Alpha Daddy

by Ava Sinclair

  “Sam,” she sighed. “I’m half your kind. I don’t know if I even have the gift. Even if I do, there’s no guarantee that our children…” She put her hands to her temples. “Hell, what am I even saying? Why am I even talking about… kids with Lakota.”

  Now Sam smiled. “Because when our kind finds the right mate, we know. We just know,” he said.

  Carly sighed. “He was supposed to be like a surrogate father.”

  Sam shrugged. “Makes no difference. He’s not your actual father, and the pack leader is like a surrogate father to all of us.”

  “That’s what Lakota said,” Carly replied. She looked over at Sam. “Look. I know we got off to a rocky start, but I hope we can be friends.”

  Sam didn’t immediately answer. “I can try,” he said. “I want to be your friend. But my anger is like the wolf. It wants to take over. Since my father died, I’ve dreamed of turning. Of just taking off and running and not transitioning back until I find a new place to live. Even on days that start out good, I get these periods of…”

  “No, Sam.” Carly’s tone was earnest as she addressed the young man. “Don’t do that. My father went rogue. He died alone and miserable as an alcoholic trying to hide his true nature from those who wouldn’t understand. I’d leave before I’d see you do something like that. Lakota would have to understand.”

  Sam stood and extended his hand to her. When she took it, he pulled her to her feet. “No one is leaving,” he said.

  “Promise me,” she said, not quite convinced.

  “I promise,” he said. But even as he spoke, he was looking toward the woods.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “It’s going to be okay. He’s not here. If he were here, I’d know.” Lakota had put a gentle hand on Carly’s back as she’d entered her father’s home to retrieve his laptop, business papers, and whatever else she’d need to work on foundation business from Lakota’s home.

  It had not been easy, walking back in, reliving the moment she’d discovered that her father’s enemy had torn through her home as Bear. As she picked up what she needed, Lakota told to her the transformation had been a blessing in disguise.

  “He must have been very, very angry to change,” he told her as he helped her retrieve files from the overturned desk. “I suspect he fled as soon as he transformed back. If he’d not lost control, he’d have taken the same things we are.”

  Carly had to agree, but it still frustrated her that the circumstances made it impossible to report the crime. Bruce Holder may not have gotten what he’d come for, but he’d done thousands of dollars’ worth of damage that could not be pinned on him. And reporting evidence of a rampaging bear would have begged the question of how it had gotten inside.

  Three hours later, Lakota and Carly were sitting at a café enjoying lunch. Lakota and his family enjoyed a meat-heavy diet, and Carly ordered a large chef salad she’d been craving, along with tomato bisque soup and a large slice of cheesecake.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you looking this pleased since the day I fucked you on the trail,” Lakota said as he watched her pop a forkful of dessert into her mouth.

  “You’re awful,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand as she spoke. But there was laughter in her eyes. She was both enjoying Lakota’s company and marveling at how handsome he looked in the casual suit he’d worn for a meeting with a gallery owner when they’d first arrived in town.

  “No, I’m not,” he replied. “And it pleases me to spoil my little one with dinner. And with other surprises.” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a brochure. “I’ve been saving this one all day. I’ve booked us a room here for an overnight stay.”

  Carly looked down and gasped at the brochure for one of the region’s finest bed and breakfast establishments.

  “How… this place books up nearly a year in advance!” she said.

  “I’m a friend of the owner. She runs a charity for the local literacy program and I donate a piece every year for the annual fundraiser. Each time I do, she always tells me to let her know if I ever need a favor. I called yesterday about a room and she said she’d just had a cancellation and so we’re in.”

  Carly squealed. She loved living at Lakota’s house, but the idea of staying in Anchorage for a night excited her. And true to his word, Lakota spoiled her thoroughly for the rest of the day.

  “You’ll need clothing for the cold,” he said, and took her to a shop that specialized in fashionable cold-weather attire.

  “I can always go back to the house and get some of mine,” she objected, but Lakota insisted, telling her that he was in the mood for a fashion show.

  For Carly, the indulgence was enjoyable from an aspect she’d not even expected. She modeled each outfit for Lakota, who had her turn this way and that before approving or vetoing her choice in a deliciously paternal way. One outfit gave him particular pause, a cute and completely impractical suede mini-dress with a fur-trimmed hem. Carly paired it with a pair of matching knee-high fur-trimmed boots sporting playful fur pom-pom tassels.

  Lakota rose and stalked around her when she emerged from the dressing room, reminding Carly of the wolf hidden within. Even here, sitting in an upscale boutique, he evoked mystery and power. Carly knew she wasn’t the only one who noticed. As the attendants brought her outfits to try, they cast longing glances at the long-legged gentleman with the black ponytail.

  “We’ll take it,” he told one of them, smiling at Carly, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “As much as I enjoy dressing my little one, I know the real pleasure will come in trying not to tear off the new things I’ve bought her.”

  He wasn’t finished spoiling her, either. The next stop was one of the city’s most expensive lingerie shops. Here, Carly was surprised to find that Lakota’s tastes ran to the more conservative. She’d been eyeing the pushup bras and thongs when he brought over several girlish teddies in soft pink hues, several white cotton panties and two baby-doll style nightgowns that conveyed both innocence and sensuality.

  “It’s too much,” she said later as they settled into the beautiful suite of rooms at the B&B. While Miles Fowler had been wealthy and generous with Carly, he’d also been a frugal man who’d wanted her to learn the principles of thrift. Carly had worked while in college and pinched her pennies. She wasn’t used to extravagances such as this, and now ran from room to room marveling at the antique furniture, the romantic velvet-draped canopy bed, the huge fireplace with the carved oak mantel and in the bathroom, an amazing turn-of-the-century claw-foot bathtub ironically coupled with a huge and very modern shower stall.

  Lakota was already undressing, laughing as he watched her run about.

  “It’s bath time for my little one,” he said. “Then bed.”

  “It’s too early to sleep!” Carly said, pulling down one of the books on the shelf. Lakota snatched it from her hand. He was shirtless, the scars that Bear had given him silver against his bronzed chest.

  “Who says we’re sleeping?” he asked, pulling her knit dress over her head and tossing it on a nearby chair. “But believe me. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be too tired to move. I intend to wear my little one out so that she sleeps well through the night.”

  Lakota scooped her up and took her to the bathroom, sitting her on the edge of the tub while he turned on the shower taps. Carly watched the water steam the interior of the shower stall as Lakota walked back over and kneeled to remove the boots she was wearing, leaving her naked save for her bra and panties. He removed them both, smiling wolfishly at her as he did, then kicked off his own shoes and finished undressing himself.

  The jets in the shower were powerful, the water stinging as it pelted her skin. Lakota knelt again, lapping the water off her belly, her thighs, her breasts as the arousal began to flow between Carly’s legs. Her pussy was pulsing with need, and when he roughly spun her around and planted a bite on the underside of each buttock, she was taken aback when this alone made her com
e hard, sending waves of pleasure coursing outward through her core.

  Left weak in the knees, she sank down to them, turning and hugging Lakota’s strong thighs before turning her face up to him. The spray was hitting his back, framing him in a watery aura, droplets dripping from the ink black hair plastered now to his head and shoulders. He was beautiful, like some sort of feral god here in this civilized space, and she reached up to caress his cock. It was already stiff, the head crowned with a shiny droplet of pre-cum.

  “Please,” she said, and he pushed his hips forward in silent reply.

  It felt so good, so submissive, to pleasure him while on her knees on the hard tile floor, the steam rising around her as the seed rose from the balls she cupped and rolled in her hands.

  Carly bobbed her head up and down on the rigid shaft, feeling the veiny ridges pulse under her tongue, reveling in the clean, musky scent of him. He was moaning, and the sounds of his pleasure increased her desire to serve him, to please him.

  Swallowing his tribute seemed as natural as the feel of his hands on her body, and when he pulled her to standing and whispered words of love into her ear, Carly felt herself filled with happiness and belonging. She could hardly believe it when he lifted her so she was straddling his waist and pushed her against the wall, his cock hard again as it pushed into her.

  “You just… how…?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  He quirked a brow and smiled. “Are you just now realizing I’m not like other men?” he asked, pulling out and thrusting inside her again as she moaned. “My kind recovers quickly, little one.”

  He’d told her he was going to wear her out, and he did. Lakota fucked her hard in the shower, his mouth covering hers to absorb the cries of passion. When he moved her to the bed, he pushed her on all fours and buried his face between her legs, his mouth feasting on her pussy and then—to her surprise—her bottom hole. She moaned in red-faced, blissful shame as his tongue rimmed the tight pucker of her anus before probing it, and when she demurely asked him to stop, his response was to rise to his knees and deliver five harsh spanks to her bottom that left her sobbing with pain and need.

  This time, she allowed the insertion of his finger in her bottom, and found herself pushing back against the pressure as his other finger strummed her clit. She knew what he was readying her for, and tried to imagine what it would be like—to take his huge cock in her bottom. She imagined submitting to the stretch, the pain, and just the thought of enduring this for Lakota made her nipples tighten and her clit throb.

  “Do you want it?” he growled as if reading her thoughts. “Does my sweet little one want me to fuck her sweet bottom hole, her virgin ass?”

  Virgin ass.

  His words, so wicked, so raw… Lakota held nothing back, describing to her how she tasted—salty and sweet—and teasing her in a way that made her toes curl.

  “I should call you Little Red Riding Hood,” he said. “Because I’m the Big Bad Wolf that wants to eat you up.”

  She giggled at this, but the sexual taunting made her nipples ache, and when his teeth gently scored them, she bit back, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. This earned her another spanking, but this time Carly lifted her hips, her body welcoming his correction. When the last slap had landed, she wanted more and raised her hips higher, looking back at him, begging to be filled.

  She was sore from the long night of fucking, but still reveled in the feeling, of knowing he was the cause of the pleasure pain she felt in her pussy, the ache in her muscles from orgasms that literally caused her whole body to quake.

  And when it was finally over, she found he was right. She was exhausted down to the bone as she lay half-draped across his muscular body, her fingers tracing the five claw marks on his chest.

  “You never told me what happened,” she said groggily.

  “It was years ago, when I first encountered Bear on our land,” she said. “We were both younger then. I was alone and challenged him. He caught me across the chest with his claws. Usually, we heal completely, but this was deep.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t deeper,” she said. “It would have reached your heart.”

  “The only way he could cut me deep enough to do that is to take you away from me, my sweet little Carly,” he said. “My little mate, my little one.”

  “That’s not going to happen, is it?” she asked, suddenly needing the reassurance.

  “No,” he said. “It won’t.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  He could get used to this—having someone to spoil.

  Lakota knew Carly would be sad about having to leave Anchorage, so he saved his one special gift for the morning. He couldn’t help but laugh when she opened it, her eyes widening as she comprehended the meaning in light of the previous night’s bedtime comment.

  “I love it!” she cried, donning the red wool cape and twirling in front of the Cheval mirror that sat in the corner of the room. She was wearing the cute mini dress and boots. Combined with the knee-length cape, the ensemble made her look like a very grownup little girl on the way to Grandma’s house.

  “All that’s missing is the basket,” he quipped, and she leapt into his arms, kissing him full on the mouth with appreciation.

  “Whoa, now,” he said, regretfully pushing her away. “Believe me, I’d like nothing more than to take you back to bed. And one more kiss, and that’s where we’ll end up.” He turned away. “Unfortunately, we have to hit the road. And there’s been a change of plans. We need to stop off at Kellerman’s Gallery on the way out of town.”

  Carly must have caught the frown he tried to hide. “Why?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. The owner has a wealthy client who wants a specially commissioned piece. He’s pretty eager for me to stop on the way out of town and get the details so I can start on it. We won’t be long.”

  Carly didn’t mind. Before leaving, they enjoyed a hearty breakfast—ham, bacon and eggs for Lakota and Belgian waffles with fruit compote and whipped topping for her. It was a huge meal, and she felt languid afterwards despite two cups of French-pressed coffee. By the time they reached the gallery, she was yawning.

  “Come in, Little Red Riding Hood,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked. “I’m not invited.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He opened his door.

  She reached out and touched his arm. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “And the truck is warm. Can I just nap while you go inside? You said yourself it wouldn’t take long.” When he didn’t immediately answer, she affected a sleepy pout. “Please. I’m sleepy.”

  Lakota grinned. “Alright. But lock the doors.”

  “I will.” He left the truck and Carly leaned her head against the door and yawned as she watched him go inside. Her next awareness was short and sharp—a rush of air, a drop as she fell from the open door, a gasp and a burning in her nose. Then… nothing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Patience is a virtue. Especially to the hunter. Speed and strength mattered, but so did the Art of Waiting, the Art of Knowing. Sometimes Bear would follow a caribou for days, waiting for one weak animal to fall behind, to become separate from the herd.

  The same principles had applied here, and just when he was about to give up.

  He had few friends in the city. Most of those who associated with Bruce Holder did so because they were fearful or bought off. Lakota Longtree was respected in the art world, but when word reached Bruce that the Kellerman Gallery was struggling, he stopped in, looking for a piece from a certain scrimshaw artist. Satisfied that Kellerman was one of Lakota’s customers, he offered to invest in the gallery. It wasn’t hard to get the owner to lure Lakota to the gallery. Bruce hadn’t really planned what he’d do if Carly accompanied him inside. Waylay Lakota in the nearly empty parking lot? Follow them and run them off the road afterwards?

  That Lakota had left his little charge alone in the vehicle seemed almost too good to be true. He’d parked behind the building, on the windowless side. And
Bruce Holder—who was always ready for anything—had cracked open the bottle of ether and soaked a handkerchief with it.

  Poor little thing. She’d not even known what hit her. She’d been leaning against the door when he pulled it open, and she’d practically fallen into his arms—a gift. Bruce had simultaneously clasped the handkerchief over her nose as he caught her and turned to run back to his SUV. She’d struggled frantically in his arms, and he felt her body heave in a spasm before it went limp.

  He tossed her in the back and jumped in the driver’s seat, resisting the urge to peel out of the parking lot. He took the back entrance out, and didn’t gun the engine until he hit the highway. Only when he got to the airstrip, where he bound the still unconscious girl, did he pull out Lakota Longtree’s card to text a message.

  “Little Red’s gone to the cottage in the woods,” he said. “I’ve taken her to meet your friend. See you there.”

  Beside him, Carly moaned and Bruce smirked as he looked out over the runway. He wasn’t worried that Lakota would call the authorities. Wolf knew if he tried to involve humans in this matter, they’d arrive to find Carly dead—the unfortunate victim of a bear attack. Part of his heritage meant never having to answer for what he did.

  He chuckled, imagining Lakota’s wild grief. Would he be so distraught he’d shift right there in the gallery parking lot? The thought made him laugh out loud, and in her dreams, the girl beside him moaned again, fear of the sound invading her subconscious.

  “Lakota,” she cried through the haze.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” Bruce said. “You’ll see him soon enough.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  No! No! No!

  It had been all Lakota could do not to scream the words that roared inside his head. Rage consumed him when he saw the truck door standing open—rage at himself. Why did he allow her to stay in the vehicle? Why had he allowed the glow of happiness to lull him into the fantasy that he was just a normal man with a normal woman?