Alpha Crusher: A BWWM Romance Novella

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  “Yes, I’ll be fine. I hurt myself at work yesterday afternoon, and rubbing it against the glass must’ve aggravated it. It’s okay.” She picked up a paper napkin from the table and applied pressure to her hand, and a look of distress covered her beautiful face.

  I lifted her hand up and surveyed the bruise. It definitely wasn’t okay. She needed to get this treated by a doctor, and it should have happened yesterday.

  “Mira, this cut needs medical treatment. This is not something you can wait on to heal. It’s red and swollen, so it’s probably infected,” I said, urging her to take this cut more seriously.

  "It’s just a scratch, Levine," she said nonchalantly. “It’ll close in no time.”

  “No, there could be glass or something inside of it that’s causing it to swell. You have to treat it with antibiotics at this point. Trust me, you need to see a doctor,” I said, slipping my phone out of my pocket.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “I said it’s fine.”

  “Excuse me for a moment.” I stood up and strolled out of the restaurant while dialing my doctor’s number. “I have an emergency, doc,” I said when he answered the call.

  “Good evening, sir. Where are you?”

  “Come to the house right away.”

  I disconnected the call without giving him a chance to reply. I went back inside and approached our table, realizing Mira was arguing with the waiter.

  “No, I didn’t order any of this, so take it back!” Mira yelled at the poor guy who was green-faced as if he was sick.

  He looked at me, hoping I would save him from Mira’s tongue lashing. I sympathized with the poor guy. “What is the problem here?” I asked.

  She turned her seething stare on me. “Did you place an order for me?”

  "Yes, I did," I said and turned to the waiter. "Pack our meals. We’re leaving."

  “Yes, sir,” the waiter said and scurried away, happy to get away from Mira’s wrath.

  “You know, I’m an adult. I don’t need anyone to order for me. You don’t know me or what I like to eat,” Mira fussed.

  “I had a little help with finding out what you like. Georgiana told me what you usually eat here.”

  Mira’s mouth gaped open, but she remained silent as I picked up her handbag and pulled her to her feet.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “We’re leaving. Come on,” I said.

  “Is the dinner over just like that?” she asked.

  “I’ve paid for our meals already, and the waiter will bring them to me outside.”

  She grabbed her bag from me and headed toward the door. Everyone in the diner was staring at us, but I didn’t care. I walked out of the restaurant and grabbed her hand as she headed toward the parking lot.

  “Let go of me!” she said, spinning on her heels. The fire in her eyes nearly burned me to a crisp. “Why did you invite me here if you knew there’s someplace you have to be?”

  The waiter walked to us and stood at a safe distance. A valet brought my car around to where we were standing in the parking lot, and I opened the door. I still had a firm grip on Mira.

  “What are you doing? Let go of me,” she cried out.

  “I’m holding onto you because I’m afraid you’ll run away, and I need you to trust me,” I said. “I wouldn’t do anything to you, especially after the scene that just played out in the restaurant. I would be a prime suspect if anything happened to you.” I opened the passenger door of my car, and she started to protest when I said, “Get in, please.”

  "I brought my own car," she said and pointed to her black Dodge Durango. “Why would I ride with you when I have my own transportation?”

  “Your car will be safe here. I just want you to ride with me somewhere.”

  "First tell me where we are going?"

  “It’s a surprise, Mira, and I promise to behave. Get in.” I didn’t tell her about the doctor because I was sure she wouldn’t come with me if she knew what I was doing.

  She looked at me suspiciously, raising a brow and prying her good hand from mine so she could cross her arms over her chest. “I don’t know about you, Levine.”

  “Ward.”

  “Yeah, Ward. You’re up to something,” she said, sliding into my car while searching my eyes to see if she could figure me out. “This had better be on the up and up,” she warned. “Or there is no more Nice Mira.”

  If this was “Nice Mira,” I didn’t want to meet the other bitch living inside of her. I stepped back, collected the carrier bag from the waiter, and got into the car relieved she didn’t elope.

  “First, you ordered my meal without consulting me, and now you are forcing me to go someplace with you. Is this how you handle women, Ward Levine?”

  If only she knew how far this was from the norm. I didn’t ask any woman twice to spend time with me. They came along quietly and willingly.

  “No,” I replied, then started the car and pressed play on the radio. “This is not how it usually goes.”

  Nat King Cole's voice filled the car. She tilted her head in agreement with the music choice and visibly relaxed. Her expression softened a bit, and she started to hum along.

  “You like jazz music too?” she asked.

  I arched a brow. “Are you surprised?”

  “Where are you taking me?” she returned to her original line of questioning, showing she still felt uneasy riding with me. “I feel like kicking you below the belt right now.”

  I laughed.

  “That’s quite a strange fantasy,” I grinned. “If I had my way I would take you over my knees and spank your cute ass,” I said.

  She looked away and brought her phone out of her bag.

  “Put the phone away,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like people talking over music. Music is to be enjoyed.”

  "You are impossible," she said and started typing on her phone. “I’m texting Joe to let him know you’ve kidnapped me.”

  I threw back my head and laughed. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time, and it felt good when she giggled a little.

  “What makes you like jazz?” I asked.

  “My daddy,” she replied, and her gaze went blank.

  When I Fall in Love started to play, and loneliness crept into her eyes as if she was remembering an old memory.

  “When I fall in love, it will be forever, or I’ll never fall in love,” she sang along with the track, and the sweetest soulful sounds flowed from her soft lips. I was amazed at how good she sounded singing along with Nat King Cole.

  “In a restless world like this, love is ended before it’s begun,” I joined her, and she stopped singing. “Is that what happened to you?” I asked.

  She sighed heavily. Her shoulders relaxing against the seat and her head tilted to the side so that she could stare at the cars passing by.

  "That's what happened to my parents. My dad used to play that song every morning, and me and my mother would sing along."

  “Are you the type of woman who gives her heart forever?” I asked.

  “Are you the type of man who never falls in love and never gives his heart?” she retorted, and there her past was coming into the car and overpowering our connection. “Let’s just listen to the music and not get personal. Nat King Cole has said it all,” she said.

  “Are you close to them?” I asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your parents.”

  “No, not really. I haven’t seen them in years.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  "Sometimes," she said.

  I drove into my driveway and parked the car. “Welcome to my humble abode!”

  “Why did you bring me to your house, Ward?” Her voice once again raised an octave.

  I gently picked up her bruised hand and began to rub over the warm, sore area. “I brought you here because you are hurt, and I don’t want to see you hurt. My doctor is on his way.”

  She glanced down at her hand and back
up at me. Her lips pursed, and her cute button nose flared. There was a sparkle the light shade of hazel in her brown eyes. She looked beautiful when she was upset, and I wanted to kiss her lips until they bruised.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Ward. I don’t need to see a doctor.” She put her hand on her purse and winced in pain over the contact.

  “Yes, you do. Now, come inside, and let’s eat our dinner while we wait for the doctor.”

  Chapter Five

  Mira

  Ward reminded me of everything I had tried so hard to forget. He made me talk about my past without even realizing it. The memories of my dad I had tried so hard over the years to forget, Ward brought them back with a song.

  I paced up and down his living room as I waited for the doctor to arrive. Ward wouldn't let me leave until I was treated. According to him, I was hurt. Yesterday, at a site inspection, I accidentally grazed my finger against a protruding nail. The bruise was so small at first that I forgot to put a bandage on it. But throughout the day, it got worse. I had so much work to do that I just pressed through and tried not to think about it. Then, when I ran my hand along the brim of that glass at the restaurant, it felt as if I’d been stung by a yellowjacket. Now, I had Ward on my back about seeing his doctor.

  “Have some of this; it will calm you down,” he said, extending a glass of red wine to me.

  “I don’t want to be poisoned,” I said, eyeing the glass suspiciously.

  Who did he think he was bringing me here against my will and then offering me wine? I wasn’t trying to wake up the next morning with all my goodies in his bag.

  “I didn’t bring you here to do anything against your will, so no poison,” he said with a charming smile. “I just want my doctor to treat your hand. Will you let me do that for you?”

  “Finally, a question that gives me control over my own body.” I huffed, though I did get in his car, and at this very moment I couldn’t explain why.

  Ward’s phone rang, and he walked away from me. He left the room to take the call, and when he returned, he looked exhausted. He didn’t look like his usual confident self. Instead, he seemed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I didn’t want to care, but I worried about him. I was about to ask if he was alright when the doorbell chimed.

  Ward answered the door, and a short man walked in carrying a briefcase in his hand. The man looked like someone in his late forties. Ward talked to him in a low tone, and they both glanced at me, so I knew they were discussing me. The man seemed a bit frightened, and the look of terror on his face increased my anxiety. I couldn’t imagine what Ward had said to the poor man.

  “Dr. Williams,” Ward said.

  “Mr. Levine,” the doctor replied in a shaky voice.

  “Mira, this is Dr. Williams, he will treat your cut.” Ward leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear, “I could have kissed it and made it feel better, but I called a doctor. Am I still the bad guy here?”

  I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off by the doctor. “Hi, Miss,” he said in a low sincere tone.

  “Hello, and nice to meet you, Dr. Williams, but all of this is unnecessary. It’s just a small scratch,” I said.

  “Go ahead and treat her doc,” Ward said.

  “Yes, sir,” the doctor said like a humble servant.

  I raised a brow watching their interaction.

  “Excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back,” Ward said, leaving the room with stress lines invading his otherwise handsome face.

  The doctor sighed in relief upon Ward’s absence, and I began to relax so the scared man could do his job. He inspected my hand, treated it with antiseptics and skin glue, and put a bandage on it. It felt better when he was done, but I wouldn’t say that to Ward.

  "Thank you, Dr. Williams."

  “You are welcome, Miss. I didn’t see anything in it like glass or woodchips, so I closed it loosely. It doesn’t look infected right now, but it’s an angry sore, so here’s a prescription for some antibiotics to fight infection.,” the doctor replied.

  I took the prescription from him and thanked him again. After a few more minutes, Ward came back into the room, and the doctor mumbled some words to him and hurriedly left.

  “What did you do to the poor man? He acts as if you’re in the mafia and he’s on the payroll,” I said, laughing.

  “Who says I’m not?” Ward said with a straight face.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

  “No, I’m not in the mafia, Mira.” Ward threw his head back in laughter. “A few months back, I had appendicitis, and I had to spend a few days in the hospital after the surgery. Let’s just say it wasn't a fun experience for the doctors or nurses on duty. I can only imagine that he doesn’t want to be on that side of me ever again."

  “The poor man looks like he’s about to pass a stone the size of a brick every time you look at him,” I said.

  “Yeah…” Ward agreed, his voice fading.

  Suddenly, he looked sad with the same aura he had when he’d left the room to take his phone call earlier. Seeing the pain in his eyes made my heart go out to him at that moment. I didn’t know anything about his personal life. I had his business profile on my desk in the office, but who was Ward Levine, the man? There was no ring on his finger, and even though he had a lovely home, it had no feminine touch to it. Did he really have a girlfriend? What kind of women did he like? I figured he was the type that liked dumb blondes with an over-sized chest.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” he said, breaking into my thoughts.

  “Who are you?” I went straight to the point.

  He ran his tongue over his lips, making them look juicy and wet.

  “I’m Ward Levine.”

  “I know that. I mean—” I paused, gathering myself. Did I really want to get personal with him? “Never mind,” I said quickly.

  “The food will get cold. Let’s sit down and eat,” Ward said.

  “No, thank you, Mr. Controller! You got me here under the pretense of seeing a doctor. Now that I have seen him, how about you take me back to my car?” Staying in his house alone with him was not an option.

  “I will after you sit down and eat.”

  “No. Unlike the doctor, I’m not on your payroll. I don’t have to do what you say.”

  He grinned at me and started to laugh. He had beautiful laughter, and it was rich, deep, and full of life.

  “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

  “Actually, you are on my payroll now,” he said.

  I picked up my bag and headed for the door.

  “I was on your payroll, but I resign. You can take your project to another construction company,” I said.

  “Hey, stay for dinner. Okay? That’s all I want, Mira.”

  “Have you ever heard of the word ‘please,’” I asked.

  He sucked in a breath and walked toward me. Something seemed to change between us at that moment, and I could feel my mouth watering for another one of his kisses. Electricity filled the air when he stood in my space, and we were breathing in the same air. His masculine scent and cologne crowded me, and my throat suddenly felt dry. He lowered his head, and my lips parted. My body was betraying me.

  “Please stay. I would love it if we could have dinner together,” he said, his breath entering mine as he spoke.

  "Ward, let’s be honest with each other," I said, my breathing feeling labored as he gazed down into my eyes.

  “Yes,” he replied huskily.

  “You want to get into my panties. It’s obvious,” I said. And I want to let you inside.

  “Yes,” he said throatily. “But I want to kiss you too.”

  “It’s just lust…” I said. “Your kisses will mean nothing to me, and they never will.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything to me either,” he said in a husky voice.

  He placed my head on his chest and wrapped his hands around my waist, filling my body with his warmth. He kissed my neck and trailed sweet kisses down to
my collarbones. I kissed his jaw, nibbling gently on his lips. I traced my tongue along the contours of his lips and slipped my tongue into his mouth. I controlled the kiss and the pace, sucking on his tongue as my hands slid under his shirt. He broke off the kiss and rubbed his hands on my buttocks, cupping them. Then, he trailed his fingers along the seam of my lips, sending ripples of pleasure through my body. My nipples hardened and started to throb as he pressed his lips to mine. My eyelids fluttered downwards as his tongue slipped into my mouth.

  He had the build of an athlete, all muscles. He was broad-shouldered with a tight chest and toned stomach with muscular thighs. He had the perfect body. He was ruggedly handsome, but I knew his type; once he had what he wanted, he would vanish into thin air.

  I was attracted to him, who wouldn't be? And I hadn't been with a man for three years. How far did I want to let this go? Could I control this?

  I swallowed hard as his hands sneaked under my blouse. He rubbed his thumb on my pebbled nipples, and a sigh escaped my lips. He deepened the kiss, sucking on the roof of my mouth and kissing every crevice of my mouth. No man had ever made me feel this way before; this kiss was so intense and powerful that I didn’t even know when he stepped away from me. I glanced at him, and he had a mocking smile on his face. I wiped the back of my bandaged hand across my lips and smirked.

  “Now, I have taken back the kiss you stole from me,” I said. “It means nothing to me, and it never will.”

  I grabbed his car keys off the sofa.

  “Wait. Those are my keys,” he groaned.

  “Don’t worry. Your car is safe with me,” I said and walked out the front door. When I looked up, Ward was standing in his front door looking aroused and absolutely yummy.

  I climbed into his car, backed out of his yard, and drove away.

  Chapter Six

  Ward

  I want to have her in my bed, but I want to be honest with her.

  Gosh, where was that thought coming from? I didn’t just want to get into her panties and move on. That thought no longer appealed to me. My heart squeezed with pain whenever I thought of life without her. I still didn’t know if I wanted to have a committed relationship with her, but I wanted to have her in my life for more than a few weeks. I wanted to wake up next to her, maybe not every day, but I wanted her around. I wanted to know everything about her, what made her laugh, what turned her on. I wanted to discover the erogenous spots on her body. I wanted her. Everything about her.