Alphas on Top

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Alphas on Top Page 127

by Harper Sloan


  For two days now, I just lie here, thinking about what would have happened had I not walked in. Would we still be getting married? Nothing can bring me out of this terrible place. Pepper tries, but she can’t even begin to even touch the depths of where I am now.

  School doesn’t matter. Food sucks. Hygiene? What’s that? She keeps threatening to call my mom but all I hear is “blah, blah, blah”. Whatever.

  He keeps texting me, but how can I begin to ever even talk to him? I’m afraid if I see him that I’ll just run right to his arms, hoping he’ll make it all better. But I know deep down that isn’t right. If he did it once, he’ll probably do it again. God, my heart hurts so fucking bad!

  I guess I’ll just cry myself to sleep…again.

  Present

  “Come on, Andi! I don’t have all day. Some of us have been ready for hours,” Pepper called to me from the living room. Of course she’d been ready for hours. She was wearing jeans and a sweater for crying out loud, and it probably took two minutes to readjust her bun.

  “Perfection takes time,” I told Olive, who was sitting on my bed while I applied the last of my makeup. “You sure you don’t want to go with us, hon?” I asked, turning to look at her. Olive was our new friend. She was a gorgeous black girl with legs that went on for miles. Her hair was smooth as silk and her eyes were the palest orbs that contrasted vividly against her chocolate skin.

  Olive moved in with us about a month ago. She somehow managed to escape an extremely abusive relationship but had nowhere to go. When I found her crying at the café one day, I took her under my wing, praying Pepper would be okay with it. Of course Pepper fell in love with the leggy chocolate goddess as well, and she’d been living with us ever since.

  Olive got modeling gigs left and right because she was perfection personified. But her fears of her ex sometimes cripple her socially. A lot of times. Like tonight, she was adamantly shaking her head to my offer. She had a fear that she might run into Drake and he’d drag her away from us, never to be seen again. It always gave me the shivers to think about what he must have done to her to make her so afraid. And the fact that she refused to ever let us see her without being fully clothed made me wonder if he’d done something to her body. Just the thought made me sick to my stomach.

  The modeling jobs she took were mostly for magazines. She absolutely refused to do any live modeling at shows even though that would have been the best way for her to get noticed by more well-known agents. Olive gave us money when she got paid on these jobs, but we never asked her for any. We just wanted our girl safe with us.

  I didn’t make much money at the café so Pepper was our breadwinner. Well, if you call having a monthly trust fund “breadwinning” then she was definitely it. Her dad was a high-powered attorney there in the city and didn’t want his little girl to hurt for anything. We lived in a sweet little apartment and didn’t hurt for much either thanks to Pepper being “Daddy’s Little Girl.” Oh, and she played the part so well. The girl could be downright bitchy, but when—Daddy—was around, her voice was as sweet as sugar.

  Thankfully, I was going to start my new job on Monday and would be able to help Pepper out more than just buying the groceries. Even though her dad took care of a lot for us, I still felt guilty about being a total freeloader. Today was my last day at the café and now we were going to celebrate. It took several months after college of applying all over the city to finally land a job at Compton Enterprises. The job I really wanted was to be an architect, but working as an assistant at an architectural firm was a good foot in the door. Everyone has to start somewhere.

  “One day I’ll go with you guys. But it’s just too soon. Please have fun for me. I have a date with American Idol,” she smiled at me.

  “Okay, fine. But I’m holding you to it. Now, how do I look?” I asked her, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

  Ever since the day I found Brayden cheating on me, something in me snapped. Gone was the blond-haired innocent. Gone was my optimism. My outlook on life and love had been ruined the moment I saw that girl’s big tits bouncing as she rode my man. He had stolen it all away from me when he decided to sleep with some bimbo after almost four years of dating.

  Now, I was this hard, jaded woman. Away had gone my conservative ways and I had welcomed my inner skank. I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. My platinum-blond hair was flat-ironed perfectly straight halfway down my back. I had carefully made up my face, complete with smoky eyes and plump red lips. The dress I chose to wear was black, tight, and short. Just the way I liked it. The plunging neckline revealed my adequate cleavage. My red pumps put me up three inches higher than my five foot seven frame.

  “You look beautiful as always, Andi,” Olive genuinely assured, making me smile at her.

  I was in “Man-Killer Mode” as Pepper called it. I’d have them falling at my feet tonight. One of them would get lucky too. I was on the prowl, and even Pepper wouldn’t be able to tame me. This Friday night was about to get crazy.

  “Thanks, babe. See you in the morning,” I waved to her as I grabbed my clutch and walked out my bedroom door. Pepper was curled up in the recliner reading a book. “Let’s go, bitch,” I told her as I shrugged into my coat.

  “About time, bitch,” she shot at me, picking up hers from the back of the chair as she stood up. Man-Killer Mode: Activated.

  A dark two weeks…

  Today, I am absolutely sick to my stomach. Not eating hardly anything for several days straight has sent my body into a tailspin. My head throbs, I’m weak, my body hurts, and now I am throwing up. Pepper told me earlier that things were getting out of control, that she was going to drag me out of the bed if I didn’t get my act together soon. I just flipped her off and threw the covers over my head.

  Thankfully, I was caught up on all of my classes before the “incident.” I was really just waiting to take my finals. I have worked my ass off for four years. Surely I can take the week off without catching flak from Pepper. Wishful thinking.

  My heart still hurts so fucking bad. I keep playing reruns over and over again of “what-ifs”. Every scenario ends the same. Bray is a cheater. He even had the nerve to come to my dorm room, but luckily Pepper ran interference.

  Hearing his voice successfully caused me to break down all over again. He was begging her. She was cussing him out. I was sobbing uncontrollably.

  Will it ever get better? I’ll never be able to love or trust again. Brayden was it for me. Now I have nothing.

  The cab ride only took ten minutes since the new bar we wanted to go to was just a few blocks away. On the way there, I thought about how my life had gone from spending every weekend with my fiancé to sleeping with a different guy each weekend instead. Since Bray had left me a broken mess with his infidelity, I woke up one morning needing a different way to live. The way I could cope was to sleep around with successful, hot men and drop them before either of us could get invested emotionally. It made for exciting weekends full of free dinners and lots of unattached sex.

  In the last five months, I had morphed into this succubus—taking their energy and keeping it for my own. And I loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, there were always the guys who would seem genuinely hurt when the weekend was over. Thus—our little escapades would effectively be over too. Somehow I was a bitch and a whore even though the little shits knew from the get-go what to expect. Pepper said that I needed help. I thought I was doing just fine. My heart never hurt anymore, that’s for damn sure.

  Once we had graduated and moved into Pepper’s apartment, she had gotten a job at the museum as an assistant production manager. Her degree was actually being put to some use. I was still whipping up lattes and running out deli sandwiches to a busy crowd. Finally, though, things were looking up, because I had successfully ended my last day at the café today and would embark on my future on Monday. My interview had gone great at Compton Enterprises. The owner of the company, Jordan Compton, was who I would be assisting. He�
�d told me that the ability to advance at the company was available if I were willing to work for it. I was eager to finally start my career after all these months since graduation.

  When the cab stopped, I paid the driver and we got out. For a moment, we drank in the atmosphere of the new bar. Dempsey’s was glowing above the entrance in red—promising a new tantalizing adventure. I’d heard that it was an Irish pub-like bar that was modern and cool. They’d only been open a few weeks and had already hosted some great local bands. Tonight, a new local favorite, The Remains, were supposed to be playing.

  When I walked to the entrance, the meaty-looking guy checked our IDs and grumbled, “Twenty-dollar cover each.”

  “What the fuck?” Pepper exclaimed. “Twenty dollars just to let me in the door and then I still have to pay you to drink the damn alcohol?” She was glaring at him, pissed at the overpriced cover fee.

  Just as I was about to tell Pepper to chill out, another man whispered into Meathead’s ear, causing him to frown. “Nevermind. You’ve been paid for,” he muttered gruffly, stepping aside so we could pass. I looked down at my very naked, very long legs. Score one for Andi. Smiling at Meathead, we entered the bar.

  The smells instantly intoxicated me as we walked in. The mix of smoke, lager, and an oaky smell permeated my senses. Clearly the band hadn’t come on yet because all that could be heard was the dull roar of people talking. The bar was quite spacious, and it exuded richness. The tables and barstools all were dark mahogany. I looked around and noticed that the walls were lined in mahogany paneling from floor to ceiling. I almost thought this place could be a library at a really rich person’s house.

  Grabbing Pepper’s hand, I walked her over to the bar so we could get drinks. The many hungry stares as we passed didn’t go unnoticed, and I shivered at how it excited me. Knowing that I could have whatever man I wanted in here made me feel powerful. I’d be fucking one of these poor souls in just a few hours. I smiled as I scanned the crowd.

  When we got to the bar, I squeezed between two barstools so I could tell the bartender our order. When he came over, I drank in his piercings, tattoos, and Irish accent.

  “What can I get you two lovely ladies?”

  “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan and a Cape Cod,” I told him. He winked at me and went over to make our drinks. He was pretty good-looking, but if I ever wanted to come back to this bar again, I’d have to pass this one up.

  “When do The Remains come on?” Pepper asked, looking over at the empty stage.

  “In fifteen minutes,” the gravelly voiced bartender told us as he handed us our drinks. I pulled out a twenty to pay for our drinks, but he held up a hand, stopping me. “Ladies, I would pretty much say every drink you want for the rest of the night will be free. I just had several different guys say that they wanted to buy your drinks,” he laughed.

  I smiled and thanked him before Pepper and I made our way to the stage. We sat at a tall table near the stage as two people vacated it. Pepper pushed the still smoking ashtray away from us and brought her Cape Cod to her lips to take a sip. “This place is nice, Andi. I’m glad we came. However, I kind of feel like we’re at a meat market and we’re big, juicy steaks,” she reported, snidely rolling her eyes at the guys a table over who were blatantly ogling us.

  “Pepper, just enjoy the free drinks and attention. We’ll find some nice guys to take home later,” I teased, winking at her. She just stuck her tongue at me. I liked to mess with her, knowing that she would not, in fact, be taking a guy home. Pepper didn’t warm up to people very easily. Olive and I were probably her only friends of either sex. She was serious and bitchy. I loved it about her, but others couldn’t handle it. For as long as I’d known Pepper, she’d never dated anyone at all. If I had to guess, I’d bet she was still a virgin. And quite honestly, I thought she had a hard time finding people that could match her intellectual wit. They only bored her when they came up short.

  “Hello, ladies,” a blond-haired guy in a tight t-shirt greeted as he walked up to our table. He had a cute face and he looked pretty buff. This might work.

  “Well, hello yourself,” I purred as I leaned forward, giving him a straight view down my cleavage. His eyes widened as he stepped closer to enjoy the view from a better vantage point. Pepper’s sigh could be heard nearby.

  “What are two beautiful ladies doing sitting here all alone?” he asked, laying down his cheesy pick-up line. I winced—only slightly—because it was already turning me off. But sex was sex. As long as I kept his mouth occupied with other things, I could avoid the things that might come out of it.

  Clearly already annoyed, Pepper huffed out, “I’m going to the bathroom.” She stormed off, leaving me with Blondie.

  “Have a seat, good-looking,” I drawled out, matching his cheesiness. He grinned back at me with his perfect white teeth and sat down.

  “A woman, like yourself, and I could have a damn good time, if you know what I mean,” he suggested, promising a good fuck.

  I took a long sip of my drink and looked up at him under my eyelashes. “Is that so, handsome? Well, then by all means, I’d like to see what you mean.”

  He shifted in his chair, clearly excited at my answer. “Well let’s get out of here, beautiful,” he suggested, smiling.

  “Okay, we can get right to it. But we need to go over the rules first,” I declared, voice matter of fact, as I went into business mode. He sat back in his chair, looking at me questioningly. “First of all, it’s just fucking. Nothing more. Secondly, you get three nights of it. Just three. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. You will love every second of it. After we’re finished on the third night, you go away. Done. It’s simple and easy. Are you game?”

  His eyes had grown to the size of saucers as he just stared at me, open-mouthed and shocked that a woman would insinuate such a proposition.

  Rolling my eyes, already getting bored, I asked him one more time, “Are you game? Do you want to play by my rules?” He glanced up behind me and slid out of his chair, stalking off. What the hell? Loser. He couldn’t handle what I had to give anyway.

  Before I could start searching out my next victim, I felt the heat of someone’s body leaning behind me. The deep voice that whispered hot breath into my ear sent a shockwave right down to my core when he said, “I want to play.”

  I shuddered at the sheer sexiness of his growled words. Please let this one be hot, I thought, because I could almost just get off on his voice alone. “Is that so? You think my game sounds fun?” I solicited, egging him on but still not turning around to see him. A big, masculine hand snaked around me and settled on my upper thigh, rubbing a thumb just under the hemline of my dress. My body shivered with need as I realized just how close his thumb was to the aching, throbbing part of me in my really short dress.

  I dropped my head to the side, allowing my hair to cascade behind me giving him full access to my neck. My bait. And just like the good little player I knew he would be, he brushed his lips up my neck to just under my ear, where he pecked me, short and sweet. Between his lips on my neck and the thumb running a delicious pattern just under my dress, I was ready for him to throw me across the table and fuck me like nobody else was in the room.

  About that moment, I saw Pepper walking back toward the table, glaring at my overt sexuality. Before she reached the table, the voice whispered, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll find you again in a bit. We have a game to play.” And as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared.

  “What the fuck, Andi? You looked like you were about two seconds away from letting Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome finger you in the fucking bar!” she shouted at me. Slowly coming out of my sexual haze, I spun around to look for him. There was nothing but a large crowd building around the stage. No Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

  “Pepper, I am going to fuck the shit out that man tonight,” I told her dreamily. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome dripped with sexuality and I wanted to drink it up. At this point, even if he was ugly, I’d just have him do me from be
hind. What?

  Before she could scold me anymore, we were interrupted by the sound of a guitar. The Remains had finally taken stage. A waitress stopped at our table and dropped off two more drinks for us. “These are compliments of Jackson,” she said to me like I should have known who that was. After we thanked her, we sat back to enjoy the show.

  “Thanks Jackson!” Pepper and I giggled to each other.

  The Remains were amazing. They were a local band that had the edginess of old ‘90s grunge bands but swoon-worthy lyrics that I’d expected to hear from more recent bands. The crowd was wild for them. After an hour of playing, they finally said their goodbyes and left the stage.

  “That was awesome!” Pepper told me, no longer pissed at me.

  “I’m going to go to the ladies’ room. Get us another round of drinks,” I ordered as I strode away from the table. Being a thin blonde who was scantily clad, I was used to the stares of men all around. I drank it up because it did miracles for my self-esteem that Bray had managed to damage.

  Before I reached the hallway to the restrooms, I felt his eyes on me. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I scanned the area to see if I could pick him out from the crowd. Not seeing him anywhere, I tossed my hair back and breezed into the bathroom. I couldn’t wait for my little player to find me so we could start our game. This was the first time I had actually found excitement in my game to this degree. Sure, it was fun and carefree, but something about his voice had promised a lot more than just fun. I couldn’t wait.

  I walked out of the bathroom and down the hallway but stopped to look at a picture on the wall. It was absolutely gorgeous, a stunning collection of buildings with clean lines and asymmetrical perfection. The photographer had captured the beauty of the buildings. My architectural mind wanted to continue to appreciate it, but a voice behind me ripped me away from those thoughts.

 

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