Alpha Me Not

by Jianne Carlo

  “How’d the police miss it, if it was so close?”

  “The school’s at the bottom of a perpendicular escarpment. Not climbable. And not accessible by car or truck. The dogs didn’t pick up the trail.”

  They reached a wide curve bordered by a sheer drop to a muddied ravine. He fell a step behind so as to not crowd her.

  “How’d you pick the scent up?”

  Joe curbed a wince at the suspicion-laced emphasis. Definitely not the right time to break the half-breed wolf news. “Dogs track scents on the ground. At most at a two-paw standing level. I look up as well as down.”

  It was a lame explanation, but all he could come up with.

  The route narrowed, and they entered a thicket of dense pines.

  “You go ahead of me.”

  He hung back and ran in place. Joe’s night vision allowed him to focus on the mulish line her lips assumed. His mate hated taking orders. Distraction was in order.

  “Careful going up. From here the path takes a series of ninety-degree turns, and the elevation increases exponentially. A slow, steady pace is the best way to approach the gradient.” The last sentence virtually ensured she’d race up the hill.

  “Gotcha.” Susie twirled and poked his chest. “Beat you to the top.”

  Damn it. Even knowing how his mate would react hadn’t prepped him for her lightning dash. She caught him off guard. Before he could take a step, Susie disappeared around one of the near perpendicular bends he’d warned her about.

  She ran like Mercury.

  Her feet skimmed the packed earth.

  “Slow down, woman.”

  Instead of complying with his hissed command, she put on a burst of speed and vanished up an abrupt, sharp incline. He scanned the solid tree line, expanded his pupils, and zoomed in on the vegetation. A flash of her white tank top appeared right above him. He leaped the three feet to the trail above.

  Her victorious laugh startled a nearby flock of swallows that took flight in a flurry of beating wings, snapped branches, and outraged squawks. He pumped his arms, jumped again, and scented the lemon shampoo she’d used yesterday.

  She stopped on a nickel right in front of him.

  Joe ran into Susie’s back.

  Instinctively he curved his arms around her waist.

  Her hands snagged his wrists.

  “Can you feel that?” Her dread-laced whisper curled the hairs on his neck.

  Touching two fingers to her mouth, he slowed his breathing and listened.

  An icy draft slid up his spine.

  Not five yards ahead, a wispy curl of fog slithered along the leaf- and needle-packed forest floor. Shaped like a snake with a flat cobra head, the gray band slinked between spindly pine trunks, undulating and mimicking the eerie movement of a slithering reptile.

  The moisture that always preceded a Hallie-based fog was absent from the atmosphere. The apparition didn’t have any solidity and appeared to be a collection of cloud-type molecules, or smoke. No sound accompanied the thing’s progress into the forest.

  Susie shuddered.

  Joe tugged her closer and linked his fingers.

  His hackles rose, but he scented nothing strange, just the familiar. Rotting undergrowth, fungus, and a hint of acid? He frowned and searched for the source of the acridity.

  Cautiously, in an exaggerated slow motion, she turned in his arms and mouthed, Home?

  Stifling the urge to emit a victorious howl, Joe nodded.

  Home, she had called his house home.

  He met her stare and replied in the same manner, On three. Back down the hill.

  Joe held up a finger. Lifted his precious mate and set her in the opposite direction. Swiveled so he stood behind her. Raised another finger.

  She angled her head to see him.

  Three.

  They made it back to the start of the trail in less than six minutes. Just over two miles in under six minutes.

  Susan Elizabeth White hadn’t practiced full disclosure with him, not that he expected it at this stage in their relationship.

  No ordinary female, not even an Olympic athlete, could manage such a feat. He didn’t utter a word but matched her pace and relaxed into a walk when she did.

  “What was that…thing?” She turned to him. “It creeped me out.”

  “Dunno. But I know I’ve seen something similar before.” Only as the words formed did the realization set in.

  “I haven’t. Not even in horror movies.” She hunched and shook out her shoulders. “I ran part of the same trail yesterday. The middle part by the ravine. It gave me that same cold, slimy feeling. I’m being paranoid, aren’t I?”

  “No. Always go with your instincts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cheated death because I had that tingling back-of-the-neck feeling and acted on it. Tomorrow I’ll check out both places.”

  “I want to come with you. I’ll never feel comfortable running there again until I’ve checked the area thoroughly.”

  The set of her jaw told Joe she expected him to argue.

  “Sound thinking. We’ll go together.” He clamped his lips together to prevent a snicker at her annoyed scowl. Joe halted when they reached the border of the state park and Terri’s lot. Elm Close and Birch Crescent were bounded by the Hallie Forest Reserve. Side by side, they strolled around the scarred, empty lot that once housed Terri’s bungalow. Yellow and black tape delineated the property, so he assumed the authorities hadn’t finished their investigations.

  She sniffed. “Wonder how long it’ll take for the burned smell to go?”

  “A week maybe if we don’t get any rain.”

  “Hard to believe this is all that’s left.” They surveyed the ravaged plot. The smudged concrete slab was barely visible in the faint moonlight amid the mountains of rubble, brick, charred planks, and the odd recognizable item: the wire rim of a lampshade, and a brass doorbell. “What do you think Terri will do?”

  “I spoke to her today. She’s authorized me to deal with her property. Once the fire department gives us the okay, I’ll hire a crew to dig out the foundation. She wants to rebuild and put in a basement. When things settle down, she’s going to ask Kieran to come up with a house plan.”

  “As in Kieran and Barb?”

  The wind picked up as they neared the top of the cul-de-sac, and swung Susie’s ponytail to one side. She caught the ends of her hair and twirled the fat length around her fingers.

  “Yep. Kieran’s an architect.”

  “No kidding. You two been friends for long?”

  “Since the day I moved here. Fifteen years ago.” Man, had time flown by fast. “Kieran and I met right where we’re standing now.”

  “Did the city put up a plaque to commemorate the occasion?”

  “Sassy woman.” He snagged her waist from behind and rested his chin on her head.

  “Does the street look the same as it did back then?” Susie leaned into his embrace, and he linked his hands over her belly.

  “Pretty much—except for Terri’s house.”

  “I guess the neighbors have changed since then, though. I know Mr. Arnold’s on the right. Who’s on the other side?”

  Terri’s lot had the middle end spot and the widest and largest backyard. Mr. Arnold’s house rode the right and back of the pie-shaped wedge. “The Hassanis. Next to them is Taxim, a former Canadian supermodel. Then Bernice and Don Jones, retired principal and nurse, respectively. Next to them at the end are the Lees, they have a baby and a toddler.”

  “Gemma told me about the right side of the street. Mrs. Laughlin’s next to her, then a local sculptor, and then a widow and her son?”

  “Correct. Reuben Gentry considers himself an artist, not just a sculptor. Fay Ward’s the widow—in her eighties, but spry and smart as a whip. Ivan’s her son. Let’s go home.” He had plans for the rest of the night, and all involved keeping her on the brink of climax for as long as he could hold out.

  “Didn’t mean to bore you.”

  He s
et his hand to the small of her back. “You could never bore me, and you well know it.”

  “Right now, if I had a choice, I’d choose boredom. This all feels so surreal.” She waved at the scorched remains of Terri’s house as they walked past. “What if I did start the fire, Joe? What if I didn’t close either of the tank valves properly? How on earth am I going to make amends to Terri?”

  Her question ended on a choked sob, and she focused on a spot somewhere in the distance. The notion had been eating away at her. He rested his palms on her shoulders, swung her around, and shook her gently when she kept her focus on his chest. “Susie?”

  The shimmer in her eyes spoke volumes. Guilt and remorse pinched her lips.

  “First. We need to wait for the fire department’s report. Until we have that—no what-ifs. Agreed?” She had no guile, his mate. Every emotion she felt imprinted on her features, the hopeful quirk of a brow, the quick, hesitant frown, and the fervent nod.

  “Good.”

  She trapped one hand. “But what if the insurance doesn’t—”

  Joe stopped her with the slight pressure of one finger. “I checked everything today. Terri’s fully insured. No more what-ifs.”

  The huge sigh Susie expelled and the worry evident when she knuckled her brow had his stomach clenching. Then he grinned. One sure way to distract her big-time.

  “After you.” He waved her up the stairs and enjoyed the sway of her tight ass as she cleared the three steps to the deck. He hurried ahead, opened the door to the bungalow, followed her inside, and tugged her into his arms.

  “I’m sweaty.” She set her palms to his chest.

  “So am I.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s get clean.”

  She tilted her head, eyed him, and a slow, measured smile captured her full lips. “Why, Joe Huroq, what splendid ideas you have.”

  Well, well. Why would his mate pick that particular Grimm tale to almost paraphrase? Did she subconsciously recognize his wolf?

  “All the better to eat you with, little girl.” He mugged a leer. “My shower or yours? Mine has special features.”

  Placing a finger on her chin, she sent him a sidelong glance and, in a coquettish, husky voice, asked, “Do I get to try out all the special features?”

  “You bet.” He hauled her up high against his chest and whirled in the opposite direction. “Be forewarned—it works both ways.”

  “I’m game.” The devilish gleam in her eyes held a sensual promise he intended to collect.

  “You should know. I play to win. All’s fair and all that.” He nipped her lower lip, stalked into the kitchen, and caught the time on the micro. “Crap. It’s almost nine. And it’s a Monday night. If we don’t order food now, we’ll have to go to the twenty-four-hour Walmart and grab what we can.”

  Was her little sigh one of relief?

  “It’s up to you.” She avoided meeting his gaze.

  “How about we order food now, but have them deliver it in half an hour? Shower. By then the food will be here, and we can decide what we’re hungry for—round two or actual grub?”

  Joe waggled his eyebrows and beamed when she mock gasped, hand to her chest, and mirrored his actions. “Round two? Methinks the mercenary doth boast too much.”

  “No boast, woman. A promise. The way you turn me on, we might need round three before I’m satisfied enough to focus on food.” He couldn’t treat her like one of his fuck buddies, no matter what delusion she suffered under. Nope. Time for seduction. Tease and titillate and keep her on the brink. Make her beg.

  He slid her down his front, cupped her ass, and ground her mound over his erection. The thin running shorts didn’t cover or conceal a single pussy fold. Her soft pubic curls poked through the taut material and stabbed tingles along his turgid cock. Christopher. How in hell would he survive taming her?

  Soon, soon he’d take her sweaty and musky from a fast run. Their slick skin sliding and rubbing sheer ecstasy chest to chest, her rosy nipples nipped to tight, hard, buds. Joe choked back a groan and concentrated on enduring the next couple of hours of tortuous anticipation.

  While Susie phoned in an order for Greek food, Joe replied to an e-mail on his cell phone. His commander had accepted his resignation and had wished him well.

  “The food will be here in forty minutes.” Susie stacked a menu into the drawer by the fridge. “They said their driver goes off duty at ten.”

  “Then we’d better skedaddle, darlin’.” He scooped her up. “I can’t wait to soap every inch of your gorgeous body.”

  He had them both undressed and in his shower in no time at all.

  Self-conscious to the max, Susie tried to use her hair as a shield, pulled the thick locks in front, and draped the black mane over her breasts.

  Joe chuckled. He adjusted the knobs, tested the temperature with his toes, and pulled the lever for the gentle tropical rain and steam. He’d left the lights muted, and the bathroom glowed with a soft luminosity.

  “You were right about the special effects.” She lost her wary nervousness and examined the spouts hissing warm, moist air. Moved away from the two-foot-wide showerhead, tiptoed to peer at the pattern of holes, and grinned.

  Unable to focus on anything but the tips of her luscious, rosy nipples pearling and peeking between the wet strands of hair, Joe tweaked one and then the other.

  “Joe,” she squeaked and darted out of his reach.

  Stalking her, he growled, “Susie.”

  Wrapping both arms under her breasts, he took a moment to savor the visual of her sassy nipples mouthwateringly puckered, then cupped the sweet mounds and weighed them in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about this all day long.”

  “Me too.” She stopped squirming and sank into him, her backside cradled his erection.

  “You feel so good. Soft and warm and wet.” He nudged her thighs apart and slid his cock between her slick pussy lips. Nuzzled her neck and gave her a quick nip.

  Her fingers curled around the outside of his thighs. She arched to the left.

  Sliding her wet locks to the side, he bent to suckle her nape.

  She moaned.

  “Like that, do you?” He tasted a hint of salt at the point where hair met skin at the back of her neck, inhaled the fragrance of woman and a clean, honest sweat mingled with the lemon from the shampoo.

  “Hmmm.” Joe grasped her right wrist, raised it high over her head, and set her palm on the tiled wall. Her nails dug into his flesh when he ducked under her arm and took her nipple into his mouth.

  “Oh. My. Yes.” She squirmed and tried to turn around, but he held her fast and laved the peaked bud.

  Slipping his hand down her belly, he marveled at the suppleness of her flesh. He parted her labia and rested his thumb on her clit.

  Her breath hitched on a low yelp.

  Teasing her sex, he rolled the slippery bud between his fingers.

  She canted her hips forward, and he obliged, gliding first one finger, then another into her sheath. Joe had been right the first second he’d seen her. He had died and gone to vagina heaven. She fisted his fingers.

  He bent his head to her breast and suckled hard. Licked, laved, and nipped while finger fucking her clenching pussy.

  “Joe. Joe.” She grabbed his hand and urged him on faster, rose onto her toes, and shuddered, grinding her mound on the heel of his palm. Her long moan echoed and resonated off the walls.

  He rubbed his cock up and down the crease of her ass. Joe rode the edge but wanted her with him. He thumbed her clit in a tight circle. “Come on, babe. Come with me.”

  Jesus, she was an inferno, her sex muscles vacuuming his fingers in short, sharp, jerks.

  He bit down on her nipple.

  Her whole body contracted.

  She made a garbled sound, somewhere between a shout and a growl, and her pussy walls went into a series of rapid-fire convulsions.

  He lost it. The orgasm rolled his testicles tight to his perineum, flamed across his pelvis, and his sperm
erupted in hot jets onto her ass crease.

  For a long time they stayed in that position until Joe felt her knees tremble and fold. He swept her up and stumbled to the bench on the far wall. Sat her sideways on his lap and tucked her head under his chin.

  A few minutes elapsed. She butted him in the jaw. Patted the spot she’d injured. “You have a bench in your shower?”

  Grinning, he bussed her lips. “And that’s just the beginning. We haven’t even begun to explore the special features.”

  “You’re a wicked man, Joe Huroq. I suppose you’ve done this loads of times.”

  Ah, he recognized her guarded tone. Was she one of many? “Actually, I finished the bathroom remodeling right before I left on my last mission. This is its christening. And I have the same aversion as you do to eating where you muck. You’re the only woman I intend to share this with, Susie Elizabeth White.”

  “I never told you my full name.” She toyed with the circle of hair framing his areola.

  “Nope. You didn’t. I researched you on the Internet. I decided to storm your bastions and needed information armor.” He kneaded the small of her back. “You’re twenty-five, Susie. How is it I was your first? Not that I’m complaining. No way. I’m extraordinarily shocked and fricking pleased. And why didn’t you tell me? A woman’s first time should be special.”

  She scraped the wet strands of hair from her cheeks and forehead, stared into his eyes, and gifted him with a smile the famed Greek sirens couldn’t match in a zillion years. “But it was, Joe. Special. Perfect.”

  His face warmed. “I’m glad you think so. So why hasn’t some lucky son of a gun claimed you?”

  “I grew up in a small town in northern Michigan. My family came from the wrong side of the tracks, and my father and mother both drank too much. There was no way I was going to add slut to the gossip pool about the Whites.” She clamped her lips together and averted her gaze.

  Joe knew regret for her openness and honesty had set in, and he didn’t want to push her too far, too fast. “The food will be here soon.”

  “Is that my cue to disappear back to my room?” She sidled onto the bench.

  He captured her wrist and brought it to his mouth. Pressed his lips to the faint blue-green vein beneath her satiny skin. “No. How about I towel you dry and carry you to your room?”