Possess: An Alpha Anthology

by Anthology

  God, she had to leave.

  “You can’t be here,” I said, swinging open the glass door.

  She turned to face me. “Well, hello to you too.” Her mouth dropped with her eyes as she scanned down my naked torso. Shit. I needed more clothes.

  “I’m serious, Emerson, you can’t be here. Not right now.”

  “Why?”

  Fuck, now her voice was breathless, and was that—yep—that was her tongue tracing her bottom lip. Blood raced from every possible part of my body to my dick, which was hardening by the second.

  I moved to put my desk between us so she wouldn’t notice. “Because I’m not exactly in the mood for company right now.”

  “You said you never lie to me. Don’t start now,” she recited from our car ride.

  “You want truth?”

  “Yes.” She towards me, stopping at the corner of my desk. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.” She shook her head, those bangs falling in into her eyes, and she brushed them away. “Well, I wanted a hell of a lot more from you, but I’ll settle for the truth.”

  “What more do you want?” Why the fuck would you torture yourself like that?

  “I want you to stay, even though I know you won’t.”

  God, it was so simple. So incredibly complicated. My heart slammed to life in my chest. Knox was right. I was still in love with her. I’d never stopped.

  “What do you want, Bash?” she asked, looking up at me through impossibly thick lashes, her brown eyes open, honest, and sexy as hell.

  “You to leave. Now.”

  The girl I’d loved would have shrunk away, hurt. The woman I was falling even harder for simply raised that eyebrow of hers. “No. Not until you tell me the truth.”

  “I walked out on you. I chose to join that team in California because they took a shot on a rookie firefighter, and I did it knowing it would lose me you. That you would never come with me.”

  “Yes.”

  “So instead of asking, I left you sleeping, naked and warm, covered in my scent and my sheets in my bed.”

  “Yes.”

  Images flashed through my mind, how trusting those eyes had been when I’d slid deep inside her for the first time, owning her body the way she’d always owned my heart. The feel of her skin under my fingers, soft, then softer. The feeling of utter completion when I watched her orgasm under me, like she’d been my reward for torturing myself at twenty-one, waiting until she turned eighteen.

  The emptiness of every other piece of ass I had after.

  “I fucked other women.”

  She tilted her head. “I fucked other men.”

  A growl rumbled through my chest. “I’m well aware.”

  “Is there some other secret you’re hiding from me, Bash? Or is that the best you have? Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “How do I know you’re being honest?” She asked playfully, peeking at where my bare hands gripped the desk to keep them off her. She really had no clue how close she was to being fucked right now, to having that little dress slid up her thighs, and her panties tugged down them. If she did, she’d be running.

  One night with her hadn’t been enough. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough.

  Those thoughts were definitely not helping my hard-on.

  “How do I know you’re not married?” she repeated. “Maybe there’s another woman you’ve made promises to, and you just can’t bear to tell me.”

  I reached out carefully, measuring each movement, and cupped the back of her neck, bringing her close enough to smell the wintergreen on her breath. “Are you married?”

  “No,” she shook her head slightly. “You know that.”

  “That’s why I’m not married.”

  “You’re waiting for me to go first?” Her forehead puckered.

  “No. It’s because there’s only one woman I’d ever tie myself to for the rest of my life, and since she’s apparently not married to me, it would be impossible to be married.”

  Her lips parted and she went damn near pliant. Fuck. She was all curves and brains and fire, and my control was slipping by the second. “Baby, I need you to leave.”

  “Why?” she asked again.

  She wanted truth? Fine, I’d give it to her. “Because I have enough pent up anger at this morning’s council meeting that I’d like nothing more than to generally fuck it out, and I can’t touch you. Not after you defended me like that in there. You put yourself on the line for me, for this—” I glanced at the office around us. “And I refuse to use you like that, no matter how badly I want you. You need to leave.”

  God damn it, the woman walked around the corner of my desk, and—fuck me—I turned. She looked down at my very noticeable erection and back to my face, a blush warming those porcelain cheeks. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Emerson? I want to fuck you. Now. I want to slide my hands up your thighs and stroke you until you’re screaming my name. I want to watch you come apart and then do it again while I’m deep inside you—while I’m a part of you.”

  Her eyes hazed over as her breath came in little short pants against my lips. “I understand.”

  This woman was going to be the death of me. “If you stay, I’m taking you. No stopping. No mercy. No talk of me staying.”

  “I have one question.”

  “Ask it,” I snapped. This was ludicrous. I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought of touching her, let alone vocalizing it.

  “Wanting me—is it all about what happened today?”

  What? “No,” I leaned down until our foreheads nearly touched. “It’s not about want—never has been with us. Want, you can ignore, like a stupid craving for candy. You are a need, like oxygen. And while my control might be frayed because of this morning, it doesn’t affect how badly I need to be inside you. That’s something that hasn’t changed since the minute I crawled out of that bed six years ago. It’s a need I’ve never been able to sate, and having you here—when I can still taste that kiss—is killing me. So you can stay and let me breathe you in, or you can leave, and save us both from the way we know this will end.”

  Her fingers skimmed up the skin of my arms, feather-light, until she cupped my cheeks. “Stay.”

  One word from her lips and my fate was sealed.

  Chapter Eight

  Emerson

  “Stay,” I whispered.

  “Baby,” he pled, closing his eyes and clinging to that shred of control I wanted to yank away.

  “I know you’re leaving. I’m not asking you to stay. And the truth is I’d rather have you for what little time I get than not have you at all.” I laid my heart bare and prayed he didn’t throw it back in my face. “Bash?”

  He opened those eyes, hazel turning green, and my heart pounded, soared, demanded to be freed from the cage I’d stuck it in when he left.

  “Touch me.”

  A low rumble came from his chest, and he pounced, taking my mouth with open carnality and intent. His tongue thrust in perfect rhythm, mimicking the way he was no doubt going to fuck me, as he filled his hands with my ass, squeezing gently. We spun, the world blurring around me until my back found the wall and my legs wrapped around his waist so that I cradled that very hard erection he was sporting for me. He moved his hands to my face, tilting my head to kiss me deeper, harder.

  I rocked against him using him to soothe the throbbing I couldn’t get to ease. Hell, it hadn’t eased since he’d gotten to town, like my body remembered exactly what he was capable of and was primed, ready for him whenever he said so.

  Well, now I said so.

  Leveraging me against the wall, he ran his hand up my thigh, bringing my dress with it. Thank you, God—I hadn’t worn pantyhose today. As his mouth slipped to my neck, triggering that place just under my jaw that instantly readied me, he brushed over my lace panties.

  Score one for good underwear choices.

  “Fuck, baby. You’re soaked,” he moaned,
sending another wave of warmth through me.

  “Only for you. Always for you,” I admitted, tugging on his hair to bring his mouth back to mine.

  He kissed me, swallowing my gasp when his thumb grazed over my clit. Then I tore my mouth away to breathe as he rubbed circles over me, need spiraling, coiling deep inside me, where I desperately wanted him. “There,” he whispered finding a rhythm that had me leaning my head back against the wall and arching my hips into his hands. “God, you’re beautiful, Emmy. The way you feel under my fingers, so hot, wet…you’re perfect. You’ve always been perfect.”

  He used both fingers to roll my clit, and my back bowed. “Bash!”

  “Fuck yes, just like that,” he praised. “Come for me, Emerson.”

  There was no way. It never happened this fast. But then, it did. The tension winding in me reached a breaking point. He slid his thumb inside me as his fingers worked my clit, and I flew apart, screaming his name.

  God, I’d almost forgotten what this felt like, to truly need someone so desperately you didn’t care about repercussions—to need Bash.

  He moved us to his desk, and my ass hit the cool, polished wood a second before he stripped my panties off. I pulled his shorts down his legs and off, pausing to admire every cut line of muscle he’d developed. “Bash, you’re incredible,” I whispered, letting my fingers trace the fuck-me lines that led to his length.

  “Later,” he promised, silencing me with a kiss. “Right now, I need you, Emerson. Please. God, please.”

  I lifted my arms, a new wave of desire hitting me with his words, his desperation. He unzipped, then gently tugged my dress over my head, his mouth dropping slightly as he took in the matching lace bra. “Perfection.”

  A quick flick of his fingers and my bra joined my dress, replaced by the warmth of Bash’s hands as he cupped the weights, then gently tugged on my sensitive nipples. Then his lips were there, his teeth grazing over the peaks, sucking and tonguing me until I squirmed on the desk.

  “I need you,” I whispered, rubbing my center over his erection as my fingers caressed the line of his shoulders, loving the deep colors of his flame tattoos.

  He groaned. “Next time,” he promised me, standing. “I’m going to lick every curve you have, worship you until you’re coming on my tongue.”

  My hips bucked, his words sending me back into the realm of frenzy. “Now, Bash. Now.”

  He reached into his desk drawer, and a rip of foil later had himself covered and poised at my entrance. “Emerson?”

  “God, yes, Bash. A million times, yes.”

  He thrust home in one smooth movement, pushing through my folds with a delicious friction that had me keening. “Oh. Fuck. Me. Baby. Damn. Don’t. Move,” he groaned into my neck as my legs hooked around his hips, the angle of the desk absolutely perfect. “I need this to last. I need more. I need—”

  I rocked into him. “Take me, Bash. Fuck me. Love me. Whatever you need. Just do it now.”

  He grasped my ass in one hand, and my head in the other, kissing me as he began moving, rocking inside me gently and slow at first, until the beads of sweat formed from holding back. “I missed this. I missed you,” he said with another kiss, and my heart melted as the rest of me was caught in the fire that was us.

  His hips swung faster, harder, and I met every thrust, moving with him, against him, anything to get those sounds from his lips, to watch him surrender to me as my second orgasm built. He gave me everything, locking those green eyes on mine as he began to pound into me, sending his hand to gently pet my hyper-sensitive clit. “I need you to come again, Emerson. I need to feel you come around me. God, baby, you’re killing me.”

  He pressed gently on my clit and my body clamped down on his as my orgasm ripped through me, deeper, longer than the first one, tearing me from everything I thought I knew until there was only Bash and how much I still loved him. Still needed him. I cried out his name as he thrust once, twice, and then shuddered inside me, leaning his forehead against mine.

  We both sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to calm our racing hearts, our overheated, satiated bodies.

  I hadn’t been a starry-eyed teenager, we really were that damn good together. Even better now.

  “Holy. Shit,” I whispered, leaning my head against his collarbone and kissing the damp skin beneath.

  “My exact thoughts,” he agreed.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  He grinned and swung me into his arms. “Make up for lost time.”

  Then he carried me down the stairs and into the room he’d claimed as his, and did exactly as he promised.

  ****

  The sun was setting when I woke, blinking at the spectacular show of colors through the floor-to-ceiling windows in Bash’s room. I stretched, wincing with a smile at the sore areas of my body that were well-used.

  But I was alone.

  A wave of panic washed over me before I could remind myself that I wasn’t eighteen, and this wasn’t six years ago. Holding the covers over my breasts, I sat up in the massive bed and looked around the austere room. It had to be at least sixty percent bed. Everything was stored in closets that lined one wall, and the desk was bare except for his laptop and a few personal items. This room smelled like us, sex and Bash, but there was nothing of him in it.

  And nothing of you…you’re naked.

  I tiptoed out of the bed and snagged Bash’s shirt from the council meeting this morning off the back of his chair. It came nearly to my knees, so at least I’d be covered until I could get my dress from his office. After I buttoned it up, I headed upstairs, checking around the corners for Ryker or Knox like I was a secret agent, but the clubhouse was empty, quiet.

  Once I made it to Bash’s office, I slipped my panties on under the shirt, but he walked in before I could put on my bra. Air filled my lungs, and I realized that I hadn’t really taken a full breath since I’d woken up alone. Regardless of knowing that he hadn’t really left, the fear had been subconscious.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He set two boxes of takeout down on the desk and came over, wrapping his strong arms around me.

  I laid my cheek against his heartbeat, feeling the steady thrum I’d set the rhythm of my early life to. “Hey,” I said, my voice breaking.

  He cupped my face. “What’s wrong? Oh, God. Don’t tell me you’re having regrets.”

  “No, nothing like that,” I said through a watery smile. “You weren’t there when I woke up, and I knew you hadn’t…left, but I guess I didn’t realize how relieved I was to see you.”

  He kissed me, soft, chaste, and lingering. “I’m so sorry I ever did that to you. I knew I was on the short list, and I was so damn scared to tell you. When they called that morning, you were sleeping, and I knew that if I told you, and you asked me to stay, I’d never have the strength to leave. Especially after having the most perfect night of my life. There’s no excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me—I never did. But if I had it to do over again, shit would have gone down differently.”

  “You wouldn’t have slept with me,” I guessed.

  “Oh, hell yes I would have. I have a ton of regrets in my life, Emerson. Being with you? Never one of them.”

  “Even those six months where you were in college, and I was in high school? And the no sex? And the distance?” To our tiny town, Bash and I were peas and carrots, expected to go together, and no one had batted an eye. But by the time we gave into our feelings, he’d just turned twenty-one, and I still had six months before eighteen. “I knew it wasn’t easy on you, and part of me always thought that was why…”

  His thumbs stroked my cheekbones. “No, never. After Thanksgiving, when we decided to be together, I didn’t look at anyone else. There was no other woman—they had nothing to offer me when I had you. And yeah, waiting to finally get my hands on you? It was torture—don’t get me wrong—but you have been worth every second. Me leaving was never about you.”

  “Then why did you wait to do this until you thoug
ht I’d be gone? Why would you never call? Never send an email, or a letter, or a fucking carrier pigeon?” God, the worrying had crushed my soul, the not-knowing had been worse than waking up alone in his house.

  “For one reason. I knew we’d end up right here. I knew it the moment I saw you again. But it doesn’t change things. I have a life in California. You belong here. You always have.”

  I wanted to tell him that I quit working for Mayor Davis, that I wasn’t going to London, but it didn’t matter, not in those moments. They wouldn’t change the outcome of what we’d done—what we were. It would only make him feel guilty, and while we were short on time, guilt was something we already had in spades.

  “Then I guess we just enjoy what time we have, right?” I asked, a lot stronger than I felt. I’d already agreed not to ask him to stay again, so what was there really left to say about it? He would leave. My life would continue. At least I’d have closure on us. For whatever that was worth.

  “What time we have,” he agreed with another kiss. “It’ll never be enough, you know.”

  “I know,” I agreed, trying to ignore that I’d just walked into loving Bash again. But it was different this time, because I already knew where we were headed. Funny, but I preferred not knowing, the way we’d recklessly given ourselves to the each other.

  Bash’s phone rang and we broke apart so he could answer it.

  “Hey, Knox,” he answered, then listened. “Really? Okay. That’s one.” He glanced over to me and then down to my very exposed legs, his eyes darkening.

  “We just had sex 2 hours ago,” I whispered at him.

  “So?” he mouthed back, gesturing at me as if to say, “duh.”

  I rolled my eyes and went to the whiteboard that covered one of the walls in his office. As he talked to Knox, I started to write. Twelve. We needed Twelve.

  Out of the twenty-one children of the original team, four were too young to even consider, and another two were borderline. This was impossible. It couldn’t be done without everyone agreeing, which was pretty much never going to happen.