Alphas on Top

by Harper Sloan

  “Oh, well, um, I’ve been busy. You know, work, volunteering, moving. It’s been a crazy couple of months, you know.”

  Wincing, he takes his hand out of his pocket as he moves towards me. He slides the free hand around my waist and to the small of my back, pulling me into him. In a moment of weakness, I allow him to press his forehead to mine, and I can feel his minty breath on my skin. The familiarity of this embrace sends a shot straight to my heart, and I want to wrap my arms around him yet push him away at the same time.

  “Charlotte, baby, I love you. I fucked up so badly, and I wish I could take it back. I’m lost without you. Fucking lost. Please, let me show you that I mean it. I can’t live without you. Say you’ll give me—give us—another chance,” he whispers, his eyes pleading into mine.

  Shaking my head, I break away from his embrace. I could easily throw my arms around his neck, declare my love, and go about planning my wedding. But it wouldn’t be real. I love Drew, I really do. But I will never trust him, and I can’t build a relationship, let alone a marriage, without trust.

  Looking into his eyes one last time, I pull myself away from him completely, but it’s not easy. If he’d have said these things to me before, I might have relented and let him back in, but at the time I was too angry to even look at him. Angry that he took what was supposed to be a life-lasting bond built on love and trust and threw it away for a quick fuck. Angry that I spent years with a man who turned out to be nothing but a disappointment. Angry that I came so close to making the biggest mistake of my life. Now that I’ve had the time to process the emotions of his betrayal, the anger and hurt have faded, leaving me feeling thankful. I know that sounds weird, but you know the old saying, “A leopard never changes his spots”? I’m not saying I think Drew will always be a cheater, but there was a reason, whatever the hell it was, that I wasn’t enough for him. He did us both a favor when he decided to sleep with someone else, and even though I’ll never forget what he did to me, I do hope that he finds someone who can be his everything.

  “It’s too late for excuses, Drew. Besides, I’m kind of seeing someone.” I have no idea why I just lied to him, but maybe he’ll leave me alone if he thinks I’ve moved on. Wishful thinking, right?

  His jaw tightens as he frowns at me. Leaning down, he gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m not giving up on us, Charlie. I never will.” And with that, he turns around and leaves me alone and slightly flustered in the aisle to process what just happened.

  AFTER SEEING Drew, I made a special trip to the wine section and loaded up. Hey, if you buy a case, they give you ten percent off. Why pass up a good bargain? I’m finally heading back to Knox’s place—or well, I guess our place now. I don’t have to be out of Lucy’s apartment for another week, but she’s been getting her fill of Kale before she leaves, so I’ve decided to go ahead and start staying with him so she can have her privacy. And so I don’t have to wear earplugs every night.

  At this point, I’m just ready to throw my things in the guest room and settle in on the couch with a huge glass of wine. I’ve been sexually charged from the moment I woke up with Knox, and after hearing him groaning my name in the shower, I felt like I could explode with one touch. But now, after seeing Drew, I’m feeling a jumbled mess of emotions I don’t even want to begin to explore. Tonight I’m just going to relax and not think about any of it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself as I gather up the bags and make my way towards the house.

  This time Knox doesn’t come outside, which is fine since I only have a duffel bag, a couple of grocery sacks, and the two six-divider bags that are holding the wine. I have to lean my shoulder against the door and try to open it with my knee, but it’s not working. As soon as I’m about to set the bags down, the door opens and the duffel bag is pulled from my arms.

  “Dammit, Charlie, I still have one good arm, you know. You don’t have to do it all on your own,” he says, scowling at me. Oh great, Grump Con 2013 is again in full effect.

  I roll my eyes at him. “I’m not a willowy, wimpy woman, for your information. I think I can handle a few grocery bags. Jesus, what is it with you thinking I’m so weak?” I ask him, but without waiting for an answer, I head towards the kitchen to put the perishable items away. Everything else can wait as I scour his kitchen for a wine opener, finally finding one in the last drawer I look in.

  I uncork the red wine, and after finding a couple of wine glasses, I pour an ample amount for myself. I take a sip and relish the dry, full-bodied taste on my tongue. Swallowing, I moan, more than happy to feel the liquid flow down my throat after this very strange day. I hear a throat clear, and I open my eyes to see Knox leaning against the refrigerator, wearing nothing but a pair of low-rising basketball shorts. He’s watching me intently before he surprises me by closing the distance between us. I’m backed up against the counter, and he places his hands on each side of me.

  “I thought we were going to talk, roomie,” he whispers, one finger brushing the bangs out of my face. I shudder under his touch.

  Gulping, I take a huge drink of merlot. “Umm…talk? About what?” I ask him, my mind drawing a blank, even though the thought sounds familiar.

  He chuckles as his hand moves from my hair and traces my jawline. “Are you really that forgetful?” And it comes back to me. Oh, right. Remembering that he wanted to have a conversation about being roommates, I groan before taking another drink of my wine.

  Grinning at me, he pushes off the counter. He moves to the island where I left the wine and a second glass, and he pours himself one. After opening another bottle, he grabs his glass and the two open bottles and motions for me to join him in the living room. I follow silently, knowing we have to get this over with.

  For once he sits on the couch and not in the recliner, and when I look at him, he motions to the spot next to him. I follow, placing my wine on the coffee table next to his.

  He turns off the TV and looks at me. “Here’s the thing. If we’re going to be roommates, we probably should get to know each other a little bit, don’t you think?” he asks.

  I nod, agreeing.

  “Adult twenty questions? We can both ask each other any question, and we can either answer or take a drink to plead the Fifth? Sound good?” he proposes.

  I nod. “Sure, that works fine for me. You go first,” I tell him, taking a big gulp of wine, trying to flood my veins with liquid courage.

  “We’ll start out easy. How old are you, Charlie?” he asks, and I let out the breath that I was holding, not having expected such an easy question.

  “I’m twenty-seven. I’ll be twenty-eight in December. How about you?”

  “Twenty-nine. Closing in on thirty,” he says, his brows furrowing as if turning thirty would be some horrible disaster. Do guys actually care about things like that?

  I giggle as I take another sip of wine before setting it down on the coffee table. “Oh, yes, Knox, you’re getting soooo old,” I tease him, poking him in the arm.

  He grabs my finger and grips it, holding it tight. Bringing it to his lips, he gives it a soft kiss. I’m momentarily dazed at his tenderness, but then he winks at me and opens his mouth. “Now you’ll always be able to say you’ve been kissed by an old man.”

  I snatch my wine back up and take my finger back from him, but not before I let my fingernail scratch his lip, causing him to swear.

  “Okay, let’s talk about personal stuff later. Let’s get this rent business out of the way, okay? I feel guilty already staying here without having an agreement.”

  “Here’s the thing, Charlie. I really don’t need your money. You’re already helping me out, so I wouldn’t feel right charging you rent. Now, if you want to do other favors, I can think of a few forms of payment that are deemed acceptable,” he tells me, winking.

  Grabbing the pillow next to me, I throw it at his face. I have no idea if he’s teasing or if he’s serious, but when he knocks the pillow away, his gorgeous smile greets me playfully and I can’t help but smile
back at him, not able to hold the fake glare I was trying to muster.

  “Jesus, woman, I was kidding! But seriously, just chip in for groceries and we’re even.”

  I shake my head. “No freaking way, Knox. This started out as a volunteer assignment. If I move in here and you don’t let me pay because I’m helping you, then that would mean you’re basically paying for my services and I’m not just volunteering them. Even though you’re not exactly paying me in cash, you’re still providing something in exchange for my help, and that just doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t and I won’t do that. I’m probably already crossing the line by even agreeing to do this. So if I’m going to stay here, you need to figure out what you want to charge me or else I can just leave now.” I’m wishing I’d used a different choice of words, but he surprises me when he lets my services comment go.

  He stares at me for a moment before he takes a drink of his wine, exhaling slowly. “Okay, fine. I can’t argue with that, I guess. I’ll look at my statements tomorrow and come up with a fair rental price and then we can negotiate. Is that cool?”

  I nod, happy that he isn’t fighting me on this. To be honest, I have no idea how the volunteer organization would feel knowing that I’m moving in with him, but as long as I’m paying him and not volunteering in exchange for free housing, I don’t see the problem. I’m sure it’s probably a really tight rope that I’m walking here, but for some reason, I’m throwing caution to the wind and for once just going with my gut and doing what I want. Screw everything else. I just hope those words don’t come back to haunt me or bite me in the ass.

  “So we’ll make a deal tomorrow?” I ask him, just making sure that we’re both clear on this before moving on.

  He nods and reaches out to refill both of our wine glasses. Once he’s done, he holds his up to me in a toast fashion. I bring mine up to meet his and they chime as we clink them together.

  “To new roommates,” he says, smiling at me.

  Something about that smile causes my insides to melt, and it takes everything in me to return it without jumping him right here on the couch. “New roomies,” I whisper, and we both take a sip of our wine, staring at each other but saying nothing, quickly turning back to the television to distract us.

  SITTING IN my living room, drinking wine, and getting to know Charlie feels normal, and I can’t remember the last time I actually took the time to really get to know a girl. Most of the chicks I meet could care less about talking, and I’m not ashamed to say that I always felt the same. Hell, half the time I didn’t even remember their names the next day, a fact that is pretty shitty, but at the time, that’s all I wanted, and they always knew it was never going to be anything more than a hook-up. Right now, though, I want to know everything about Charlotte Davenport.

  I have to admit that I was pretty annoyed when she interrupted our twenty questions session to talk about rent and shit. It’s true that I don’t need her money, but I can understand why she wants to pay her way. I wanted to drop the subject so I just agreed, poured us each another glass, and raised mine in a celebratory toast.

  Neither of us says anything for a couple of minutes, and I’m about to break the silence when she rises from the couch.

  “I’m going to go figure out what’s for dinner. I haven’t eaten since brunch and that was hours ago. I’m starving, and if I keep drinking this on an empty stomach, I’ll end up passed out right here on the couch.”

  The thought of her getting drunk and needing me to take care of her is actually an appealing one. “Good thing you just moved in with a badass soldier. I can throw you over my shoulder and drop you off in the guest room—well, your room now—if that ever happens. The couch is comfortable, but not enough to sleep on all night,” I say, rising from my spot on the couch and moving towards her.

  “Yeah, well once you’re fully healed, you can show off your big, badass muscles, but for now, you aren’t lifting anything, especially not me,” she says, backing away from me and hurrying into the kitchen.

  Shaking my head, I try not to get irritated that she just brought up my weakened state—again. I know she’s not doing it on purpose, but I still can’t help being annoyed by the constant reminder, even if she’s just trying to look out for me.

  When I follow her, I find her bent over in front of the refrigerator, holding the door open and staring at the contents inside. The way her ass is sticking out unleashes something inside me, and I go semi-hard just from watching her. I instantly feel the need to show her that I’m not some weak, damaged man. I walk up behind her and grab her by the waist, turning her around. Kicking the door shut behind me, I push her to the island. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d be pressing myself up against her so she could feel what she’s doing to me. She’s staring up at me with confusion in her big, brown eyes, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

  “Hop up,” I tell her, and she complies immediately, surprising me by not fighting it.

  I place my hands on her knees, spreading them and stepping closer to her so my hips are between her legs. As best as I can, I take hold of each one and wrap them around my waist. She involuntarily tightens them around my middle, although her ass is still firmly planted on the counter. This isn’t how I imagined her legs wrapped around me for the first time, but I can’t deny that I love the feel of her gripping my waist tightly.

  “Arms around my neck, sweetheart.” The confused expression on her face deepens, but she does as she’s told.

  “What are you doing, Knox?” she asks, looking up at me, her face only inches from mine.

  Swallowing hard, I ignore her question and bring my forehead to hers. “Just do this for me, okay? Don’t fight me on it. Just this once. I need to do this.”

  She nods, and I’m not sure she knows what to expect, confirming it when I pull her off the counter. Gasping, she starts to struggle, and I have to brace myself against the counter to keep from falling. Jesus, this woman is so damn difficult, and it can be both sexy as hell and annoyingly irritating.

  “Knox, what the hell?! Put me down!”

  Fuck. I know I should probably listen to her, but I’ve gotten to this point and I’m not stopping until I can prove to myself, and to her, that I haven’t completely lost all of my strength. She’s not exactly heavy, but her struggling is making it difficult to keep my one good arm around her as I make my way down the hallway, heading into the guest bedroom. Somewhere along the way she stops struggling, apparently having given up and figuring that it’s just easier to let me do this.

  I’m slightly out of breath by the time I get to her bed, and I’m more than happy to release her from my arms. Relief washes over me when she plops on the bed, bouncing once. I’m not sure whether the relief is from having been able to do it or from having freed myself of her weight. Either way, I’m fucking ecstatic, and even though I’m breathing heavily, it was a small victory for me and my bruised ego.

  I begin backing away from her because I know the verbal assault is coming. I don’t blame her, but I don’t regret it.

  “Don’t worry about dinner tonight. I’m gonna order pizza if that’s cool with you. That way we can just hang out,” I say, trying to act like what just happened was no big deal, hoping she’ll do the same. But I’m mentally rejoicing, feeling a little better knowing that I can still carry a hot girl to bed. For a brief moment, I thought I wasn’t going to be able to make it, and I’m not sure my ego could’ve taken a failure like that, especially with Charlie as a witness. I’m struggling to keep from grinning like an idiot and flexing my muscles like a body builder on a testosterone high.

  She’s just staring at me, not responding as she sits on the bed. I decide to leave the room and go do as I said. It’s a few minutes before she comes back out to the living room, where she sits on the coffee table directly in front of me. Placing her hands on my knees, she leans in close to me, and I’m prepared to take whatever she has to give because I know she’s probably pissed.

  “I guess I was
wrong. Even after being inactive and injured for over two months, you are still strong enough to haul my ass around. And I’m not little, so that’s pretty damn impressive,” she says, surprising me.

  That was the last thing that I was expecting. I was waiting for a verbal tongue lashing or at least a parental-like scolding, but her telling me it was impressive? Yeah, I’m shocked as shit. And proud as hell. I thought I was more trying to prove a point to her and to myself when I did that, but looking back on it, maybe I was trying to impress her at the same time. I don’t want her thinking I’m some weak guy, and the way she’s been acting made me think that she did. Until now.

  “Thanks, sweetheart, but you’ve seen nothing yet. Give me two months back in the gym and I’ll really be able to impress.” The cocky douche in me comes out before I can even stop it, and she rolls her eyes at me before turning serious-faced again.

  “I know what you were doing, and once I figured it out, I just let you go ahead with it. Consider your point proven. That being said, don’t ever do anything like that to me again. At least not until you have full clearance from the doctor. You and I both know that Dr. Branch said you couldn’t lift anything more than ten pounds, and I outweigh that by about 130, so I’m definitely off-limits.”

  I start to interrupt her to let her know it was a one-time thing, but she holds her hand up to stop me. “I know I’ve never been in your shoes, but I have been in the position where I’ve been injured and not been able to do my daily workouts. I understand how it feels to be cooped up, helpless, and weak. What happened to you was awful, Knox, and I know you’re itching to get back in the gym, back to work, and back to your normal life. I know having me around is a reminder that you can’t do it all on your own right now, but please don’t look at it that way. Forget why I’m here. All that matters now is that you have a new roommate who is conveniently around to do the things that you can’t. And when you’re given the go-ahead, I’ll be right there with you working through your rehabilitation so you can eventually throw me around like a sack of potatoes. But let’s wait to do that so we don’t potentially worsen your injuries, okay?”