Romancing the Alpha: An Action-Adventure Romance Boxed Set

by Zoe York

  “No. Don’t do that,” he said.

  He cupped her face with his big hands, but still the tears fell, and Nola didn’t think they’d ever stop. Rough thumbs stroked along her cheeks, catching the tears as they rolled down her face.

  “Nola, it’s okay. I have you,” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

  “Y-you… It… I…” Nola tried and failed to speak around the gasping sobs that shook her frame even more.

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders, squeezed them, and held her gaze with his.

  “I’ll take care of you,” Cruz said.

  “Y-you…”

  “Nola!” he said.

  His stern voice shocked her into stillness, and when her eyes cleared, she took in the harsh set of his face, the resolve there. She focused on that, used it as the center that had escaped her when her rage fled.

  His blue eyes, so incongruously warm, held hers, and as she watched, she saw desire flare in them. Her body told her to move, but her mind made her stay still. She’d been so wrong about everything…surely this couldn’t be any different.

  Minutes ago, she’d been threatening him with violence. It was silly to think that he wanted her now, would want her ever. So no matter how much his eyes seemed to say different, Nola wouldn’t trust what she saw; she had gotten herself into enough trouble already.

  He moved his thumb across her cheek and then scraped her lips. His thumb was rough against her lips, and Nola was seized by the unshakable need to feel that roughness against her tongue. She parted her lips and pushed her tongue out, swiping it across the digit.

  The rasp against her tongue, the salty flavor that exploded across it sent a spike of desire through Nola that settled between her thighs. And with that single swipe, the rage, fear, disorientation of the days scattered, and all that was left was the boiling need that this man had set loose.

  She closed her lips around his thumb and sucked it inside her mouth, desperate for more of his taste and feel. As she swirled her tongue around it, she kept her gaze on his, watching as the warm blue of his eyes turned molten, saw the lines around his mouth deepen, his nostrils flare with his exhaled breath.

  Nola had never been this brazen, but the change she saw in him made her toss any reserve that remained into the wind. She sucked even harder, but then, with a low groan, Cruz pulled his thumb away, leaving her mouth empty.

  But not for long.

  Less than a second later, he covered her lips with his, his wet thumb against her cheek as he gripped her face. She felt the tension in his hold, the urgency, and the part of her that wasn’t completely consumed with the sensation of his warm, masculine lips against hers marveled at the fact that she’d inspired it in him.

  The kiss started hard, but then he eased off, moving from strong, possessive swipes to gentle, eating kisses. Nola heard a low moan and belatedly realized it was her own. She’d never heard that sound or one like it from herself, amazed one kiss from Cruz was enough to draw it.

  The next moan died in her throat when Cruz pushed his tongue into her mouth and brushed it against her own in strong, sure strokes. Seeking purchase, Nola grasped his shoulders, her fingers gripping the strong, bunched muscles. She needed more, so she moved closer, crushing her breasts against his strong chest, the vibration of his strong heartbeat echoing against her breastbone.

  Clenching her thighs tight in an effort to calm the insistent pulse that throbbed between them, Nola let her hands roam across Cruz’s broad back and down his tight flanks. She felt his lips curve against hers and smiled when he mirrored her movements, sliding his hands over her shoulders, down her sides. But unlike her, he didn’t rest his hands on her waist. Rather, he walked his fingers up the curved stomach to cup her breasts.

  She broke the kiss and panted out, thrusting her breasts out so that they filled his hands. His chuckled-out breath brushed her neck and left a wave of goose bumps along her sensitive skin. Her nipples puckered tight and pressed into his palms, and Nola twisted, moving her body so that her buds moved against him.

  A broken sigh fell from her, and Nola’s heart pounded ever harder. It had so many times before, but instead of fear, it now pounded with a desire that took her breath away.

  “Cruz…”

  The word was a question and a plea, one that he answered. He released her breasts and then reached for the hem of her shirt. At the first brush of his warm, rough hands against her hot skin, Nola arched against him and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his pants. She felt the crisp hair that covered his tight abs brush against her hands, but all focus and thought was lost when he unlatched the front clasp of her bra, exposing her breasts.

  The cool air of the room brushed her tight nipples, but Cruz chased away the chill with his hands, filling his palms with the heavy weight of her tits. The thumb that had been so rough against her tongue now rubbed her nipples. The calloused skin abraded in the most delicious way, and unbidden, another deep, throaty moan emerged from her. It was needy, desperate, and Nola didn’t care at all. In the face of the desire he’d stirred, nothing mattered beyond having more of him.

  But then his hands were gone, and Nola opened her eyes, ready to protest. Her gaze again met his, and she shivered anew, the intense hunger she saw there not allowing her to do anything else. But where Nola felt slow, clumsy with her desire, Cruz was fast, and moving with determined competence. He stepped far enough back to pull off his T-shirt, molten gaze glued to her.

  Nola stood, shirt hiked up, breasts and stomach exposed, but she felt no hint of embarrassment or nerves. The only thing she felt was the ever-increasing need as he exposed more of his strong, solid muscles wrapped in golden skin to her greedy eyes. As he tossed his shirt aside, his biceps flexed, and before she could stop herself, she lifted her hand and traced the rounded bulge and then let her fingers graze down his pec, over his flat nipple, down his ridged stomach.

  His muscles pulled tight as he lifted his arms and then pulled her shirt over her head and then slid her bra down her arms. Then, quick as a flash, he leaned forward. Nola had never felt as much pleasure in her life as she did in these few moments, but nothing compared to the sizzle that raced up her spine when Cruz closed his hot mouth over her nipple and latched down.

  He sucked at her flesh, and at the same time, he teased the puckered bud with his tongue and gently nipped at it with his teeth. The mix of sensations left Nola in a foggy haze and again she reached for him, her anchor in the maelstrom. As he sucked at her flesh, his kneaded her back with strong hands and then drifted lower, gripping the globes of her ass. Then he moved his hands, fingers brushing over each of her belt loops until he met in the middle.

  Nola, who’d been exploring his body with her hands, tracing and retracing every inch of his exposed skin, went still, need and anticipation twin surges in her blood. The pop of her button and soft snick of the zipper as he opened it filled her ears, and Nola, breath frozen in her chest, waited for the first touch of Cruz’s hand against her most intimate skin.

  He pushed her pants down, and they fell to the floor and landed with a soft thud. Then, after he traced her full hips with his rugged hands, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, two on each side. Nola squeezed his shoulders again and opened her thighs, and Cruz drew the thin panties down her thighs. She shivered as they fell and then again when he retraced the path back up.

  When he reached her center, his fingers brushed the thatch of curls that covered her mound. Then he went lower and cupped her, his hand so warm and rough against her delicate sex. The moisture that had pooled at her core spilled over, and Nola clenched her thighs tight, trapping his hand between them. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed them open again.

  Cruz lifted heavy-lidded eyes to meet hers, and as he did, he swiped one finger, then another across her slit, the motion smoothed by the cream that had seeped from her. Again and again he swiped, and with each move, her lower lips spread until she was fully open for him.

  “Touc
h me, Nola,” Cruz said, his voice deep with need.

  Nola knew what he wanted, and a spattering of the nerves that had been blissfully absent sprang up. But when she met his gaze again, they fled as quickly as they had appeared. She lifted her lips in a slight smile and let her fingers fall across the impressive hard-on that lay beneath his belt buckle.

  She touched him now as she’d imagined doing on the shuttle, his ridged flesh against her palm, the fiery desire in his eyes making her bold. And as she touched and explored him, he did the same, swirling his fingers over her wet sex and her hard clit. Her breath came in heavy pants and tension coiled in her belly.

  Urgency made Nola’s movements jerky and uncoordinated, but she managed to open his pants and free his hardness. At the first sight of Cruz’s beautiful male flesh, Nola felt heat rush across her skin. He was masculine perfection, his cock long, thick and heavily veined, the helmeted head slick with his desire.

  Her throat went dry as she imagined that hardness spreading her flesh, filling her more than she ever had been before. Cruz pulled his hand away and in two fluid movements kicked away his pants and lifted Nola out of hers. Before she could process what was happening, Cruz had grasped her wrist and led her down the narrow hallway into the small bedroom.

  After they entered the room, Cruz stood in front of her, eyes full of promise. Then, with one corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, he sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning her with his eyes, his stiff rod bobbing in front of him. Still caught in the mesmerizing moment, Nola crossed to him and then straddled his waist, one knee on either side of him.

  At the first brush of his cock against her pussy, Nola cried out. He lifted his hips, and his hard, wet tip hit her clit. Of their own volition, her hips rolled, and she moaned at the amazing sensation that ricocheted through her.

  “Nola,” Cruz said as he traced his fingers down her breasts and over her stomach.

  He let his hand settle between their bodies, and she watched avidly as he gripped his cock and rubbed it up and down her slit. On the last pass, he stopped, his crown nestled between her lips. As he lifted his gaze to hers, he released his hold and stared up at her, his message clear. This would only go as far as she would take it.

  And for one of the few times in her life, Nola seized the moment.

  She looped her hand around the base of his thick cock, and without breaking eye contact, she lowered her hips as she fed him inside.

  The feeling of him opening her, filling her inch by inch, was one of the most glorious she’d ever felt.

  Her hand was the only thing separating them, so she released him and lowered herself the final few inches, both of them crying out when they were fully connected. His hardness pulsed inside her, and Cruz gripped her hips in an almost punishing hold. But despite the urgency she felt in his grip, he didn’t thrust up, ceding control to her.

  Nola rocked tentatively as a shock wave of pleasure reverberated through her. She moved a little faster and the pleasure increased along with Cruz’s hold. But still, he didn’t take over, and Nola reveled in the powerful man under her. The tension built, radiating out from where she and Cruz were connected and through her body.

  Cruz loosened his hold on her hips and traced his hands up her waist, fingers ghosting over her sweat-slicked skin in an irregular pattern that made Nola quake.

  Her eyes drifted shut in the face of the intense waves of pleasure that shot through her. She sped, lifting off and then settling on Cruz’s stiff dick over and over and over. On the last rotation, she settled on Cruz, his hardness pulsing inside her. Her body was strung tight, and when she shifted, the tension that had tightened inside her snapped.

  Bursts of intense sensation coiled through her body, and her pleasure only intensified when Cruz went stiff beneath her and then, on a harsh moan, spilled his seed deep in her body. Nola gripped him tight, held him close as she rode the whirlwind of sensations that raced through her.

  When some of her senses returned, she realized Cruz had shifted them and now lie atop her, his cock still inside her. He held her gaze with his, eyes warm, slightly crowded with pleasure. And behind it, determination.

  And as he kissed her, Nola knew, for reasons she couldn’t explain but nonetheless believed with all her heart, that she could trust him to keep her safe.

  — TWELVE —

  Cruz watched Nola as she slept, wishing that he could leave her that way, peaceful, unmarked by the chaos around them.

  But he had to wake her, so he did so with a kiss, letting his lips trail across her soft, slightly salty cheek and then capturing her mouth with his. She came awake under his touch, eyes still sealed, but her lips opening under his, her hands moving up to grip his arms. The urge to take her again rode at him, and it was only with a feat of will that he was able to pull away.

  “The guys are here,” he said when he broke the embrace. “We need to move.”

  She nodded, stood, lifting her arm to cover her breasts, and after a shy glance at him, dressed quickly. And for the first time, Cruz had no idea what she was thinking. He’d seen her fear as they’d run, seen her passion as he’d touched her, moved inside her, but now, save that little smile, he had no idea.

  Was she regretting sleeping with him? He hoped not, but he’d understand if she did. She was sweet, sheltered, that was clear, and not the type of woman who’d be with him.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, alert for any unwelcome visitors. When they exited the building, he spotted reinforcements and he moved quickly toward the idling Range Rover and hopped in. Before the door was fully closed, Ace sped off and they were on their way.

  Ace looked at them in the rearview mirror, eyes knowing. Cruz wondered how his old friend had so quickly ferreted out what had happened. Maybe it was the way he’d pulled her close so that there wasn’t a millimeter of space between them or the way he had his arm looped around her shoulder. But he supposed it didn’t matter. Whatever Ace saw, he simply smirked and then turned his eyes back to the road, now all business.

  “We good?” Cruz asked.

  “So far. You didn’t have anyone on the building, and my contacts say that whatever this is, it isn’t officially sanctioned. They’re investigating the hotel as a robbery gone wrong, but it’s very hush-hush, so they won’t be coming at this full force, at least in any public way.”

  That was a relief. Dealing with criminals was one thing; adding the government brought another layer of complication—and danger—that Cruz could do without.

  “Anything on the file?” Cruz asked.

  “Sam’s still on it. Hopefully, he’ll have something once we get to the location.”

  “You okay, Nola?” Cruz asked.

  Without looking at him, she nodded, and they rode the rest of the way in silence, leaving the bustling city center for another of the quiet suburbs that had sprung up around Ho Chi Minh City proper.

  When they arrived, they found Sam, face buried in his cluster of computers, typing furiously.

  “What have you found?” Cruz asked.

  Sam glanced up and slid his gaze from Nola to Cruz, his message clear. Ace said nothing, silently deferring to Cruz on the matter.

  And for the first time since they’d left the apartment, she spoke. “I need to know everything,” she said quietly but firmly.

  Instinct told him to resist, but he relented. It wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark.

  He nodded curtly, and Sam began.

  “I cracked the encryption, and here’s what I’ve discovered,” he said, swirling one of the monitors to face the group.

  “What the fuck?” Ace said.

  As Sam clicked, image after image filled the screen. Central Park. The Statue of Liberty. Coney Island. Times Square.

  “Vacation pictures? What the hell is this, Sam?” Cruz said, frustration filling his voice.

  “Looks like someone had a great visit to the Big Apple,” Sam said as he continued to click through the c
olorful photos.

  “Wait!” Nola yelled.

  ••••

  Six eyes hit her all at once, but Nola focused on Cruz’s. They were bright with question, and a sense of embarrassment stole over her at her loud exclamation.

  “Sorry,” she said, lowering her voice. It was probably nothing anyway; she should have kept quiet.

  “What did you see, Nola?” Cruz asked, crossing over to her. He didn’t touch her, though.

  “Nothing,” she said, the embarrassment now tinged with uncertainty.

  “It’s something. What?”

  As he watched her, a tingling warmth sparked inside, and she couldn’t stop the memory of the way he’d touched her, how his powerful body had felt above her as he’d thrust, taken her to heights she hadn’t thought possible. The slight shift in his expression, the way his eyes turned liquid, told her he felt it as well. And behind that liquid heat, she saw his confidence in her.

  Nola didn’t know why, but she believed his confidence in her more than she’d ever believed herself, allowed herself to trust that voice in her head that bade her speak.

  “It’s just…” She approached the screen. “May I?” she asked Sam, who lifted his hands from the keyboard.

  She clicked through the images, wanting to make sure she’d seen what she’d thought.

  “These are very pretty, but is there a point?” Ace interjected.

  “Here,” Nola said, pointing at the top right corner of the screen. She clicked through the photos. “Do you see it? That distortion.”

  “I saw it, but I figured it was an issue with the camera. You think differently?” Sam asked. He sounded open, curious, but Nola thought she detected a faint whiff of annoyance.

  “I think…” Nola started off quiet but when she looked at Cruz, again seeing his confidence, she started again, louder. “I think there’s something embedded in the images.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped, and his eyes narrowed with excitement.

  “See,” Nola said, copying the image and then pasting it into a new document. A series of numbers popped up on the page.