Five Alarm Alphas

by Leah Braemel, Lexxie Couper, Delilah Devlin, Marie Harte, Desiree Holt, Lissa Matthews, Cari Quinn, Shelli Stevens

  “Blake, Blake…” She peeled upward from the table.

  For a woman who insisted she was more of a main event kind of girl, she was certainly enjoying the moment. But maybe they both felt the strain of too many weeks' abstinence. She sobbed and sank down again.

  He kissed her sex and rubbed his cheek on her ass, listening to his whiskers rasp while he pulled himself together. He’d give her what he’d promised. Uncomplicated sex. Now wasn’t the time to press for more.

  When his game face was back in place, he let go of her hands and tugged her to the carpet, helping her straddle his bent thighs. Face to face proved a little too intimate, because neither could meet the other’s eyes.

  But that was all right with Blake. She was sliding down his aching cock. Doing a little bounce to work his length inside. He gripped her hips to hold her in place while he raised his a couple of inches to deepen the penetration. Lord, he was home. Balls deep. The sensation was fucking heaven.

  Gratitude swelled along with his cock. He kissed her cheek, her shoulder, leaned her back so he could kiss her tits. Her beautiful, great big tits. He opened his mouth and tried to swallow one, knowing it was futile, but he’d never tire of trying. Not when she wriggled and bounced and made such a lovely racket.

  She gripped his hair and pulled. Not a teasing tug, either. She’d yanked out some hairs, including precious follicles.

  “Yeah, baby,” he said, releasing her breast and gathering her butt in his palms. He pushed her off him, then shot upward while pulling her hips into his. He could get off like this, fucking her on his cock, fucking himself, using her to pleasure himself…

  Again, she pulled his hair. “It’s the doorbell, you idiot,” she whispered harshly.

  Blake froze. “Swear, it’ll only take a minute.”

  “They’ll hear.”

  Blake gritted his teeth, his body tightening with rejection of the idea of halting now. “If they don’t want to hear, they can leave.”

  “It might be important.”

  “This is important.” But he slid his hands away from her hips, giving her the choice.

  Which she made the moment she gripped his shoulders and pushed up. She dragged the linen cloth from the table and wrapped it around her body before making her way to the door.

  He watched, bemused. Did she think that was better? Arriving sweaty at the door, a tablecloth knotted over her breasts, whisker burn reddening her neck and shoulder?

  Sherry bent at the waist and shook her head, then straightened and quickly finger-combed her messy red hair before turning the knob. She leaned around the doorway, trying to hide her body, cutting off the view of him still kneeling on the floor, his cock sprung between his legs.

  “Martha?” she said, her voice rising with surprise.

  “Madam Mayor, I thought I’d drop off the talking points you’ll need when you meet with the Medi-Family administrator.”

  “That wasn’t necessary,” Sherry said, sounding breathless.

  “It was no problem.”

  Martha must have tried to step through the door because Sherry moved into the opening to block her. “I’ll take those. I still have to shower. Had my morning run.” With one hand on the knob, she reached for the papers Martha shoved toward her.

  Another voice trilled a hello through the doorway. Mrs. Hunsucker from across the way. The old biddy was a gossip. Likely knew exactly what Martha had interrupted.

  “Hi there, Bunny,” Sherry said, waving a hand. The moment she lifted her arm, the tablecloth dropped to the floor.

  “Shit.” Sherry slammed the door.

  Blake laughed. “Be glad Bart wasn’t with Bunny.”

  She groaned. “He was right beside her. Must have been out golfing first thing.”

  “You might want to move away from the window, too. Bart will be angling to get another look.”

  Sherry turned to aim a glare over her shoulder.

  He straightened, knowing she was going to let him have it. Not because he was at fault for what had just happened, but because she blamed him for her lack of self control.

  But she surprised him. The corners of her mouth were tipped upward as she bore down on him. “I’ve already missed my doughnut. I’m not losing my orgasm, too.”

  “Amen,” he muttered as she spread her legs over him and settled downward, enveloping his cock in her slick, hot vagina. Blake couldn’t worry about her secretary or the Peeping Tom neighbor. He had Sherry in his arms.

  It was as though they’d never been interrupted. They rocketed higher, pushing together, pulling apart, their glides strong and jarring. Blake loved the sounds she made. Soft hisses, feminine grunts. She’d have scoffed that he considered them sexy at all, so he never mentioned them, simply smiled, gritted his teeth and pushed her harder up and down his cock.

  At last, they both reached the sweet pinnacle—her with an ear-piercing scream, her head flung back, her stubborn jaw more pronounced by the stretch of her white throat. Him with a shout muffled against the top of one soft breast. A perfect moment.

  Another knock sounded at the door, and they both held their breath. She brought up her head. “I better….”

  Blake pressed another kiss against her shoulder. “Go get your shower. I’ll handle it.” Nothing could have surprised him more when she gave him a nod and rose quietly, taking up the tablecloth again before scurrying up the stairs.

  He didn’t have a tablecloth, and if Martha thought she could come between a man and his wife enjoying what came natural, she had another think coming.

  He swung open the door, and stood there, his mouth dropping a bit, because the person wasn’t Martha on the other side of the door.

  Chapter Three

  “It wasn’t that funny.”

  Josh Penske hadn’t stopped chuckling since Blake swung open his front door, naked as the day he’d been born. He’d nearly swallowed the toothpick he’d been chewing on. After Blake cussed and slammed the door, they’d agreed, shouting through the oak, to meet in twenty at the firehouse. Now, they stood in the drive beside the station’s open bay.

  “Who you tryin’ to convince? Should have seen Bunny’s face. She’s gonna spend a month of Sundays at confession.”

  “Thought it was that battle-axe, Martha,” Blake muttered.

  “So, you were gonna flash Martha? What if she’d wanted to press charges for indecent exposure?”

  “It’s not indecent if it’s my house. And she’d already interrupted us once.”

  Josh crossed his arms over his burly chest and his gaze held steady with Blake’s. “So, does this mean…”

  Blake shook his head. “No. We wanted to test drive a friends-with-benefits arrangement.”

  “And how’d that work out?”

  “A freaking disaster. She flashed her secretary and Bart; I flashed you.”

  Josh waggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like grounds to hold you both overnight.”

  “Now, sheriff…” Blake growled.

  Josh stood looking at him like he was only half-kidding. He’d been his best man, and now stood witness to the disintegration of his marriage.

  “Wouldn’t help any, buddy,” Blake said quietly.

  “Sorry to hear that.” Josh sighed, then cleared his throat. “I did have a reason to stop in. Saw your car. Arnold Breyer said he’d set up his grill for the barbeque at the wet down. No charge. He’ll also kick in the meat. Says it’s his contribution, seein’ as how you’ve had to come out twice to put out a fire in his smokehouse. He just needs a date.”

  “The mayor still hasn’t given her approval.”

  Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “Think she won’t? Are you gonna have to give her some more benefits to warm her up to the idea?”

  Blake narrowed his eyes to kill the smirk curving his friend’s mouth, but he’d been thinking the same thing. A savvy politician might be into getting a little quid pro quo.

  Josh chuckled. “Just keep it covered up.”

  Blake gave Josh a two-finger
ed salute as he headed to his patrol car. Then he glanced up at the mayor’s window across the street. Not that he expected to see her there. But the blinds were raised. Did it mean something? Was it code for I’m-okay-seeing-you-again? Because he could attest to the fact that seeing them flipped closed felt like the iciest of cold shoulders.

  “Hey, chief,” Benny said, coming toward him, his tee shirt slipping from the waistband of his pants.

  Blake made a mental note to invite Benny to join him in the weight room. Benny had been injured a year ago, which had sidelined him, but he’d never get better if he continued to pack on the pounds. “What do you need, Benny?”

  “The Masons’ wives wanna bring pies. Need to know how many.”

  Blake rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. Party planning used to be Sherry’s purview. He wondered if she was happy enough with him now to resume that particular duty. He shook his head. Too soon. However inconvenient, he’d have to do this on his own. With Benny. “Let’s make a list of who might come, and then multiply it by ten. Don’t wanna run out of pie.”

  Sherry leaned back against her leather headrest, mildly tired, but sublimely relaxed. Sex had done this to her. Taken off her edge. Made her happy. She knew she ought to resent the hell out of Blake for making falling back into his arms so easy but she couldn’t muster the outrage.

  A soft knock sounded on her door.

  Martha entered without waiting for her to respond. “Looks like you’re free until this evening. Want me to bring you those requests for the hearing? Need to read through them before the next city council meeting.”

  “Back up,” Sherry said, irritation leeching away a little of her happy lethargy. “What’s that about tonight?”

  “You’re having dinner with that reporter.” Martha frowned as she squinted at her notepad. “Lois Freely.”

  “It’s tonight?” So soon? Thoughts of the other woman and her slide down her husband’s pole made her left eye twitch.

  “You’ll start with drinks at the country club. Lois said she’d pick up the tab, so bring an appetite.”

  “Sounds just yummy,” Sherry said, then wondered what Blake would think about her meeting with Lois—and whether he’d had plans to drop by tonight—by accident, of course—to see if she needed any benefits.

  “She’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Pick me up? Why aren’t we meeting there?”

  “Maybe she’ll be your designated driver?” Martha shrugged her hefty shoulders. “Might have heard a thing or two about you.”

  Sherry gave Martha a narrow-eyed glare.

  Martha’s mouth pressed into a narrow line. “Right. I’ll go make some coffee.”

  “You do that,” Sherry said, thumping her papers on her desktop then twisting in her wide executive chair, trying to get comfortable. Not that the chair wasn’t well-cushioned. She was just suddenly restless. All those warm, hopeful feelings she’d felt after making love with Blake had dissipated. Again, she felt…itchy. Like she needed to call Blake and talk about how she felt about meeting with Lois tonight, like she used to whenever she was afraid she’d say the wrong thing or blow up at the wrong time.

  But she couldn’t. Blake was the reason she was meeting with Lois—not just because she was jealous of his pole, but because he’d lost a little of her trust when he’d allowed that other woman to show him her panties, and he couldn’t see the problem.

  Blake was supposed to get her. He was the only person she’d always relied on to understand exactly what she was feeling. He was her sounding board when she wanted to rant or cry. He knew exactly what to say to make her relax or know when to turn on the charm when she needed some major distraction.

  She missed talking to him. Even about little things. Like why he’d thought it necessary to mention that Lois’s panties were pink.

  Sherry sniffed and reached for a tissue, then curled her fingers. She wasn’t going to cry. Her tears were all dried up. Her eyeballs could turn into raisins before she cried again. Besides, Blake didn’t deserve her tears.

  She pushed up from her seat and walked to the window. She’d raised the blinds high when she’d come into her office, willing to signal him she was open—for talking, for lovemaking. Staring across the street at the open bay, she watched as his men laid out hoses. They were filling them with water to check for leaks. He was nowhere to be seen. Her hand went to the blinds pull, she was ready to drop them again, close them up. But what was the point if he wasn’t there to see her do it?

  Well, she had a job to do. A request to consider. She wondered if he’d flip a lid when he found out the date she’d decided for the wet down. He’d probably need her help to be ready in time. Might stomp over to her office and slam the door behind him, and then all hell would break loose.

  She gave a little whimper and then glanced around to make sure no one else had heard it. So, maybe her fantasy was exaggerated, but only a little bit. He would be furious. And she loved the way he looked when he went postal—veins popping on his forehead, gaze heated and narrowed.

  While his anger had never fueled him to hurt, the hot emotion did fuel him to punish her in other ways. Damn, she wished she could be a fly on the wall when he found out.

  “This fucking Saturday? Are you out of your mind?”

  He’d waited until she arrived home. She’d just gotten the mail from the box, just opened the door and kicked away her shoes. The moment he ground his words out beside her, making her jump and squeal, he stepped out of the kitchen. She wondered why she hadn’t changed the locks on that particular door. “Don’t have time for this,” she said. “I have dinner plans.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. “Break them.”

  “Can’t,” she said, lifting her chin. “You only have three days, and you need all the help you can get with the advertising. Let’s just say I’m doing my part.”

  “I’ll need more help than that.”

  “You’re a big boy. You’ll figure it out.”

  “I have a job to do. I don’t have time to figure out who to contact at the schools, how to light a fire under the Chamber of Commerce—”

  “Think I don’t have work to do? That I spend my time twiddling my thumbs?”

  “I think you spend too much time staring out your window at me, trying to figure out ways to make me miserable.”

  It stung, the look on his face—mouth and nose screwed together in disgust. He had a right to his feelings. She’d set the date out of spite, knowing he’d have to jump through hoops to get everything arranged in time.

  So, rather than answering him in kind, which no doubt he expected, because every time their anger escalated, she wound up letting her Irish temper get the best of her, she took a deep breath. “You’re right. Not about the standing in the window thinking of ways to make you miserable. But you do need help. I’ll help you. I’ll set Martha on contacting schools, churches, the Kiwanis, the Chamber…she’ll get out the word. I’ll put together the flyer. But we’ll need to get together first thing in the morning to figure out how much to charge. Look at your expenses.”

  “Benny’s already on that.” He raked a hand through his hair and then shoved his hands on his hips. “Sorry, I blew up on you. And I shouldn’t have used my key.”

  “Why not?” she said softly. “Seems it still works.”

  His gaze darted to her eyes and held.

  “Seeing as we have this project,” she said, waving a hand, “we’ll probably have to meet the next couple of nights to iron out the details.”

  “Yeah. Details. You still going to dinner?”

  She was tempted to tell him she’d cancel her plans. That they’d order something to be delivered, but she still wanted to meet with Lois. Make sure she understood that while Blake wasn’t living under her roof, their marriage was far from over. Not just yet anyway. “I…can’t cancel,” she said.

  His gaze gleamed green. But he gave a grunt. “Guess I’ll catch you in the mor
ning. Planning on running?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  She guessed she had to now, if only to make sure he offered her another ride. She nodded.

  He let himself out the door, leaving much more quietly than he’d arrived.

  Then, she sank onto the nearest seat. When had she decided to fight for him? After he’d made love to her like a starving man? Or when he’d stood there, looking so angry but still managing to hold it together. She was lucky to have him. Who the hell else would put up with her? She smiled. They’d both be in each other’s pockets for the next few days. He needed her help, and she needed to make amends.

  She glanced at her watch, and then reluctantly pushed off her chair. She had forty-five minutes to bolster her confidence. Show that sweet young thing why Blake had chosen her in the first place. She hoped like hell her Spanx weren’t in the laundry hamper.

  Blake pulled his truck into a space a couple of rows down from Lois Freely’s little Mazda, still wondering what the hell was going on. Sherry’s dinner date was with Lois? Didn’t she know? Or maybe Sherry did, because she was wearing that sexy little black dress that hugged every curve. No wonder Lois insisted that Sherry precede her into the club.

  He turned off his ignition and gave them time to be seated by the hostess before he got out of his vehicle. He wasn’t sure what impulse had guided him to stalk his wife, but he was good and curious to see what happened next. Lois was the reason his marriage was rocky. Was Sherry planning to poison her at dinner?

  Blake smirked at the thought. Sherry was mostly all bluster. Blew hot, then went all soft with remorse. He was still waiting for that to happen. Had hoped their little tryst that morning was the start of the thaw, but dinner with Lois… He shook his head. Was she deliberately shoring up her resolve by staring the younger woman in the face?

  Tawny Smothers was the hostess tonight, and Blake winced. Tawny was a huge gossip. Her gaze widened on Blake, then scanned the dining room behind her. “Are you joining your w—the mayor?”