And I do want him to be my first. He knows what he’s doing. My body responds to him.
I respond to him.
If you would’ve asked me a month ago what my type was, I never would’ve said some grease-monkey football player from the sticks who hates my guts, but there it is.
I am quickly becoming powerless around his charm.
And he does have charm. He’s not a meat-head jock. I don’t know how well he does in school, but the guy is smart. He reads people and situations. And he has this cock-sure attitude that makes him both an asshole and wildly attractive.
“Sloane.” His sexy voice cuts through the darkness, goes straight to my clit, which has been buzzing and pulsing ever since the vibrator incident.
I don’t answer. We’re not doing pillow talk here. It feels far too vulnerable. Because even though I was fully dressed, I got more intimate with him than I have with any other human being.
“I know you’re awake, Legs.”
“I’m trying to sleep, Bo.”
“What’s the money for?”
The room suddenly tilts, then spins. I wasn’t prepared for this question. I mean, I should’ve been. It’s part of the reason I’m so defended against Bo Fenton.
That and the fact that he’s extremely attractive but seems to hate me.
Although that may be changing.
“Where did the money from the Porsche go? Aside from buying the totalled Mercedes and paying me?”
“None of your business.”
Yeah, I know. Real quick. And mature.
But the truth is, it’s not. I don’t owe him any explanations. I’m sorry his brother got caught, but if Winslow would’ve let me sell the thing, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.
Then again, maybe I’d be sitting in juvie right now, and my innocent cousin would be on her way to fulfill some disgusting pedophile’s horrific fantasies.
“I’m gonna find out, Legs. All your secrets. You can’t hide them from me.”
“You’re not.”
Even if I wanted to tell him, I wouldn’t. Not even if we were besties, and I trusted him with my life. My shit is too dangerous.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
There’s more silence. I think maybe he’s going to let it go, but he says, “Are you in some kind of trouble, Sloane?”
I think it’s the first time he’s used my real name. I can’t decide if I like it or not. It definitely does something to my chest. Shoots straight in like a dart. Tries to crack me open. There’s a sincerity to the way he asked the question, to his use of my name that makes it extra personal. Almost sympathetic.
But I’m not dumb enough to fall into that trap.
Bo Fenton is not my friend.
He’s not here to shoulder my burdens. He’s not my white knight.
“None of your business, Bo.” I repeat in that overly patient sing-song voice.
“Keep it up, and I’m going to climb my giant ass up to that bed and steal all the mattress space, so you’re sleeping on the edge with no pillow.”
It’s a goofy visual and such a soft threat that I chuckle.
I can’t see in the dark, but I imagine Bo smiling back. For a guy who hates me, he’s starting to get downright flirty.
Can’t say I mind it, either.
God help me.
I cannot fall for this guy. Not even for a minute. Not even for pretend.
He doesn’t care about me. He’s just here to make my life difficult. And even if he did care—and again, he doesn’t—I’m not at liberty to form friendships or relationships or any kind of bond that could be exploited by the mafia.
I need to figure out how to get rid of Bo, so I can get on with solving my very serious shit problems.
I need to steal another car and fence it by Monday, or I’m fucked.
Chapter 6
Bo
I’m up before the Cave Hills princess, but I hear movement in the house. Her aunt has already showered and is moving around downstairs.
No sound from the cousin’s room.
I get up and quietly pad to the bathroom to pee.
I hardly slept last night because of my raging case of blue balls.
I swear, I almost got up to jack off in the bathroom twenty times, but I suffered through it. I probably should’ve just let off some steam.
Because now, just the thought of Sloane being in the shower beside me has me harder than stone.
I flush the toilet, and I'm washing my hands when the doorknob from the other bedroom door twists.
Fuck! The cousin!
In a mad scramble, I leap into the bathtub and hide behind the curtain.
A door shuts— the one to Sloane's room.
Fuck.
I hear the sound of her peeing. Then her hand reaches behind the shower curtain and turns the shower on full blast.
I bite down on my yelp of dismay as cold water drenches me. I slept in my jeans and tshirt last night, and now they’re getting soaked. Dammit!
I’m holding my breath, trying to figure out if it’s better to rip my clothes and shift into wolf form, so the kid finds a wolf in her shower instead of a very large male stranger when I hear a knock on the door to Sloane’s bedroom.
“Rikki?” The door opens and a frantic Sloane peeks behind the curtain on the other side of the shower. She disappears again. “Hey, would you mind if I took a shower first this morning? I promise I’ll be super fast. I just feel so gross, I can’t stand to wait another minute.”
“Uh...okay.” Rikki sounds doubtful.
“Thanks. Five minutes—I promise.”
“All right.”
I hear the door shut, and Sloane rips the curtain back.
I grin at her. The water is warm by now, so not so bad, other than the wet clothes sticking to my body.
Sloane reaches in and grabs a fistful of my t-shirt. “Get out!” she mouths, pulling me forward.
I grin as I allow her to tug me out. I fucking love her getting physical with me. Alpha female all the way. She really shoulda been a wolf.
She yanks a fluffy pink towel from the rack and shoves it at me, then points urgently toward her bedroom.
I laugh silently, walking backward in case she’s going to start stripping to get in the shower. Wouldn’t want to miss that shit.
She’s onto me, though. She flexes her foot and uses it to push me the rest of the way out, then shuts the door in my face.
I strip off my dripping clothes and leave them in a pile on the floor by the bathroom. I don’t mind wind-drying them riding my bike, but they really need to be wrung out first, or I’ll be wet all day.
Sloane wasn’t kidding about keeping her shower short. The water turns off, and I scramble to get the pink towel around my waist before she emerges.
Sadly, she’s not in a towel. She comes back wearing the same clothes she went in with, but my undressed status makes her steps stutter.
“Oh! Um…” She glances down at my clothes in a wet heap on the floor, then back up at me. Actually at my chest. Wait—is she ogling my abs?
“Like what you see, Legs?” I murmur in a low voice.
Her skin already glows pink from the shower, but she colors a little more before recovering and tossing her wet head. “You wish, buddy.”
I flash her my most wicked grin, but when my cock tries to give her a full salute, I muster enough decency to turn around and saunter to her desk where I plugged my phone into her charger. I keep my back turned and shoot my mom a text letting her know I’m fine and still trying to get in touch with Winslow.
I hear Sloane move quickly behind me, probably trying to get dressed before I turn back around, so I wait until the frantic rustling stops and the sound of her breath slows. When I look, she’s putting on some tunes from an iPhone docking station. Probably to cover any noise I make.
“I’m going downstairs. Feel free to leave any time,” she tells me.
I shake my head. “Not happening. Bring food.”
; “Not happening.” She puts extra emphasis on her lip movement since it’s more mouthing than speaking, and it makes me want to kiss the hell out of her. It occurs to me that she’s had no time to put on makeup or do anything besides comb out her wet hair, and she looks as gorgeous as ever.
She is definitely blessed with good genes. Too bad they aren’t of the wolf variety.
I hang out in her bedroom until I hear the cousin go downstairs, and then I carry my clothes into the bathroom to wring them out and put them on. Nothing like trying to yank on wet jeans.
When I return to the bedroom, Sloane is there with a giant bowl of cereal—Life from the looks of it—and two bananas.
“They’ll be gone in a few minutes, and you can throw your clothes in the dryer.”
“Aw, that’s damn sweet of you, Legs.”
“It’s only because—” She stops and shakes her head. “Actually I don’t know why I’m helping you. You are a serious pain in my ass right now.”
I nod. “As I intended.”
She flips me the bird with her left hand while she shovels a bite of cereal in her mouth.
Cute.
Damn cute.
* * *
Sloane
Bo waits for me in the parking lot at school when I ride my bike up. He invited me on his motorcycle, but I ignored the offer.
Ignoring his presence is pretty freaking hard to do, though.
Especially now that it’s starting to feel like he’s more flirting than mad. I really don’t know what his game his, but he’s damn hard to ignore.
He follows me into the school, straight into my first class—Spanish. Technically, he’s supposed to sign in at the office, but I’m not going to hold his hand for this. Frankly, I’m hoping he gets kicked out.
“Who is this?” Señorita Allen asks in surprise. I’m pretty sure she’s ogling Bo’s biceps. Which, why wouldn’t she, right? They’re a work of art.
“I’m her boyfriend Tyler, visiting from Michigan.” He sticks his hand out and flashes a panty-melting smile.
Señorita Allen falls for it. In fact, she invites the dude who normally sits next to me to take the seat in the back, so “Tyler” can sit beside me.
Lucky me.
He sits up straight, either listening attentively, or watching me with exaggerated attention, like he’s a love-sick dog.
It’s freaking embarrassing, and I’m ready to throat-punch him by the time the bell rings for my next class.
“Hey, there he is,” Teri gushes, catching sight of us in the hallway. “So fun you could come to school, Tyler!”
“Isn’t it though?” he gushes right back. “I wouldn’t miss a minute of time with my girl. She’s my whole world.” He puts his fist over his chest.
Teri looks uncertain, like she can’t decide if he’s making fun of her or being serious.
I roll my eyes and smack his chest with the back of my hand. “He’s being a dork. Ignore him!”
She bursts into a peal of giggles. “Hilarious. See you guys at lunch!”
“Can’t wait!” Bo calls out in a high pitched voice.
I smack him again.
He catches my wrist and with a quick tug pulls me against his solid chest. We’re in the middle of the hallway, but the crowd of students parts around us. I hear giggles and feel the curious stares as they pass.
“Careful, Legs,” he rumbles. “Remember your punishment for hitting me?”
I try to pull away, but he holds my wrist fast, slowly bringing my fingers to his lips and kissing one knuckle, then the next.
I’m trying not to think of it—I really am—but in my mind, he’s on top of me again, and this time he’s pressing my own fingers over my clit, talking dirty in my ear. Making me come over and over again.
I might have been pissed at him over what he did yesterday. It was definitely as humiliating as it was exciting. But he knew he crossed the line, and he checked in with me. So I’m good. And yes, I get shivers every time I think about it happening again.
And even though my first priority needs to be getting rid of this guy, I definitely do want it to happen again.
So I answer, “I’ll take my chances, Muscles.”
He bites my knuckles—a quick nip—then releases my hand with a grin. As we resume the walk down the hall, I’m pretty sure he has to adjust his junk because I just made him hard.
Two can play at this game.
And I always play to win.
* * *
Bo
Cave Hills classes aren’t quite as boring as Wolf Ridge. They’re harder, for sure. I can see why it’s a top rated public high school. The teachers are entertaining and smart. They are relaxed with the kids, who don’t give them shit. Totally different culture.
I emailed Wolf Ridge High this morning from my mom’s account to say that I needed to stay home to deal with some family business. Considering how small Wolf Ridge is and how fast gossip travels, the attendance clerk at school will assume that means I’m dealing with the Winslow problem and cut me some slack.
I know the other alpha-holes would sneer at my admiration of Cave Hills, and part of me wants to sneer too. These kids are so sheltered, they don’t know how easy they’ve got it. All they have to do is work hard at school, and life gets handed to them on a platter. They’re not working jobs on the side, dealing with shit like alcoholic parents or abuse.
Then again, maybe they are. Sloane must have some pretty big problems, or she wouldn’t be stealing cars.
At lunchtime, Sloane leads me around to the back of a building to eat her lunch.
“Are we hiding?” I ask.
She gives me a death glare. “Obviously.”
“You don’t want to show off your hot boyfriend?” I make a show of flexing my arm and popping my muscles.
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, there you two are!” Sloane’s eager beaver friend Teri pops around the corner with Samantha. When she sees Sloane’s lack of excitement, she covers her mouth. “Oh my God, did you guys want some private time? I’m sorry!”
I scoot closer to Sloane on the grass and pick her up to sit on my lap. “Yeah, we’re going to do it right here in the grass,” I boast.
“Will you get off!” Sloane scrambles off my lap and bats at me again while her friends laugh.
“I’m trying to.”
She slaps me again. I catch her hand and bring it to my mouth, making a big show of kissing each finger while she wrestles me the whole time to take it back.
Her friends clearly decide they’re not intruding because they plop down on the grass with us.
“So are you staying with Sloane? At her aunt’s place?” Samantha asks.
“Yep,” I answer immediately, at the same time Sloane says no.
They glance from one to the other of us. “Well, which is it?”
I give a wicked grin. “I’m staying there, but her aunt doesn’t know. I crawled in her window last night.” I waggle my brows like we’re the naughtiest little high school sweethearts imaginable.
Sloane blushes.
“Well, we won’t tell.” Samantha sounds like she’s reprimanding Sloane. Probably offended she hadn’t been in on the truth.
They can’t be that tight yet, though, or Sloane would’ve already told them I’m not the real boyfriend.
Why didn’t she? That doesn’t really add up. If she doesn’t want me around, why not just deny it from the beginning?
Unless…
There is no Tyler.
But why would she have a made up boyfriend?
Dude, this girl is so shady, it’s hard to know what’s truth and what’s lie.
It’s hard to stay hardened against her, though, when she does things like pack me a lunch. She hands me two neatly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “Hope you don’t have a peanut allergy.”
“Wouldn’t you know if he did?” Samantha asked. These Cave Hills kids are too bright for their own good.
Sloane takes a bite of her
sandwich. “Totally. I’m just kidding. I know he’s good.” She shoots me glance, and I confirm with a giant bite of the sandwich.
“Mmm, this is delicious. And you’re a peach.”
She rolls her eyes.
“So, tell me about Sloane’s life at Cave Hills. She’s the track star, of course.”
“Definitely. She’s taken first at every meet so far. We might have a chance at State this year,” Samantha says.
“Yeah right, like Wolf Ridge High would ever give up their reign.”
I open my mouth, about to say something honest, like “you never know”—because we do have to lose sometimes, or it would look strange—until I remember I’m from out of town. “And what else? You two are her besties?”
“Will you stop grilling my friends? You already know all this stuff.”
I flash my flirty grin at the girls. “I like to hear it from them.”
Teri offers, “It’s a good thing you came because she’s probably going to win Homecoming Queen, and she wasn’t even going to go.”
That’s right. Homecoming.
And I’m her date.
“When is that?”
Teri narrows her eyes. “Tonight,” she says with a what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you expression.
Tonight. Right. Fuck—I have a football game.
I wink, though. “I know, I meant what time?”
“Seven,” Teri and Samatha say at once.
Seven. That might work. The game is at four. If Coach lets me play, I still have time afterwards to shower, put on a tie and get back to Cave Hills. Might be a little late, but that’s fashionable.
“We don’t need to go,” Sloane attempts.
“Of course we do, babycakes.” I reach over and thumb some peanut butter from the corner of her lips, loving playing the doting boyfriend role because it pisses her off. “That’s the whole reason I’m here. And you might get crowned queen. And here I just thought you were a princess.”
She elbows me.
I catch her around the waist and pull her back on my lap as punishment. When she struggles, I tickle her, then open my knees to trap her in the hole between them, so I can cage her with legs and arms.
Alpha Knight Page 7