Alphas Prefer Curves

by Unknown

  It was Jonah who raised his voice first. “I am not going to spend two weeks talking about this. If this is your plan, I’m leaving in the morning.”

  I looked up and over at them, but Shannon nudged my foot and shook her head. I turned back to our game, but it was impossible not to overhear them.

  “You are being irresponsible and unreasonable. Playing the investment game overseas, the Japanese don’t need you, Jonah. Silver Investments does. You could do very well for yourself if you just listened to me and someday the company could be yours. What’s not reasonable about that?”

  “I don’t want your company. We’ve gone over this before. You’re wasting your time and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Anyone in this family would be proud to be chosen to succeed me!”

  “Then give it to them. You have three other kids, groom them to be just like you, but I’ve got my own plans and they do not involve you or your money. They never have.” Jonah stood up, picked up his glass, downed the dark brown liquor, and stalked to the French doors that led out onto the deck.

  “Jonah, don’t go,” his mother called but his father cut her off.

  “You never take any interest or responsibility in this family. You might as well not even be a part of it.”

  The words weren’t directed at me, but I felt them anyway. Jonah stopped with his hand on the door, and I didn’t realize I was breathing hard until Shannon put her hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. She understood, even if we were supposed to pretend this exchange wasn’t really happening, even though that was totally crazy, she understood what I was hearing was my own father’s voice. Only he hadn’t said I might as well not be a part of the family, he’d pointed out I really wasn’t anymore. Not since he remarried and started a new one.

  Jonah opened the door and left us then, and no one tried to stop him. He was harder than his siblings, distant and antagonistic in a way I hated in people. But for a moment I understood, a little, how someone could get that way.

  Three

  The exchange between Jonah and his father haunted me. Shannon snored softly in the bed across from mine, but I was wide awake. There’d be no sleep for me, not for a while. Their argument morphed into the last conversation I’d had with my father over the phone when I was calling to make arrangements for someone to pick me up at the airport after classes were over. It had gone differently – my father wasn’t trying to get me to take over his company, but they were still too similar to shake the pain Mr. Silver’s words had surfaced in my heart. No, there’d be no sleep tonight.

  I grabbed a hoodie with my school’s mascot on the back and slid into my sandals. Maybe a walk would do me good. I knew the water wasn’t far and with a flashlight and a quick look at the map on the wall, I slipped out into the moonlit trees.

  Without the flashlight, finding the path would have been impossible. As it was, it was only nearly impossible. The trees became a solid shadow that extended until forever with only pinpricks of moonlight making it down through the foliage. The paths were kept clear and clean by invisible hired help, so I made it to the beach in only a few minutes. I was inside the dark trees, getting a little creeped out, and then they opened up and gave me a view of the inky black waves and a fat golden moon on its horizon.

  I was also, very suddenly, no longer alone.

  He sat close to the water, but not close enough to get wet. The waves stopped inches short of his bare feet as if he commanded them to keep their distance.

  I knew I should go back, leave him alone. I doubted he’d want to talk to me, but I also didn’t want to go back to listen to Shannon snore and stare at the dark ceiling for the next three hours. If he didn’t want company, I’d find a different spot on the beach to sit.

  When I got close to him, I noticed he hadn’t changed, the cuffs of his slacks were rolled up, so were his sleeves, and his shirt was untucked and wrinkled. He had a bottle of whiskey, something expensive looking, dug into the sand, and a glass in one hand, his elbow balanced on his bent knee. He lifted his head just enough to acknowledge my presence.

  “Are you lost, little girl?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” His voice and the chilly breeze off the water made gooseflesh break out across my arms. Before he could stop me, I sat a few feet away and took off my sandals so I could feel the cold water on my skin.

  “Who raised you, animals? It’s rude to invite yourself into someone’s company when they clearly want to be drinking alone.”

  From anyone else, I’d take it as a joke, but there was no humor in his voice. As soon as I sat down, I moved to stand again with a sigh.

  “Never mind. You’re already here, might as well enjoy the very expensive view.” He leveled his dark eyes on me and held out his half empty glass. I shook my head.

  “Figures you’re not old enough.” He swallowed the shot he’d offered me, and refilled his glass.

  “I’m old enough,” I corrected with more hostility than I expected. “I just don’t want your pity-party alcohol. You seem to need it more than I do.”

  “You,” he pointed at me over the rim of his glass, “have a very smart mouth. Everything Shannon told me about you was a lie.”

  “She told you about me?” I didn’t know why this surprised me and I wasn’t sure whether I liked that he had secret knowledge of me or if I was angry at Shannon for telling him anything.

  “My sister isn’t very good at making close friends. None of us are, if you can’t tell. The Silvers don’t want to be equal with anyone; they just want to be seen by everyone. There’s an important difference.”

  “You’re the only one who has treated me that way.” I sounded braver than I felt. My stomach twisted itself up. “You do not have a very good opinion of your family’s money.”

  “You are very nosy, little girl. What would you know about money?”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  His voice lowered, dark and husky, and my body responded. It was the sound of the ocean, being alone out here with this man who clearly wanted to forget a lot of things, who I understood in a way he couldn’t know about, but I liked the way his voice made me feel. I liked his attention, even as antagonistic as it was. It was better than sitting in my bed alone thinking about the past.

  “What would you like me to call you then, little girl?”

  “Most people call me Jessica. You could start there.”

  “I don’t think so.” He took another drink and when I glanced at him, surprised at his answer, I saw something new in the intensity of his eyes. Be bold, Jessica, I thought, and reached for his glass. He let me take it and our fingers brushed, the first intentional contact I’d made with anyone today. He didn’t startle like I would have, but his eyes opened a fraction and I thought I could detect a change in his breathing, too.

  I finished his drink for him. It was warm and a little sweet, but burned as it went down my throat. I’d never tasted whiskey straight like this before, and it wasn’t something I’d choose to drink on my own, but at that moment it was exactly what I wanted.

  He reached for my face, settled his fingertips against my hairline and stroked his thumb along the contour of my cheek. I pulled away automatically, but his fingertips tugged at my jawline, held me in his thrall.

  “I’ve had a very bad night,” he mumbled. His thumb trailed to my lips and traced them, first the top then the bottom. “Open,” he commanded. Be brave, Jessica, and I parted my lips just enough. “Perhaps you could help improve it.”

  Perhaps. It wasn’t a question, but a taunt. A challenge. What was it about this dark, brooding man whose voice brought out the fight in me? Maybe he knew from my behavior at dinner I couldn’t resist a challenge from such an arrogant person.

  I turned over onto my knees so I was closer, close enough for the palm of his hand to flatten across my cheek. He pushed his thumb between my lips, an invitation and another challenge. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had made me feel bold, certainly none had looke
d at me with these hungry eyes as Jonah did. I had made plenty of mistakes in my past, allowed enough men to take advantage of my fear and doubt, but I didn’t want Jonah to take advantage of me. I wanted to make the decision to go forward myself.

  Nervously I touched the warm, salt-water skin with the tip of my tongue. His eyes opened a little wider then narrowed again. He pushed his thumb further into my mouth and I closed my lips around it. I drug the tip of my tongue up the flat of his thumb slowly. Briefly he closed his eyes, opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it quickly. Jonah pulled his hand away, steeled himself.

  “Come closer,” he said and made room for me between his knees. “On your hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

  Maybe it was because I already knew he didn’t like me, didn’t like anyone, that I had nothing to lose. His good will never existed in the first place. So I did, oh god, I had no idea what was happening and why I wanted to behave this way for him, but I obeyed.

  A soft part of me wanted to help him make his night better, maybe as much as I wanted my own painful thoughts pushed away. I crawled between his knees the few steps, just like he asked. As soon as I was within his space, both of his hands were on me, pushing my hair back, stroking my neck, my shoulders, pushing my jacket back until it was sliding off into the sand. While I was still wearing my oversized pink night shirt and shorts, I felt completely naked the way his eyes roamed down my body where his hands traveled. They stopped to cup my breasts, to consider them beneath his judging stare. They were larger than his palms, too big, always fucking too big, but he lingered touching them, stroking across the cotton fabric over my nipples. They were hard, he had to have noticed.

  And he didn’t stop. He touched me like he wanted to, and maybe he did or maybe I was just willing to pretend. I couldn’t even tell anymore. I did not, for some reason I’d no doubt regret in the morning, want him to stop.

  I wondered, for the first time with any boy, what it would feel like for him to touch them without the fabric between us. I’d been with men…boys…before and some of them didn’t care if I took my shirt off or not. Some found the lack of access to my breasts frustrating. But I knew if anyone saw the scars, they’d stop. Better they thought I wanted to hide my weight from them.

  I couldn’t take that kind of rejection then, I certainly couldn’t take it from Jonah Silver now. He’d say something terrible and I’d have to hate him for it. I didn’t want that to happen, not now on this private beach under this moon with the waves at our back and a sleepless night stretching out in front of us.

  “Take it off,” he commanded. “I want to see your body.”

  There it was. I jerked back from his hands and closed my palm across my stomach so he couldn’t lift my shirt if he didn’t like my answer. “No. I don’t do that, I mean, with anyone.”

  Jonah looked annoyed, seized my arms, and yanked me back to him. “Don’t be like some embarrassed girl. Your body is a pleasure to look at and I want to see more of it.”

  Lie. Lie! I shook my head because I knew it was not a pleasure to look at. I kind of hated him for even suggesting as much.

  “It’s not like that. I just, don’t. Please, ask me for anything else. Just not that.”

  The annoyance disappeared as fast as it had come to a new, intense gaze that started at my belly and traced its way up to my eyes, my mouth. He reached for my face again, touched my lips with the thumb I’d licked.

  “Anything?”

  Anything, anything else, I thought. I was surprised by how ready I was to beg. Is this what I wanted, to give myself over to my best friend’s troubled, distant brother?

  Yes, I decided. Tonight that’s what I wanted.

  “If I tell you to take my cock out and suck it until I come, you’ll do as I say?”

  His language made something in my belly twist, made me wet and tremble just enough for him to notice. This must have been yes enough because he wrapped his hand around the back of my head, buried his fingers in my hair, and pulled my face close to his. His lips were inches from mine.

  “Do it,” he commanded. “Take it out.”

  My hands shook a little as I reached between us, stroked my palms down his thighs to discover how very hard he was already, pushing against the fabric and ready when I worked at his belt. He strained closer to my hands, a little feral hiss escaping his lips.

  “Don’t make me wait,” he pressed, which only made my fingers stumble even more. As soon as his belt was open, I unzipped him slowly, because of my own nervousness and also because I knew it would increase his impatience. I was rewarded with another hiss.

  I wanted him to kiss me. I touched my forehead to his, pushed his pants back, and pulled his boxers down so I could access all of him. I couldn’t see what I was doing, how big he was, not with our foreheads touching this way, but I was thrilled when I wrapped my fingers around the hard, engorged length of him. Longer than my palm, hot to the touch, as thick as my wrist. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying this private pleasure. With his eyes closed I leaned into his mouth until mine just brushed his lips.

  His eyes flew open and he jerked his head back enough that I couldn’t continue the kiss. The secret pleasure was replaced by uncontained lust and that distance, dark and brooding.

  “We won’t be doing that,” he admonished and tightened his grip on the back of my head. “Down.”

  A mewl escaped my throat. His words, direct and desirous, soaked me and I knew I’d do anything to ease the wall he built between him and the world. I’d do anything to prove he could kiss me, to make him want to kiss me.

  I shifted back a few inches, squeezed my thighs together and lowered my head between his legs. His hand pushed me down, but I’d have gone anyway. I gave his shaft a squeeze, stroked the skin up to the head and back down. He said nothing, but his breath quickened in time with my racing heart.

  He wouldn’t like me kissing it. I had the feeling that level of intimacy was off the table. He wanted me to suck it, a strange girl on her knees for him, and so I did what I thought he’d want most. I took the head into my mouth, closed my lips around it and sucked teasingly once, then twice. His fingers tightened into fists in my hair and I could feel him forcing himself to relax, to not give too much power over to my mouth.

  “Suck it, little girl,” he murmured. “Prove yourself to me.”

  His words encouraged me. I licked the tip, rubbed the flat of my tongue across it and traced a circle around the rough ridge. I licked softly, pulled it out of my mouth wetly and moved my hand out of the way so I could lick from his balls back up to the head.

  I pushed it back into my mouth and began the deliberately slow motion of taking him deeper.

  It slid across my tongue, bumped the roof of my mouth. When I went as far as I thought I could go, I stopped and sucked, closing my mouth tight around it. He moaned, so soft I was sure he didn’t want me to hear. He pulled at my hair, strawberry blond curls hiding his view of me, pulled them up and out of the way.

  His breath caught as I started to slide back up. I squeezed my thighs, desperately wanting to touch myself, to relieve the pressure between my own legs. He had no idea how turned on I was by this game of who could make the other beg first.

  I won when he let out a growl and pushed my head down and thrust his hips up to meet my lips. I let him push me all the way down, hungry and desperate, until he was hitting the back of my throat and I knew he was mine in that moment.

  Between clenched teeth he commanded me. “More. More.”

  I gave him more.

  Jonah released his hold on my head and gave me control over his pleasure. I quickened my pace, sliding him in and out along my tongue, licking at the drops of pre-cum, letting him see my desire to please him. His hands were encouraging, pushing when he wanted to go deeper into my mouth, moaning when I licked up his shaft and around the head with the tip of my tongue in a way that I quickly discovered made him mad with lust. The second time I did this in a row he collapsed back into
the sand, leaving only one hand on the back of my head, the other he grabbed at the sand with his fist, his breath hot and short, punctuated with moans I loved to hear.

  He was stubborn though, and held out until my jaw began to ache. I wanted to make him cum, to take a moment of control from him. He must have sensed this and tried to hold back as long as possible, but when I took the shaft in my hand and started bobbing my head up and down faster, squeezing the head between my lips and just barely grazing my teeth when I went down further and further until I kissed the base of his cock, he was done for.

  His hips thrust to meet my mouth, buried both hands in my hair and pushed my head down, all the way down, with his last desperate attempt to control me. He cried out as his cock jerked against my tongue and waves of cum spurted against my throat. I rushed to swallow as fast as possible, as obedient as possible. If I couldn’t be thin and beautiful, I wanted to be the best at making him scream. That was power, too.

  When his hips fell back to the sand he released his hold on my hair and I licked him clean as I slid him out of my mouth. His hands softened and his fingertips stroked my hair affectionately. His fingertips stroked my cheek before he suddenly remembered himself and let me go.

  Jonah lay there spent, gazing at the stars as he worked to control his breathing.

  I licked my lips of the last of him. My skin vibrated with the want to touch him again, but I didn’t dare, not in this vulnerable moment. I wanted him to touch me now though. I was soaked through, shaking, more turned on than I had ever been, and desperate to have his hands on me. He had no idea how willing I was to let him have what he wanted at that moment. I felt powerful, forcing this vulnerable moment out of him where his pleasure was my doing, but I also needed him to know how badly I wanted his hands between my legs.