my past, so ask me whatever you want.”

  He’s given me free reign, so I decide to throw my thoughts out there. “I guess I’m just trying to grasp what kind of woman could do that to you and to her mother. What was her family like? Did you get on with them?”

  “The one thing Jolene and I had in common was that our mothers were too busy chasing men when we were young. The difference was that my mother could afford nannies; Jolene’s couldn’t. All Jolene had was Glenda, who is two years older than her, but they were never close, so really Jolene had no one to look out for her. She also didn’t have a lot of friends—she rubbed most people the wrong way. As for her mother, I didn’t like her too much. She was always scheming ways to trap a new man. Penny Spiers was trashy and loud, and she treated her daughters like shit. Glenda is single, and I see similar traits in her to Penny, but she has a heart of gold when it comes to Sean and me, so I ignore all that.”

  “How did you meet Jolene? You must have seen something in her if she tended to rub people the wrong way.”

  “She managed a department in Myer that I used to buy clothes from.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and I sense his irritation. “I was attracted to her looks. I’ll admit that. They blinded me enough to ignore her snarky, bitchy ways. And then one day, I went in to buy some clothes, and she was crying. I couldn’t stand seeing women cry back then, so I said the first thing that came to mind. I asked her out on a date. And when she told me later she was crying because of something her mother had done to her, I was fucked because it reminded me of how my mother made me feel.” He glances at me, his eyes stony. “The rest is history.”

  “You couldn’t stand women crying back then? Does that mean you can now?” I’m confused as to what he meant by that.

  “I’ve been subjected to too much crying since then—fake tears—that I struggle to react to it now,” he says. He sounds so distant as if he’s lost in his memories. He sounds so cold, not like the Luke I know.

  There is so much more I want to know, but I think Luke’s maxed out for today, so I refrain. He’s told me enough to get a picture of the woman he married and her family.

  I settle my hand on his leg and leave it there for the rest of the drive. At some point in the trip, he places his hand over mine. It’s little gestures like this that make my heart burst with happiness.

  Two people comforting each other and being there in ways other people in our lives haven’t been.

  An idea for a story suddenly sparks in my mind.

  Shit.

  I can’t recall the last time inspiration struck like this. I reach for my bag and fumble for my phone. I need to write some notes while it’s fresh.

  “What’s up?” Luke asks, glancing at my phone in my hands.

  “I just had an idea for a story. I have to write notes while it’s still in my mind.” I give him an apologetic look. “Sorry. I won’t be long.”

  “No worries.” I’m relieved he doesn’t mind. My previous boyfriend hated it when I did this.

  Ideas keep flowing, so by the time I’ve got it all down, Luke’s just pulling the car into a car park across the road from the beach at Redcliffe. I place my phone back in my bag, exit the car and say, “I’m sorry that took so long.”

  He meets me behind the car and pulls me into his arms. “Callie, I’m not worried. I get it.”

  “How did I get so lucky to score you?” I ask as I run my hands up and down his back. He’s wearing one of his thin shirts today, so I can easily make out his muscles under it. And after being blessed with those muscles all night Friday, touching him is causing lust to pool in my belly.

  He smirks. “I have no idea, but you did good.”

  “Smartass,” I mutter, but I’m smiling. “So what’s the plan for today?”

  “I’ve got you, a blanket, the beach, a basket of food that Paris made us, and about four hours. I figure we can find something to do with all that.”

  He lets me go and grabs the basket and blanket from the boot of the car before leading me down to the beach. Being mid-August, there aren’t a lot of people here today, which is perfect. The August winds have died down over the last couple of days, so it really is a great day for the beach. Mind you, I love the beach, come rain, hail or shine.

  Luke finds us a secluded spot near the trees and spreads the blanket out. He then sits and pulls me into his lap. When he has me where he wants me, his lips sweep across mine. His fingers thread through my hair as he deepens our kiss.

  We make out for a good fifteen minutes and by the time his lips finally give mine up, I’m giddy with happiness. I catch my breath, and say, “I can’t remember the last time I made out like that.”

  “You wanna go again?” he asks, his gaze heated.

  “I always wanna go again, bu—”

  He cuts me off by claiming my mouth again. I kiss him for a minute, before gently pushing against his chest.

  Staring at me in mock confusion, he says, “I thought you wanted to go again.”

  I shake my head with a grin. God, I love his sense of humour. “You didn’t let me finish what I was saying.”

  Amusement flashes in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Continue.”

  “Things might get a little out of control if we keep that up.” I shift in his hold so I’m still sitting in his lap, but straddling him.

  His brows rise as his gaze dips to take in my legs, one on either side of him. When he looks back up at me, he says, “Baby, sitting like that ain’t gonna help your cause. If you want us to do something other than lose control, you might wanna reconsider that position.”

  “Really? You can’t control yourself?”

  “Callie, I’ve been controlling myself for three long weeks. Trust me when I tell you that there’s not much control left in reserve.”

  “Okay, I’m moving,” I say as I shift off his lap. I miss his contact as soon as I sit across from him on the blanket.

  He stretches out, lying on his side with his head propped up by his hand. Reaching out to
touch my arm, he says, “What are you scared of?”

  I frown. “Nothing.”

  “No, I don’t mean right now. I mean, in general, what are you scared of in life?”

  “Where is this coming from, Luke?”

  “I want to know what makes you tick. I know a lot about you, but there’s so much I don’t know yet.”

  “Needles and blood. And crossing bridges, although that’s something I’ve learnt to deal with a lot better as I’ve gotten older.”

  “Do you know why you’re scared of bridges?”

  I shrug. “Nope. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve been scared of them. My parents used to get really upset with me whenever we drove across a bridge, but I was convinced the bridge would break, and I’d die.”

  “So, your parents didn’t try to help you through it?”

  “No.”

  His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything. “And needles and blood? How much blood are we talking here?”

  “I can handle a tiny amount, like what you’d get from a small cut, but anything more than that and I may pass out. And needles, any size needle freaks me the fuck out.”

  “So tattoos are out?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe. Avery keeps trying to get me to go with her, but no way am I ever stepping foot in a tattoo parlour.” I reach for his hand. “So, what scares you?”

  He doesn’t hesitate to share his thoughts with me. I love this about Luke. That he’s confident enough in his manhood to expose his fears because I’ve met many men who would never admit to any. “There are only two things I’m scared of in life—losing Sean and not being there for him however he needs me. I’d do anything to avoid those things.”

  “I would be scared of those things, too, if I had a child.”

  “Do you want kids?”

  “Oh, my God, yes. At least two. And cats. And a house in the city and one by the beach.” My life dreams begin to fall out of my mouth, uncensored.

  “You love the beach that much?”

  I nod. “I just find it so peaceful and refreshing. When I first moved to Queensland, I spent days at the beach. If it wasn’t for uni being in Brisbane, I would have moved to the Coast.”