Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  Damn it.

  He thought he was a wolf again.

  “You’re a person,” she said to him. “You can talk. Say something. Please, say something.”

  He didn’t.

  She took him into the tent, finally, and had him lie down. She was even more confused about the sleeping thing now. She was ninety percent sure that she’d actually read that it was a myth, and that people with a concussion should get their rest.

  So, she just let him sleep there in the tent. And she watched him.

  The sun reached its apex—noon. And then it began its slow descent down the other side of the sky.

  The afternoon dragged on with no sign of Leroy. The overalls that Jasper had given her got hot, so she removed them. But she felt self-conscious moving around in just her top, so she sat at the edge of the tent.

  She wondered what she’d tell Jasper when he arrived. Would he believe her that Ryder had spoken?

  Did it matter if it did?

  She was pretty sure what had happened to him had only been a side effect of his concussion. He’d experienced temporary amnesia. When he woke up again, the amnesia had corrected itself and Ryder was a wolf again. Maybe there was no hope for his recovery after all.

  But then why had he talked before?

  What had caused it?

  She crawled back into the tent and knelt down next to him. His skin was golden and smooth. He had a tiny bit of hair on his stomach, but it was a sort of peach fuzz that she found very appealing. She had an urge to run her fingers through it.

  Don’t be silly, Calla, a voice inside her head scolded. This is a mentally ill man with a serious injury. You can’t molest him in his sleep.

  And yet, the notion wouldn’t leave her mind. It was so strong that she couldn’t help herself. She reached out and ran her hands over the hard muscles of his stomach.

  He felt incredible under her fingertips. He was firm and solid, like stone, but he was warm and alive. And his skin was silky smooth except for the places where his hair grew. It provided a scratchy bit of contrast. She liked touching him.

  He sighed in his sleep.

  She pulled her hand back, feeling guilty.

  He stirred, eyes fluttering open.

  She peered into them, and she couldn’t tell if she saw the dull eyes of the wolf or the sharp intelligence of the man. She only knew that the being lying next to her was beautiful and powerful, and that some part of her—some deep, primal part—wanted him.

  So when he reached for her, pulled her face down to his to kiss her, she didn’t resist.

  She let him fit his lips to hers, let him ease his tongue inside her mouth.

  It felt lovely. She sighed against his lips.

  His hands began to roam over her body. One hand found her bare legs, another was working at her shirt, pushing it up to expose her flesh.

  She felt the familiar trepidation at allowing him to do this, but another part of her no longer cared. After everything she’d been through recently, she was shaken and confused, and she knew that this felt good. She knew that she wanted him. She surrendered to his touch.

  He rolled her over onto her side. He pressed his body against her, and she wrapped her thighs around him. He ran his hand from behind her knee to all the way up her leg—back and forth.

  Goosebumps puckered on her skin. Her breath started to come in gasps.

  He pushed at her shirt, pushed it all the way up, and now her bra was uncovered.

  She touched his bare chest again, felt how muscular and warm he was. He seemed so alive, and his body was so perfect that she could hardly believe she was actually touching it.

  He passed his thumb over her bottom lip and looked deep into her eyes. “P… pretty,” he whispered.

  She touched his lips too. “You spoke,” she whispered.

  He kissed her again, kissed her deep and forcefully. His fingers trailed over the bare flesh of her leg, going higher to cup the curve of her ass. And his other hand fondled one of her breasts through her bra.

  The pleasure was searing. She hadn’t been touched this way in so long, and she didn’t think anyone who’d done it had ever seemed to enjoy it as much as Ryder was. She let out a tiny breathy sound.

  His lips moved away from her mouth, kissing her jaw, kissing the hollow of her neck.

  She arched her back, gasping, giving herself to him.

  “If you let me… finish this,” he murmured, “then… I won’t… lose it.”

  “Lose it?” she said. Her head was swimming with satisfaction. What was he talking about? She decided she didn’t care. She didn’t care why he was speaking. She didn’t care if he stopped and never started again. She liked the way this felt too much to stop it. She was going to let it happen, and consequences be damned. For all the hell she knew, Leroy would come back into the camp and bludgeon them both to death with the remnants of the camp chair. These could be her last hours on earth. She was going to spend them feeling good.

  “Lose…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s so hard to… to…”

  She put a finger over his lips. “Shh… It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.” She pushed herself up a little bit, and she tore her shirt over her head, feeling reckless. “I want you to be my wild man. I want you to ravish me. I want—”

  He was kissing her fiercely, cutting off her words, and his body against hers did in fact feel wild and unbound. He tore at her bra, ripping it from her body and baring her breasts. When he saw them, he sucked in breath audibly, and then buried his face in them.

  She moaned as his mouth found her nipples, as he gently nibbled and sucked, drawing them both up into tight peaks. Tingles went through her body, drawing a taut line of desire between her breasts and her crotch, which was tightening. Slippery heat was gathering there.

  He pushed her onto her back and pressed the length of his body against hers.

  She could feel the press of his erection burrowing into the softness of her flesh.

  “So soft,” he rasped, running his hands over her waist and hips. “Get… lost in you.”

  She yanked him down to kiss her again.

  He did, gathering both her breasts into his hands and squeezing them gently. When he broke the kiss, he gazed down at her bare skin with adoration in his eyes. “You’re all curves.”

  She shut her eyes.

  His hands were on her panties then, pulling them aside, taking away her last barrier. Now she was completely nude.

  He lowered his mouth to her breasts again, and then he used his hands to explore her between her legs, running his fingers against her swollen heat.

  She felt lit up—a live wire. She groaned, writhing against him, straining as he teased and tickled and found her most sensitive places.

  “So wet for me,” he murmured. “Ever since I saw you, I wanted you like this. Spread out in front of me, offering me everything.”

  Her eyes snapped open. That was a lot of words. She hadn’t expected him to—

  But he shook his head at her. “Don’t. Don’t stop this. I need to be with you. You need to give yourself to me. If you don’t, I’ll never make it back all the way.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant, but she was aroused and ready for him. She seized the front of his pants and freed him. “Take me, then.”

  He made a growling noise—so similar to the ones she’d heard him make before—and it was almost as if the animal within him floated to the surface. There was a savageness to the way he pressed himself against her.

  She cringed, afraid that he would enter her and hurt her, but when his huge hardness found her, he slid inside easily, sheathed in her as if he was meant there.

  He grunted, shutting his eyes, and he didn’t move for a second, as if he was savoring the fact that he was actually inside her.

  And she found herself stretched and filled so sweetly. His shaft was snug in her, deep enough to be satisfying without any movement, and just the perfect girth.

  They started to move together. H
e thrust, and she moved her hips to meet him.

  He claimed her mouth again, sighing.

  He was amazing. She couldn’t even remember the last time that sex had felt this good. Most of the past years of her life, any love-making had been rote for the sake of trying to get pregnant. This was passion—raw and real. She’d nearly forgotten what this was like.

  She felt unleashed by it. Bold. She ran her hands over his back, all the way down to clutch his ass cheeks, urge him faster and deeper inside her, an invitation he took to immediately.

  She moaned.

  “You’re perfect,” he gasped.

  “No,” she said. “You are.”

  His thrusts filled her, pierced her, fulfilled her.

  She lost track of how long it went on, but it seemed like it was ages of perfect bliss, each moment wonderful and immaculate, like tiny beads of water strung together on a line. She lost herself in every second of delight, and then she surrendered to the next.

  With every thrust, he drove her closer to ecstasy.

  Calla had only ever once managed an orgasm without any direct clitoral stimulation. It had been a long time ago, and she’d been drunk at the time. It wasn’t something she counted on. She was perfectly happy having sex without an orgasm. It still felt good… and if she was still worked up afterward, she usually just finished herself quietly.

  But this man, this wild wolf man who could barely speak, this man with the golden skin and the perfect penis, he was going to make her come, and she could just tell.

  She was riding the sensation, like she’d just boarded a carnival ride, like she was being dragged up the track higher and higher.

  Each time his erection buried itself in her, it seemed to go deeper, to push her just a little further up the track. She lay beneath him, moaning like a woman gone mad, pumping her hips against his, concentrating…

  Just a little further. She was almost there.

  Maybe she was even saying that out loud. She must have been, because he was suddenly talking.

  “You going to come for me?” His voice was grating, strained.

  “Uh huh,” she gasped. “Soon. Just keep doing that.”

  “God, you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

  “Keep fucking me,” she said, not caring about anything but the pleasure, which was reaching a fever pitch. “Fuck me so hard.” She’d never use words like that in bed with Chad—never. And she didn’t care.

  In response, Ryder grasped her hips, holding her in place, and he began to drive himself into her with abandon.

  Almost instantaneously, it happened. She reached the top of the track, and she toppled down over the hill. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, like she was free-falling, and she was engulfed in rapturous loops and dips—racing around the track of her climax, screaming it out beneath her Beast Man, giving herself completely over to bliss.

  She twitched and thrashed against him, and he kept at her, still driving himself into her.

  Slowly, her moans stopped.

  “Did you?” he breathed.

  She laughed. “Couldn’t you tell?”

  He stabbed her deeply one last time, and then he wasn’t moving, and she could feel him emptying himself in her.

  She shut her eyes in fulfillment. Wow. That was all. Just… wow.

  * * *

  After it was over, they lay in each other’s arms, both struggling to catch their breath. They were sweaty, something Calla hadn’t quite notices in the throes of it, but she found herself liking the way their scents mingled together. It was feral and untamed, like their coupling had been. Like Ryder himself was.

  She ran her hand through the hair on his head, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes.

  He smiled at her, his expression languid and happy. “Finally,” he whispered.

  She raised her eyebrows. What the hell was he talking about? “You know, whenever you talk, you almost never make sense.”

  He chuckled, rolling off her, removing the crush of his body. But he stayed close, lying on his side and resting a hand casually on her belly. “I knew it would work. Every time I kissed you or touched you, I got a little closer to being human again. I knew that if we… went all the way, I’d come back completely.”

  “Really?” she said, furrowing her brow. “You mean I fixed you with sex?”

  He laughed again. He lay back and closed his eyes, but he was still touching her.

  “So, you’re not going to turn into a wolf again and stop talking?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I remember everything now.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Except why my head hurts. Did something happen to me?”

  “You still have amnesia, I guess.”

  “Amnesia?”

  “Leroy hit you over the head with a chair.” She bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, maybe having really wild and rough sex wasn’t a great idea when a person was concussed. “Sorry. I don’t think I should have let you get so, um, physical. I think you might have a concussion.”

  He gingerly touched his head. “Well, it does hurt. And I don’t remember that bit with Leroy.” He looked her over. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine. I had the gun.”

  He ran a finger over her face, tracing the outline of her jaw. “You’re really fantastic.”

  She blushed. She couldn’t believe she was just lying here next to him, her whole body exposed like this. Usually, she was a little shy about her body, especially with the extra weight she carried around.

  “I’m sorry that we did that without protection,” he said in a low voice. “I wasn’t really human enough to remember anything about condoms.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I can’t get pregnant, so the only thing to worry about would be STDs, I suppose.”

  “Werewolves never get STDs,” said Ryder.

  “Never?” she said.

  He shrugged. “I never heard of it happening.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Well, that’s all the proof we need, then, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled again. “Oh, I like you. I mean, I knew I liked you all along, but when I was all messed up in the head, I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. I knew my name, but that was it. I didn’t have language anymore. It was…” He gazed at her. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Calla,” she said. She guessed he’d lost the whole period of time when they’d spoken before. If he didn’t remember Leroy hitting him over the head, she guessed he wouldn’t remember that either.

  “Calla,” he repeated. “That’s a nice name.” His hand moved over her body. He slowly began to trace patterns on her skin with his fingers. “Does it bother you?”

  “My name?”

  “No, the fact that you can’t have children.”

  She was stunned by the question. Honestly, she was stunned that she’d come out with the information so easily to him. It wasn’t something she spoke about a lot. “I…” She didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she settled on, “Sometimes.”

  He kissed her forehead.

  And suddenly words were pouring out of her. “I was married. It bothered him—my ex-husband. Well, he said it didn’t, but he had an affair, and he got her pregnant, and he was so happy. Of course he left me, and they’re off together, planning their family, and I…” Her breath caught in her throat.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, his expression concerned.

  “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” She laughed a little.

  “I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” he said. “Maybe it’s a backwards way of doing this, first having amazing sex and then getting to know each other, but things have been complicated between us.”

  She started to laugh. He was right. This was the definition of complicated.

  “I want to get to know you, though,” he said. “I mean, if you want to get to know me.”

  “Of course I do,” she said. “You’re… refreshing.”

  He raised his e
yebrows. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  There was the sound of a car pulling up.

  Calla sat straight up. “Oh shit. That’s Jasper. We should get dressed.” She started to look around for her clothes. She found her bra, which had been ripped. “You have a thing about destroying my clothes, don’t you?”

  Ryder grinned. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

  She sighed, looking around for her top. If she could get that on, at least she’d be covered. She found it and was about to pull it over her head…

  When the door to the tent was unzipped. “You in here?” Jasper asked, poking his face inside the tent.

  Calla screamed, covering herself with the piece of fabric.

  Jasper’s eyes got wide. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with my brother?”

  “You want us to draw you a picture?” said Ryder.

  If possible, Jasper’s eyes got even wider. “Fucking A. You’re talking.”

  * * *

  Calla emerged from the tent a few minutes later, wearing her shirt and the overalls that Jasper had given her. She felt a little weird without a bra, but there was nothing for it at this point. She had to do what she could with what she had.

  Jasper and Ryder were talking in animated voices.

  “I don’t believe it,” said Jasper. “All this time, all I had to do was get you laid, and you’d snap out of it?”

  Calla cleared her throat.

  They both turned to look at her. Jasper had the decency to look embarrassed.

  Ryder smiled at her. “I’m not sure if it would have worked with just anyone. There had to be more to it than just sex, if you know what I mean.”

  “I don’t, and I don’t want to,” said Jasper, making a face. “I have no desire to picture you getting it on, little brother.”

  Ryder laughed.

  Jasper looked at Calla. “Uh, I guess I should thank you. You really did save my brother.”

  She twisted her hands together. “Are you going to make us stay here another night?”

  “Oh, of course not,” said Jasper. “We should break down the tent and get ready to go. Once everything’s packed up, I’ll drive you back to the carnival.” He furrowed his brow. “Well, I guess your car is at the last site and the carnival’s moved on. But we’ll find a way to get you home, I swear.”