Falling: A Sexy Alpha Romance Collection

by Nina Levine

  For someone who was asleep, he moves pretty bloody quickly, and in an instant, he’s pushed me onto my back and is on top of me. He stares down at me, and says, “Morning.” His voice is sleep husky, and I want to bottle that shit. It’s sexy and I want to play it over and over in my head for hours.

  “Morning,” I almost whisper, still distracted by his voice and those muscles. Oh . . . those muscles.

  He bends his face to mine and softly kisses me. It’s a wake-up kiss, but I know it’ll quickly progress into something more. The sizzle between us is undeniable, and I doubt we could ever be in the same room without wanting each other.

  He deepens our kiss, and I don’t even care about morning breath. I want this man and nothing could get in the way of that at the moment. My legs wrap around his body, and I push myself towards him, but he pulls away and murmurs, “Wait a sec, beautiful. I need to wrap it.”

  Fuck, he’s right, and I’m grateful one of us is thinking straight. I watch as he moves effortlessly off the bed and into the bathroom in search of a condom. A moment later, he returns, condom in place.

  As he moves over me, he asks, “Now, where were we?”

  I loop my hands around his neck and press my lips to his. “Right here.”

  He spends some time blessing my lips with his, and then begins to trail kisses down my body, stopping momentarily at my breasts before continuing down. His destination is clear, and when he finally gets there, he takes a moment to look at me. Then he shifts his gaze to mine and asks, “Do you have any idea how much I want to lock myself away with your pussy for hours on end?”

  Oh, good lord.

  “Show me,” I say, because truthfully I can’t focus enough to form more words than that. Jett has seen to that.

  A growl rumbles out of his chest, and he buries his face in me. Warm breath. A tongue that knows what it’s doing. A mouth I want to beg to never stop. And I know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I throw my arms out to the side and grip the sheet as my back arches up off the bed. I’m thinking this kind of pleasure can’t be legal when he pushes his finger inside me and brings me closer to the edge. And it doesn’t take him long to tip me over that edge.

  “Oh, my god, Jett . . . ” I can’t even finish that sentence; the pleasure he’s giving me is so intense it’s all I can focus on.

  He finishes bringing me to orgasm and then moves on top of me again. I love the wild look in his eyes. That look tells me just how much he wants me, and the feeling this knowledge induces is toe curling. He kisses me – a long, deep kiss – and I taste myself in his mouth. “See how fucking good you taste?” He’s staring at me intently, waiting for my reply.

  I nod and bite my lip. His gaze drops to my lips, and he mutters, “Fuck.”

  He kisses me again and presses himself against me, his cock hitting my entrance. I wrap my legs around him and encourage him in. Jett doesn’t need to be told twice; he thrusts in, hard and fast, on a grunt. I swallow a scream and show him how much I want him with my kiss. He fucks me like a man possessed, and I’m sure I now know what nirvana is.

  Nirvana is Jett.

  His head drops while he pursues his release, and I shut my eyes as it takes over me again. Ecstasy like I’ve never known wraps itself around my body, curling into me, reaching deep inside, and setting off a chain reaction of sensations that light every single nerve ending of mine with pleasure.

  Jett is ecstasy.

  I drift off in a sex haze, and it’s not until Jett speaks that I come back to consciousness. “You good, sweetheart?”

  I open my eyes and look up into his. “Yeah,” I say, lazily.

  He smiles at me before asking, “You wanna have a shower with me?”

  “I don’t think I can stand just yet. You go ahead. I’ll have one after you, when I’ve got my legs back.”

  His smile spreads out into a full-on grin as he pushes up off me. “Addiction complete,” he says with a wink and saunters into the bathroom.

  I watch his sexy ass until I can’t see it any longer and then let out a long breath.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  I don’t want Jett, and yet I want nothing but Jett.

  Shit.

  I need to get my head together. He’s a player, so chances are he just wants a short-term thing here. He probably just wants sex. I can do that. I just need to keep my heart out of it because Erin’s right; I do tend to fall fast and hard.

  Fuck.

  After I finish showering, Jett surprises me with a request. “Are you free today to photograph a party?”

  “What kind of party?” I really just want to go home, lock myself away, and regroup. Being around him causes me to make choices I don’t want to make. Choices that are leading me further down the path towards spending more time with him.

  His usual sexy grin is replaced with a serious look. “It’s a birthday party for a kid who has cancer. We’re his favourite band, and he requested us to sing at it. Photos weren’t a part of the deal, but I think it’d be cool for him to have them.”

  My heart melts a little at his generosity and kindness. Damn, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “I’m kind of busy -”

  He steps into my space, snakes his arm around my waist, and pulls me close. “I know what you’re doing,” he whispers.

  I feel tongue-tied. This never happens; men don’t cause me to struggle with my words. “What am I doing?” I manage to get out.

  “You’re trying to avoid me. But see, the thing is, I’m your new addiction, so you can’t avoid me.”

  Oh god, if only he knew.

  “Is this how you charm all the women you sleep with?”

  “I don’t charm the women I sleep with. I’ve never wanted to be an addiction for any of them. You’re the first,” he admits, stunning me.

  “So this is just sex, right?”

  “No.”

  “But what if that’s all I want?”

  “Sometimes you can’t have what you want, Presley.” His voice is low, commanding. I hate it, but I love it more. It turns me on, and I resent the desire I have for him to use it more often.

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  His stare is challenging me to argue, like he gets the final say in this. “No. I told you what I want, and I’m going to get what I want.”

  I try to push out of his embrace, but he tightens his hold on me. “You know you want this as much as I do,” he asserts.

  “I know I want the sex as much as you do, but you’re wrong if you think I want to date you.”

  His eyes narrow on me, and he relents, letting me go. “We’ll start with the sex, but you still owe me at least one date.”

  “Uh-uh, we had that last night.”

  “You working at my concert is hardly a date.”

  “There was a party involved; that’s a date in my books.” I know I’m pushing him, but I need to. I need to protect my heart.

  He shakes his head and mutters, “You’re going to test me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Not if you understand we’ll never be more than sex.”

  He chooses to ignore that and moves on. “So, about this party today. Are you really busy?”

  “Yes.” I’m not backing down; it’s not what I do, and I’m not starting now.

  Nodding slowly, he murmurs, “I’ll let you get away with that this once.” His voice is quiet but firm. There’s a warning in it, and I don’t miss it. He’s not going to be easy to persuade to my way of thinking, and I’m not sure if I’m annoyed by that or quietly excited.

  7

  Jett

  I scan through the photos on the computer in front of me. West can hardly hold his excitement in. “Fuck man, she’s fucking talented. These photos are the best we’ve ever had taken.”

  He’s right. The photos Presley took at our concert last week have a quality to them I’ve not seen before. She’s captured atmosphere and emotion, and mixed her own brand of edginess in to create photos any band wo
uld kill to have.

  “We have to book her for our next tour,” Hunter interjects.

  Thank fuck our next tour isn’t for at least six months, maybe more. I’ve spent the last week and a half chasing the fuck out of Presley, only to have her foil all my attempts. Either she’s busy or she’s tired or some other fucking excuse. If I’m gonna convince her to come on the road with us, I might need a full six months to do that.

  Van’s chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes it back and stands. Putting his aviators on, he says, “Right, that’s settled. Book her.” Without a backwards glance, he strides out of the room.

  “What the fuck is his problem?” West demands, watching Van with a filthy glare. There’s no love lost between those two. I spend half my time sorting out their issues, and I’m way fucking over doing that.

  “He’s pissed about the fundraising dinner I signed us up for,” I admit.

  “Christ, we’ve known about that for over a week now. He needs to get the fuck over it,” West mutters.

  “Yeah, well you two need to get over whatever shit you’ve got going on. I’m sick to fucking death of dealing with your crap.” I blow out a long, frustrated breath.

  West scowls at me, but I ignore it. I couldn’t give a shit if he’s pissed at me. Least of my fucking problems.

  Hunter can’t handle confrontation and tries to calm us down. “You think you can book her, Jett?”

  I stand up, ready to leave. “Yeah, I’ll book her.” Even though she’s putting energy into avoiding me, I’ll amp up my efforts and get her to cave. “I’ll catch you guys later,” I say and head out. Although we’re on a break, we’re working on our next album when we can catch time together and we’ve got plans to record later this afternoon.

  As I make my way to my car, I pull out my phone and call Presley. She answers me almost straight away. “You just don’t give up, do you?” I like the playfulness in her tone. It hits me right in the dick, and I decide then and there that I won’t be taking no for an answer today.

  “No. I’m taking you out for lunch today,” I say as I get in my Jeep.

  “Umm, since when?”

  “Since now.”

  She goes quiet and then sighs. “Jett, you need to move on and find someone else. We have nothing in common.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Okay, tell me what you love to do when you’re not making music.”

  “Anything outdoor. Jet skiing, surfing, skydiving, camping.”

  “I hate the outdoors.”

  “What do you love to do?”

  “Well, obviously photography, writing, art, going to the movies.”

  “I like going to the movies. What kinds of movies do you like?” I’m enjoying this conversation, and I settle back into my seat.

  “Romantic comedies, thrillers, and dramas. You?”

  “Action but I can do thrillers, too.”

  “See, nothing in common.”

  I try to find something else. “What kinds of holidays do you like to take?”

  “The kind where I can sit by the pool or beach and drink cocktails. Maybe read a book. Let me guess, you love full-on holidays where you never stop.”

  “I do, but fuck, it doesn’t mean we can’t go on a date and see where it leads.”

  “Why bother starting something we know isn’t going to go anywhere?”

  “Bloody hell, Presley, are you always this pessimistic?”

  “No, just practical. We’re both busy people and neither of us have the time to put into this.”

  I make a decision and turn the keys in the ignition. “You’d be surprised what I have the time for, sweetheart.”

  “I’ve gotta go, Jett.”

  “We’ll talk soon,” I say, and end the call.

  I immediately dial another number. Presley’s got no idea what she’s in for.

  Forty minutes later, I park my car outside her apartment. She lives in Kangaroo Point, not far from where my apartment in the city is. It’s a gorgeous area, close to the river. I exit the car and squint in the sun. It’s hot in Brisbane today, just the way I love it. I reach for the coffee I bought her and head up to her apartment. I’m wondering if she’ll buzz me in the front door, but as I arrive at it, someone is leaving and he lets me in before the door shuts behind me. Too easy, meant to be.

  I take the lift up to her floor, and a couple of moments later, I knock on her door.

  She answers it and surprise covers her face. “Jett. What are you doing here?” She sounds unsure of herself, and I know I’ve made the right decision. Presley wants me as much as I want her.

  I hold out her coffee, and she takes it with hesitation.

  “Hazelnut with a shot of vanilla. I believe it’s your favourite,” I say.

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  I shrug. “I have my ways.” I take a step forward, trying to push my way inside. She steps aside and lets me. I thank the universe for coffee that makes her momentarily forget she doesn’t want to date me.

  Her home is beautiful. I’d been too distracted the other night to pay much attention, but I take it all in now. Splashes of colour everywhere, plants dotted throughout and books on every spare surface. It’s got that feeling my mum and dad’s home has, and I’m drawn to it. After a decade of living out of a suitcase, I’d love to come home to a place like this, instead of the bland apartment I own.

  “Michael told you,” she accuses, and I can tell from her tone he will get his ass kicked for this.

  “Yes.”

  “What did you offer him for that? Michael wouldn’t give me up without something significant.”

  I grin at her. “I promised him a lucrative job for his client.”

  She’s a clever woman and knows exactly what I’m talking about. “You bribed him with something his client isn’t even interested in?”

  “How was I to know his client wouldn’t be interested in a job?”

  She drinks some of her coffee and then returns my grin. “You’re a sneaky bastard, aren’t you, Jett Vaughn?”

  I throw my head back and laugh. Thank fuck. This is the Presley I wanted to see. “I’ve been called worse, sweetheart.”

  She looks thoughtful. “And what if his client had actually agreed? How were you going to get out of that?”

  “Well, considering I’m hoping to convince his client to take that job on, I wouldn’t have any problems if she agreed.”

  She sucks in a breath. She hadn’t been expecting that.

  I keep talking. “I’m taking you out for lunch today.”

  “Oh, really?” She’s putting on a good show, but I’ve worked her out. She wants me, but she’s trying to convince herself she doesn’t. All I need to do is give her a reason to let me in. I need to show her that all her reasons for not wanting me aren’t important.

  “Yeah, beautiful, really. I’ve got a booking for us in forty minutes. Can you be ready by then?”

  Panic spreads across her face. “Shit, Jett. I don’t know any woman who could be ready in that short amount of time. You’ll need to call and push it later.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  I can tell she’s mentally flipping through her wardrobe. She points to her balcony and says, “You can sit in the sun if you want, or in here if you want. Up to you.”

  “Go get ready. Don’t worry about me.”

  She hurries into her bedroom, and I head outside. I call my friend, Ernesto, who owns my favourite Italian restaurant. “How did it go?” he asks as he answers me.

  I chuckle. “I told her I had a booking in forty minutes. She freaked. Told you it would work. Women forget what they want when they’re all freaked like that. Made her forget she didn’t want to go out with me.”

  “Jesus Christ, you’re devious,” he mutters. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  I thank him and hang up. He’s right; I am devious, but I’ve never had to use my skills on a woman before. The chase is both exhilarating and frustrating. And I wonder how
long it’s going to take me to convince Presley to give me a shot.

  8

  Presley

  I follow Jett into the little Italian restaurant. How the hell he managed to convince me to come with him is beyond me. He’s got some sort of special powers, I’m sure of it. All he’s gotta do is grace me with that sexy goddamn smile of his, and I’m like a bloody schoolgirl all over again. Falling at his fucking feet.

  We’re escorted to our table and place our orders. Then he says, “Crazy Stupid Love.”

  “Have you finally lost your mind?” I ask, having no clue what he means.

  “This Means War, Killers . . . romantic comedies I like.”

  “Oh.”

  “A cruise.”

  “Huh?”

  “A cruise would be a good holiday. You could mix it up with drinks by the pool and exploring the places the ship visits. Perfect combination, don’t you think?”

  My stomach does somersaults. He’s put thought into this, and I have to admit I’m impressed. “Yes, I’d love to do a cruise one day,” I say, softly.

  He smiles and leans his elbows on the table. “Now, tell me something about you that no one knows.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  He shrugs. “It’s the kind of shit I like to know about people. It tells me something about them.”

  Maybe I’ve judged him wrong. The fact he wants to know this tells me something about him. “I almost got married when I was eighteen to a man twenty years older than me.”

  Intrigue lights his face. “What stopped you?”

  “We decided on the spur of the moment to do it, but we didn’t have the necessary paperwork filled out. A couple of days later, I freaked and realised I didn’t really want to marry him.”

  “And you’ve never told anyone that?”

  “No. Now it’s your turn.”

  “A woman I slept with five years ago fell pregnant. I didn’t think I wanted the baby but was fully prepared to support her. But just before she was three months pregnant, she aborted the baby. I was surprised at how much it upset me.”