by Lizzy Bequin
Suddenly that reminds me. I haven’t seen or spoken to Conway all day. He was up early, just like he always is. Conway has never been much of a sleeper. He’s too full of crackling Alpha energy—a trait that he’s passed on to his son. I swear, if Conway didn’t have a mate to share his bed and to hold at night, I think he might not sleep at all.
But it’s strange that I haven’t seen him at all today.
“Dad,” I whisper, careful not to wake Brandon, “Have you seen Conway today?”
He looks up from Brandon’s chubby, rosy cheeks and gives me a strange, knowing smile, like he’s in on some secret that I don’t know about.
“When I saw him earlier, he said he was going down to the barn to work on something for you?”
“For me?” I ask, holding the full laundry basket against my cocked hip. “What like a present?”
“Maybe.” My dad shrugs, but there’s still a trace of a knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you run down there and see what he’s up to?”
“Okay, I’ll just put this laundry away and—“
Still lightly rocking Brandon in his arms, Dad gives a little nod toward the back steps that lead into the house.
“Just put it there, Amrita. I’ll take Brandon inside and put him down, then I’ll put the laundry away.”
“Okay?”
Yeah, something is definitely up.
I give Dad a suspicious squint and suddenly get the impression that he looks different somehow. Something’s off. I mean, not in a bad way—it’s just like some little detail of his appearance has changed, though I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Did you get a haircut or something?” I ask as I plop the laundry basket onto the stoop and smooth my skirt.
Dad grins and runs his hand over his head.
“More of it’s falling out every day,” he chuckles, “Maybe that’s what you noticed.”
I laugh and shrug. That’s definitely not it.
But I can tell Dad really wants me to go see what Conway is up too, so I give Brandon a light kiss on his squishy little baby cheek, then I give Dad a kiss on his scruffy one, and I head off down the hillside toward the barn.
The sun warms the skin of my bare arms and shoulders and the top of my chest, exposed by my tank top, but the light breeze keeps me from getting too hot, and it tugs at my knee-length cotton skirt, making it flap like a white flag.
I take my time, enjoying the beautiful view of the rolling green meadows lined with dark trees and savoring the scent of pine and spruce mixed with the salty smell of the bay.
Suddenly I’m filled with gratitude for the new life we’ve made here. After fleeing New York, we easily escaped over the border into Canada. Dad had enough money saved up for us to make a new start here on the coast. Now between the income the farm brings in and Conway’s part-time work as a hunting guide, we have everything we need.
This place is perfect for us. It’s spacious enough that Conway doesn’t feel claustrophobic, but we’re also not completely isolated, and in the past year we’ve even befriended some nice couples in town.
Dad even has a girlfriend, which makes me so happy. He claims they are just taking things slow, but more than once I have caught him sneaking into the house in the early morning after spending the night at her place. It’s funny, because now I feel like the overprotective parent. But of course I couldn’t be happier for him.
As I approach the big white barn, the slightly sweet smell of hay fills my nose. The wide door on the front face is open, and the shadowy interior is oddly inviting.
Dad said that Conway was working on something, but I don’t hear any sound of tools.
As I reach the door, I can hear the noises inside the barn. The neighing of horses in their stalls and the stamp of their hooves on the soft, hay strewn ground.
And somewhere near the back of the barn, I can hear Conway talking to himself.
Suddenly feeling playful, I decide to try and sneak up on him. It’s one of my favorite games to play. I almost always lose due to Conway’s hyper-attuned senses. However, today he seems completely lost in thought as he paces back and forth, his silhouette moving across the square of light from the open door at the other end of the barn.
Creeping ever so slowly on my tip toes, I crouch behind a stack of hay bales and peer over, feeling like a sneaky little cat on the prowl.
Now I can hear Conway’s softly muttering voice, and I realize that he is not talking to himself. I’m surprised to find that he’s talking to me—or he’s pretending to talk to an imaginary me, not realizing that I’m hiding a few yards away.
“Amrita,” he says in a serious tone, “I have something important to tell you…”
He stops, runs his fingers through his messy blond hair, the same color as the hay.
“No, no, no,” he mutters. “That’s sounds too heavy…”
He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders a couple of times.
“Amrita, we’ve been together for over a year now. We’ve been through some hard times together, but these past months have been the happiest of my life. You’re my mate, and you’ve given me a beautiful son, the best gift that I could ever ask for. But more important, you’ve shown me…”
He stops pacing again and kicks his booted foot at a little tuft of hay on the ground.
“Too damn long winded,” he says under his breath. “I need to just get to the dang point…”
Conway pauses, his back to me, and I can’t help admiring how damn sexy he looks standing there half silhouetted by the sunlight through the barn door that is illuminating the lightly whirling motes of straw dust raised by my Alpha’s pacing boots. He’s wearing a loose shirt that drapes over the rolling muscles of his shoulders and back, sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms, and the thick cords of muscle that give him that inescapable grip that I’ve felt some many times before and long to feel again and again around my throat, my wrists, my thighs. Around his trim waist, Conway’s shirt billows, loosely tucked into his tight jeans that conform perfectly to the bulging muscles of his powerful hamstrings and those thick, hard glutes that I love to squeeze when he thrusts into me in bed.
Seriously, I could sit here and stare at this sexy Alpha all day long. Gratitude smolders in my heart that he is mine, and desire clenches at my core.
Conway tilts his head back, his tousled hair glowing like the golden lining of a late afternoon cloud. His nose twitches as he sniffs, testing the air for a scent. He whirls around on the heels of his boots, and I duck behind the stacked hay bales, stifling a playful giggle.
There is a whoosh of air overhead, and a heavy thump that shakes the earth as he lands behind me. I squeal as he loops those big strong arms around my waist from behind and lifts me off my kicking feet.
“Well, well,” he chuckles at my ear as I lean my head back on his shoulder and laugh. “I’ve caught myself a sneaky little Omega.”
I gasp as he sits down on a big heap of loose straw, pulling me down onto his denim lap. His nose snuffles at my hair and neck and shoulder. In the background, the horses stamp and whinny in their stalls.
“Maybe it sounds crazy,” he whispers, “but I think I could just smell you all day and all night, and I’d be a happy man.”
I wiggle my butt against his lap.
“I’m gonna need you to do more than smell me, mister,” I chide him.
That sexy, rumbling growl, like the engine of an idling motorcycle, starts again in his throat. It used to scare me, and it still does a little. But next to the funny little sounds that Brandon makes when he’s sleeping, Conway’s deep, Alpha growl is my favorite sound in the whole world.
Glancing down at Conway’s hand, I notice that he has it balled into a fist. When I stroke his knuckles, his growling gets quiet.
“What do you have in your hand?” I ask in a whisper.
“The future,” he replies.
I turn my head to give him a quizzical look, and he gently bumps his forehead to
mine. The deep masculine aroma of his body envelopes me as he stares into me with those intense, steely eyes.
“I’ve been struggling to figure out how to ask this,” he says, “And I think I’ve realized what the problem is. I’m just not any good at asking for things…”
He uncurls his fingers to show me what he is holding in his palm. It’s a narrow band of gold, inset with a small, humble diamond, and I suddenly realize why I thought my dad looked different earlier.
It’s my mom’s engagement ring. The one that my dad always wore around his neck with her wedding ring.
“Your dad gave it to me,” he whispers. “Now I’m offering it to you.”
So many emotions are bubbling up inside me that I want to laugh and cry all at the same time. For one thing, I’m so happy about the way that Conway and my dad have become friends over the past year. Considering that they started out literally shooting at each other, I’d say they have a much healthier relationship now.
But what makes me even happier than that is my relationship with this amazing man who is holding me here in the warm shadows of our barn. He’s so much more than a lover to me. He’s the father of our child, and he’s my mate. We two are bonded at a level that runs so deep it’s impossible to put into words.
The fact that Conway wants to make it official—that’s just the icing on the cake. And the fact that he is using my mom’s ring; it brings everything full circle at last.
“Conway, are you asking me to marry you?” I ask.
“No, that’s what I’m getting at,” he says simply as he slides the ring onto my finger. “I’m not asking you. I’m claiming you.”
“Don’t I have any say in this?” I tease, studying the ring as he holds my hand in his much bigger, calloused paw.
“Nope. I’ve already made up my mind. You’re my mate. No matter what happens, no matter where you go, I’ll always be there to love and protect you. Sorry, sugar, but you’re stuck with me.”
I throw my arms around his muscular neck and pepper his scruffy face with kisses. When my lips meet his, strong fingers clasp my hair, and he takes my mouth in a dominating kiss that makes me melt in his embrace.
We tumble laughing in the soft, piled hay, and Conway ends up on his back, bits of straw camouflaged in his straw-colored hair. I’m on top, my legs straddling his hips. I curl my fingers around the collar of his shirt, and he flashes a bright grin that ignites a fire down below.
“Okay,” I say softly pausing to suck on the plump pout of his lower lip. “I’ll marry you, but on one condition.”
“Anything,” he rumbles, his voice vibrating through my whole body.
I hike my long cotton skirt up around my hips so he can feel that I’m not wearing any underwear as I slowly grind my hot, moist need against his hardening bulge.
“Give me another baby,” I say, nibbling his scruffy chin.
He grips my butt, helping me rock my pelvis against him even harder.
“Hm, that’s a tall order little lady,” he teases me, “but I think I’ll be able to fill it.”
I squeal and giggle again as he rolls me over so that he’s on top now, his massive body covering me on my cushion of straw. The heat from his hard muscular body warms me through and through. I feel so small and safe underneath my Alpha, underneath my man.
He is my protector. He is my mate. And he is my beast.
As he devours me, our clothes coming off in disarray and my shuddering, helpless body pinned to the soft bed of straw beneath Conway’s hard and powerful frame, I know that he is a beast who will never be fully tamed.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
THE END
I hope you had as much fun reading about Amrita and Conway’s adventures as I had writing them. If you haven't already read the other books in the Project Alpha series, be sure to check them out too! (More info on the following pages.) And I will have more exciting and steamy sci-fi romance stories coming soon! Sign up for my newsletter and stay up to date on my latest releases: http://eepurl.com/gDeLaT
By the way, if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. It's a great way to help me reach even more readers!
Also by Lizzy Bequin
Primal Urges
Primal Urges
I am Project Omega. I am the Alpha’s prey.
At the Facility, they made me an Omega. My body changed, and so did my needs.
Now I have escaped, but how long I can last in this unforgiving wilderness? Lost and alone, I fear I will fall prey to the predators in this dark forest.
But I never expected the predator to be a man.
The rough and rugged alpha warns me to stay away. He tells me he is a beast with carnal instincts that he can’t restrain. He warns that if I stay, he will have no choice but to pin me down and use me in the most animalistic ways imaginable, shattering me with climaxes like I’ve never dared to experience before.
He promises he will break me.
But something in this man’s scent tells me I was created to be his mate. It makes me want to put all of his threats to the test. I’m going to find out what happens when an Alpha gives in to his primal urges.
Get it on Amazon!
Also by Lizzy Bequin
Primal Impulse
Primal Impulse
I thought I was being rescued. I was wrong.
I thought this dangerously handsome, rugged, and sexy Alpha was my savior. But when he tosses me over his muscular shoulder and carries me off into the night, I realize just how wrong a girl can be.
He has a dark past.
He’s hunted by a mysterious organization.
And now they are hunting me too. They say they’re going to transform me into the perfect mate. They say they’re going to make me Project Omega. I thought I was being rescued.
I was wrong.
Get it on Amazon!
About Lizzy B.
Hailing from the Deep South, Lizzy Bequin enjoys writing dark and steamy romance stories that explore the primal side of love and lust. When she’s not writing or reading, Lizzy is serving the whims of the two evil feline overlords who rule her home.
For more info and news about upcoming releases, visit me online!
Website: lizzybequin.com
Facebook: @lizzybequinauthor
Newsletter: eepurl.com/gDeLaT