The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas) (14 page)

She
wiggled her butt, laughing at bit.

That’s
when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up like grass reaching toward the
sun.

The
muscles in her body tensed as she recognized a change she had missed. The shift
in atmosphere that only occurred when another person stood in the room.

She
spun around fast, her eyes going straight to the stairs and onto the man of her
thoughts, the man who confounded her and intrigued her.

He
was standing on the stairs, his eyes heavy and low-lidded, lips parted. Their
eyes met and all too fast he was gone, bolting up the stairs.

What
the…

“Gavin!”

She
didn’t have time to stop and analyze the fact that she just, kind of, sort of,
caught a glimpse of his face. The damned man seemed to invariably always find
shadows and he moved so damned fast. Maybe she even needed glasses, too. But
she’d gotten a glimpse.

A
glimpse of scarred flesh, red jagged lines and pink smooth skin. Scar tissue.
Pain. The face of a monster.

But
Gavin MacKellen was no monster.

Her
heart thudded against her rib cage like playing a xylophone.

He
was running away. No, no way. She wouldn’t let him.

Some
wild energy took hold of her, some instinct that sent her flying after him. She
didn’t know why or what for, but all she knew was she needed to catch him,
needed to stare into those eyes and memorize every strange, deformed line of
his face.

She
didn’t know why she needed any of this, only knew she had to.

Her
bare feet streaked across the concrete floor then pounded up the stairs.

The
door cracked as it banged closed ahead of her. His heavy steps thundered
through the house matching the beat of her heart.

“Gavin!”
she called out again.

She
caught a glimpse of retreating flannel and fitted blue jeans as he turned up
the stairs. Hope and excitement burst inside her. She was going to see him, she
was going to win this time.

She
raced up the stairs, saw his dark figure dart into his bedroom. His brand new
door slammed shut, a lock clicked.

Alicia
flew into it, breathing hard. Her hands pawed at the door handle. “Gavin
MacKellen, open up this door right now.”

Silence
greeted her.

Her
jaw twisted and she beat her palms against the door. “God damn you! Don’t do
this! Just show me already.” She screamed with all her frustrations and fears
and yearnings.

Finally
he spoke, sounding like he stood on the other side of that door. “I can’t do
that. I’m sorry.”

Her
fist banged on the door not once but twice, then three times. “I don’t want
your apologies. I want these games to stop!”

More
silence.

Frustration
peaked and she growled, pulling at her hair and wanting to stomp her feet into
the ground. One step, then two, she backed away from the door.

“The
way you look at me, you want me. I know it and you know it.” She was breathing
hard. “And yet here we are again on opposite sides of the door. I’m sick and
tired of this game, Gavin. Do you hear me? Sick and tired of it. I’m done. I
can’t even get through a week of this let alone a month. I’m just done,
finished.”

She
paced outside of his door, clenching her hands and unfisting, arms swinging in
agitated movements.

“I
said, do you hear me?” she shouted when she got no answer.

“Turn
around.”

She
blinked at the door. “What?” It was like she couldn’t even comprehend what he
just said because it was so out of left field.

“Turn
around and don’t move.”

“Why
should I?” she asked between clenched teeth.

“Because
I’m coming out.”

“You’re
a coward.”

A
ragged sigh, then, “Sometimes a man needs to work through things on his own.
That’s what I’m doin’.”

Glaring,
she spun around and crossed her arms. “Whatever; I’m turned around.” God, she
as so mad she couldn’t even keep still. Her foot tapped incessantly against the
floor.

The
door opened with a creak; it took everything in her not to turn around. In
fact, she was still debating doing just that even though it was a bitch kind of
thing to do. She didn’t like the idea of lying or manipulating to get her way,
because that wasn’t how she operated. She wanted him to show her because he
wanted to, damn it.

Heat
grew at her back as he came closer, reminding her quite suddenly that she stood
there in nothing but lingerie. Oh.

Her
foot stopped tapping as awareness came over her. What was he going to do? Would
he finally show her his face?

Breathless,
she waited. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Her fingers rubbed over her
cuticles in a memorized, nervous gesture.

“Gavin?”

A
cloth moved over her eyes. She started to shake her head to dislodge it but he
reproved her with a gruff, “Don’t. It has to be like this. I can’t…I just can’t
yet. Please,” he said, sounding like a man in pain. “Please give me this.”

Oh
god, he had a way of making her heart flutter and skip beats like a scratched
CD. It was the
please
that did it.

“O-okay,”
she found herself saying. She’d say anything, she realized, if she could only
get more moments like these. Where Gavin was sweet and caring of her, making
her feel special. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her feel like this.
Like she was someone to be taken care of.

The
cloth was a tie that would go with a suit. He wrapped it over her eyes.
Darkness overwhelmed her, stifling her vision. The sound of her breathing sounded
so much louder and harsher like it was being amplified. The heat at her back felt
more intense.

He
touched her shoulders. She noticed everything about his hands even down to the
calloused tips; hands that were used in hard work every day. A man who used
them. A shiver raced down her spine making her twitch.

“Gavin,
what are you doing?”

Blood
raced and rushed, pounding in her ears. The loose end of his flannel shirt
brushed her back making her breath catch. She couldn’t keep her mouth closed,
had to part her lips just to breathe.

“I’m
gonna kiss you.”

“W-what?”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

He
leaned in, infusing her with his heat and delicious scent. He smelled like
warmth and sweat from working—all man. Her mouth watered and a tingle formed
deep in her belly.

“Last
night you said you wanted to kiss me,” he said in that hoarse, raspy voice. “Well,
I’m gonna do it now because I want to. I want it so bad I can’t stop thinking
about it. You drive my thoughts. You make me feel wild,” he said, leaning in
until his face pressed into her hair, burrowing in her neck.

Another
shiver. Gulp.

“You
are the complete opposite of wild, I’d say.”

Soft
lips pressed gently against her bare neck. Goosebumps streaked across her skin
and she shuddered again. Her skin was starting to burn up, anticipation killing
her. She craved him, wanted his hands around her hips, their bodies crushed
together, his mouth on hers. She wanted everything so she could memorize it. So
she could replay the scene again and again.

“Nah,
you just didn’t know me before.”

“Before?”

“Before
I met you. You may not see it, but things have changed around here, especially
for me.”

His
hands started to turn her in a slow circle. She felt like a fumbling buffoon
trying to turn without sight, but she had his hands on her shoulders guiding
her way.

Something
soft brushed her stomach and her muscles flexed to pull herself away from it.
Then the touch came again and she relaxed, recognizing it as his opened flannel
brushing her.

Now
that he had her facing him, Alicia felt herself steadily losing her bravado.
Heck, she hadn’t realized she had bravado until it vanished. Right when she
needed it, too.

Were
they really going to kiss?

Why
couldn’t she get her breathing under control?

Her
ears perked and she almost smiled, almost. Why couldn’t he get his under
control either?

Something
tugged at her hair—his fingers. He was brushing it on either side of her face.
She swallowed hard. It felt good. Really good. The strands tugging at her scalp
creating little pinpricks of pleasure.

The
wait was killing her. Her toes curled into the cold floor. “Are you going to do
it or what?”

That
raspy voice laughed, a strange, morphed sound. “I was working up to it.
Anxious?” he asked, his voice taking on a husky quality.

A
shiver went through her belly. “Maybe I am,” she responded daringly.

He
cupped her cheek, a rough thumb swiping over it, then pressing into the dip at
the corner of her mouth. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever
seen.”

Her
lips twitched with a smile. That’s nice and all, really but… “Are you stalling?”
God, was she really
that
excited to kiss him?

Yes.

“No…”
He cursed. “Maybe.”

“Let
me help you then.” She smiled, reaching to grab hold of the open flannel and
jerked.

A
grunt, and then she could feel him leaning down, so she rose up on her toes.
Blindfolded or not, she knew when they were close, could feel the warmth of his
face, his ragged breaths. He smelled like coffee.

Damn,
but he was tall, she thought, standing on her toes, straining. Heat suddenly
suffused her chest where their bodies aligned, chest to chest. In prime
position, she tossed one arm around his neck to catch him in her trap.

Tension
radiated from him as if he was struggling.

With
her free hand she reached to cup his cheek so she could easily find his mouth.
But he jerked away. “No,” he said harshly.

“I
was just trying to---”

“Forget
it,” he cut her off. He started to pull away. “This was a bad idea. I knew it
wouldn’t work.”

Hey,
hey,
hey.
What was going on here? Suddenly frantic, she grabbed at the
flannel lapels again and tried for blind-chaotic kissing.

Her
lips flew at him, found his chin. Strange textures met her lips, skin with
dips, distortions.

Tension
blasted off of him in waves. Feeling a rush in her blood to hurry, she strained
on the tips of her very toes and aligned their mouths without sight—no easy
feat—and then it was cinched.

She
was kissing Gavin MacKellen.

Without
her vision, everything felt intensified. His lips couldn’t possibly be that
soft to the touch but firm beneath. Could they? She slanted her lips across
his, matching them together.

Warmth,
tingles, flutters, all of the good stuff exploded inside her. Her grip
tightened on his flannel. This was
good
.

Really
good.

Her
tongue tasted his bottom lip then pushed inside. That’s when his shell cracked.
She tasted him, he tasted her, then his tongue met hers and they brushed, wet
and hot. His head canted and took over the kiss.

Oh
my.

A
harsh, wicked sound vibrated from deep in his chest, something close to a purr
or maybe a growl. Then, he was backing her up into the wall, his arm stealing
around her waist and his hand cupping her cheek.

Then
Gavin MacKellen was kissing her.

It
was better than anything she’d ever had before. She thought she’d kissed some
pretty good kissers in her life. Obviously not. Gavin just blew all her other
kissing partners straight out of the water.

It
wasn’t just the kiss either. It was being held in his arms, feeling the heat of
a man, the strength of his body, and—she arched her hips up and found him
straining against his jeans—he was all man.

Then
someone banged on the front door and ruined it all.

He
pulled back with a curse, then before her muddled brain could process it, he
pushed her into her bedroom and closed the door. Before she could even pull the
tie off her face she heard the lock click closed.

She
banged on the door. “God dammit, Gavin!”

* * * * *

Whoever
was on the other side of that door was getting a beating. Whether woman, man,
or child, he didn’t care, because someone was gonna pay for interrupting his
and Alicia’s first kiss. Then he was going back up there to finish it.

Holy
hell.

He
scrubbed a hand over his face. They kissed.

The
banging at the door persisted. Growling, he threw it open.

“What?”
he snapped.

Jo
MacKellen raised his hands, palms out. “Whoa, there, Gav. You called me,
remember?”