Until Sadie: Happily Ever Alpha World

by Sarah Curtis

  She was on her side, facing him, the light from the bathroom illuminating the side of her face. He could stare at her for hours and never grow tired. He counted the freckles on the bridge of her nose—there were seven.

  “You’re staring.”

  “It’s one of my favorite things to do. Stare at you.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s another one.”

  He rolled onto his side bringing their faces inches apart. “Kissing you.”

  She smiled. “That’s one of my favorite things, too.”

  “Is it now?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He moved in closer, capturing her lips. She parted willingly for him and he deepened the kiss.

  It didn’t take him long to discover what a bad idea that was. Sadie half naked in a bed, his willpower could only go so far. But while he was willing to stake his claim so he wouldn’t miss his chance with her, making love to her wasn’t a line he would cross until everything in his life was settled. She was too important for him to fuck up their relationship.

  He forced himself to pull away and her little mewl of protest was almost his undoing.

  He kissed her forehead. “Roll over, baby.” He’d allow himself to hold her.

  She snuggled against him, her back flush to his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her. The wiggle of her ass as she tucked herself in closer, had him biting back a groan.

  Torture. Pure torture.

  But fuck if it wasn’t the most pleasurable torture he’d ever encountered.

  She huffed and wiggled again.

  “Settle, baby.” He couldn’t take much more of that. As it was, his dick was so hard it throbbed.

  Her foot brushed his shin and even that set him off. One of them had to go to sleep and in the state he was in, he knew it wouldn’t be him.

  “Go to sleep, baby.”

  She squirmed, her ass pressing his dick as she adjusted her pillow. “I’m trying.”

  He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of roses and ran a soothing hand up and down her thigh.

  That plan backfired when she tucked herself in closer and sighed.

  He needed to put an end to the madness for both their sakes.

  His hand searched for the hem of her shirt as his lips found her ear. “Part your legs for me.” Barely controlled lust made his voice low and rough as his lips grazed the shell of her ear.

  She hooked her leg over his and he skimmed a hand up her thigh. She breathed a soft sigh when he found the lace of her panties and his fingers dipped under the elastic. Sucking on the tender skin at the curve of her neck, he slipped a single finger through her folds, finding wetness there.

  God, she was soaked. His dick twitched and he pressed it into the crack of her ass, unable to stop himself.

  He slid a finger down, filling her, his thumb finding her clit and circling it.

  She moaned.

  Damn, he liked that sound.

  Pressing himself harder into her ass, he rocked to the rhythm of his finger sliding in and out, her hips gyrating to the same rhythm.

  He sucked her neck harder.

  She started panting.

  Hooking his finger, he found her sweet spot, rubbing it and feeling her tighten.

  Her breaths came faster, and he doubled his efforts.

  She was warm and slick, coating his fingers with her desire. His lips made their way back to her ear, and he sucked the lobe into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

  She gyrated her hips faster, her hands clutching the quilt in tight fists.

  “Dean?”

  “Right here, baby.”

  Her leg tightened around his, right before she shuddered in his arms, a sweet sigh falling from her lips. She sagged against him, and he slipped his hand from her panties, laying it on the flat of her stomach, and kissing her temple. “Go to sleep, baby.”

  “Mm-kay.” Her reply was drowsy.

  He tucked his nose into her hair, breathed in the scent of roses, and closed his eyes, listening to her breaths even into sleep.

  But he’d been right. Sleep for him took a long time to come.

  Chapter Six

  Wiping his hands on a rag, Dean made his way down the hall to the break room, his footsteps slowing when he heard raised voices coming from the cracked door to Ray’s office.

  “The guy bailed. What was I supposed to do?”

  “We don’t want to hear any excuses. You fucked up. Now you’ve got to move double the product or Matas ain’t gonna be happy. And you know what happens when Matas ain’t happy.”

  There was a slight shuffling and the voice sounded louder. “Get it done.” The door was yanked open and a big guy in a suit walked out almost crashing into Dean. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Dean raised his hands. “Nobody, man. Just a guy walking by.”

  The man stepped around him, clipping his shoulder as he stormed past. His long strides ate the distance of the hall and he was out of view within seconds.

  Dean turned back toward the office door. Ray was standing in the threshold. “How much did you hear?”

  Dean shook his head. “Not much.”

  Ray’s look was penetrating. He took a step back. “Come into my office a minute.”

  Dean stepped inside.

  “Shut the door.” Ray moved around his desk and sat behind it. “Take a seat.” He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk.

  “What’s going on?” Dean asked as he sat.

  Ray remained silent, sizing him up. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been seeing a lot of my sister.”

  Dean tensed. “Listen, if dating your sister is going to affect my job—”

  Ray waved that away. “No, nothing like that. Sadie’s a grown woman and a hell of a lot smarter than me. She can make her own decisions without me interfering.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desktop. “I’ve been watching you. You’re quiet, mind your own business, and focus on the job.”

  Dean nodded, waiting him out.

  “I’m in a bit of a bind. Need someone like you—someone I can trust—to help me out.”

  Dean narrowed his eyes. “Help you with what exactly?”

  Ray cleared his throat. “Delivering packages.”

  “And the contents of these packages, are they legal?” Dean had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer.

  Ray just shrugged, confirming his suspicions.

  “Holy shit, Ray.” Dean stood from his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

  “It’s easy money.”

  Dean circled to the back of his chair and leaned heavily on it, his knuckles turning white from his firm grip. “Not easy if I’m caught and go to jail.”

  Ray shook his head. “The chance of that happening is slim. The people you’d be dealing with are regular customers.”

  Dean speared Ray with his eyes. “Why ask me? Why not take care of it yourself?”

  “I’ve got a lot of product to move. The guy who was helping me bailed last week, stealing half my product, and leaving me... Well, you saw the guy who left. Let’s just say, not good things will happen if I don’t find a solution.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask again, why me? You’ve only known me two months.”

  “Figured, if I’m trusting you with my sister, I could trust you with this, too.”

  Dean straightened, ran a hand through his hair, and contemplated his boots. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Tell you what. Try it out. Do a few deals, make some extra cash. You don’t like it, you can quit. No hard feelings. But I guarantee, once you see how easy it is, you’re not gonna want to stop.”

  Dean closed his eyes and squeezed the back of his neck. After a full minute of thinking about all the things that could go wrong, he opened his eyes, directing them at Ray. “The Corps made us brothers, and I respect the code, but I won’t go into this blind. You want me in? You need to clue me in.”

 
They studied each other for a long moment.

  Finally, Ray nodded. He gestured to the chair again. “Take a seat.”

  Dean sat.

  “About five years ago, I was at the lowest point of my life. Living off Ma’s social security and the handouts Sadie tossed my way.”

  Dean’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything.

  “Long story short, a friend of a friend hooked me up with this guy. Said he would help me open a mechanic shop. Become a silent partner. But there was a catch.”

  “There’s always a catch,” Dean interjected.

  “You got that right. Anyway, the catch was that I help distribute his product and claim the cash through the business.” Ray released a sigh. “He’s got me by the balls, man. If I don’t come through…” He dropped his head, losing Dean’s eyes.

  He studied Ray, noting the dejected slump of his shoulders. He was a defeated man.

  Dean took a deep breath. “I’ll help you out but there’s a catch.”

  Ray raised his head, giving him a slight smile. “There’s always a catch.”

  Dean leaned back in his chair. “You want to hear it?”

  He held out his hands. “I’m all ears.”

  A short while later, Dean stood and held out a hand. Ray took it, and they shook on the deal.

  Chapter Seven

  “Son of a…” Dean yanked his hand from the engine he was working on and watched a stream of blood splash on the bumper and puddle on the ground. He reached in his back pocket and whipped out a rag.

  “Don’t use that, for Christ’s sake,” Ray yelled as he jogged across the compound.

  “What would you like me to use? I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.”

  “Not a dirty, oily rag! Hang on.” He disappeared around a corner and came back a moment later with a clean rag. He shoved it at him. “Here, use this one.”

  Dean grabbed it and wrapped it around his palm, making a fist to try to stop the flow of blood.

  “You need to get that looked at.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Dude, it looks like someone got murdered in here. It has to be deep.”

  “Hands bleed a lot. I’ll give it a minute then check how bad it is.”

  Ray hovered at his side like a mother hen.

  Finally having enough, Dean appeased him by unclenching his fist and unwrapping the rag. It only took a second for the gash to well with blood and start dripping again.

  “You need stitches,” was Ray’s instant assessment.

  “I’ll go home and butterfly it. Won’t use it this weekend, and in a few days, it’ll be fine.”

  “You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?”

  Dean laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it. But I am going home.” He tipped his head toward the car he’d been working on. “Can this wait ‘til Monday?”

  Ray waved that off. “Yeah, yeah. And if not, someone else can finish it up.”

  “Okay.” Dean clasped Ray on the shoulder with his uninjured hand. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Be sure to clean it good before you butterfly it,” Ray yelled to his retreating back.

  He didn’t bother to turn around, but he did lift a hand in a wave of acknowledgment.

  Dean hadn’t been home a half-hour when he heard a knock at the front door.

  He finished pulling a tee shirt over his head and ran his uninjured hand through his wet hair, brushing it back from his forehead, and made his way to the door.

  Sadie stood, still in her scrubs with a small duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

  He opened the door wider for her to step in. “I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.”

  She got up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss. “I don’t. But I got a call from Ray, telling me I had a stubborn patient I needed to tend to.”

  “You didn’t need to do that. I’m fine.” He’d gotten it to stop bleeding until he’d cleaned it while in the shower and it started up again. But a couple of butterflies and some gauze had solved the problem.

  Sadie went into the kitchen and set her duffle down on the table. She turned to him and held out a hand. “Well, you’re dealing with me now, not Ray.” She wiggled her fingers. “Let’s see.”

  Knowing when he was outmatched, he closed the distance between them and placed his hand in her palm. She got to work unwrapping the gauze.

  “Dean! This needs stitches.”

  His eyes moved from her to his palm. She’d removed the butterfly bandages and had pried open the cut to see how deep it was.

  Releasing his hand, she opened her bag. “Sit down. I’ll clean it and stitch it up.”

  He didn’t argue with her. First, he knew a few stitches would help it heal faster. Second, it was an argument he wouldn’t win—her little chin was jutted out, a sure sign. And third, he kind of liked the idea of her tending to him even if she was about to gouge him with a needle.

  He grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the table putting it between his knees, to open it.

  Sadie plucked it from him, twisted it open, and handed it back.

  “Thanks, darlin’.” He grinned and took a sip while Sadie pulled shit out of her bag.

  “How did that happen?”

  “Cut it on something sharp inside the engine of a Taurus I was working on.”

  “When’s the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

  Dean thought back. “About two years or so ago.”

  “You should be good then.” She sat down on the chair next to him and picked up a syringe.

  “You don’t need to numb it.”

  “The wound is deep. Cleaning it will sting like a bitch if I don’t.”

  “If it does, will you blow on it and make it better?” He was only half teasing. Her head was bowed, and so close, he could smell her shampoo. It was driving him crazy.

  She didn’t look up from her work. “If I did that, I may as well not disinfect it at all. The mouth is a cesspool of bacteria.”

  Done poking at him, she doused a piece of gauze with some strong-smelling shit and started cleaning the wound. When she finished, she threw the gauze down and picked up a pair of blunt-ended scissors using them to pull a U-shaped, threaded needle from its package. “If you’re queasy, you might want to look away. I’m going to put a couple of sutures in the fascia before closing you up.”

  From his time in the service, he’d had to learn basic first aid, including how to administer stitches, and knew the fascia was the connecting tissue that covered the muscle. With such a deep wound, if that wasn’t stitched first, it would put too much strain on the outer sutures, causing the wound to not heal properly or even rip open. “Wouldn’t get very far in the service with a queasy stomach.”

  She picked up a pair of tweezers in her other hand. “Very true.”

  He watched her work. She took her time, being meticulous, making sure all the sutures were evenly placed. After the final snip of her scissors, she said, “All done. Let me rewrap it, and you’re good to go.”

  “Thank you.”

  She must have heard the sincerity in his tone because her head popped up. She studied him for a second before saying, “You’re welcome.”

  He reached out with his uninjured hand and brushed a thumb along her cheek. God, she was beautiful. So perfect, it made his chest ache. Emotions swelled to the surface, but he refused to give them free rein.

  Dropping his hand, in a voice raspier than usual, he said, “Seems we both have the evening free. After all this, I owe you some ice cream.”

  She was quick to agree. “I’ll go get changed.” Grabbing some clothes out of her bag à la Mary Poppins, she disappeared down the hall to the bedroom, coming back a minute later. “Ready!”

  Her radiant smile stopped him in his tracks and his heart skipped a beat. He mentally shook himself and cleared his throat, grabbing his keys. “Let’s go.”


  After a meal at the local diner—which he’d insisted she eat once finding out she hadn’t had dinner—and ice cream from their favorite spot, they took a stroll on the beach.

  The sun had set, but there was a full moon casting its shine on the water’s surface, making it glow. They walked, hands clasped, along the water’s edge. Every once in a while, Sadie would stop to pick up a shell she thought was pretty or unusual and hand it to him so he could hold on to it for her in his jacket pocket.

  It was one such moment—they were at peace, alone in their bubble, and she’d just handed him a shell with an expression of such happiness on her face—that the words almost tumbled out.

  “Sadie, I…”

  She stared up at him, blinking, waiting. His heart started to quicken as so many emotions rushed to the surface. His need to cherish and protect. His burning desire to finally make her his in all ways. Being inside her and having her come apart in his arms. The urge to tell her…

  And that’s when he panicked. The timing still wasn’t right. He couldn’t give Sadie the words until he could give her himself.

  So instead, he said, “I want to kiss you.”

  Her lips tipped into a smile. “You never need to ask for that.”

  Burying the words that burned in his chest, he took Sadie in his arms and poured out his soul in his kiss, hoping like hell it conveyed everything he couldn’t say.

  Chapter Eight

  Dean stared into the open refrigerator, but instead of contemplating what to make for dinner, his thoughts were on Sadie. He was starting to worry. He hadn’t heard from her since her first break that morning.

  That had been almost five hours—and several texts from him—ago.

  He knew she was still safe at work—the tracking app he’d installed on his phone had told him that much— but if she didn’t call him soon, he was going over there to see with his own eyes that she was okay.

  Giving up on food, he grabbed a bottle of water and closed the fridge. His phone rang, and he felt relief as he pulled it from his back pocket until he saw who was calling.