Alpha’s Obsession

by Renee Rose

  “Exactly.” Sam shakes his head. “I don’t think Layne appreciated you guys getting drunk and singing outside our window at three a.m. last night.”

  “That was a good ole Irish serenade,” Declan protests.

  “Yeah well, you’re lucky my tiger wasn’t hungry,” I say.

  “O’course I’m lucky. “‘Twasn’t my idea, ‘twas Laurie’s.”

  The owl shifter holds up his hands when I mock frown at him.

  “It’s true, ya never could resist a good love story. Neither can Nash, though he doesn’t show it.” Declan sticks his head in the hall and shouts, “But inside he’s just a big ole softie, isn’t he?”

  Nash’s bedroom door shakes with a roar.

  “He’ll come around.” Declan winks at us.

  “Or he’ll get annoyed and eat you,” Sam says.

  “Either way.” Parker shrugs.

  “We’re here for you, if you need us,” Laurie says. His stutter has improved since the fight.

  “We’ll miss ya, kitty,” Declan comes to me with arms outstretched. “May I hug her?” he asks Sam.

  “No,” Sam and I reply in unison, but I embrace him anyway, and then Laurie, while Sam and Parker pound each other on the back.

  They all troop out to wave us off.

  “So,” I ask. “Where we going now?”

  “I could take you home,” Sam says. “Smyth and his men are dead.”

  “Santiago’s still out there,” I remind him.

  “Not for long,” Sam vows. “In the meantime... I know a place we can stay.”

  “I trust you.” I lean back in my seat. “Let’s go.”

  Sam lifts his phone to his ear.

  “Sam, is that you?” A young woman’s voice comes over the Bluetooth.

  “Yep. it’s me.” He grins and turns and mouths, Kylie. I nod.

  “Oh thank God. Although you better have a good reason for calling me on an unsecure line.”

  “All my equipment got torched in the raid.”

  “Yeah, that building was dust. Whoever that lion buddy of yours is, he really knows firepower. Jackson and Garrett arrived just in time to watch the fire department try to get the blaze under control. Sam.” Her voice drops to an awed whisper. “I think he used napalm.”

  “Nash is crazy,” Sam confirms. “But that’s not why I’m calling. Kylie—I’m coming home.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, for good.” He sighs. I squeeze his hand, and reaches out and smoothes a strand of hair back from my face. “And I’m bringing someone I want you to meet…”

  Epilogue

  Layne

  The cursor on the computer blinks at me. I’m in another stare-off. When the data finishes tabulating, I sit back with a smile.

  A pair of hands cover my eyes.

  “Guess who?”

  I grin. "I can smell you."

  “Oh yeah?” Sam’s lips find my ears. “You want to taste me?”

  I turn my head, keeping my eyes closed as I meet his kiss.

  “Why, Dr. Zhao,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’re very good at this.”

  “I’m a quick study,” I purr.

  “Why quick? Why not slow?” Another kiss, and then we rest our foreheads together, just savoring the moment. Being together. Breathing each other in.

  “You gonna work all night?”

  "It's night?" I raise my head and blink at him. The late afternoon sun still illuminates my tiny lab.

  “If I can tempt you to stop early—”

  “You always tempt me.”

  “In that case.” He leans down to kiss me again, when a small coo makes us break apart.

  “Baby in the lab,” Sam announces, stepping back with a rueful look on his face.

  “Hey, Jay,” I coo, picking up crawling infant. “Who’s my favorite kitten?”

  “Pup,” Sam corrects.

  “We won’t know until she’s a teen,” I tell him haughtily, and carry the precious girl out of my lab, whispering “cat shifter, cat shifter,” to her.

  My lab is a former pool house. Kylie and Jackson went a little nuts buying me state of the art equipment, so it actually is the perfect place to continue my research. The gorgeous pool just outside the door, and frequent baby interruptions are fantastic added perks.

  “Jaylin, there you are,” Kylie exclaims, hustling to us. The baby babbles, holding out her arms for her momma. “I just looked away for a moment.”

  “She’s getting really fast.” I laugh.

  “I hope she didn’t interrupt your research.”

  “No, I was just about done.” I grin at Sam as he sidles up beside me and takes my hand.

  “You guys hungry? Jackson's got the grill going.”

  “Isn't that usually your job?” I ask Sam as we amble around the pool.

  “I let him take a crack at it so I could lure you out,” Sam kisses my cheek.

  “Really? You were going to lure me out?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Nice apron, Jackson,” I call as we reach the patio where the huge wolf shifter is lording over a grill, wearing a “Kiss the cook” apron. He grunts, and flips a steak.

  “Guys in the kitchen are hot,” Kylie declares.

  We sit around the table while Jackson grills enough meat to feed an army—or four shifters plus a baby. I had to get used to my tiger-sized appetite. No more skipping lunch or eating only a granola bar.

  Thank God I had Sam to help me fit into shifter society. Turns out Smyth got the potion right. I am an alpha, as Sam guessed—almost as powerful as Jackson. It makes for a tricky treaty, living on Jackson’s land. Luckily cats think of dominance differently than wolves. As long as Sam is safe, my cat is happy.

  Good thing, too. My tiger could probably take Jackson in a one on one fight, but Kylie wouldn’t fight fair.

  “I have an announcement to make,” I say when the foods on the table. “The research is conclusive. I don’t have Barrington’s.”

  Happy exclamations greet me. I accept Kylie’s hug and go back into Sam’s arms.

  “A toast.” Jackson raises his beer.

  “To Layne,” Kylie proposes.

  “To life,” I correct. “And all the people who make it worth living.”

  ~.~

  Sam

  After four pounds of steak, I step inside the house to get more beer—and some quiet. While we were eating, my phone buzzed in my pocket with a missed call. An unknown number but I know who it is.

  You got my message? I text.

  Yeah. the response comes immediately. My thanks to your source. I glance out to the table where my source, Kylie, is encouraging her daughter to take a few trembling steps toward Layne. It’s taken a few months, but Kylie was able to dig up a few hits on a certain lioness. Denali Decker didn’t leave much of a trail, but nothing stops Kylie.

  Let me know when you’re ready to follow up.

  Not a second goes by before my phone shakes with another text from Nash.

  Ready. Let’s find my mate.

  Coming May 8th - Alpha’s War

  Nash

  I’ve survived suicide missions in war zones. Shifter prison labs. The worst torture imaginable.

  I took it all. Nothing knocked me off my feet until they put a beautiful lioness in my cage. We shared one night before our captors ripped us apart.

  But now I’m free, and my lion is going insane. He’ll destroy me from the inside out if I don’t find my mate.

  I don’t know who she is. I don’t know where she lives. But I’ll die if I don’t find her, and make her mine.

  I’m coming for you, Denali.

  Denali

  They took me from my home, they killed my pride, they put me in a cage and forced me to breed. They took everything from me and still I survived.

  But one night with a lion shifter destroyed me. Nash took the one thing my captors could touch—he took my heart.

  Somehow I escaped, and live in fear that Nash and the rest will co
me for me. It’s killing my lioness, but I’ve got to hide. I’ve got to protect the only thing I have left to lose: our cub.

  Alpha’s Passion

  Jared

  Three months I’ve been hard for this human.

  I know, woe is me, right? Try telling that to my cock when she’s up on that box in her miniscule shorts doing her little go-go dance for all the patrons of my Alpha’s nightclub.

  Angelina. The red-headed dynamo who single-handedly transformed Eclipse into the happening place in Tucson on Saturday nights.

  And right now some asshole just put his hands on her thighs.

  I shove my way through the nightclub, ready to pound skulls. Lucky for me—unlucky for the handsy asshole—that’s my job.

  Heat is coming off the crowd in waves. The music is thumping. The clubbers part to make room for my hulking frame. I carry two hundred and twenty pounds of solid, tattooed muscle. Not many try to mess with me or any of the other bouncers at Eclipse.

  We don’t even have to pull out our shifter strength to show force.

  Garrett doesn’t appreciate his bouncers getting overly aggressive, but dialing it back is an impossibility for me when I see Angelina’s annoyance at Handsy’s unrelenting come-on.

  I shove my body between him and Angelina’s go-go box and fold my arms over my chest, mostly to keep me from closing my fist around his fragile human neck.

  “Whoa, whoa!” He throws his palms in the air with an affronted air, like I’m overreacting.

  “Hands off the dancers. You do it again, you’re eighty-sixed.”

  “O-kay. Jeez. I was just saying hello.”

  “You want argue with me?” I challenge. Of course I’m pretty much dying for him to say yes, because wiping that attitude off his face would almost be as satisfying as receiving the grateful look Angelina’s sending my way.

  Come on into the storeroom after closing and I’ll let you thank me properly.

  I wish. Not that she hasn’t given me the signals. Not that I haven’t fucked at least a hundred human girls in that storeroom since Eclipse opened.

  But I’m a little too hot for her.

  And humans are off-limits. At least they were before Garrett decided to mate one.

  Besides, she’s totally out of my league.

  Fresh-faced and passionate, she’s a dance major from the University. She couldn’t be more clean-cut and innocent.

  Meanwhile, I’m motorcycles and tattoos.

  And a shifter.

  Definitely not the right guy for her. And if I fucked that hot little body? I’d ruin her for everyone else.

  Not to sound conceited about my abilities, but I pay attention to what a girl likes. I’m over-the-top rough and dominant, but I never force, never harm. I just coax their surrender and show them the way of the wolf.

  Trey calls it Jaredizing. Once a girl’s had a taste, she keeps coming back for more. And then I have to end things, feelings get hurt. Something Angelina never deserves.

  Handsy backs away, smarter than he acted at first. “No, man. I’m not arguing. Sheesh.” He shakes his head as he turns and ducks away into the crowd.

  I look up at Angelina. “You okay, baby?”

  Fuck if she doesn’t run her fingers over my closely cropped hair, her wide smile revealing one deep dimple. “Thank you,” she shouts over the music. “You’re the bomb.”

  The music shifts to Lady Gaga’s latest hit. Angelina jumps up and down, clearly thrilled with the DJ’s choice. “Woohoo!”

  I stay, grinning up at her like an idiot, because this girl draws me like a magnet.

  I see the glint of excitement in her eyes right before she launches herself at me. Straddling one shoulder and pumping her fist in the air.

  Holy Mother of God. My hand snaps up to her back to hold her in place as she fucking rocks her pelvis, dancing on my shoulder.

  At least I think she’s dancing. My brain tells me that’s what this activity is, but my cock is certain she’s begging to be fucked. Especially considering her pussy is inches away from my face.

  I sink my teeth into her inner thigh.

  She screams and grips my head with both hands, which only makes my dick think she wants more.

  Yeah, this isn’t going to work. If I don’t put her back down on that box now, my mouth is going to go to town on the little scrap of fabric standing between me and that sweet pussy of hers.

  I duck down to lower my shoulder and reluctantly let her slide off my shoulder, back to her perch. I can’t resist slapping that irresistible ass of hers before I turn and walk away.

  I don’t look back—I can’t—but I’m satisfied knowing I left a good handprint on that bare flesh she’s been shaking for everyone tonight.

  And seriously, I might have to tell her to come with her ass covered next week.

  No. I can’t. A) The short shorts that only cover half a girl’s ass are in style. All the college girls are sporting them. And B) The go-go dancers, and their delectable asses are part of why the club goes over-capacity every Saturday night. Garrett would not approve of me making changes to their costumes. Not that we have any artistic license over their act.

  It’s Angelina’s show. Her brainchild, her proposal, her execution. She brought her crew of dancers and they make the place pop.

  If only she didn’t leave me so blue-balled every time they performed.

  ~.~

  Angelina

  Oh, lordy.

  Jared, the beefy bouncer with the tattoos and dark flirty manner has me all a-flutter. My butt stings where he smacked me and I don’t have to look to know he left a big, red print for all to see.

  I have a feeling that was his intention.

  Damn my fair, red-headed complexion, because the flush creeping up my neck and spreading across my face is probably visible for all to see.

  I watch him disappear into the crowd, disappointed he never looks back. The man is beautiful. A perfect specimen of raw masculinity. He’s rough-mannered and tattooed, but damn, the man has enough charm to take all the edges off what might otherwise be an intimidating presence.

  And wow, that little show of force with the guy who’d been bugging her?

  Total turn-on.

  I turn my head to catch the eyes of the other two dancers on shift tonight and the three of us go into a pre-arranged combination, changing from freestyle to synchronized movement.

  Talya and Remy are both a little bit drunk, but we all know this routine so well we could do it in our sleep. Plus, professional or semi-professional dancers like us, with the amount of training in our bodies, can make anything look purposeful and choreographed.

  The song ends and our set is over. We get the last hour to play—drinks on the house. That was the deal I worked out with the owner, another huge and quite intimidating man named Garrett Green. Fifty bucks to split between us and free drinks in exchange for go-go dancing every Saturday night. Most of the girls on my makeshift dance team would do it just for the free cover and the attention they get up on those boxes.

  Me? I don’t know why I do it. Not for the drinks—I don’t do well with alcohol. Just for the sheer joy of creation, I guess. It’s fun to insert real dance into everyday life.

  Yes, I’m the type who loves musicals, where people suddenly break into song. I’m the girl who rides her cart down the aisle in the grocery story, choreographing a performance piece in my head for the shoppers I pass.

  Don’t worry, I don’t actually execute it. Not that I wouldn’t, if I could talk other dancers into joining me.

  I weave through the crowd, pretending I’m not looking for the sexy man-hunk, Jared. There. By the door to the back patio. I head to the bar because I don’t want to be too obvious. I don’t think he’s actually interested. I mean, I’ve given him the signal for weeks and although he gives me smoldering looks, he never actually asks for my number or suggests I hang out after hours.

  Total disappointment.

  I saddle up at the bar and order a tonic water
with lime. It’s my stupid trick to make it appear I’m drinking a gin and tonic or vodka and soda, when really I’m just hydrating. My friends get their drinks and mingle and I pretend to play it cool. A guy comes over to me, but I’m not interested, so I give a polite smile and head to the bathroom.

  When I get out, Jared is standing there in the hallway.

  “Come here, little girl.” He crooks a finger at me. I follow him through the staff-only door, into the storeroom, packed high with boxes of alcohol.

  Damn, if a fraternity ever wanted a place to rob, this would be the jackpot.

  My heart pounds, face heating even though I don’t even know what he wants.

  I mean, I know what I hope he wants.

  And I shouldn’t hope for it.

  From all accounts, Jared is a player. He hooks up with girls and never calls. That’s what everyone says, including his best buddy, the other bouncer, Trey. I’ve been warned off this guy, but I still can’t stop the thrills of excitement fluttering through my body.

  Jared picks up one of my hands. Before I have any clue what he’s doing, he spins me around to face a wall and slaps it there. Then he picks up my other wrist and stacks it with the first, pinning both with one powerful palm.

  My breath clogs my throat as his hand crashes down on my backside. Like before, he catches the underside of my butt, the bare part below my short shorts.

  I gasp, but don’t protest, way too turned on to want it to stop.

  He smacks the other cheek, just as hard. “That is for wearing shorts that make every guy in the building want to fuck this juicy ass.”

  I’m pretty sure I stop breathing. I’ve never been spoken to in such a rough and dirty manner, but I’m definitely not complaining. My lady parts are squeezing and swelling, planning a party for whatever else Jared has to offer.

  He spins me back around to face him. My back hits the wall and I lose my breath on an exhale. His hand goes right to the notch between my legs and he cups my mons.