The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (18 page)

“You like?” She still wore a mischievous smile.

“I do,” he said, lifting a hand to brush against one of her nipples, still tight through the fabric of the thin bra. “Want to get a better look at them.”

“I’d better take off my panties first,” she said, and bent to tug at one of the straps of her garters.

“You keep those on,” he said, his voice husky. He wanted to fuck her with them on, her legs encased in the silky, erotic fabric.

“I will.” She grinned and turned away, bending over to undo the straps. As she did, she presented him with her ass, sweet and round. He groaned and ran his hands over those cheeks, enjoying the creamy flesh hidden by tantalizing scraps of lace. A moment later, she pushed her panties down to the ground, stepped out of them, and then began to hook her garters back once more. When she was done, she turned back to him expectantly.

“On the chair,” he said.

“The shoes?”

“Stay on.”

“Naughty,” she said with a grin, and slid over to the chair, then crossed her legs daintily in it and waited. Her pose hid everything but her smooth thighs, and while she was a lovely picture like that, he had other plans. His hand moved to her leg and skimmed along the thigh, stroking her soft skin. He then hooked his hand under her knee and tugged her leg outward until it was straight. She arched her foot as he did, and he remembered that she liked to be kissed there. His mouth went to her ankle, and he lightly kissed the flesh through the silky hose, enjoying her shivers. Her hands brushed over his cock as he did, as if she couldn’t resist touching him.

His hands stroked down that smooth length of leg, so straight, and then tilted it back. At her gasp, he reached for her other leg, straightened it, and then tilted it back, too, until her legs were a vee straight in the air, and she was forced to clutch the arms of the chair to keep her balance. Her breath was coming in short, spiky pants that pleased him.

Not nearly as much as when he looked down and discovered that she was completely bare. Her sweet little pussy was pink, the slit gleaming with moisture.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said, his cock hard as steel at the sight.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said softly, then chuckled. “Surprise.”

He knelt in front of the chair. “Now that’s just beggin’ for a taste.”

At her sharply inhaled breath, he knew she liked the thought, and he tugged at her hips, pulling her close. “Hands on your legs. Keep them straight up in the air,” he said. “Gotta show off those gorgeous legs.”

She trembled but did as she was told, and he leaned in and brushed his mouth over the tender flesh. He felt the shiver that coursed through her, heard the moan she bit back. He licked the wet seam of her, felt her hips jerking in response. She was entirely open like this, her legs arching high in the air, her hands locked behind each knee, her bare sex exposed to him. Trusting him. Wanting him as much as he wanted her.

He needed her, right then. With a low groan in his throat, he kissed her right on the plumpest part of her pussy. “Stay there, darlin’.”

A moment later, he returned, condom in hand. He quickly put it on and watched her biting her lip, her eyes hot with need.

He couldn’t resist teasing her a moment more, though. With a lazy finger, he slid it through the damp folds, trailing back and forth in her slickness. “Are you wet enough?”

She nodded, a high-pitched whimper emerging from her throat.

“Should I lick you a little more? Just to be sure?”

“No,” she breathed, but trembled at his words. “Take me now. Please.”

“You want me deep inside you?” He moved forward, his hands on her thighs, pulling her a few inches forward, to the edge of the chair. She was perfectly lined up with the height of his cock, and he placed the thick head of it at her wet, hot entrance, and nudged it in, just a little.

She moaned.

He stopped, though he thought his balls were going to explode with need. “Tell me that you want me, Beth Ann.”

“Please, Colt,” she said softly, her fingers digging into her silky stockings. As he watched, her legs trembled. “I need you.”

“Need this?” he asked, and thrust shallowly against her entrance.

She whimpered. “Yes.”

“Convince me,” he said softly.

She whimpered again, tugging at her legs, as if dying to pull her hands from where they were anchored.

“Tell me.”

“Please,” she panted, the words rushing forth from her. “I ache for you.”

“You do?” He ran a hand down one beautiful leg. “Did you think about me this week? Think about fucking me again?”

She nodded, then bit her lip. “I want to feel your thickness deep inside me.”

Holy hell. He pushed deeper, into her tight warmth. She was so incredibly wet and snug around him, and judging by her little keening gasps, it felt just as good to her as it did to him. He slowly pushed in, inch by inch, until he was seated deep within her. And then he stopped again.

She writhed against him, and he felt that tight pussy clench all around his cock. Tight, slick, and totally bare. He stroked one hand over her mound, his thumb dipping to flick her wet clit.

Beth Ann shuddered, gasping. Her legs jolted involuntarily.

He pushed forward, until those sexy shoes were pushing against his shoulders, her legs long, sweet spikes that lay against his body. And still he didn’t move inside her. He wanted her to ask for it, because there was nothing fucking hotter than that.

“Colt,” she said softly, breathing his name. “Colt, I need—”

“Tell me.”

Her hips flexed. “Move.”

“Move?” He gave a small little flex of his hips in return. “You mean…you want me to fuck you?”

She nodded, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders. “Please.”

“Darlin’,” he said softly, and leaned in to kiss her pretty, parted mouth. He was in her so deep, her shoes almost grazing his ears. “You need to ask me for that.”

Her eyelids fluttered. Her mouth worked, as if she was having a hard time expressing the words. This was a woman that said
“fiddlesticks” after wandering hours in the rain and mud. But he knew he could make her ask for more.

“Colt,” she panted.

“Yes, darlin’.”

“Fuck…me…” She gasped. “I need you to fuck me.”

Most erotic thing he’d ever heard. He grasped her thighs, pulled back until only the head of his cock was still seated in her warmth, and then slammed deep back into her.

A loud moan tore from her throat. “Like that. Oh, like that.”

He buried himself deep in her again, pumping hard. Her moans were fucking beautiful, and they were mixed with wild, needy words as he stroked deep inside her. Over and over, he thrust hard, into that hot, slick, welcome warmth. Her calves against his shoulders trembled and she bucked her hips with every little thrust.

“Like that.” She kept breathing with every stroke, as if she had to keep instructing him. “Oh, like that.”

And damn if it didn’t make him want to fuck her harder. He slammed into her with every thrust, the chair rocking and shaking with every slap of their skin meeting. She tensed under him, and the whimpers escalated, her eyes squeezed shut.

He was going to come soon, and she hadn’t come yet. Her pussy was clenching him tight, like a vise, and he wasn’t going to last. But she needed to come first.

“Touch yourself, darlin’. Touch that bare pussy for me.”

Her gasps turned into small cries that matched his thrusts. “Colt…I need…”

“Touch,” he said with a thrust.

Her hand slid down her belly, her fingers sliding to her sex as he watched. They parted the slick flesh, swiped over her clit. She stiffened, her mouth forming a small O of ecstasy.

“Keep touching,” he gritted, his thrusts into her wild now, jerky. Christ, watching her touch herself as he pumped into her was going to make his control disappear entirely.

She whimpered out his name, her fingers jerking on her clit, and his name turned into a sob as her legs stiffened, and he felt her pussy shiver around his cock, clamping around it.

He came with a hoarse shout, his fingers dug into her hips, slamming against her in the chair.

Fucking hell. Did every round of sex with her have to be more mind-blowing than the last? He exhaled slowly, bracing himself on the arms of the chair while he recovered. Her legs twitched against him, calves still propped on his shoulders, and he heard her soft panting.

He staggered backward, almost regretting that he had to pull out of her delicious warmth, and turned away to dispose of the condom. When he turned back, she’d curled her legs down against herself and still sat in the chair, dazed.

Her hair was a mess. Her mouth was red in the corners from where he’d kissed her too fiercely and left stubble burn.

She looked gorgeous. And here he’d jumped on her like some horny teenager as soon as he saw her. Allan would have taken her out for a nice dinner, romanced her, and then brought her home and made love to her in a nice big bed.

Hell, Colt just threw her down in her barber chair and fucked her. He ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

She sat up, stiffening, her face suddenly guarded. “Sorry?”

“This,” he said, gesturing at the salon. Their clothes had been thrown all over the small room. “Probably isn’t what you wanted. I should have taken you out for a nice dinner like a civilized human being.”

She laughed and got up from the chair. “
This
is exactly what I wanted, Colt Waggoner.” Her hands went to his undershirt and flicked down his nipples. “Now that we’ve gotten all the sex out of the way, we can be together and not worry about being tense or weird about anything.”

He leaned down and kissed her fiercely. “Two things,” he said, when he pulled away from her mouth.

“What’s that?”

“First of all, this is not all the sex gotten out of the way. This is the first round of sex gotten out of the way.”

She laughed, and her hands stole to his buttocks, squeezed. “And the second?”

“The second is that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Beth Ann Williamson.”

Her mouth got all soft and she stared up at him with a smile. She squeezed his ass again. “I’m still game to go out if you are. Night’s early. Where did you want to go?”

He shrugged, remembering what Allan had mentioned. “You like Italian?”

She made a face. “Not really.”

He thought for a minute more. “Wings? There’s a sports bar next town over. Great wings. Private booths.”

She laughed and twirled away. “You just want to see me licking my fingers all night, don’t you?”

“The thought did cross my mind,” he said with a smile.

They cleaned up with towels and her rinsing sink, redressed, and drove to the next town over. In the car, Beth Ann chatted with him about her week—the new salon that had moved in down the street, her customers, her sister being grounded for a month after being caught at the Arcane Forest with Lord Colossus.

He’d told her about the class he’d had, and how they’d gotten lost almost immediately. She’d laughed at all the things he thought were amusing, and listened to his camping stories. Boring shit for a girl that liked hair and makeup, but she didn’t seem bored by them at all. And when they got to the bar, she’d sat on the same side of the booth as him so she could watch the TV, too. He spent most of the night watching her lick her fingers as she ate wings—and damn it if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’d ever seen—and explaining hockey to her. He’d become a fan ever since Dane had been drafted, and she seemed eager to learn more.

They’d ended the night with a sweet kiss on her salon doorstep. Then, she’d murmured naughty things into his ear, and they’d stumbled back to the air mattress she had in the back storage room, and made love twice more before he’d kissed her good night and headed back to the ranch.

All in all, not a bad first date.

B
eth Ann saw Colt three times that week, and regularly for the next three weeks. Twice he’d swung by to see her to bring lunch, or have dinner, and once she’d headed by the ranch just because she’d been thinking about him, and brought him dinner. They kept tabs on each other’s schedules, since his job had varying hours and he wanted to make sure that her schedule matched up with his at least a few times during the week. The nights he was gone on overnight trips and she didn’t get to see him, she missed him. Stupid to be so far gone over a guy she’d only been seeing for a month, but there it was. And every time he got back from a trip, he’d swing by the salon on the pretense of a haircut, and they’d end up in the back room with her ankles on his shoulders and his cock deep inside her.

Beth Ann flushed at the thought. So far, so good on the relationship. They’d gone out of town to date more often than they’d
stayed in, and no one in Bluebonnet had seemed to pick up on the fact that they were seeing each other. They weren’t hiding it, after all. But no one seemed to notice, and Beth Ann was still frequently asked when she was going to get back together with Allan.

She didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t mind if people thought she was dating Colt—not in the slightest. But when people asked, she didn’t say she was dating anyone. Colt hadn’t mentioned if he wanted it to be known or not. And the longer Allan was kept in the dark about how serious they were, the easier it was for her. She liked things how they were.

Well, she’d have liked them more if they had a real bed, she amended. The last time Colt had been over, they’d busted the air mattress and ended up on the floor. He’d bought her a new one and promised to accompany her apartment hunting his next Saturday off.

Which was today, and just as soon as she was done with her appointments, they’d be heading out the door. She smiled at the thought and had dressed to please him. A white backless sundress covered in a cherry pattern with a swingy skirt. Heels. No panties. And bare again, because she knew he liked that. She glanced at her watch. Her last appointment was running late. Annoying. Her Saturday hadn’t been great so far—she’d had another client defect to Cutz, the new salon across the street. It was ridiculous. She’d heard the woman was horribly unfriendly, the prices sky-high, and Beth Ann still lost clients on a regular basis.