Her Alpha Dog: An Age Gap, Alpha Man Romance

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Her Alpha Dog: An Age Gap, Alpha Man Romance Page 3

by Katana Collins


  “M-Mister Murphy,” I tried again.

  He nodded in approval, but the dark swirl of arousal still clung to his onyx eyes. “Discomfort can be a good thing,” he said, and with a pucker of his lips, he blew a streaming breath of warm air across my pussy, kneading his hands into my thigh muscles. The air, combined with his massage allowed me to relax, just enough so that when he licked me, a single quick motion of his wet tongue to my clit, I didn’t flinch.

  A blazing hot, sharp sensation spiked through me, and I gasped as the tension shattered, splintering me into a million pieces. He delicately licked me, gently, carefully, like the first lick of whipped cream off of a sundae, before pressing his mouth to my clit and kissing me there.

  “Good girl,” he cooed, rewarding my good behavior with a circular motion of his tongue around my opening.

  Then, without warning, he latched his mouth around my clit. I shouted, my knees clamping together around his face, but that didn’t stop his voracious and insatiable appetite for me.

  Intense pleasure and discomfort and something so new and fresh to me that I couldn’t quite place it soared, blasting through my body.

  My lungs burned and my heart slammed against my ribcage with each hurried beat. I felt tight, and the room was spinning, like I was on a tilt-a-whirl without a safety net and any minute I could be launched off of it.

  Like a pressure-cooker, the tension was built higher and higher until finally, sweet rapture exploded. My limbs trembled, quaking with each clutching pulse of my orgasm, and I thrashed in his arms, pitching my hips and fighting Josh as he held me down, wrapping his arms around my thighs, never relenting his mouth on my pussy. He swallowed every drop of my orgasm as a burst of color erupted behind my eyes.

  I was a panting, sweating mess when the tremors finally dissolved. I was exhausted, my arms and legs weak and trembling.

  “What do you say we have a shower?”

  But it clearly wasn’t a question, because next thing I knew, I was in his arms, and he set me on the bench in the shower.

  Bending, he grabbed the soap and, beginning with feet and ankles, washed up my body, gently kneading his fingers against my muscles. “You… you don’t have to do that,” I said, unsure why I felt so uneasy at the sight of him caring for me. “Letting me use your shower is enough.” This was just supposed to be a one-time thing. He was Josh Murphy, for God’s sake. A movie and tv-star… and I was the girl who walked his dog.

  His chest hitched. “I don’t have to do anything,” he said. “But I want to. I want to take care of you.”

  I shifted uneasily on the bench in the shower. “My ankle barely hurts anymore.”

  He stood and looked up, moving the soap up my abs to my breasts. “You spilled coffee on yourself, did you not?”

  I nodded, throat tight.

  “And you were dirty not only from that, but from your come literally dripping down your thighs.” His voice was tight. So controlled, but on the precipice of something that might crack.

  “And you fell several feet over a railing, twisting your ankle. Even if it doesn’t hurt much… you still had some pain. Did you not?”

  “Yes.” I hadn’t meant to whisper, but it came out that way all the same.

  “Then, for fuck’s sake, Chelsea, let me help you. Unless you don’t like my hands on you like this.” The soap brushed across my nipple, sudsy and slick and a breath hitched in my chest. A smile lingered on his mouth. “That’s what I thought. So just let me help you. Let me take care of you. With you… no amount of effort is too much.”

  Josh was sexy and kind and attentive… and famous. Some woman would be lucky to have him as a partner. But that woman wasn’t me. It wasn’t the girl from Chino who had barely escaped with her high school diploma. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my roots. Quite the contrary. I was proud of how far I’d come. I was proud that I was working hard and making something of my life out of nothing. But it didn’t change the fact that movie stars don’t pick girls like me to be with.

  I inhaled a steady breath, and despite the tremble I felt in my chest, it came out smooth. “Josh,” I said pointedly, and his eyes snapped to mine. Attentive and angry, he watched me closely, but didn’t interrupt me mid-sentence. That’s right, I thought. It’s Josh now. Play time was over. It was time for real names. Mr. Murphy was the lust-filled game… Josh was my boss. That’s how it had to be now. “Whatever this was… it’s okay that it was just sex. And that it’s over. It was—”

  “I swear to God, if you say was one more time I’m going to turn you over and spank that tight ass of yours until it’s pink,” Josh growled.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He might be famous. He might make a lot more money than me. But that didn’t mean he got to talk to me like that. Or spank me. Although the thought of him spanking me had my body clenching with need once more. Stupid, double-crossing body! Keep it together, nipples!

  I stood up, the dull pain in my ankle spiking as I pushed past him and quickly rinsed the soap from my body. Then, reaching beyond the shower, I snapped a towel off the rack on the wall and covered my body, stepping out of the stream of water still pelting him in the back. “Well,” I said, my voice eerily quiet. “Us fucking happened in the past. Not to get all grammar nerd on you or anything, but if we don’t address it as was, how would you refer to it?”

  He reached around and shut off the water before taking a step closer. “Present tense,” he said. “Because no way in hell are we done yet.”

  He snaked his arm around my back, the soft cotton of the towel pressing against my wet skin. “You had fun, didn’t you?” I nodded as his lips found that tender spot below my ear. “Then why would you not want to continue doing this?”

  “You’re my boss,” I whispered. “And I need this job while I get my real estate license.”

  He pulled back, gazing into my eyes, and nodded. “I understand that. What if we draw up a contract that states fireable offenses—tardiness, messiness, cruelty to Cola—”

  My mouth gaped open. “I would never hurt Cola—”

  He pressed an index finger to my mouth, shushing me. How could he even think that I could be cruel or hurt Cola? Or any animal for that matter. “I know that,” he said, dragging his finger gently across my lips. “I also know that you would never be late without calling or for good reason. But if it makes you feel better about this—about us—I would draw up that contract. And I would also change it so that you report to my assistant, not me, when it came to your dog walking job here.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  With a nod, he sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I would do anything for you, Chelsea. I’ve been falling in love with you for weeks.”

  Love? Love?! We’d only known each other for two weeks! My head felt fuzzy, and I couldn’t hear over the deafening roar in my mind. “I… I don’t…”

  “Don’t say anything just yet,” Josh said. “I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way yet. Just… say you’ll go to dinner with me. Tonight.”

  “I want to,” I answered honestly. His smile beamed with my admission, and a pang of regret sliced through my core at what I was about to admit next. “But… I’m really nervous about your lifestyle. I don’t know how you live like you do.”

  “How I live like I do?”

  “In the spotlight.”

  “Ah.” Comprehension relaxed his features and he nodded. “It might be hard to believe, but most of the time, my life is pretty mellow.”

  Yeah right. Though I didn’t say the words out loud, apparently, I didn’t need to.

  “Honestly,” he said. “Most days I live a pretty normal life. I have a handful of trusted restaurants and businesses where people know I’m there but usually ignore me. I walk Cola. I cook dinner. I’m not going to stand here and promise you that I won’t ever get bombarded or recognized. But, let’s be real for a second… I’m on a network tv show where in the last episode, I gave my bro
ther a swirlie. I’m not George Clooney here.”

  “But your life seems complicated,” I said. “I just don’t know that I’m cut out for that.”

  Josh took my hands in his, giving them an encouraging squeeze. “Sure, my life is a little weird and sometimes complicated. But if you think you want someone and something simple… I think you’re kidding yourself. You are vivacious, driven, smart, playful… and you, Chelsea Griffin, are complicated.”

  It was like he could see through me right to my core. See through all my bullshit and shields and walls and armor to the real me. He was right. One hundred percent right. I grew up in a simple household. There was nothing wrong with it… but I’d escaped that life. And what even is that word? Simple. It’s a stupid word. It means different things to all of us. In some ways, many ways, if what Josh said was true, he did live a simple life. Yeah, he was on a tv show, but he loved his brothers and his family and his dog. And I never saw him in the tabloids out partying or anything.

  He paused, his throat moving with a thick swallow. “One date. That’s all I’m asking from you, Chelsea. If after that one date, you would rather just be Cola’s dog walker, I promise to accept that.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Once again, that breathtaking smile took over his face. “Okay?”

  I nodded. “One date. Let’s see how this goes.” I didn’t entirely believe that Josh could have a normal date, let alone a normal relationship, but I was willing to try. I really did like him… and maybe even with time… I could love him.

  Reaching out, Josh took the towel from where it was bunched in my clenched hand and unraveled it from my body. “Then get back in that shower, baby.”

  Excitement stabbed in my chest and I smirked. “Yes, Mr. Murphy.”

  Chapter 6

  Josh

  The smell of salt and sea filled the evening air as Chelsea and I walked out of my favorite Greek restaurant.

  Our dinner date had gone smoothly. It was almost perfect. Granted, I had arranged it down to the minute. I was careful to take Chelsea to Athena’s. I’d eaten there so many times and I knew they would only allow other patrons in the room who acted with discretion and understood that a dinner out was not the time to come up and ask me for a selfie. Restaurants like Athena’s were few and far between, which was why it had my loyalty as a customer.

  Walking beside her, we made our way to my parked car in a garage down the street. My arm swinging beside hers, our knuckles brushed, and the spark that surged up my arm was a reminder to how strongly I loved this woman. I took a moment, waiting to see if she’d make the move first—she didn’t. Then, I slipped my hand around hers, lacing our fingers as we fell into step.

  Her shoulders visibly tightened as we made our way toward the garage. I had thought it would be okay to grab her hand—we’d made love four times today. Twice more after our shower before I was called on set to film and once when I picked up her for dinner. She looked utterly gorgeous in her off-the-shoulder red top and white jeans. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her—and she didn’t want me to, either.

  But now seemed like a different story. Here, in public, where anyone could see us, she pulled away from me. Not just physically, either. But emotionally. She may have been holding my hand while we walked, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

  This was supposed to be fine. We had both agreed to one date—but I guess I’d assumed I could convince her within that one date’s span that our relationship was worth pursuing. But now, I could physically feel the barriers she’d put up around me. Like she was afraid to let herself fall in love—and I wasn’t sure if that was in general, or with me.

  We had two more blocks until we reached the parking garage. Then, if she really wasn’t interested in me anymore, I’d take her home and let her live her life. Go on as simply my dog walker, even though it would kill me every single day I saw her snuggling with Cola.

  But then, something magical happened. Her hand relaxed in mine, and she started tracing little circles over my knuckle with her thumb. Sweet relief filled me, and my voice rumbled with gratitude in a hum that was completely out of my control.

  Beside me, Chelsea giggled, leaning in to press her lips to my shoulder. “You can’t be ready to go again, can you?”

  Oh, baby. You don’t know me yet if you’re asking that question. “With you, I can always be ready.”

  I squeezed her hand as her eyes dilated. Staring at me while we walked, she stumbled over a dip in the sidewalk. I quickly caught her before she went down and brought her to the nearest bench to sit for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” I fell to my knees in front of her, lifting her bad foot and examining it again. There was a bit of bruising on the outer edge, but mostly it looked okay with no swelling that I could see.

  She winced and bent down to rub her bad ankle. “Sorry. I should have been watching where I was going.”

  I smiled and stood to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I shouldn’t have made you walk three blocks to the restaurant. I could have brought the car around.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for my clumsiness! This is not your fault.”

  I skimmed my hand up her calf and smiled at her white Keds—now a little dingy from the spilled coffee, despite our best efforts to clean them. “You wear these a lot,” I said.

  Embarrassed, she tugged her leg free from my hands, and I felt my brows pull into a frown. What was wrong now? “I love Keds, but they’re annoyingly expensive. They have these super cute Kate Spade glitter ones I’ve been saving up for. And I get a new pair from Tula every year on my birthday—usually white because within the year no amount of bleach will clean them.” She blew a tight breath from pursed lips and scuffed the shoes against the concrete sidewalk. “Who knew these’d get so dirty so fast.”

  I licked my lips, noting how bright white this pair still was, even with the coffee spill. “They look brand new… your birthday must have been recently.”

  “Three weeks ago.” A grin split her face. “The big twenty-two.”

  Fuck me. I knew she was younger than me… I didn’t realize she was ten years younger than me. It didn’t bother me that she was so young, but the last thing I wanted was to give Chelsea more reason to think we couldn’t work.

  Her face dropped. “What is it?”

  I shook my head and forced a smile. “Nothing. Just… sad I missed your birthday.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  I shook my head and sat next to her on the bench, lowering my mouth to her neck. I couldn’t keep my hands or lips off this woman. “Not even a little.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “March 23rd,” I answered, then stiffened. It was now or never. I couldn’t hide my age from her—she must know I’m older. There was no point hiding it. “I’ll be thirty-three this year.”

  Her eyes went wide before a smile melted her face, and her teeth slid across her bottom lips. She bumped me with her shoulder. “I’ve always liked older men… Mr. Murphy.”

  My cock twitched and I growled. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

  “Who says I’m not going to finish?”

  She leaned forward and claimed my mouth—naughty girl. But while there was a lot I might ‘punish’ her for… I could never punish her for kissing me. Not when I worked so damn hard to earn that kiss in the first place.

  I slid my tongue into her mouth and scooped my hand into her hair. “Then let’s go home, baby.”

  Chapter 7

  Chelsea

  The last few days with Josh had been utterly perfect. And that wasn’t a word I threw around freely. He was sexy, but sweet. Attentive, but not smothering. And I swore, he knew my body better than even I did.

  And I was falling in love with him.

  Which was easily the most terrifying thing I’d ever experienced—and I lived in a neighborhood where the “ice cream truck”
sold drugs rather than soft serve. But this? Falling in love with a man who was famous—someone who I needed more than he needed me? It was my worst nightmare. It was everything my mother had warned me against my entire life.

  But Josh made me feel safe.

  These warring emotions were a constant battle in my mind the past few days. Josh was unlike any celebrity I’d ever met or heard of. And he’d been right. The time we’d spent together this week was… normal, for lack of a better word. Yes, there were times people recognized him on the street. But for the most part, he was just a guy who went to the gym and worked and walked his dog, then came home and cooked dinner and watched Netflix.

  He was just a man.

  Granted, a very, very sexy one, but even still… just a man.

  My man, ready for the taking if I wanted him. He’d made that very clear. I just needed to admit it. Claim him as mine officially.

  Even though I wasn’t scheduled to take care of Cola today, I had worked so much out in my mind in the last couple of days… and I had to see Josh. We spent last night apart for the first time in a few days, and I barely got any sleep, tossing and turning. Instead of lying in bed all morning, staring at the ceiling, I decided to get my ass up and finally, finally admit my true feelings to Josh.

  I was ready to do this—really do this—with him.

  Carrying two cups of black coffee with my name scribbled in black sharpie by the barista, I made my way up the steps to his trailer, and without knocking, I shouldered the door open.

  “Morning,” I called out and nearly choked. There, handcuffed to his daybed in the corner of the room was a curvy blond. Completely nude.

  She gave a little squeak, her hands tugging against the handcuffs, but she was unable to cover her nudity. “Who are you?” she cried.

  I stuttered, words unable to form on my tongue, which was suddenly too swollen to speak. “Ummm… I’m uh, just… just the dog walker.” I finally managed to answer.

 

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