Southern Alpha Book Three

by Carina Wilder

  I wondered how annoyed Trick would be if he knew his friend was playing matchmaker for him. Still, I was grateful. “I…enjoyed his, too,” I said. “It was nice to meet him at the party. He was…nice.” You just said nice twice, idiot.

  “Uh-huh.” Louis shuffled a few papers around before asking, “How’s the leg, anyhow?” When he looked sideways at me, I felt my cheeks heat up. If he knew about my wound, he probably also knew I’d been with Trick after the bash, which meant he knew about…

  But before I had a chance to reply, the back door opened and the man himself stepped inside, stealing my breath away. And also, apparently, my brain.

  Trick was dressed a dark gray t-shirt that pulled across his chest, with a pair of dark blue jeans that fit his muscular thighs far too well. As I slid my gaze over him, I was shocked to realized that I’d all but forgotten how huge and intimidating a force the alleged lord of New Orleans was.

  Intimidating, yet cowardly. When he spotted me he froze in place, looking like he wanted to run away screaming.

  “Shit,” he said. “Fuck.”

  “Just Sierra will do, thanks,” I replied with a faint smile.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” He slipped both hands into his long hair, pulling it back and away from the bronzed features of his perfect, kissable face. Damn, how had I already forgotten how delicious his cheekbones were? “I guess I didn’t think you’d really come,” he said. “Even though…”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. I looked at Louis for a second. “How is it that you guys knew I was coming, anyhow?”

  But both men ignored my question. “What are you doing here, blondie?” Trick asked.

  Louis spun around to look at him. “Sierra wants to go for a ride on something big and hard,” he said. “By that, I mean one of our boats.”

  Trick glared at him before fixing his eyes on me. Once again, they sparkled with that iridescent energy of theirs, pulling me in just as they managed to scare me a little.

  Under his shirt, his chest heaved slightly as if he was excited but didn’t want to admit it.

  “You really want to go out on the water?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Is it possible?”

  Trick exhaled and looked away, then strode over to the desk and started thumbing his way through papers. “Louis should probably take you,” he said. “I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Ah,” I replied, trying not to let them see my disappointment. I liked Louis well enough. He was friendly, gorgeous, funny. Every woman’s dream, except for mine. My dream was currently standing with his back to me, his perfect ass encased in a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been custom-made by someone who worshiped his body as much as I did.

  He looked like walking sex. But he also looked like a man who wished himself a million miles away from me, and I cursed myself again for thinking it was a good idea to show up at his workplace.

  “Oh, fuck off, Trick,” Louis said. “There’s nothing you need to do that can’t wait. Just take her. I’ll look after things around here.”

  Trick shot him a poisonous glare, and for a second I wondered if the two men were going to get into some sort of gorgeous-man-fist-fight over who wanted least to spend time in my presence.

  But Louis turned my way before any brawl broke out. “Here’s what’s going to happen today,” he said. “Trick is going to take you on a little cruise, and he’s going to feel better for having done it. Right, boss?”

  “Fine,” Trick growled, summoning me with his hand without bothering to turn around. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”

  I followed him out back to a floating dock. A steel-gray boat bounced lazily against the wooden pier. Its sides were low to the water, and horizontal ridges ran along its length like racing stripes. An enormous fan—as big as an airplane propeller and encased in a large yellow cage—was mounted at the rear of the boat, with three rows of elevated, padded seats in front.

  “It’s…nice,” I said, though the truth was that I would have liked something that sat higher up in the water. The low sides of this particular craft looked far too inviting for any creature that felt compelled to slither its way on board.

  “It gets people from A to B,” Trick replied, his tone so cold that I was surprised I couldn’t see his breath. “That’s good enough for me.”

  He stepped onto the flat, broad vessel and held out a hand to help me on. Just as it had been last night, his touch was fire, igniting a spark of pure pleasure that worked its way straight to my sex. I averted my eyes, focusing on the seat in front of me. If I looked at him for another second, I’d probably lose my balance and go tumbling off the side of the boat.

  I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or if he held onto my hand just a little longer than he needed to, even after I was safely on board. After he let go, he untied us and pushed away from the dock, setting the boat adrift. I sat down on one of the metal seats and pressed my knees together.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d just walked into a self-imposed dream, or a nightmare of my own making. What the hell was I thinking, isolating myself in the middle of the bayou with a guy who wanted nothing to do with me? But I kept my mouth shut, my eyes focusing on anything but the guy who was about to steer us down the narrow river—and presumably keep me from getting devoured by gators. After a minute, though, I realized that nothing of the sort was happening.

  Why isn’t he starting the fan up? Why are we just sitting here?

  “Sierra…” he said after a long moment of awkward silence.

  “Yes?” I turned in my seat to meet his eyes only to find that he was staring at me, his lips parting like he was on the verge of saying something deeply important.

  “Nothing,” he muttered.

  Without another word, he started up the noisy engine and steered the boat away from the dock.

  Chapter 2

  Trick

  Man, did I ever want to despise Sierra for coming.

  But for some stupid reason, every emotion that insisted on springing to life in my chest was the exact opposite of hatred. Affection. Warmth. Admiration. Even gratitude for going against my wishes.

  The moment she’d stepped out of my truck and my life last night, I’d felt like a giant set of jaws had clamped down and torn part of me away. It was terrifying, crippling, to realize how deeply attached I’d become. I’d grown so needful of her so quickly that it scared me more than any shifter could.

  For so many years I’d been so good at telling myself I didn’t need a woman in my life, let alone a human woman. They were nothing but unnecessary complications.

  But Sierra was different. Whether or not I liked facing the truth, her presence only seemed to make my world better. Her touch was healing sunlight on my skin. Her voice was refreshing, invigorating water rippling its way down my parched throat. Twenty-four hours ago I hadn’t known she existed. But now I knew that I’d needed her all my life.

  And here she was, come to heal me all over again in spite of the fact that I’d pushed her away.

  But fuck, I had no idea what to say or do.

  For a time we sat silent as the boat skimmed over the water. Normally, I would have told a client what it was that they were seeing around them. I would have pointed out the wildlife. Egrets, herons, hawks flying overhead. I’d have shown them the gators, otters, snapping turtles, cottonmouths, and pit vipers slipping through the water below. I would have gestured to the vegetation—cattails, saw grass, water hyacinth, and cypress trees—growing in unrestricted abundance. Being out on the bayous and wetlands of New Orleans was like being on another planet, and I could go on for hours, dazzling tourists with the countless amazing things this strange, beautiful and occasionally dangerous world had to offer.

  But I didn’t feel like talking just now.

  Sierra, on the other hand, seemed to have come for more than just a quiet ride. Well, of course she had. You didn’t make your way deep into bayou country just to smell the damned non-existent roses.

  A
fter a while she slipped over to the seat nearest to me. When I evaded her eyes, pulling my gaze to the distance, she reached a hand out and touched my arm, filling me all over again with the same brutal, raw desire I’d felt last night. I almost wanted to tell her not to touch me, that her fingers were like fire on my flesh.

  But this particular flame was life-sustaining.

  “Trick!” she called out over the noise of the fan behind me.

  I grimaced, slowed the boat to a crawl, and cut the engine. The fan sputtered down to a slow, casual spin as the boat continued to drift lazily along in the water.

  “You want to say something?” I asked over the sound of the murky water lapping at the aluminum sides of the boat. I was perfectly aware of how hostile I sounded. I should probably have been nicer. I should have thanked her for coming and reiterated the point I’d tried to make last night about why I was no good for her. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To reassure herself that I was a total dick so, she could walk away for good?

  She nodded. “Yes, I want to say something. Look, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about last night.”

  Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I looked into her eyes to see if she was serious.

  “Sorry?” I asked. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for? Last night was mayhem, but not because of you. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

  “No, but I complicated your evening, to put it mildly,” she said. “Not only did I become a casualty in some war I clearly don’t belong in, I…I didn’t handle it well when you dropped me off at the end of it all. I was an ass. You healed me. You looked after me. I should have invited you in, or talked things out…or something. It was so weird how we left everything.”

  “There was nothing to talk out,” I said. “I was trying to be responsible and respectful. Jesus, Sierra, it’s not like we’re dating. We don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

  At that she pulled back, her spine straightening like she’d turned to stone. “No. Of course we’re not dating,” she said. “But I owe you a lot. You saved me last night, and I…let my desires get the better of me. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

  Her voice had gone cold, jagged like frost. Great. Now I’d gone and hurt her feelings.

  “Look, the truth is…” I began. Except I couldn’t tell her the truth. No matter what Louis said to the contrary, Sierra couldn’t know what I really was. Damn it. I was supposed to become Alpha of this place. That meant playing by the traditions of my kind. Humans weren’t usually accepted into a wolf pack’s fold, no matter how sexy their curves, or how big and sweet their pretty blue eyes were.

  Or even how delicious their pussies tasted under the sweep of my tongue.

  “I have a hard time committing,” I blurted out. Better to let her think I’m an immature shithead than a guy with an angry wolf inside him.

  “I wasn’t looking for a commitment,” she replied, her voice strained. “I was hoping for a roll in the hay. I find—found—you attractive. That’s all. Fuck, Trick, women can have sex and walk away. We’re not needy monsters. It’s not like I’m infatuated with you or something.” With that she pulled her head sideways, refusing to meet my gaze, which told me she was lying.

  “Yeah, well,” I growled impulsively, “Maybe I don’t want to get involved because it turns out I’m pretty infatuated with you.” As I said the words, my eyes swept over her face and body. Her white blouse was open just enough to tease me with a glance at the curve of her breasts. She was wearing a dark burgundy bra. I could see it through her blouse, and I was pretty sure it was lace, which was driving me nuts. I couldn’t help but think about those pretty, sensitive pink nipples of hers. How they’d hardened under my tongue. How my dick had gone rock hard as I’d come so close to…

  “I wasn’t asking you to commit. I just wanted to feel you inside me,” she blurted out before cupping her hand over her mouth like she’d realized she’d made a mistake and wanted to go back and delete it. When she dropped her hand she chewed on her lower lip for a second—which made my jeans feel suddenly tighter with the hard-on that was throbbing against my fly—and gazed at the surrounding landscape. “It’s pretty here,” she said distantly.

  “Nice way to change the subject, blondie.”

  She didn’t look at me. “It is, though. Like, really pretty. I had no idea.”

  I took a look around. I was so used to these trees, the water, the floating duckweed and the long overhanging leaves of the bush palmettos that I supposed I’d begun to take them for granted over the years.

  What I wasn’t used to was having the sexiest woman I’d ever met sitting in my boat, while I reminded myself that I couldn’t touch her because it would end me.

  “Have you spent your whole life in the bayou?” she asked. She still wasn’t willing to look my way.

  “I grew up around here,” I said. “I caught my first fish not a mile from here. Shot my first nutria, too.”

  “Really?” She pulled her eyes, those big, innocent but not so innocent blues, to mine before looking away again.

  “Really.”

  “Did you have a big family?”

  “Not exactly. A brother and a sister. They don’t live around here anymore, though.”

  “What do you do for fun? I mean, aside from hang around crypts and get fireballs thrown at your head?”

  I laughed. It was good to feel my body relaxing, and I liked the way this conversation was going. “I like heading into town to hear music,” I said. “There’s plenty around here. Zydeco, jazz, blues, rock…you name it. Something for everybody.”

  She leaned back, which caused her blouse to pull open just a little more and made me want to get off my seat, tear her clothes off and take her right here, in the middle of the southern wilds. “I’ve been wanting to hear some good live music,” she said casually. Apparently she was unaware of my ravenous appetite. Or maybe she knew perfectly well what she was doing to me, straining the thin fabric of that top against those perfect breasts of hers so my eyes could trace the outline of her nipples. “Where’s a good place to go?” she asked.

  I swallowed, pulling my eyes away in the hopes of calming my raging dick. “Well, let’s see…there’s the Howling Wolf or the Saddle Bar. Of course, there’s Preservation Hall if you want to hear the popular jazz stuff…”

  Sierra leaned forward again, pulling my eyes her way again. Fuck. Cleavage. Fuck. “Listen,” she said, “I don’t know anyone around here except you. Would you ever want to go hear one of the local bands with me? I mean, not as a date, but as…I don’t know, my friend who definitely doesn’t have sex with me and just happens to be really good-looking?”

  I gawked at her like I was shocked. “Wait—you…you think I’m good-looking?” I asked in a teasing, high-pitched voice.

  She reached forward just enough to punch my arm. “Like you don’t know how hot you are,” she said. “Arrogant bastard.”

  “Ow!” I howled, grabbing my tricep where she’d whacked me. “But seriously, how hot am I? Like, on a scale of one to a thousand?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even start with me,” she said. “You’re already treading on thin ice with all your I can’t commit bullshit.”

  “Okay, fine, I won’t ask how hot I am, then. So…how handsome am I?”

  She punched me again.

  “How sexy am I?”

  Another hit, and we both laughed.

  “One last question,” I said.

  “What?” she asked with a skeptical narrowing of her eyes.

  “How badly do you want to kiss me right now?”

  This time, there was no punch. Sierra sat back, wrapping her hands around the edge of her seat. “That’s venturing outside of friends-only territory,” she said. “You’re stepping into the forbidden zone.”

  I stood up and edged towards her, rocking the boat with the motion. Sierra let out a little squeal and tried to steady herself in her seat.

  I sat down cross-legged
on the floor in front of her and stared, amused, as the boat gradually steadied.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “You don’t have to answer my question. Instead, I’ll tell you how badly I want to kiss you. Just, you know, for the record.”

  What am I doing? I thought. This sort of flirty shit is exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. Stupid man. Foolish jackass.

  Horny fucker.

  “Trick…” Sierra looked away, her jaw tensing. “You made it clear that you don’t want to go there…”

  “I don’t know anymore,” I said. “But tell me something. Why did you really come here, Sierra? Because the thing is, this place is pretty out of the way, and something tells me you’re not exactly into hanging out in gator-infested water. You came for more than just an apology, didn’t you?”

  She hesitated, then turned my way. Without a word, she reached out with both hands and slid her fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first second I looked at you,” she said, ignoring my question.

  “Why did you come here?” I asked again. “Tell me. I need to know.”

  “Because I didn’t think I could get through today if I didn’t,” she said, leaning forward to press her forehead to mine.

  Her touch did something to me—acted on my mind like a truth serum that stole away my inhibitions. “Well,” I murmured, “I’m glad you came, because I was feeling exactly the same way.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay?” I asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.

  She shrugged. “Maybe now that we’ve both said it, we can go our separate ways and feel okay about it.”

  “Yeah. Maybe we can.” I nodded, though I knew that if we said good-bye, tonight would be even harder than last night had been.

  The Trials were beginning in a few days. I might be dead by the end of the week. I had a sudden urge to live life to its fullest. Rules be damned.

  The only thing I cared about right now was how it would feel to make love to the woman who was sitting so close to me.