DIRTY ALPHAS: The Alpha Bad Boy Collection

by Franca Storm

  “Mark,” Alana growls.

  Mark holds up his hands, feigning innocence. “What? I’m just saying, Al.” He turns his attention back to me. “So, do you fuck a different one every night, or are there some repeats?”

  “Mark! Stop!” Alana exclaims.

  “I bet he has more conquests than even you. What’s your number now, Al? Seventy?”

  “Fifty-three,” I answer, smiling at her, deciding to inject some humor into Mark’s invasive interrogation before I do something I might regret—or that he’ll regret.

  “How do you know that?” Alana asks me.

  “I did my research too when I found out that Cartwright tried to hire you to take me out.”

  Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Seems like you did a little more research than a simple background check.”

  “You’re a contract killer. I needed to know what made you tick so I could determine how great a threat you were,” I explain.

  Mark breathes an agitated sigh and gets to his feet in a huff. “Seems like you’re more of a threat to her than she is to you now,” he says snidely.

  “Did you get his location yet?” I ask, sidestepping his useless comment.

  “Not yet. A couple more days and I should hear back from my guy.”

  “I’ve got people looking too.”

  “Why? You think you’re gonna barge on in to wherever he is and take him out? You’re a businessman, not a soldier.”

  “It depends where he is,” I respond cryptically.

  Alana gives me a questioning look and I avert my eyes quickly.

  Mark approaches me and leans down into my personal space. “If she kills you, she’ll be safe.”

  Before I can summon a response, Alana thrusts out her hand and pushes him back. “Stop!”

  “You’re defending him now, Al? Wow, he must have been better than your usual fucks!”

  “I told you already—”

  “I ate her out. And we kissed. That’s all,” I cut in.

  Mark stops short and glares at me in disbelief at my extremely blunt comment. Yeah, I thought that would shut you up, asshole. Alana slaps her hand to her face and leans back against the couch, breathing out a sigh of defeat. And for the first time since we met, I actually see her blush. Amazing. I force her hand to my cock in my office and she doesn’t blush. I witness her fucking some stranger in an alley and she doesn’t blush. But I mention what the two of us did together in front of her friend and she’s blushing like crazy. Very interesting.

  “Alana, you let him kiss you?” Mark says, making no attempt to hide the pain in his voice.

  “Mark—”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God. I need a drink,” he exclaims, hastily walking into the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of scotch from one of the cupboards. So he clearly knows his way around her place then. He stalks back through the living room towards the patio doors at the back and angrily pushes through and steps into the little backyard.

  “Shit,” Alana breathes.

  I cock an eyebrow, wanting her to explain Mark’s overreaction. I think I already know, but I want to hear her confirm it.

  After a few moments of her cursing into her hands, she finally catches my eye.

  “I don’t…kiss…anyone. It’s too…intimate. You’re the first in many years. Mark’s reading into it. Overreacting. He thinks it means something.”

  “Does it?”

  She looks at me like I just asked her how much she weighs. I keep my gaze steady, insistent, willing her to answer. For a long time she holds my gaze as well and doesn’t back down. And then she scoffs and says, “Of course not. I don’t get involved, Damon. And neither do you. So it works out pretty well, doesn’t it?”

  I know she’s lying, but I know I’m not going to get anything out of her right now. Her defenses are up. The cold, calculated killer is back once again.

  “You heard your friend. Cartwright has sent a clear message through the underground that if you kill me he will forgive your initial defiance.”

  “I know,” she says without any sort of explanation.

  “So why haven’t you?”

  “Because I have my rules when it comes to the job. And you don’t fit my profile.”

  “I’m not innocent, Alana.”

  “You’re also not a rapist, an abuser, a serial killer, or a terrorist. Hence, you’ve made it onto my never-to-kill-list. I decide which jobs I take, not some trumped up street thug.” She moves closer to me, her expression severe as she demands, “Tell me why he wants you dead.”

  I hesitate. Shit, this is getting into dangerous territory. And I know she won’t react well if she knows the truth.

  “Come on, Damon. What is it? Revenge? Or, is he trying to send a message? Did you cross him or something? What does he get out of having you murdered?”

  “Silence.”

  “Silence?”

  “Yep.”

  “You know something that could hurt him and his operations?”

  “I know a lot of things.”

  “Is it something that could bring him down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, why haven’t you used it against him?”

  I sigh and get up from the couch, turning away from her as I answer, “I considered it when I first found out that he’d hired you to take me out. But I decided against it, because it would hurt people that I don’t want to get hurt.”

  “Like who? You’re not close to anyone. Mark’s research was clear on that.”

  You, baby. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She huffs with frustration and stands up. “Fine. I should go talk to Mark and try to calm him down. Help yourself to whatever you like in the kitchen. Everything’s fully stocked.”

  “Thanks,” I respond, watching her cute little ass sway in her sweatpants as she walks away. Damn, even in sweatpants and a tank top, the woman gets me hard.

  Fuck, I need to get a grip.

  7

  ~Alana~

  “You look happy. Good workout?” Mark calls to me.

  I’m coming from the make-shift gym in the garage across from the house, where I’ve been working out for the last couple of hours.

  As I approach the porch steps, I notice that he looks calm and relaxed as he sits there with a beer in hand.

  “Is Damon still alive?” I jest.

  After my refusal to go through with the hit, Mark decided to stay as extra protection. I’ve been trying not to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it. A private security bodyguard protecting a known assassin? Hilarious. But Mark is stubborn. Once he gets an idea in his head, he won’t let it go. I’m not naïve though. I know part of his reason for staying is to do with Damon. He doesn’t trust him. The tension between them has made the last couple of days feel like the goddamn Cold War. I keep waiting for the actual war to break out. Hence the workout—great stress relief.

  “Yeah. He’s fine. I think he headed to bed,” Mark tells me. “Your bed,” he adds.

  I roll my eyes. “It’s purely platonic. We’re both clothed and stay on our own sides of the bed. If you’re so worried about it, he can share the sleeping bag you brought with you.”

  “Haha. Hilarious. I’m looking deeper into him this time, Al. I should hear back soon.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “Everyone has their secrets, Mark. We know that better than anyone.”

  “The issue is what those secrets are, Al. If you weren’t involved with him I’d let it go.”

  I shake my head with disbelief. “Screw this conversation. I’m taking a shower.”

  “Alana!” he calls after me as I storm into the house.

  “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m a fucking assassin! Remember that!” I yell over my shoulder.

  I storm down the corridor towards the bathroom.

  I shake out my hair and barge into the bathroom, looking forward to taking a long, relaxing shower.


  As the door flies open and smacks against the wall, because I put too much power behind it, I freeze on the spot at what I see.

  “Shit!” I exclaim at the sight in front of me.

  Damon is stepping out of the shower in all his naked glory.

  He’s built like a Greek God. Amazing. His biceps are the size of my damn thighs. Yum…those abs again. My gaze rakes over him, lingering on the beast between his legs that’s brazenly standing to attention.

  It takes me a few seconds to realize that I’m licking my lips. Oh crap.

  “Finished eye-fucking me yet?” he asks, smirking at me. “My eyes are up here, Alana,” he jests, snapping his fingers to get my attention.

  “Uh…what? No…I…what’s up?” What’s up? Clearly your incredible cock. Stop it! Right now! Stop!

  “My cock, now that you’re here,” he says with a grin. He steps towards me, stopping just a couple of inches in front of me. “Seeing as though you seem so interested, feel it.”

  “What?” I choke out like a fool.

  “You want to. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

  Before I can stop myself, I’m actually reaching out with my right hand. My fingers wrap around it. I can barely close my fist, he’s so thick. I gulp and pull back quickly. I hear him grunt, not liking the loss of contact.

  “Very…nice,” I find myself saying. Nice? What? Stop talking. Just don’t say anything. You’re embarrassing yourself. How is this happening? Why am I acting like a damn fool here? What is it about this guy that knocks me off kilter every damn time?

  His eyes darken with desire and he closes the small distance between us.

  I gasp as he rubs his cock against me. Christ, he knows exactly where to position himself. I can feel his delicious hardness through my shorts.

  Before I know it, my back is against the wall and his fingers are pulling down my shorts and panties in one tug of strength.

  He stops and looks at me expectantly. It takes a moment for me to realize what he wants. My permission.

  I nod.

  And then he thrusts inside me.

  “Oh fuck!” I cry out, wrapping my legs around him. He’s big, stretching me so much that I can barely breathe. “Wait!” I gasp. “I need…a minute.”

  He grins at me. “I know, baby. Just relax.”

  He remains still for a while, letting me get used to his size.

  And then he takes my thighs in a bruising grip and angles me. It forces him deeper and I moan out at the delicious sensation as he hits that perfect spot.

  “Yes! God, yes! Amazing, Damon!” I scream out in frenzied pleasure.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and start to ride him, taking control.

  And then he suddenly takes hold of my hips, holding me still.

  My gaze snaps to his. What the hell?

  “I told you before, Alana. The first time, I want to fuck you.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “You started to let me a moment ago.”

  “So that you could ease that monster of a cock into me slowly.”

  “Either you let me take control here, or we stop right now,” he threatens.

  I shake my head again. He’s a guy. There’s no way he’s gonna pull out. Impossible.

  “Last chance, baby,” he warns as he thrusts into me hard, making me cry out.

  “Damon, you’re gonna come either way.”

  He growls in frustration and pulls out, cursing as he does. “It’s not always about the end result, Alana. There’s more to sex than you let yourself experience.”

  And with that, he snatches a towel off the back of the door, wraps it around his waist and stalks out of the bathroom.

  “Unbelievable,” I breathe as I pull up my shorts and sink to the floor. He has some major self-control. I’ve never seen a guy do that before.

  Shit.

  That’s not how I wanted that to end.

  But I can’t go after him, because I can’t do what he wants.

  I can’t give up control, not for him, not for anyone.

  Never again.

  I feel tears stinging my eyes. And as much as I want to believe that they’re just tears of frustration, I know they’re not. They’re because of him.

  He’s affecting me, getting into my head. And worse…my heart. My ice-cold heart, protected by layers upon layers of darkness. He’s slowly thawing it, weakening my defenses.

  “No. No. No,” I murmur quietly as I rest my head against the wall.

  ***

  ~Damon~

  Shit, her issues run deeper than I’d even realized.

  But I’m not prepared to admit defeat. I almost had her there. In the beginning she relinquished control without even realizing it.

  But I want her to do it knowingly, willingly. I want her to experience how good it’ll feel to just let go.

  I can’t believe I pulled out like that. Where the hell did that strength come from? Jesus Christ.

  What’s even worse is that I was so overcome by her that I lost my mind. Fucking her without a damn condom? What the hell was I thinking? How inexcusably amateurish. Absolutely unforgivable. That cannot happen again. Ever.

  As soon as her fingers touched my cock, all bets were off.

  I hadn’t expected it to feel as incredible as it had. I’d thought I could handle it. But it was too much. Her soft fingers. Her hesitant, explorative touch. The fire in her eyes. Her desire to have me.

  One hell of a heady concoction.

  As I pull on a pair of sweats and reach for a shirt, I hear a knock at the door.

  It can’t be her. As we just established, she doesn’t bother knocking. She just barges right on in.

  It must be Mark.

  Great.

  “Yeah,” I call out.

  Sure enough, he walks right on in. I study him warily as he shuts the door behind him quietly and leans against it, eyeing me sternly.

  “Get to it,” I snap, not in the mood to stomach his snide comments and underhanded threats.

  “She’s crying in the bathroom.”

  “What?” I exclaim, moving towards the door.

  He holds up his hands and shakes his head.

  “First, we talk.”

  “Not right now. Move.”

  But the asshole really doesn’t know what’s good for him, because he doesn’t move.

  He goes on, “She never cries. I’ve known her for years and I’ve barely seen any emotion from her, let alone tears. She murders people for a living. She can’t afford to be an emotional person. But then you come along and within just a few days, you have her in tears.”

  “You don’t understand.” And I’m not gonna stand here and explain myself to him.

  “Let me guess…you tried to take control with her and you got pissed when she wouldn’t let you.”

  “I’m trying to show her another way.”

  “Why can’t you accept her the way she is?”

  “Because she’s not happy.”

  “Why do you care? She’s just another conquest. It’s the chase, right? She said ‘no’ to you so now you can’t stop until you get a ‘yes’.”

  “No,” I growl.

  “You care about her then?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughs and approaches me. “You barely know her.”

  How very wrong you are, kid.

  “She won’t let you fuck her—not the way you want to. Don’t kid yourself. She’ll come to me.”

  “What?”

  “She’ll come to me tonight. It’s been a few days—a lifetime for her. She needs the rush. Either from the kill or from sex. The way she is, she’s numb without it. She needs it. She knows I’m here for her, so she’ll come to me and we’ll fuck later tonight. It’s always the same. It happens whenever she ends up having to retreat to a safe house or something and she’s cut off from the rest of the world.”

  I scrutinize him and fold my arms across my chest to stop myself from knocking him on his ass. “Does s
he know how you feel about her?”

  “Of course not. She’d never trust me.”

  “But you guys screw around?”

  “Sometimes, yeah. Whenever she wants.”

  I smile with amusement. “You’ve been in the friend zone for too long.”

  “You don’t get it. I get the best of both worlds. I get what you’ll never have. The softer side of her. And the sex. She’s amazing, by the way. You have no idea. It’s a shame you’re such a control freak.”

  I bristle at his words. The comment about not being able to see her softer side, the real, unprotected version of her. “Get. Out,” I seethe.

  “Dude, I’m ex-army. Your threats mean shit to me.”

  Do your research properly, you fool! I lunge at him and force him into an inescapable headlock with barely any effort at all. And then I kick open the door and release him roughly.

  “Who the hell are you?” he gasps, stumbling back into the hallway wall.

  I push past him and hurry towards the bathroom.

  I throw open the door and I’m startled to find Alana slumped against the wall, her face in her hands, sniffling.

  I lock the bathroom door to keep that asshole out and kneel down beside her.

  “Hey,” I say softly.

  “Leave me alone.”

  I ignore her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me. “I’m sorry. I pushed too hard, too quickly, Alana.”

  “I’m messed up. You should stay away from me.”

  “I can’t do that. It’s too late. You’re under my skin, darling.”

  She looks up at me, her puffy eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me,” I say with a grin.

  The sound of the front door slamming startles both of us.

  “Wow, I guess everyone’s having a bad day,” she says with a grin.

  I smile and hold out my hand to her. She takes it and I lead her to the sheepskin rug in the center of the bathroom. “I want to try something with you. Humor me?”

  “It depends what it is,” she says warily.

  I release her hand, slide off my sweatpants and lie down on my back on the rug. “Straddle me backwards.”

  She lets out a nervous laugh. “A 69er?”

  “We can stop at any time. I pulled out earlier. You know I have enough self-control. You’re safe.”