Alpha Contender Boxed Set: BWWM Paranormal shifter romance BBW

by Terry Bolryder

Fifi tilts his head at me and I bite my lip. I don’t know why I’m promising that when I can’t cook for shit, but I want to do something for Lindon after everything he’s done for me.

  And as a peace offering for accidentally pressing that button and nearly giving him a heart attack.

  I can’t help feeling a bit flattered that he could feel that worried, just for me. Between that and our kiss, I can’t help thinking there is something between us.

  And I mean to explore it. Why not? I have all the time in the world.

  “Ah,” Lindon says, rubbing his neck and looking from me to Hawes to Fifi. “Well, if you’ve got things then…”

  “We do,” I say, putting an arm around Fifi’s waist. Fifi looks down at me, one lavender eyebrow cocked, and then gives me a knowing smile. Like he’s getting a joke I’m not in on.

  “Now get,” Hawes says, swatting Lindon’s butt when he finally turns to go up the stairs.

  A sharp golden glare turns on us all as Lindon rises to his full, intimidating height. He may be a pretty boy, but he’s scary when he’s angry.

  “Who did that?”

  Hawes grins, showing that scampy fang. “Who do you think, perv?”

  Lindon shakes his head. “Says the man swatting another man’s butt. You need to get back to your mate.”

  “I intend to,” Hawes says. Then he lowers his voice. “As soon as you come to your senses and see what’s in front of you.”

  “What?” Lindon says, turning around again. “What was that last part?” His golden gaze narrows. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

  But I get the distinct feeling he did, and it pissed him off. I grab Fifi and tug on Hawes’ shirt. “Okay, lets get going,” I say. “Let grumpypants get some rest.”

  Lindon stops again, nearly all the way up the stairs now. But I guess he decides to let my comment slide. He stomps the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room, where I hear a lock click.

  “What was that all about?” Jack asks, walking over to us. He’s wearing a loose gray hoodie over a thin tee shirt and sweats underneath.

  “Nothing, we’re just going to make him some breakfast.”

  Jack rubs his hair in the back and nods. “Yeah, I feel sort of bad for the guy. I imagine it’s stressful.” He grins at me. I love the way his jaw sharpens when he grins. “I mean, not bad enough to give up a chance at winning you, but bad.” He chucks me gently under the chin as Hawes and Fifi watch open-mouthed and then goes past me toward the hall.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “Downstairs. I saw a basketball court down past the gym.”

  “Ah, sure,” I say.

  He grins again and I let him go and turn back to the kitchen. When we walk in, we see Bradley, standing at the counter by the sink, drying off a newly washed dish.

  “Isn’t there a dishwasher?” I ask.

  “Yes, but I like washing dishes. Calms me,” he says. In the sun from the open window, his light brown hair catches glints of gold and red, and his smooth, young looking skin is almost luminous. He smiles at me and throws the dish towel over his shoulder to put a hand out for me to shake.

  I take it, and he pulls me in for a hug. “I feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten any time with you.”

  I blink. I guess he’s right. I haven’t given much thought to Bradley. There are just so many more charactery characters running around that he kind of blends in.

  But his hug is soft and nice, smells of powdered sugar and cinnamon.

  “What did you make?” I ask, pulling back.

  “Pancakes,” he says, licking a bit of sugar off his finger as he pulls back. “And a few other things. I meant them for you but the brutes around here just scarfed them down.”

  Fifi gives me a devious smirk and I think I know where a good deal of Bradley’s baked goods went.

  “Where is everyone else?” I ask.

  “I think the brothers are working out downstairs. Thor is up in his room. I think I saw Lock go up there too. Lindon’s in the shower. Matt’s probably moping around somewhere. Fifi was here, being an assistant.” Bradley blushes slightly at that, giving Fifi a look over his shoulder. I don’t get the idea that he’s actually attracted to him, but with Fifi, it’s hard not to look at him and just wonder why the hell he’s so beautiful.

  Fifi nods. “I gave valuable tasting feedback.”

  “I’ll just bet you did,” Hawes says, laughing. He sits down at the table in the kitchen and rests his cheek on one tanned hand.

  “You miss your mate?” I ask.

  Hawes nods. “Of course. But family stuff is important too.”

  “I don’t know why Rowan is going so far for me.”

  “I guess only Rowan knows that,” he says. “But a Pack’s Promise is an important thing.”

  Bradley nods. “Did I hear you guys offer Lindon breakfast? Do you want me to help you cook something?”

  We all blink at each other.

  “Do any of you know how to cook?” Bradley asks, folding his arms and standing with one hip cocked. Kind of looking like an ex boy band member in an apron.

  I meet his eyes and notice they are a pale, clear blue. Like the sky on a sunny day. And he has a few freckles over his high cheekbones.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to speak for you. I’ll figure out something,” I say.

  Bradley puts a hand around my shoulder. “No problem. As I said, we haven’t had a lot of time together, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

  He gives a slow look over his shoulder at Fifi and Hawes, who are sitting there staring. “Are you guys…staying?”

  The way he says ‘staying’ seems to suggest they shouldn’t. Hawes looks at me for confirmation he can go, and I nod. He and Fifi move into the living room and turn on the TV, talking amongst themselves.

  After all, if Lindon knew Fifi growing up, Hawes probably did too.

  Bradley pulls me over to the kitchen and grabs an apron from where it’s hanging on the hook. I reach for it, but instead of handing it to me, he loops it over my head and then reaches around me to tie it at my waist.

  All the background noise seems to fade out as he does it, as his deft fingers brush my curves, as he looks down at me, blush deepening, eyes on my lips. The he finishes tying it and turns away, flustered.

  “So, what are we making?” I ask.

  “How about crepes?” he says, pulling a book down and flipping through it.

  “Sounds good.”

  “It’s easy,” he says, flitting about the kitchen, grabbing bowls and ingredients. I lean one hip against the counter and watch him.

  I can’t help but notice that he’s quite built. It’s just not something you see when you first look at him. He’s a little shyer than the others. But when he reaches up for something on a shelf, tight triceps bulge and move, and when he turns on water in the sink and tests the temperature, I can’t help but notice that he has really nice hands. Long, well shaped fingers with great nails, tapered wrists and long, muscled forearms, leading to impressively large biceps that disappear under his fitted tee shirt.

  Damn, Rowan wasn’t kidding about shifter men.

  “So,” I say, “Tell me about your family.”

  Bradley pulls all of the ingredients together and sets them on the table in one large armful. Then he brings over the bowls. “Not much to say. Normal, good family. Nothing flashy like Lindon’s. But let me get you started on this. After all, you did say that you would handle Lindon’s breakfast. Somehow I don’t think he’d find it as delicious if it was cooked by me.”

  “Aren’t you competing against him?” I ask, baffled by his sweetness. Especially after the other day when he seemed irritated with Lindon.

  “Well, I was taken aback the other day, but then I realized I can’t compete with these guys.”

  I cock my head, considering that.

  “No, no.” He waves a hand. “I mean, not like a typical alpha male. I’m not going to fight everyone and beat my chest. But I can s
how you who I am. I’m a nice guy, Misty. If you want someone nice, someone to wake you up with breakfast in bed, I can do that.”

  “Nice, huh?” I eye him carefully.

  “Nice,” he affirms, opening an egg carton. “So yeah, that’s me. I mean, that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a screaming orgasm as well as the next man, but I’m not going to punch other people for the right to do so.”

  “Ah, so you aren’t very protective then?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I can punch people when I need to. But I don’t think it’s a good way to prove yourself to a woman.”

  I agree logically, but I can’t help thinking it’s hot when men fight over you. I mean, you’d have to think that in order to come to this mansion and agree to what I agreed to in the first place.

  “But if you were my mate, or someone tried to force you, I would definitely not be nice, Misty. Nice doesn’t mean weak,” he says quietly.

  As Bradley helps me crack eggs into a bowl and explains the next steps, gently guiding my hands with his large, capable ones, I can’t help but feel his hard abs graze against me.

  His scent isn’t powdered sugar. That was just the scent in the kitchen. No, his scent is a bitter, earthy jasmine. Erotic but in a subtle way. I could stay here and cook and joke with him and smell it forever.

  He’s…comfortable.

  Like a warm, well worn in sweater. But handsome. And built.

  “Alright,” he says. “Let’s get out the griddle.”

  He shows me how the pour and cook the crepes and I try not to stare at his arms and back flexing as he works. When he picks up my hand to help me gently scrape a crepe off the griddle, I gasp at the touch. It’s like a static shock, like my friendliness with Bradley has finally reached the breaking point and turned into attraction, and he’s been close for too long.

  He releases my hand and takes a half step back. “Sorry,” he says, a light flush on his cheeks, hiding his few freckles.

  “It’s fine,” I say lightly, listening to the pounding of my heart. Why do all of them affect me like this? Why does my wolf seem somewhat out of control? Why can I start to feel her talking, howling to me, sometimes. Especially when I’m near a male.

  And why do I call them males now?

  I rub a hand through my hair and sigh.

  “Hey now, no hair on the food,” Bradley says. “Lindon strikes me as the type that would send that back to the kitchen, insults to the chef.”

  I nod, laughing a little, and thinking that maybe it’d be good to go out and let my wolf run for a little while.

  Bradley and I finish cooking the crepes, and I listen to him make small talk as he gets a box of strawberries and begins to cut them. I take some and start cutting as well, but I’m not nearly as good at it, and in only a few seconds, I manage to cut myself.

  “Ouch!” I say, bringing it to my mouth instinctively.

  “Let me see,” he says, as Hawes and Fifi look in from the living room. He waves them off.

  “Ah, just a tiny cut.” He reaches for a box above the fridge and pulls down a first aid kit. “Sit down.”

  I do, and he kneels in front of me, sorting through the small box.

  “Wow, you already know where everything is.”

  “Lindon showed us around. I have a good memory.”

  I’ll say. He rubs an antibacterial on the small cut on the side of my pinky and then smooths a bandaid over it. Then he brings it up in front of his face and studies it with those gorgeous blue eyes. He has long lashes, maybe the longest in the house, next to Lindon’s, and they are lush and black, unlike his light brownish red hair.

  His eyes raise to mine and he places a soft kiss on my finger, and I hold my breath as heat builds between us. A slow, comfortable kind of heat. Like the kind you have with a best friend that you develop a crush on.

  Like kissing the nice guy at school, the geek who has always been kind to you when the others were jerks.

  He gets on one knee and is nearly level with my face. His lips tighten as his eyes drop to my mouth, and I know if I don’t move, he’s going to kiss me.

  Do I want to?

  Well, I guess I’ve learned something about all of the alphas when kissing them. Might as well get to know Bradley.

  I lean forward, and his nose bumps mine. He laughs quietly, then tilts my chin and adjusts and comes the rest of the way in, joining our lips together at an angle that fits just right.

  For a second he just holds me there, warm and safe. A smell that’s bitter and floral, yet masculine.

  I can tell everything that is different about Bradley. He’s not like the others. Calmer, subtler. But as his tongue makes a gentle entrance into my mouth and a smooth sweep along my gums that sets my nerves on fire and has me clutching his broad shoulders with my hands, I definitely don’t feel calm at all. He stands and pulls me to standing, keeping my lips locked with his, cradling the back of my head and bringing me closer and then wrapping both hands around my waist.

  He reaches for a strawberry and brings it up to my mouth, popping it in and running his hand along my side. I can’t even feel self conscious about my love handles and the way he’s feeling them when he’s watching me with heat in those blue eyes as I devour the juicy treat. He catches a little juice at the corner of my lips and then takes my mouth again, sweeping and searching and licking as I open to him.

  A kiss that tastes like strawberries.

  And feels like a lazy summer day by a lake.

  I sigh deeply and he pulls back, scanning my overwhelmed face until he’s satisfied that he’s made an impression. Then he sucks a bit of strawberry juice off his thumb and gives me a heated glare.

  “Delicious,” he says, voice soft, eyes looking like a deep, tropical sea of pure, clear blue.

  Oh, holy shit.

  I take a step back and bump into the counter, and he grins. “Well, I better go deliver Lindon his breakfast,” I say carefully, putting crepes on a plate with strawberries and grabbing a can of whipped cream that Bradley pulled from the fridge.

  “Yes, I guess you’d better.” He gives me a side hug and I flush. It’s so opposite of what we were just doing.

  Hawes winks at me from the living room. Fifi looks jealous. Of whom, I’m not sure. But jealous.

  “I’ll take one of those,” Fifi says.

  “From whom?” I ask.

  “The crepes,” he says, frowning. “What did you think?” He eyes them intently and turns on Bradley with a pouting expression.

  Bradley laughs. “Alright then, no need to act like a lost puppy. Come get some and distract me while Misty goes up to the young master.”

  “Young master?” I ask, hearing the bitterness in Bradley’s voice. I haven’t heard anyone refer to a young master that wasn’t a butler in an old timey movie or something. So I assume he’s referring to what he perceives as Lindon’s spoiledness. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” he says. Then I realize he didn’t tell me anything about his family. Was that on purpose, or did he just forget?

  Anyway, the plate is warm in my hands and I need to get it up to Lindon.

  “Thanks again, Bradley. Let’s do this again sometime.”

  He licks his lips slowly and folds his arms. “Yes, let’s.”

  Damnit!

  That’s not what I meant and he knows it. But yes, I wouldn’t mind doing that again, I think as I carry Lindon’s food carefully up the stairs.

  Chapter 6

  “Why do you look so moony?” Lindon asks, watching me with narrowed eyes as I set out crepes for us on two plates.

  “No reason,” I say, serving a plate for him and wrapping the crepes with strawberries inside and whipped cream on top. Bradley sprinkled them with powdered sugar and it’s getting everywhere I’m sure.

  “Did you make these yourself?” he asks, giving me a suspicious look when I hand the pretty plate to him. He’s sitting up in bed, wearing soft black sweats that sit low on his lean hips and a tank top that is tight, s
howing huge, square pecs and a rippled set of abs. I try not to look at his exposed shoulders, so tight and large.

  Something slightly wet hits my nose, and I see him holding a strawberry out to me on his fork.

  “What the hell?” I ask.

  “I was hoping I could interest you in eating some fruit, rather than my body with your voracious eyes.”

  I chomp on the strawberry and yank it from the fork, chewing bitterly at the indignity of always being caught when I’m perving on him.

  I can’t help it. I love the look of him. Light olive skin. Intelligent eyes that are now behind glasses for some reason. I can’t imagine he has bad vision. All shifters seem to have perfect genetics. Their personalities on the other hand…

  I should ask Thor how he’s coming along with my book.

  “How has your day been so far?” he asks, taking a bite and groaning as he chews. “Oh shit, that’s good,” he says, leaning back on one arm. A tiny bit of cream is at the side of his mouth, and I have this unbearable urge to lick it.

  Something extremely good smelling is in the air. Faint, but so impossibly delicious that I can’t resist licking my lips as I watch him. He takes another bite and chews slowly as his eyes close in ecstasy. “Oh, gosh.”

  “The day has been…interesting. And no, I didn’t make it, at least on my own. I had help,” I say.

  He sets the fork down and looks over at me. His face is lightly flushed and he takes his glasses off so there’s nothing between us. The effect is instant.

  Being able to look in his eyes, the scent is stronger, compelling, closer.

  What kind of magic is this man capable of? He leans forward and brushes my cheek with his soft thumb.

  “You have some sugar on you,” he says.

  “Oh,” I say, touching my face where he just touched it. I’m sure I’m bright red at this point. I feel like I have a certain resistance to men in general, due to my life being not full of great experiences with them. But with enough prepping, it’s easier and easier to feel relaxed and aroused with them. And Bradley sort of already prepped me…

  Lindon takes another bite, eyeing me as he chews. Those eyes are like champagne, bright and sparkly. But then they narrow and darken to 24 karat gold. I watch him eat, trying not to let my mouth fall open.