Alpha Contender Boxed Set: BWWM Paranormal shifter romance BBW

by Terry Bolryder

  Then I’m bared to his gaze. I guess when he does something he goes all the way.

  He runs his hands over my thighs as he moves down the bed, eyes locked on mine as he lowers his head. When I realize his intent I try to sit up, eyes wide.

  “Wait, I was just working out. Let me shower.”

  He shakes his head, planting one huge hand on my stomach to push me back down. “Let me taste you,” he says quietly, eyes locked on mine like he’s waiting for consent.

  “Oh fine,” I say, slumping back against the pillow as he trails a finger teasingly down the inside of my thigh, touching me where I’m wet and ready. I’m self conscious about myself down there, but looking at his eager, turned on expression, I feel reassured that I’m beautiful, that there’s nothing gross about me.

  Then his tongue hits me, one long, rough stroke up the center of me, like tiny bolts of lighting straight through me. I gasp and arch back, saying his name, and he focuses in, tongue swirling in circles around that most sensitive part of me. He may not be claiming me in a technical sense, but he’s claiming me in another way, because after feeling like this, I don’t know how I can ever accept anyone else.

  He reaches up to hold my breasts as his tongue continues to stroke and work wickedly against me. I squirm against him, twisting my hands in the sheets next to me, wondering what part I’m supposed to play in this. Just lie there while he makes me feel amazing? That doesn’t seem fair. Given, I’m a virgin, but this doesn’t seem like a typical sexual encounter.

  “Lindon,” I say, caught up in a haze of pleasure and wanting to just know that he’s there.

  “I’m here,” he says, and then he flicks his tongue against me and I arch up as the combination of the touch and his sexy voice bring me to the edge again and push me right over, falling, plummeting through pleasure so strong it’s almost frightening.

  I call his name, over and over, and he keeps his hands on my breasts, his mouth kissing me as I come against him, tensing over and over.

  “What about you?” I gasp out, when I can finally speak again.

  He answers by continuing to work his tongue over me, a devious grin on his face.

  I twist my fingers into the sheets and lose the ability to think as he plays my body expertly. How can a man with so much to offer a woman really be done with them forever? It’s a crime against humanity. Wolfmanity. Oh gosh, here comes another one…

  I scream out as I crest another wave, no longer able to care if other men in the house hear me. It’s so intense, I don’t know how many more I can have.

  I reach for him, for the top of his shorts, hoping to pull them down. I want to see him, need to see him. His face is flushed as he sits up and wipes his mouth on the back of his arm, eyeing me with triumph and hunger. I breathe heavily, and he watches my breasts move with the action.

  The hunger in his eyes is insatiable. An appetite he keeps locked so far down that even he probably isn’t aware of how strong it is.

  Even in this moment.

  He’s about to lower himself down again, running his hands all the way down my body from my breasts to my thighs to the tips of my toes, but just before he’s about to take me in his mouth again, a loud knock sounds on the door.

  I look up at him, wide-eyed. His expression hardens. He looks at the door and I can tell he’s as irritated as I am that there’s a world out there interfering in what we do. Encroaching.

  Even if they have a right to.

  We stay locked in a silent staring contest, lust in the air around us, and something else in the air, something stronger. Telling us to go further, to not stop now.

  I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me. He resists slightly and then rests his head against my shoulder, his chest against my breasts, which cushion him softly. He lets out a low growl and relaxes against me only for a moment, and then sits up, still straddling me, and looks over at the door.

  It thumps loudly again. They call our names.

  All the men that actually want me. One who might want to kill me.

  And the only one I want, right here in my arms, exhausting me with pleasure, and looking right now like he’s going to reluctantly walk away from it all and let me go back to them.

  My heart cracks in two just in anticipation of it.

  “I’m sorry, Misty. I really do wish…” He trails off, propping himself on his hands and looking down.

  “Wish what?” I ask, trying to reach up to him, but he turns away. “Why can’t you have something if you wish for it?”

  “I’m just…” He won’t meet my eyes. “I’m just not brave enough.”

  That shocks me to silence. Not brave enough? What does that have to do with anything?

  “Ava… I guess I cared so much about her. I told myself we were fated. It was easier to believe that she was the only one so I never had to think about feeling that again.”

  “Feeling what?”

  “Like you love someone so much that you’ve given them a piece of you, and they take it with you when they die. I wanted to believe that as horrible as that was, it was at least the last time it could happen. I used it as an excuse, I see that now. Because I didn’t want to fall again. Females are too fragile, like my mother and Ava.”

  “Not all females,” I say, sitting up and pulling myself back against the headboard, so that he’s over my lower legs rather than my hips. This isn’t a conversation I can have on my back.

  He puts a hand up and clenches his hair in his fingers and then drags his hand down over to cover his face, head lowered. A position that breaks me just by looking at it.

  “It doesn’t always have to hurt like that, Lindon. And it’s worth it. You might be able to avoid feeling bad, but you’d also avoid feeling good,” I say quietly.

  “I told you,” he says in a low, rough voice. “I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry, Misty. You’d be better off with one of them.” He rolls easily off of me, pauses at the end of the bed and then stands and walks away. He stops at the closet with his back toward me. “You should probably go now.”

  I hesitate. So confused. It seems like we got so close. It seems like he realized something important. I thought that meant that maybe we had a chance.

  At least now we both know it’s not about Ava being his fated mate.

  “I can wait,” I say. “I know you’re dealing with a lot.”

  “Wasn’t that enough payment?” he snaps. “To pay for you staying another week, I mean?” he says coldly.

  My whole body goes numb at the hurt that causes. It just shuts down and refuses to feel the force of that cruel blow. I know he doesn’t even fully mean that horrible statement. He can’t, I saw the look in his eyes and the fervor in his fingers as he made love to me.

  I don’t believe him, but it still hurts that he would even say something like that. That he would try to hurt me like that, just so he didn’t have to deal with his shit.

  “You’re an awful person, Lindon,” I say in a low voice, trying to keep it from cracking. I hastily pull my clothing on and head for the door, not caring who’s behind it.

  “Misty, wait,” he says, turning with stricken eyes, like he wants to take something back.

  I wait, hope flickering in me like a tiny birthday candle flame.

  “You aren’t leaving, right?” he asks.

  The flame goes out, like someone just licked their fingers and smothered it. He just wants me to keep my deal. He’s messed up, and there’s nothing he can do about it, and I need to get away from him before he can hurt me more.

  I could have stood one night with him, if it could have ended with kindness. But to throw the deal in my face, to act like it meant nothing, like it was a transaction…

  Hell, maybe it was…

  Suddenly I just need to be away from him. Maybe forever. I ignore him and open the door and walk out to see a group of the guys. Their faces blur, angry words flying around me as I try to push through them. They can smell it, I know it. Smell him on
me and the desperation I had for him.

  But as I’m jostled and bumped and overwhelmed by the noise of the crowd, a strong arm reaches in and pulls me free and against a warm chest. Across from me, Lindon comes to the door and the men rush to him with their questions and demands.

  They needn’t worry, I’m not claimed. Lindon wouldn’t do anything that permanent.

  I look up into the face of the man who pulled me aside and see Lock’s warm, amber brown eyes looking down into mine with sincere concern. He puts a finger to his lips to motion for me to be quiet and pulls me to a nearby room while the others are distracted by yelling at Lindon. We both slip in and he closes the door quietly behind us.

  I drop to my knees on the ground and put my hands down to prop myself up. Then I just stay there for a moment, still letting the arousal ebb away, still fighting off the pain of Lindon’s words. That he can have me, but he won’t. That he was just fulfilling a deal.

  Tears fall and quiet sobs escape me. I’m not a crier. I hardly cried when I lost my adoptive parents. If you don’t show pain, it doesn’t exist, right? I stay there, crying, and Lock stays silent behind me.

  Giving me privacy.

  I need to feel alone right now, because that’s what I am. In reality there’s no one I can trust. I let the tears fall as long as they need to, and then wipe my eyes, push myself to a standing position and walk to the desk so I can sit in the chair. I fold my arms on the desk and slump over them.

  I hear Lock’s footsteps cross over to me. Can feel his presence next to me. I’m too embarrassed to look up at him.

  “Did he claim you?” he asks quietly, something in his voice that I don’t understand.

  I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. The ass.”

  “Ah, but you wanted him to,” he says. “Didn’t you?”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I was just confused.” But I know that’s a lie. I wanted him to. It somehow felt like everything would work out after that if he just had. If he’d just had the guts. But then that stupid knock on the door brought him back to reality, reminded him of the situation. Turned his brain back on.

  Someone should tell him that sometimes not thinking is the better option. He’s the one who grew up knowing he was a wolf, shouldn’t he understand animal instincts?

  Lock crouches beside me and gently sneaks a finger under my chin to tilt my face up, forcing me to look at him with tear-stained eyes. His gaze is gentle. “Tell me what I can do to help. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  I can hear noises from the hallway. People arguing. Maybe they’ll find us soon. I can’t face any of them. I eye Lock. He has always been there for me, since the very start. I kind of just want to hide in here with him.

  “You want to just go?” he asks. “Get out of here for a minute? Go for a ride on my bike until everyone calms down?”

  I blink at him and then nod. That sounds good. I’m being a coward and running, but I just can’t face them all right now. Not while I’m hurt and weak. “Okay, but we can’t stay long.”

  He nods. “Sure. Just until they work things out with Lindon.”

  “Are they going to hurt him?” I ask quietly, a sick feeling in my chest at the thought. Why do I have to care about him when he doesn’t feel the same for me? I kind of understand what he means about not wanting to be in love because it can end so badly. But I’m the one who keeps being willing to get hurt with him. He isn’t willing to put himself out there at all.

  “I don’t think so,” Lock says.

  “Alright,” I say. “How do we get out of here?”

  He grins. “You leave that to me. In the mean time, you might want to take a shower so we aren’t as easily traceable.” He rummages in a drawer and tosses a towel to me. Then he hands me some of his pajama bottoms that tie in the front and a large shirt.

  “Be quick,” he says. “We’ll want to leave soon, before they realize we’re in here. I think I can stall them for a while, but not long.”

  “Right,” I say, heading into the bathroom. I shut and lock the door behind me, and allow myself a moment of freak out time as I slump against the closed door.

  Then I strip off my clothing and get in the shower to erase Lindon’s touch and scent. I don’t need them anymore.

  Chapter 4

  Lock’s idea for escaping the mansion isn’t much different from mine. We go out the window, but this time he’s carefully lowering me, tied in the drapes, to the ground.

  He comes down behind me and we walk quietly around the side of the house. His motorcycle is going to make this a whole lot easier. His pants stay up on me due to a drawstring, and I’m grateful for both bras with his thin tee shirt. We make it around the front of the house undetected. The alphas are probably still busy harassing Lindon and making him answer for his villainy.

  But it wouldn’t have been villainy in my mind if he had just finished what he started, or not ended it on such a bitter note.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Lock asks, gently opening the fence and waiting to make sure no one heard. Then he goes to his bike and hands me a helmet.

  “Oh, you know,” I say. “Things never go how you think they will. How you want them to.”

  “And sometimes they go better,” he says. “You never know until you try.”

  “Right,” I say, getting on the bike behind him as he puts his own helmet on.

  He starts up the bike with a loud rumble and pulls out down the driveway. I can hear shouts from within the mansion, but we’ll be gone before they can come down and find us.

  Lock turns sharply and I hug his waist as we head up into the hills, out into the darkness.

  It’s evening now, the sun is setting, and it’s beautiful out here. I love watching the tree line and the mountain ahead of us, and watching the cars on the highway in the distance and the mansion become smaller as we zoom away.

  It’s wonderful to just feel the cool air on my clean, warm skin. It’s wonderful to just hold Lock and know that he wouldn’t push me away, wouldn’t say what he wanted and then change his mind.

  We drive farther and farther into the hills, forking off onto side roads, going far from the mansion. It gets darker as there are less street lamps and as the sun sets. The darkness only makes it more romantic, and all I can feel is his warmth and the exhilarating air and speed of being on the bike.

  This was the perfect escape, and when we go back, I’ll be thinking more clearly, more able to look at the situation right. Maybe even able to forgive Lindon. Man, he’d have to grovel though. And that seems unlikely. I mentally face palm and hold Lock a little tighter.

  “You ready to go back?” he asks.

  I shake my head against the back of his neck. “No.”

  “Good,” he says. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  I nod and rest with my eyes closed against his back as we drive. I could almost fall asleep here, lulled by the roar of the bike and the feel of the road.

  When he finally stops, we’re at a small clearing that’s off the side of the road. I look out over the valley so far below us, the twisting roads leading up here like a maze. It’d take a miracle for anyone to find us.

  Lock puts up the kickstand and lifts me off the bike. He reaches into the pack on the back of his bike and pulls out a lantern, which he switches on, and a blanket, which he throws over his arm.

  There are a few trees near the edge of a ridge below us, obscuring the mansion from view. I guess that also means people below can’t see us.

  For the first time, a little thrill of uneasiness goes through me. I eye Lock as he puts out the blanket and sets up the lantern. Do I really know how well I can trust this person?

  Men are wolves, right?

  He sits on the blanket and looks over at me. “You coming? I’m not going to eat you. You can trust me, Misty.”

  I nod. If he bothers me, I’ll fight him off. “Yeah, I know.” I walk over and sit next to him. It’s a little cold and I can feel the dampness of the grass thro
ugh the blanket. But it smells amazing up here, like fresh mountain air and just that hint of burnt vanilla that is Lock’s scent.

  He runs a hand through his soft hair and I watch him curiously.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Can I touch it?” I motion to his hair.

  He laughs, a deep, full-bodied sound. “Sure.” He leans forward so I can reach him.

  I put my hands in his hair. It’s as soft as I thought it would be, and I wish I could see its gorgeous dark red color better right now. I take my hand out though. I don’t feel the same things touching him as I feel with Lindon.

  In fact, the thought of anyone else touching me kind of grosses me out.

  Just my luck. I go 28 years alone and then get totally set on someone I can’t have.

  “Misty,” Lock says quietly, leaning back on his hands. “How would you feel about mating me? I come from a good pack, nowhere near as elite as yours or Lindon’s, but I’d take good care of you.” He gives me a wink. “And we’d always have fun. I guarantee that.”

  “Hm, so the player is willing to settle down?” I joke.

  Something flashes in his eyes for a moment that looks a little like irritation, but the next moment it’s gone and that easy smile is back. Except that easy smile looks a little strained. “I don’t know about that so much. More like, I need to.” He drops the smile and looks at me seriously. “I don’t want to force you, Misty.”

  My skin crawls as I slowly turn to face him. “Force me to do what?”

  He moves a little closer, and I move a little away, and he wraps an arm around my waist and draws me in against him. “Misty, you know someone’s trying to hurt you, right?”

  I nod.

  “Well, the only way to stop them is to get mated. If you’re mated, killing you would do nothing, because they wouldn’t get what they’re looking for.”