Alpha Ever After (Midnight Liaisons Book 5) (3 page)

I stiffen against him, shocked that he’d just reach out and grab me like that. I’m a cat. We’re more aloof and standoffish as a whole, but I know wolves are more affectionate, more touchy-feely. I tell myself Connor doesn’t mean anything by it, and I ignore the tiny pang of disappointment at the thought. He’s just being nice.

Then, hot tears start to leak down my face because someone’s actually being nice to me instead of threatening me. I sniff and bury my face against his collar. He's sweaty and I can smell the scent of the other wolves on him still, but I like touching him.

He strokes my hair. "We'll figure something out, Savannah. I won't let them hurt you."

I nod but don't move from my spot. It feels good to lean against him, to share my burdens. To know that someone else is on my side.

To feel that I'm not so alone.

A hand strokes down my back, and my body prickles with awareness at the small touch. "How long do you think you have?" Connor asks. "Before...you know."

"Couple of days. Probably.” It might be less than that. I don't like to think about that.

"And you...were you going to..." I can hear him swallow. "Were you going to have the baby?"

"I don't know. I was going to talk it over with my boyfriend." I don’t know why I bring up Chris. We’re done. Done-r than done.

Connor’s arms tighten around me a little.

"I have to get out of here," I whisper to him. "Help me. Please. I don't want to be around them when...you know." The thought of all the crude, brutish Andersons around while I go into heat? It's something out of my worst nightmares.

I feel him nod and he strokes my hair again. "I'll think of something."

T
he next few
days are pure hell.

Every day, I challenge my uncle for dominance. I'm run down and weary, but I can't let things stand as they are. I can't let him keep Savannah and think I'm okay with it. So I challenge him. And because he's old and canny and has the power of the pack behind him, I lose every time.

But I keep trying.

I can't let Savannah down.

Every night I go back to her side. I feed her. I bring her a book to read, and a blanket. I make her as comfortable as I can. I bring her old t-shirts of mine to wear. I tell myself it's so that she's comfortable, but the truth is...I like her covered in my scent.

I'm insane about her.

I'm also jealous as hell of her fucking boyfriend. The one that she wants to go back to so he can impregnate her with his kid. She hasn’t mentioned him again, but I think about him constantly…and I hate myself for being jealous, because I'm a shitty Anderson wolf and I'm not worthy to touch her feet.

But I want to be the one that she turns to when she goes into heat. I want to be the one to spread her legs and sink into her. I want to be the one that fills her with his seed and makes her pregnant.

She's mine
, my wolf growls inside me.

And the closer Savannah gets to her heat? The harder it is for me to resist her. I find myself bailing out on work to spend time with her. I just recently purchased a new house that needs some elbow grease. For my job, I buy houses and flip them for a profit. This one's a special project of mine. It's an old house but a huge one, and with a fresh coat of paint, some new counters and some new plumbing, it'll make a nice home. It's a good location, too, and with the market as hot as it is, I already have investors asking about it. I can make appointments tonight, get a few hours of painting and plumbing in, and have it sold in another week.

But I ditch all of that in favor of heading over early to spend time with Savannah. Tonight, I have a pack of cards so we can play together. Last night it was Sudoku. The night before, crosswords.

My cousins all sneer and laugh at me. At first they laugh at my repeated challenges and subsequent failures. They think I’m stupid and hardheaded for trying when I know I’ll fail. Then they laugh because they think I have my tail tucked between my legs over the ‘pussy’. That Savannah has me on a leash.

Let them think what they want.

As long as they don't realize what's going on with her? It won't matter.

Tonight, the weather's exceedingly warm and muggy, and I know the broken-down house that Savannah's being held at doesn't have central air. She's going to be overheated and miserable, so I stop and get her an icy slush at the local fast food place, a few chilled bottles of water, and some food. The cards are in my pocket.

When I head in to the house, Buck's sitting there holding a portable fan in front of his face. He's lying down on the sofa and thumbing through his phone. He glances over at me. "Thank Christ you're here. It's fucking hot as hell today."

He’s not wrong about that, and the conditions in the old, broken down house are miserable. I can only imagine what it’s like in the stifling room upstairs. “How's Savannah?"

He shrugs and wipes his brow. "Quiet. I changed her crap bucket and she was sleeping. Didn't say a peep to me. Guess you're the only one she's chatty with." He leers over at me. "She sucking your dick to try and get you to free her?”

"Fuck off," I say easily. Buck's full of crap but he's all bark and no bite. As wolves go, he’s a dick but fairly harmless. “Uncle Levi been around today?"

He shakes his head, getting up from the couch. His shirt is wet with perspiration, so I can only imagine how sweaty Savannah is. "Nope. Heard rumor that they're closing in on that girl werewolf though."

I blink in surprise. That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “No shit? There really is a female wolf?”

Buck nods slowly. "Hope she's hot and has a mouth like a vacuum." He grins and makes a lewd gesture. "Might get to exchange as early as tomorrow."

"I see." Tonight might be my last night with Savannah. Another fierce surge of jealousy blasts through me.

"Yup." Buck tugs his t-shirt on over his chest and then claps me on the arm. "Better get your dick sucked one last time while you can."

"Get bent."

He waves a hand at me. "I'm out of here."

I stay downstairs until he leaves, and then my ears strain as I listen for him to continue on through the woods. The pack owns several hundred acres, and this house is smack dab in the middle. There's a dirt road a short hike through the woods that leads to a dirt parking lot, where we keep our cars. When I hear the distant squeal of tires as Buck revs his old, muffler-less truck, I know he's gone.

Good.

I glance up at the ceiling, imagining Savannah, her skin wet and gleaming with sweat, her shirt sticking to her gorgeous body. My cock gets hard at the thought and I rub the front of my pants to try and appease the ache there. Tonight might be my last night with her.

I hate that I’m disappointed at that. I should be glad she’s going back. Keeping her is wrong. Savannah will be pleased to hear the news, at least. She's going to make it back to her friends and family, and no one will be the wiser that she's been slowly going into heat. She can tackle her lucky boyfriend and Levi will get his wolf female and everyone will be happy.

Except me. I’m going to be fighting the urge to murder her fucker boyfriend who hasn’t even put in a token effort to find her this last week.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling deeply. I need to focus. I need to get over this shit. I can’t be thinking to choke a were-cat just because he’s going to tap the lady that’s mine.

No… she can't be mine. Not with me being a shitty, kidnapper Anderson and her being a Russell cougar. Even if they'd have let me around her before, there's no way I'll ever be able to get within fifty feet of her ever again.

But as long as Savannah is happy and safe, I don't suppose it matters.

I head up the stairs with the food and drinks I've brought. It's quiet up here, but that's not so unusual. Savannah tries to keep a low profile around the others. I head to her room, and the lights are off, the window shut. It's like an oven in here, and Savannah's lying on her side with her back to the door.

Fuckers didn't even give her a breeze. I'm disgusted at my pack, and I set the drinks down and immediately head for the small window across the room. "I can't believe they didn't even open your damn window. What, like they think you're going to jump out it? You're on the second floor and in human form.” I open it as wide as it'll go and the cool night air wafts in.

"Mmm," she says absently, her voice sleepy. She doesn't get up or turn over to see me.

"You thirsty?" I ask, moving to her side. "You must be. I brought you a grape slush from that place you said you like." I sit down on the bed next to her and gaze down at her. Her t-shirt's covered in sweat and sticking to her body, and her skin's gleaming.

And she smells...

Holy fucking god, the room's permeated with the musk of her sex. My cock immediately gets hard.

She rolls over onto her back and I see she's got a hand down the front of her jeans, and she's stroking herself, masturbating. Her eyes are open, her pupils dilated, and her nipples are hard little points against the damp fabric of her shirt.

"Touch me, Connor," she murmurs in a throaty voice, and continues to stroke her pussy right in front of me.

My heat is here.

Growing up, I'd always wondered what it'd feel like when I eventually did go into heat. Would I feel sensual and delicious? A female sexual predator?

Turns out - nope.

It's miserable and achy and I want nothing more than to be pounded. When I wake up that morning, my body is completely oversensitive. Even my clothing feels like steel wool against my skin. There's no breeze in the small hotbox of a room that I'm being held captive in, and the day gets hotter and hotter.

I'm lucky, though: whichever Anderson’s in charge of watching over me is lazy. I don't see anyone all day. I can hear people downstairs, but no one bothers to check on me. Which is good, because the last thing I want is one of the uncouth wolf pack idiots realizing what I'm going through and flinging his unwashed body on me.

Because since I'm in heat? I won't be able to resist. I'll want the hell out of him until my craving is sated and then I'll just hate myself afterward.

If I have to be around the Andersons, I want Connor.

Connor, who's tried to help me and has sported fresh bruises every day. Connor, who watches me with hot, devouring eyes. Connor, who has big brawny shoulders and a fascinating laugh and a strong jaw just made for licking. My hand goes down the front of my jeans and I slide my fingers over my slick pussy, trying to masturbate my way to relief. I can't touch my clit, though. It's too sensitive. Just brushing my fingers against it makes me cry out and my body shudder, and I have to bite back any noises I make so no one hears me.

So I just rub my swollen folds, over and over again. I can't come. I exist in this weird, oversexualized trance where I desperately need sex but can't relieve myself. I just lay on the bed, sweat, and pet myself.

My overstimulated senses smell Connor before he even comes in my room, and my legs shiver with need. The ache inside me grows fiercer. I need him. So, so badly. When he comes in, he chats a little and opens the window, but I'm not even paying attention. My body's quivering with his nearness, and the heat is making me wild with the thought of pouncing on him and dragging my hands all over his hard muscles. Licking the sweat off of his skin, and then wrapping my legs around him until he slams deep inside me and fills me--

He sits on the side of the bed and he's so near that I can't ignore his presence any longer. I roll onto my back, letting him see just how aroused I am. My hand strokes my wet folds, and my breasts feel so achy that it's like i'm going to die unless he touches them. "Touch me, Connor," I breathe.

He dresses differently than the other Andersons in their wife-beater shirts and torn jeans. He always looks - and smells - so nice. Today, he’s in a crisp white Polo and khaki pants. There's a touch of sweat on his brow, and he's brought more drinks and food for me.

The only thing I'm hungry for right now is Connor.

"Fuck," he murmurs as he looks at me. I don't see surprise in his eyes, though, just...heat. Need. He wants me. My feline side purrs with delight and I arch on the bed, letting my breasts jut into the air. "Savannah, honey, you gotta fight this."

Typical guy. Like there's any way to fight against this? I'm just a big senseless bundle of need at this point. I just bite my lip and keep stroking my folds with my fingers, my hips working in tandem.

He breathes hard, and then reaches over and gently tugs my hand from my pants. My fingers are coated with my juices, and as he pulls my hand away, I watch his nostrils flare as he scents my arousal. Oh god, that's fucking sexy. On a whim, I press those wet fingers against his mouth. "Taste me, Connor?"

His eyes close and his entire body shudders. His tongue flicks out to taste my fingers and then he bolts off the bed as if scalded. "Savannah, no. Listen, you're not yourself. You're just overheated and need to cool down. Here." He gets a frosty bottle of water from the food and drinks he's carried up for me and holds it out to me.

I take it from him and unscrew the cap...and then pour the water all over my front. It's ice cold but it feels so good against my skin. Once it's gone, I toss the bottle aside and then drag my hands over my wet t-shirt, making sure he can see the diamond-hard tips of my nipples that are just begging for his mouth. "Don't you want to touch me?"

His hand rakes through his hair and he looks tortured. "More than anything. But you don't want this."

"I can't stop it. I just hurt and ache and need," I say, and my hand goes back toward my pants again.

"Savannah," he groans, moving back toward the bed. He catches my hand before I can stick it back in my pants again. "If I do this, you'll hate me."

"I'll hate you even more if you leave me like this and one of your cousins finds me."

That gets his attention. His eyes flare with a possessive gleam, and it makes me wet all over again.

"I'm so needy," I tell him, and I tug at the wet shirt, desperate to get it off me. It bunches up at my neck, since I can’t move it over the stupid collar. Whatever. I leave it there. “Please, Connor."

He stills my hands again, and the look that crosses his face is tormented. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him I'm a virgin, but I suspect that will make his mind up in the opposite direction. So instead, I touch him. I reach up and caress his cheek, my thumb dragging over his lips. He's so beautiful. I can't believe I find a werewolf sexy, but just looking at Connor is making my pussy clench. He doesn't pull away when I touch him, so I trail my fingers down his neck, tease at the collar of his shirt, and then drop all the way to his cock. It's tenting the front of his pants and it's clear that he's erect and straining.

And I moan, because I want this so badly.

He pulls out his wallet and digs through it.

"What are you doing?" I ask breathlessly, stroking my hand up and down his hard package. He's so big. He's also not pulling away like I’m offending him.

"Looking for a condom." Connor pulls a small packet out of his wallet, studies it intently, and then sighs in relief. "Not expired."

I hadn't even thought about birth control. Being a virgin, i've never really considered it. And male shifters can't make a woman pregnant unless she's in heat. If Connor has a condom, it means it's for dating humans, who might have diseases.

The thought makes me oddly possessive. "Put it on," I demand.

"We'll get there." He puts it down on the floor and then tosses his wallet next to it. "How about we undress first?"

"Make it quick," I say, and tug at my own wet clothing again. It sticks to my skin and I'm sweaty and uncomfortable, but I don't care as long as I get laid in the next few minutes. Nothing matters to me right now except the need overtaking my body.