Alpha’s Sun

by Rose, Renee

  “I’m going to drive you out to your RV now,” he mutters.

  I purse my lips. It’s on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but that would be the definition of cutting off my tongue to spite my nose. Or whatever the saying is.

  Instead, I stand. He hesitates like he wants to say something, but then just tilts his head toward the parking lot where we left the Harley and waits until I start walking to fall into step with me.

  He’s smart enough not to touch me or to say anything. In fact, neither of us say a word during the walk to the bike.

  “I’m parked out on Cebolla Mesa,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head, unfamiliar with the area. I give him directions and accept his helmet before I climb on the back of his motorcycle.

  I wrap my arms around his washboard abs—the best I can with the cast—and try not to think about how easily my body sinks into pleasure just touching him. I try to ignore the thrill of the speed on the bike and the expert way he handles it.

  No, this hedonistic pleasure that Titus incites can’t be trusted. I was smart enough to walk away last time.

  I need to do the same thing now.

  * * *

  Titus

  I ought to be glad Sunny’s through with me. I called her on her shit and she walked, same as last time.

  But there’s something itchy and unsettled in my center. Like I fucked up and I need to fix it.

  So my compromise is making sure Sunny gets safely to her RV instead of wandering around the plaza like a vagabond.

  The drive to her RV is beautiful and the place she chose to park exquisite. She’s nestled right on the edge of the Rio Grande gorge, but still among pine trees.

  She has a couple solar panels on the roof, a solar shower set up in a tree and a little flower pot with wilted columbines by the front door.

  “Oh, you’re thirsty, aren’t you, sweet flowers? Let me give you a drink.” The looney woman is talking to her flowers. She opens the RV and comes back out with a jug of water, which she pours on the wilted flowers. “The pot is too small,” she says to me, as if I was wondering. “It dries out too quickly and with me not coming home last night…” She pops back into the Airstream.

  I want to go, but I feel uneasy about leaving her here. I know she’s a grown woman and she’s been living on her own forever, but it strikes me as extremely unsafe. She’s a fragile human female, out here in the wilderness, where no one could hear her scream.

  I circle around the RV, lifting my nose to scent the air. I wish I were in wolf form, so I could really get a sense for what’s been around here. I step into a thicket of trees and catch a scent that sends a shock through me.

  Shifter.

  Male wolf.

  Who has been out here? My buddy Buzz?

  Or could this have something to do with the lab I’m looking for? Maybe an escaped test subject.

  I look back toward the RV, thinking about stripping to shift, but Sunny comes back out. “Don’t feel like you have to hang around, Titus.” It would sound rude, except she’s wearing one of her bright sunny expressions. She truly was aptly named.

  Reluctantly, I walk back. “Yeah, okay. I’ll find out when your bus will be fixed. You need a ride out to the bridge tomorrow to sell your wares?”

  “My stuff is in the bus. I wasn’t thinking when you let him take it.”

  Shit. Now I feel like the biggest dick. And I sure as hell don’t trust those tweaker coyotes not to steal her stuff. And I’m affecting her ability to make a living.

  “I’ll go by and hurry them up,” I tell her, even though it’s a long drive out there. “And I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done.”

  She blinks those cat eyes at me. “Thank you, Titus.”

  “You need anything else?”

  She puts her good hand on her hip but she’s too nice to remind me that she already made it clear she needed nothing from me.

  “Right. Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks again!” She gives a cheerful wave.

  I can’t stand feeling like she’s getting rid of me, but I know she is.

  Damn.

  I swing a leg over my bike and start it up. When I come back, I’m going to shift and follow those scents somehow.

  * * *

  Sunny

  “Darling, I’m fine. Truly. Titus took good care of me.” I called Foxfire as soon as I got settled. My RV functions perfectly off the grid with solar generated electricity to charge my cell phone. I just have to haul in my own water if I want to shower more than once a week because Taos only gets twelve inches a year of precipitation.

  This is the first chance I’ve had to actually speak with Foxfire, although we’ve texted all day.

  “I still don’t understand why Titus was there. Are you two… a couple now or something?” She sounds slightly nauseated by the thought. But children never like to think of their parents as sexual beings. Even with the sex-positive upbringing I gave Foxfire, she’s squeamish about this.

  “No!” My voice sounds too high-pitched. “He’s here on business. I ran into him at the gorge bridge. And then he came to yoga.”

  Foxfire makes a spluttering sound like she just choked on a sip of water. “What? What?” She laughs. “Titus went to yoga?”

  I chuckle too. “I know, darling. Ridiculous. See, there was this other man at the bridge and he said he was going—”

  “Okay, stop. I’m not sure I want to know any of this.”

  “Well, you did ask, darling. I’m just trying to explain.”

  She makes a little discontented sound. “Does it involve you having sex with my husband’s dad? Because I definitely don’t want to hear about that.”

  “Okay, then the topic is now closed.”

  “Oh, Sunny! I didn’t need to know!” she wails. My daughter has always called me by my first name because I wanted to parent her in a way that gave her full autonomy. I believe children, like all of us, are infinite beings. They’re just trapped in tiny bodies and underestimated by the adults around them. I tried to function from the assumption that Foxfire had her full awareness and could make choices for herself, and I was just there to help and guide, when necessary.

  I laugh. “Don’t worry. I sent him on his way. I’m back at my RV now, and I’m going to be fine as soon as I get my bus back. But enough about me. What’s the status of my grandchildren?”

  “Ugh, Sunny! Please.”

  “I want grandchildren, Foxfire. I sent you a little bag with moonstone and rose quartz to promote fertility.”

  “OMG, Sunny no. We don't need them.”

  “Oh, are you already expecting?”

  “Sunny!”

  “If you’re having trouble, it might be Tank’s sperm count. You can get a test to make sure.”

  “Do not mention my partner’s sperm count ever again.”

  “Foxfire, you know how much I love babies.”

  Foxfire sighs but her voice softens. “I do know, Sunny. We’re just not there yet.”

  “Well, don’t wait too long, darling. I had such a hard time, you know. I just don’t want you to pass your prime and then have the problems I did.”

  “Sunny. Don’t project your fears onto me.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” I say immediately. I definitely believe thoughts create reality, and I shouldn’t ever surround my daughter with my anxieties. “Surrounding you with unconditional love and the knowledge that you’re perfect just as you are.” This was the mantra I used to send her off to school with.

  I hear the smile in Foxfire’s voice. “Thanks, Sunny. I love you, too.”

  “Goodnight, darling. Give that man of yours a hug from me.”

  “Will do. Bye, Sunny.”

  Chapter 5

  Titus

  I don’t know what in the fuck I’m doing. If I believed she was capable of it, I would say Sunny is truly a witch and she cast a spell on me.

  But that’s obviously not her speed. She’s not looking to tangle any
one into her web.

  Not intentionally, anyway.

  Yet, tangled I am. That’s the only explanation I have for why I feel it’s necessary to drive her bus out to her with supplies in the back to make her flower boxes.

  It’s stupid, really.

  I should just be dropping the vehicle off and then slink off to shift and sniff around her place to see what I can find. I have a job to do for Alpha Green.

  Instead I’m set on playing gardener to a woman who doesn’t want my help.

  Fuck-nuts crazy.

  And yet when Sunny bursts out the door in all her sunny glory when I pull up, I forget all my grudging reluctance. Her hair is pulled up on the top of her head in a messy bun that makes her look taller and more slender. The smile that stretches across her face could light a major city.

  And just seeing her relieves some gnawing sense of wrongness I’ve had ever since I left her there last night.

  “It’s already fixed?” She bounds toward me. “That’s wonderful!”

  “I leaned on them a little bit.” As in, I rode out there and stood over the fuckers until it was done. I’m probably lucky the pack didn’t turn on me, but I got the sense the alpha had ruled this was my due, so the coyote had to comply.

  Sunny gives me a quick peck on the cheek. I don’t mean to, but my arm instantly bands around her and pulls that lithe body up to mine. “Oh!” The surprised little breathy sound makes my dick hard.

  Or maybe it’s having her frankincense and roses scent up in my nostrils. Or the soft give of her braless breasts.

  “Busy this morning?” I grit out before I throw her over my shoulder and find a sturdy surface to fuck her on. A picnic table nearby would do, if it didn’t have blocks of red clay and a large stick shaped item sticking up. Something about the shape makes me frown. “What the hell is that?”

  “Oh.” A splash of pink spreads between her freckles. “A little something I was working on. I was feeling inspired.”

  I pretend to examine the upright root. “What is it?”

  “It’s, ah, something I’m working on.” She tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear and gazes at me with wide eyes. Slowly, my brain interprets the crude shape. I do a double take. Yep, the clay is shaped like a dick.

  “The fuck?”

  “Phallic art was very common in ancient civilizations. These models were symbols of fertility and thought to bring good luck.” She raises her chin as she lectures me. “Anyway, I modeled it after you.”

  “Too small,” I growl. I don’t know what the hell else to say. Was she going to fire that clay and use it on herself? My cock’s about to split my jeans. I turn away before I do something stupid, like sweep her art supplies to the ground and show her no clay model can compare to the real thing.

  “Do you want it?” Sunny tentatively asks my back.

  Hell no. I already got one, baby. “Keep it. Something to remember me by.”

  There’s a long awkward pause while I think of sweaty football players to get my dick to calm down.

  Sunny clears her throat. “So, do you need me to give you a ride back to town?”

  Ouch. She’s in a hurry to get rid of me.

  Damn.

  “Yeah. After I put something together.” I open the side door of the bus and pull out the planters, potting soil and flowers.

  Sunny gasps. “Titus!”

  I don’t look at her, because if I do, I’m afraid she’s gonna end up on her knees in the dirt. With me banging her from behind. Instead, I grunt and stomp past, thunking down the heavy planters, one on either side of her door. I fill them half full with soil and then place the three different varieties of flowers the hardware store gardener recommended and tuck them into the planter. I repeat with the other side. The whole time Sunny’s flitting behind me, making approving sounds.

  I finish by packing the flowers in with more soil and stand up, brushing the dirt off my knees. “You have any water?”

  I turn around and find Sunny already prepared with a plastic pitcher in her hand.

  “Oh!” There’s a slosh when our hands collide and water splashes over the front of her tank top. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, hard and perky.

  I try to look up. I really do. But the message isn’t getting from my brain to my eyes. They are glued to those tight buds. My mouth waters. I clear my throat.

  Neither of us moves. I’m not sure either of us breathes.

  Three… two… one: My control snaps.

  The pitcher crashes to the ground, splattering water over our legs. The RV nearly tips over with the impact of our bodies hitting the side. I claim her mouth violently at the same time I pinch one nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

  She squeals her protest and I release my fingers, kneading her soft breast as I bite and lick down her neck.

  “Come here,” I growl, picking her up and carrying her inside.

  Every pleasure center fires just having her in my arms, knowing I’m so close to claiming her.

  I carry her to the mattress and lay her down, shoving the tank top up to give her nipples more attention. I scrape my teeth over them, pinch and pull. Suck and kiss.

  “Oh, Titus. You’re driving me crazy.”

  The crazy is mutual, sunshine. And there’s no other name for it, that’s for sure.

  “You want me to touch you here, baby?” I cup her mons, rub over her thin linen shorts. I’m trying to dial my aggression back and make sure she actually wants this. Especially considering she was busy getting rid of me when I arrived.

  She wriggles against my hand. “No.”

  I go still.

  Fuck.

  “I want Spartacus.”

  “What?”

  She pushes me back, straddles my legs and unzips my jeans. Releasing my cock, she grips me at the base. “This is Spartacus.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your dick. I nicknamed it Spartacus.”

  “What? No.”

  “Spartacus.” She gives me a stroke that makes my balls sit up and beg. “Because it rises to the occasion.”

  “What?” I fight to keep my train of thought. “Don't call it that.”

  “I'm Spartacus,” she mock growls and then giggles.

  “Stop. No.”

  But then she lowers her mouth and licks around the head.

  “Yes. Hell yes, more of that.”

  “You like this?” She uses a mock innocent voice. Her cock-tease is making me lose my mind.

  “Less talking, more sucking, woman,” I growl.

  “Okay, wolf.” She takes me all the way into her mouth and the shudder of pleasure that rips through me nearly knocks over the RV.

  Crazy fucking female, naming my cock.

  As she sucks, I reach to unbutton her thin linen shorts and pull them off. It fucking kills me that she never wears panties. Makes her even more of a temptation knowing that pussy is right there.

  I cup her pussy. When I rub my thumb over her slit, I find it sopping wet. Ready. “You want to get fucked by Spartacus?”

  Fates, what’s wrong with me? Now I’m calling my dick by her pet name, too. Out loud.

  Ridiculous.

  And kinda hot.

  “Yes,” she warbles.

  I rise and switch places with her so I can drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit and back down again. She tastes like magic.

  Moonlight and fairy dust. Flower petals and gemstones.

  And that makes no fucking sense, so clearly I’m out of my mind.

  I’m gonna blame the upcoming full moon for all this crazy. The full moon and this wild, wonderful woman beneath me.

  I yank my jeans off. “You want him now?”

  “Now.” She claws my shirtsleeves and yanks me down over her, her lips parted.

  Oh fates.

  The world spins when we kiss. The earth shakes.

  Oh wait, that might be the RV.

  Or if it’s not, it’s definitely going to be soon.

  I spear her with my
erection, watching her expressive face contort with passion. Her eyes roll back in her head, mouth drops open. The moan she makes should be on autoplay for every porn video ever made.

  “That’s it, love,” I croon, even though I’ve never been the sweet bedroom talk kinda guy. It just rolls off my tongue with ease.

  I pull my hips back and shove in again, this time allowing myself to sink into my own pleasure. She feels so good. So right. She’s small and human and I could split her in two with my massive erection, yet she receives every thrust with softness, with generosity.

  She’s the kind of woman who could give and give and give.

  And I have no idea what makes me draw that conclusion, but I know it to be true.

  “You feel so good, sunshine. So good.”

  “Conquer, Spartacus.”

  A laugh explodes from my chest. I brace myself on my fists beside her head and plow deep with hard rhythmic thrusts that definitely rock the Airstream.

  She makes these crazy keening sounds. Desperate and needy and somehow appreciative.

  I fuck her until she loses her mind and babbles nonsense. I fuck her until I lose my mind. And then I pinch both her nipples at once and demand, “Come.”

  She does. Her pussy clamps down on my dick and then spasms as she climaxes.

  I wait until she’s done and push her to her side and shove her thigh up for a different angle. Perfection.

  I ride her this way until I come, fireworks going off behind my eyes, the room somersaulting around and around.

  When my vision clears, I fall down and wrap an arm around her waist. Spoon her. “I didn’t know how badly I needed this,” I confess.

  Fates, what’s wrong with me? I never talk about feelings and now I’m spilling everything? It’s like I’ve been given truth serum or something. “I didn’t know how good it would feel,” I go on.

  “Sexual healing, baby,” Sunny says with a satisfied air.

  I stiffen, images of her doing this with countless others running through my head. She’s a free-loving, free-spirited soul born a little too late to join the hippie movement of the sixties.

  “Easy, big guy.” She rolls over. “Don’t get jealous.”