Alphas on Top

by Harper Sloan

  He began thrusting into me, quickly making my orgasm sneak back up on me. The slapping of our bodies made a beautiful sound as we both neared the edge of coming.

  “Jackson, I’m going to come again!” I shouted as he continued to pound into me. Just as internal fire overcame me, signaling the start of my orgasm, he groaned and slowed his thrusting. My aftershocks clenched around his cock making us to flinch with each one.

  When it finally stopped, he chuckled. “Woman, you are so fucking sexy. We just finished and I’m counting down until we can do it again. You are amazing,” he praised. Yes, this I know, thank you very much, but thank you for the ego boost.

  “Thanks. You aren’t so bad yourself,” I joked, grinning at him.

  Pulling off of me, he strode into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I jumped up and started redressing, realizing it was getting late. Earlier, I had promised Olive that we’d go grocery shopping together tomorrow. She hated to go by herself. Considering she had stayed home tonight, I’d need to get some sleep if I had any hope of getting up at the crack of dawn with Olive.

  When he came back out of the bathroom and saw me dressed, he frowned.

  “Jackson, I need to leave but we can certainly meet up again tomorrow. It’s been fun,” I assured him, smiling.

  “Andi, it’s late. Please, stay here tonight,” he said, the frown still on his face.

  “Jackson, I only live about ten minutes from here. It’ll be fine. Here, let me see your phone. I’ll text myself so you’ll have it and we can set something up for tomorrow,” I protested, sighing because he was starting to be a tad difficult.

  “Fine, but George is taking you home. You are not taking a cab at this time of night alone,” he bellowed, eyes challenging mine. I rolled my eyes, conceding. He let out a breath and called George. “George, I’ll need you here to take Andi home. I don’t want her taking a cab. Yes, fifteen minutes is fine,” he agreed and hung up. Reaching over, I snatched his phone out of his hand and started texting myself.

  Unknown Number: Hey sexy. I can’t wait to have some more good times with you. How about I take you to a fabulous restaurant? You like sushi? You look like a sushi and sake kind of girl. I bet you like flowers too. I’ll make sure to bring you some. ;)

  I handed the phone back to him, laughing. Suddenly my phone chimed in the other room. I slipped my feet into my shoes and hurried to my clutch in the entryway. A few moments later, after he’d thrown on some pants, he followed me in there.

  “Some guy just texted me and wants to take me on a date,” I teased, winking at him.

  “Well, are you going to accept his offer?” he asked, chuckling at my silliness.

  “I’ll think about it. Maybe he can text me tomorrow afternoon and confirm,” I suggested as I walked to him. I stood on my toes and kissed him chastely before turning to walk away. Right before I got more than a couple of feet away, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him.

  “See you tomorrow,” he promised and pulled me in for a passionate kiss. I tried stepping away but he sucked my lip between his teeth and gently bit. Giggling, I reached under his arms and tickled his bare ribs to get him to turn me loose.

  Loud, boyish laughter resonated in the room as he squirmed away from my fingers. Ah ha! Big, powerful Jackson was ticklish. I loved it.

  “You’re ticklish! Oh, this is going to be fun!” I told him, smiling evilly. He had a huge smile on his face and both hands in a surrender position, backing away from me.

  “Woman, you tickle me again and you are getting stood up for your date tomorrow,” he threatened, still grinning.

  Walking out the door, I shouted back at him, “See you tomorrow, Jackson.” Big, serious Jackson was sexy. But ticklish, boyish Jackson was pretty adorable too.

  A dark two weeks…

  It’s been a fucking week. I don’t feel better—I feel fucking worse. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck Brayden. Fuck Pepper and her annoying prods to get me to eat. Fuck my teacher’s emails inquiring on my whereabouts. Fuck everyone.

  The slamming door lets me know Fucking Pepper is back. Fuck her. “Dammit, Andi. Get your ass out of that bed!” she shouts, ripping the covers off of me.

  “Fuck you, Pepper!” I scream back at her, tears filling my eyes again.

  “Fuck yourself, Andi. You’re going to a doctor. Get up. Now! You are depressed and you need some help,” she rants, grabbing my wrists and yanking my frail body from the bed.

  We struggle but she ultimately wins because she’s Fucking Pepper. She snatches up some jeans and throws them at me. Today I am going to get fucking help. Fuck that.

  “Wake up, lazy! I already let you sleep half the day away. I’m ready to go to the market. We’re completely out of everything,” Olive chirped, bouncing on the bed next to me.

  Groaning, I tossed my pillow at her. “What time is it?” I asked, too tired to even look for myself.

  “Sweetie, it’s ten-o’ clock. We’re wasting daylight. If we don’t get going soon, the market will be packed,” she whined. I was powerless against Olive’s cute pleas.

  “Ugh, fine! But I am taking a shower first,” I replied as I dragged myself out of bed.

  My head was still pounding from the drinks I had last night. I’d had fun with Jackson but had been ready to leave after our second round. There was no way I was going to spend the night with him. That totally would go against my rules.

  After I’d showered and thrown my hair into a wet bun Pepper would approve of, I put on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. No makeup for me this morning. Olive was perched on the arm of the couch, waiting for me when I finally made it in the living room a half hour later.

  “All right, hon, I’m ready, but let’s stop by Jeanie’s on the way. I need a bagel and some coffee,” I grumbled as I picked up my purse.

  “Definitely!” she agreed, her face lighting up. Olive loved Jeanie’s because that’s where we’d found each other.

  After a twenty-minute walk mostly of us rehashing our evenings, we finally arrived at Jeanie’s. Jeanie waved at us when we walked in.

  “Couldn’t stay away, huh, Miss Andi?” Jeanie questioned, shaking her head. I might not work there anymore, but it would remain one of my favorite places.

  “Of course not, Jeanie. I already miss you!” I beamed. She waved me off, gruffly turning to get our order going. There was no sense in trying to tell her you’d try something different. Jeanie just gave us what she felt like making. Olive and I found a table by the window and sat down.

  “So are you seeing him again tonight?” Olive asked, continuing our conversation.

  Grinning, I told her, “I’m pretty sure we’ll go out again. I showed him a good time.” She giggled at my insinuation. Pepper got annoyed but I could always count on Olive to want to live vicariously through me. Pepper said that eggs me on.

  Jeanie walked up and set down two coffees as well as two everything bagels with cream cheese. The woman knew me well. I handed her a twenty but she rolled her eyes and went back to the register. Olive and I ate our breakfast, chatting about her next modeling gig when the door to the café jingled.

  Instinctively looking up, I was surprised to see the bartender from last night and Jackson. Dammit! I looked like a hag this morning.

  “He’s here!” I hissed to Olive, trying to hide my face. He looked sexy in a pair of low-riding jeans and a fitted Henley. I was about to die of embarrassment from looking so awful compared to Jackson. Why did I have to be so lazy this morning?

  Olive stole a glance their way and snickered. “Wow, he is cute. You didn’t tell me he had piercings and tattoos!”

  “Uh, not him. He’s just the bartender. Jackson’s the dark-headed god over there in the black shirt. I look terrible. He can’t see me like this,” I whispered, upset with myself.

  As if he could feel us staring, he turned, looking in our direction. His laughter at the bartender stopped when his eyes locked with mine. Gone was Man-Killer Andi and here was embarrassed, blushing Andi. He f
inally pulled his gaze away and paid Jeanie. I tried to melt into my chair. I bet he’s looking forward to our date now. Not. I’d forgive him if he pretended I wasn’t here.

  Luck wasn’t on my side though, because Jackson and the bartender made their way to our table.

  “Hey, Andi. Can we sit with you ladies? Who’s your lovely friend?” Jackson asked, eyes twinkling.

  “Uh, sure. Please, have a seat. Guys, this is my friend, Olive,” I introduced nervously. Jackson shook her hand, smiling at her. “Nice to meet you, Olive. This is my best friend, Ian Dempsey. He owns the new bar, Dempsey’s,” he stated, making his own introductions.

  Ian took her small hand but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and briefly kissed it. “Nice to meet you, Olive,” he winked at her. Normally Olive would be shrinking back from this kind of contact, but she was actually blushing. Black women can definitely blush.

  “This is Andi, Ian, but I think you two have already met,” Jackson finished.

  “Nice to see you again,” he replied in his thick Irish accent. I only got a handshake. Looks like Ian is sweet on Olive, and I think she might actually feel the same.

  Ian launched into talking to Olive, asking her about what she did for a living and commenting on her gorgeous eyes.

  Jackson leaned over and whispered into my ear, distracting me from their conversation, “You look so beautiful, Andi.”

  My cheeks immediately reddened because I felt like he was teasing me, considering I was in no way beautiful at the moment. “Yeah, sure. You just want to make sure you get laid tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll be pretty before tonight,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

  He grabbed my hand and his hot breath shot into my ear as he said with no humor in his voice, “I don’t fucking lie. You are beautiful. You look like an angel sitting in the sunlight by this window. Don’t ever downplay your looks.”

  My heart skipped a few beats. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t been messing with me. He smelled of soap and aftershave, which had me swooning.

  Jeanie interrupted our moment by setting down the guys’ coffees. Everyone turned their attention to Olive as she told several stories from some modeling jobs she had done recently. She was such an innocent, so listening to the things that she described as horrific was really just funny. We were all laughing hysterically at her stories.

  Once everyone had finished their coffee, Ian spoke to us. “You ladies should come to the bar tonight. Drinks on me,” he suggested, smiling at Olive.

  She looked embarrassed, but I saved her from having to tell him no. “Ian, that’s sweet, but I actually have a date,” I chimed in, winking at Jackson.

  The poor guy looked sad. “Well, Olive, you could come. There’s going to be a pretty cool band,” he piped, in a last-ditch effort to get my adorable friend to see him again.

  “I’m sorry, Ian, but I have other plans. But maybe another time?” she asked softly. Poor Olive. There wouldn’t be another time. She was letting him down easy. There was no way in hell she would go to a bar. It really was sad because I could tell she felt something for this guy.

  “Come on, man. Let’s go,” Jackson broke in, slapping Ian on the back as he stood. “Andi, I’ll pick you up at seven tonight at your place. Sushi sound good?” he inquired, winking.

  “Um, I was thinking steak,” I teased. He just grinned as he started walking away. “Wait! I didn’t tell you my address,” I called after him.

  “No worries. George already did,” he assured me as he walked out with Ian right behind him.

  “Oh my goodness, Andi! Jackson looks like a keeper. Are you sure you want to ditch him after the weekend?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Those are the rules, Olive. So, yes, I will be ditching him,” I told her honestly. She pouted—actually pouted—at my words.

  “Why do you care so much?” I demanded. Looking embarrassed, she glanced down at her napkin and began fiddling with it. “No reason,” she whispered quietly.

  Suddenly, I realized why she cared. She really had an interest in Ian. “Ah, you like Ian!” I teased.

  Her eyes frantically darted to mine. “I do not!” she hissed, but her face told a different story.

  “Whatever, chica. I can read you better than you think. No worries. We’ll make it happen. I’ll make sure you see him again,” I promised. Not waiting for her response, I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me so we could head to the market. I had a date to prepare for.

  A dark two weeks…

  So apparently, the doctor says I’m depressed. No shit, Sherlock. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. He said that I need to take antidepressants.

  “Did you take your first pill?” Drill Sergeant Pepper asks.

  I roll my eyes at her and snatch up the pill bottle. I toss the pill back and chase it with my water bottle. Not wanting to converse, I slide back into the comfort of my bed.

  “Look, Andi. I know things are hard for you, but you have to snap out of it. You need to get a hold of that heart and put it in check. Next week you have a finals and you haven’t even studied. Please just do it for me. I am dying right along with you seeing you this way,” Pepper says with unusual softness.

  Sighing, I tell her, “I’ll try, Pepper.”

  Jumping on my bed, she envelops me in her arms and we fall asleep, cuddled like little kids.

  The house was quiet while I got ready for my date. Olive and Pepper had gone to dinner at Pepper’s parents’ house tonight. Her mom needed help getting the house prepped for a fundraiser, so she had told the girls that they could stay the night if it got too late. Turning the music up, I enjoyed my primping time alone. I found a sexy pair of panties and a matching bra to put on. Admiring myself in the mirror, I thought just how much Jackson would enjoy this ensemble.

  In the closet, I found a pair of dark skinny jeans and a green tunic. After dressing, I slipped on some heeled boots. I was ready for my date. Definitely in Man-Killer Mode now. Such a far cry from the hideous woman I was earlier today. It was after that moment that I had vowed to never leave the house not made up ever again.

  Checking my phone for the time, I realized it was already ten after seven. Well, at least Jackson hadn’t arrived yet. Turning off the music, I sat in the recliner, waiting for Jackson to pick me up.

  Jerking awake, I realized I had passed out waiting for him. I looked at my phone to check the time and see if he had messaged me. It was 10:15. What the hell? What was worse was that I had no messages from him. Quickly, I fired off a text to him.

  Me: Jackson, I think you forgot something. Did something come up?

  I got up and went back to my room to freshen my makeup and make sure my hair was still reasonable looking. Fifteen minutes later, I still didn’t have any messages from him. Okay.

  Me: Okay. I’m not sure what to think right now but it sucks. Call me.

  I was trying not to seem desperate. There was nothing I hated more than to have a man thinking I was waiting at his beck and call. After I paced the room for another fifteen minutes, a text chimed.

  Jackson: Something came up.

  What the fuck? Hell no. It was almost 11:00 and I had been completely stood up with a shitty excuse.

  Me: I see. Well, have a nice life.

  There. I officially ended something that had potential for a lot of fun. Whatever. Grabbing my purse, I headed out the door. I was going to Dempsey’s to see the band Ian had mentioned earlier today. Maybe I’d find a new prospect. The weekend was not over yet.

  After the quick cab ride over, I hopped out and headed toward the door with my twenty ready in hand. I had catching up to do. Stalking up to the bar and sliding up onto the only vacant seat, I met Ian’s shocked stare.

  “Andi, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he stammered, realizing I was supposed to be with Jackson.

  “I’ll take two shots of Jägermeister and a Corona,” I told him, snubbing his statement. I slapped down another twenty.

  Ignoring my twenty and my
response, he turned to make my drinks. A few minutes later he set them down in front of me. Quickly, I knocked back the two shots and chased them with my beer. When I gave him the look that said I needed another round, he simply nodded and repeated my order. After the second round, I realized I was quickly getting fucked up.

  “I’ll take another round,” I slurred to Ian. He rolled his eyes and made me another round. While I was waiting, some douchebag sidled up next to me. His hair was slicked back and he reeked of cheap cologne.

  “I’d like to throw this blond bimbo over the bar and fuck her tight little ass,” he suggested in a snarky tone to his equally douchebaggy of a friend, both of them laughing hysterically.

  Before I could even formulate a response, Ian slammed his fists onto the bar in front of them and glared their way. He looked quite fearsome with his piercings and angry Irish temper flaring. “Get the fuck out of my bar. We absolutely will not condone any type of derogatory comments to any female in this bar,” he growled. The guys started backing away and were met with Meathead grabbing each of them by the neck, leading them out of the bar.

  “Thanks, Ian,” I acknowledged, turning back to my drinks that were now waiting in front of me.

  “You might want to slow down, Andi,” he warned as I sucked down two more shots.

  I giggled at him and nearly fell off the stool but managed to pull myself upright again.

  “He’s not a bad guy,” he informed me as he wiped down the counter in front of me.

  Instantly, my temper flared. “How would I know? He never gave me the opportunity to see. It’s cool. It was just sex, Ian. I’m a big girl.” I was annoyed that he was trying to defend his friend to me. Me, the girl who had been stood up. “I’ll take two more,” I ordered as the room spun momentarily.

  “I think you’ve had enough, Andi,” he remarked, scowling.