DIRTY ALPHAS: The Alpha Bad Boy Collection

by Franca Storm

  Whoa. I release her hand and force myself not to react yet, to hear her out. If yelling is the way for her to tell me whatever is going on in that pretty little head of hers then so be it. Normally, a woman yelling at me would piss me the fuck off and cause me to react swiftly in a bid to calm the situation down. But, with Em, I think that’s one of her defense mechanisms. She’s like me in that way. She has trouble expressing emotion and being vulnerable in front of someone.

  I watch her blow out a breath and then she continues, “I can’t leave my damn house, okay? I can’t pick up the phone. The most I can do is text and email. And forget about going out on dates and all that lovely stuff that couples do. I’m not normal. I’m fucked up and I know it. And I really don’t want to be reminded of it day in and day out by being with someone who’s always going to be disappointed and frustrated with the way I am. I’ve tried it and it never works. The first little while, maybe. It’s all just sex then. Neither person wants to go out at that point. But beyond that, it just falls apart. Because of me.”

  “Listen—”

  She shakes her head vehemently. “You deserve better. With me, you’ll always be living your life in the shadows. I’ve made my peace with that, but I won’t drag anyone else into it with me.” I see tears welling in her eyes. And then she confesses something that rips at my heart, “It’s no life, Dan.”

  She looks away and I can hear her sobbing even as she tries to shield it from me. Christ, this is the second time I’ve made her cry. Why do I always push people too hard? It’s that fucking dominating, all-controlling part of me that I can never seem to keep in check.

  But, this time, instead of turning away like the dick I usually am, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me, holding her against my chest.

  Several minutes pass before her sobs cease and she looks up at me.

  “I need a smoke. You?” I say, with a grin.

  “How do you know I smoke?”

  “I saw the pack in your car the first day I met you.”

  That earns me an amused smile. I take her hand and lead her through the living room and out onto the balcony.

  I pull my pack of smokes out of my back pocket and hold it out to her. She slides one free and puts it in her sweet mouth. I take my own and then light hers and then mine. I take a satisfying drag as I lean against the railing and watch her quietly for a while. She’s leaning against the railing beside me, still holding my left hand. The afternoon sun is bathing the top of her blonde hair with a golden glow.

  I point to our reflections in the windows and tell her, “That’s why I call you angel. That glow, Em.”

  The sweetest little giggle escapes her as she says, “I get it. It looks like a halo.”

  “Yeah,” I say, squeezing her hand tighter. “You’re unbelievably cute. Do you know that?”

  She blushes and breaks my gaze. Just proving my point, angel.

  “Seeing as though you were honest with me in there, I owe you the same,” I tell her. That gets her attention and her eyes lock with mine. “I only ever intended to fuck you and walk away, Em. It was my goal from the start.”

  I take a quick drag of my smoke, waiting for her to slap me or scream at me.

  But she doesn’t.

  Instead she shrugs her shoulders and says, “Okay.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?” I ask, not expecting such an understanding reaction.

  “Why should it? You weren’t an asshole about it.”

  “You don’t think I was an asshole about it? What kind of assholes have you been dating then?”

  She bursts into a laughing fit. “You might have a point there.”

  My blood boils at the thought of some assholes hurting her. I force down the urge to demand their names, so I can do some damage. Damn, J. He was right. I am possessive and protective over her. I can’t control it either. It just surges up without warning.

  “It didn’t work, Em.”

  “What didn’t?”

  “Fucking you out of my system.” I could have put that a little nicer, but I’m not known for sugar-coating things. It is what it is. She might as well know that. I might have a reputation for being a dick, but I’m not a liar.

  She pulls her hand from my grip and turns around to look over the balcony railing. “It has to be enough, Dan.”

  “Right, because of your little speech about you not wanting to pull someone into the shadows with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  I turn around too and gaze at the town below, the people milling about, going about their daily lives.

  “You don’t know me that well yet. So, you don’t know that I already live in the very place that you do. Because of who I am, because I’m so high-profile, this is what my life is.” I gesture between the penthouse and the street below. “Always on the periphery looking in on people, but never quite with them. I’m not gonna give you a spiel about being a discontented rich guy. But I want you to understand. My car has tinted windows to keep them out. I live in the tallest building on the highest floor to keep that distance. When J and I go out, we’re always in a blacked out limo and we spend our nights sitting in the dark, drinking and fucking about with whoever gravitates over to us. You’ve Googled me, so you’ve seen the photos and the dozens of articles about him and me. He loves it. I don’t. I couldn’t even go out and buy you that morning-after pill myself in case someone saw me. The papers here are connected to the big city rags. It would have been all over the evening news. I can’t risk an incident like that. Not just for me, but for my family’s sake. It would taint their reputation. I already put them through too much of that shit when I was younger.”

  I glance at her and see that her attention is riveted on me. I inch closer to her and whisper, “You’re the first person I’ve met in a long while who’s managed to chase away some of those shadows, Em.”

  She’s grinning from ear-to-ear now. “Okay.”

  “Okay? So, you’re taking back your earlier statement? You don’t want to leave?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to.”

  I lean in to kiss her, suddenly overcome by our closeness. But she pulls away, stubs out her smoke and walks back into the apartment.

  By the time I make it back inside, she’s holding the drug store bag that J brought over. She looks up and flashes me a devilish smirk as she pulls out the package of condoms and asks, “How many of these do you think we can get through before the day ends?”

  Mmm. Challenge accepted.

  “Take the pill first and then we’ll go, angel.”

  Oh, we’ll go all right. Hard-core. No holds-barred.

  Chapter 9

  ~Emma~

  “Ah. I can’t breathe,” I choke out as I collapse on top of Dan.

  He laughs and wraps his arms around me, softly stroking my naked back. “That was amazing and that squeezing thing you did with your tight little pussy was some crazy shit,” he says, pushing my disheveled, sweat-drenched hair out of my face.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. See? There are advantages to relinquishing some control.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”

  I ease myself off his dick and roll off him onto the soft mattress.

  He shifts to face me, his elbow resting on the pillow, supporting his head as he gazes at me. “So, three down. Nine to go,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of the open box of condoms lying on the bedside table over on his side of the bed.

  My eyes flick down his body, taking in the delicious sight of him in all his naked glory. “You’re serious? Again? Right now?”

  “Ten minutes,” he says, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

  “A couple of hours?” I bargain.

  Concern flickers in his eyes. He reaches out and rubs my arm. “You’re sore?”

  “A little.”

  “You’re so fucking tight. I’m not surprised.”

  “Like I said: eighteen months.”

  “I can’t believe that.”
/>   I roll into him and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. “Believe it. It’s true.”

  “One mere glance at you should bring a man to his knees. And the way you fuck? Damn, babe. You’re like a little slice of heaven.”

  “Aww…that was almost romantic,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Almost is pretty much all you’re gonna get.”

  I can feel him staring at me. I look up at him and see that he’s waiting to see my reaction to what he just said about no romance. I decide it’s best not to give him much of a reaction. Why? Because, I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. My mind is focused firmly on the present, not the future. I guess it’s a side-effect of expecting things not to have a future. I wouldn’t say I’m defeatist. It’s just always been my experience. I’ve learned not to expect or hope that things will last for any significant length of time.

  But, right now, here in this moment, everything is perfect. Dan is super human in the sack. The sex between us is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s so intense, so mind-blowing. And he’s…he’s perfect. Attentive and sweet when we’re not fucking. Fiery and a wild animal when we are.

  I shrug and rest my head back against his chest.

  After a while, his fingers brush my right side and he murmurs, “Em?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, looking up from his chest.

  “These scars…how did they happen?”

  I see him staring at the three jagged scars on my right side, a few inches above my hip.

  My breath catches in my throat. My scars! He’s asking about my scars. “I...it doesn’t matter,” I just manage to eke out, before dropping my head back to his chest. Hiding. I’m hiding. I never want to talk about what caused those awful scars. Never. It’s the past. All in the past.

  “It’s okay, angel. I’m sorry I asked,” he whispers in my ear. “Are you okay?”

  I nod my head. “Yeah.”

  We lay in silence for a while, him stroking my hair as I relax again quickly with his soothing touch. Before long, I’m murmuring—or purring—like a damn kitten. I laugh inwardly. It’s what he does to me.

  Five minutes go by before he’s suddenly shifting his weight and sitting up abruptly, forcing me to lift my head off his chest. He keeps doing that. Whenever we get comfortable in one another’s arms, he holds his position for a few moments and then abruptly pulls away. What’s that all about?

  I decide to blow past it and pretend that I don’t notice. We’re just fucking. I don’t want to get too personal with him.

  “Hungry?” he asks, suddenly climbing off the bed. He walks into the bathroom and returns a moment later without the condom hanging from his dick.

  I force myself to look at his eyes and not elsewhere, or we’ll be going round four before I can bat an eyelash his way. My pussy needs a break for a bit.

  As I swing my legs over the side of the bed I can really feel just how sore I am. Dan sure doesn’t fuck gently. Not that I’m complaining. I love how wild and dominating he is, the way he pushes me, making me take more than I think I can, making me come again and again when I think I’m already spent. It’s nothing short of exhilarating.

  I watch him grab his robe off the back of the door and slip it on.

  Then he stops short, suddenly realizing something and eyes me. What?

  Before I can ask, he crosses to his chest of drawers on the other side of the room and pulls open the bottom drawer. He rifles through it for a few moments and then snatches up a shirt and walks back to me as I slide off his bed.

  “Here,” he says, pushing a gray t-shirt into my hand. It doesn’t escape my notice that he avoids eye contact as he does it.

  I take it from him and quickly slip it on over my head.

  When I look back at him, he’s staring at me, looking really nervous. Because I’m wearing his shirt? Come on!

  “It’s just a shirt, Dan. A means to cover up. It doesn’t mean anything more than that,” I tell him, with a bit of a bite to my words. I can’t help it. He’s being ridiculous.

  He snaps out of it and blows out a breath. “Sorry. It just brought back some unwanted past memories.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.” He holds out his hand. “Come. Time to eat. We need to refuel if we’re gonna go another few rounds.”

  I hesitate.

  His eyes narrow, not liking my reaction. “Fuck. I’m sorry, all right?”

  “It doesn’t sound like those memories are in the past, Dan.”

  “It’s a work in progress,” he reluctantly admits through gritted teeth.

  “Look, maybe I should just go. I’ve been here for hours now. It’s a lot for me and it seems like it might be too much for you,” I say, starting to snatch up my clothes from the floor.

  But then his arms wrap around me, pulling my back against his chest. “No. It’s not you. I don’t want you to go.”

  “Dan, it’s fine. I’m not upset.”

  “Stay with me tonight, angel.”

  I crane my neck to look at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve taken a vacation. Besides, one of the perks of being CEO is that I can call in a couple of vacation days without needing anyone’s approval. How about you? Can you take Monday and Tuesday off? I was thinking we could spend some time together.”

  “I…yeah. I guess, I could do that.”

  “Good,” he says, pulling me tighter to him.

  Chapter 10

  ~Daniel~

  “You lied to me! All these months, Isabella!” I bellow, striding towards her and the asshole leaning against her Ferrari. Scratch that: my Ferrari. I fucking paid for it.

  “You were like a lovesick puppy, Dan. So pathetic. So in love with me. You were such an easy mark for us. Rich, trusting and so damn gullible,” she tells me.

  “You fucking bitch! I’ll kill you! Kill you!” I scream, lunging at the guy there with her. I might not be able to take my rage out on her—I’ve never hit a woman and I never will—but he will do nicely.

  J is there before I can make contact. He traps me in a powerful body lock. “Dan, don’t do it. It’s not worth it. It’s just more ammo for her if you strike him.”

  “She’s pregnant, J! With his child! She said it was mine. All these months they played me!”

  “I know. I’m so sorry, brother.” He pulls me back a couple of feet and yells at Isabella and her trashy boyfriend, “Get out of here! Now! You have ten seconds before I call the cops and report that car as stolen property.”

  I watch the two of them hurry into the Ferrari and speed away, taking J’s threat seriously. Little do they know that I’m gonna report the damn thing as stolen anyway. Yeah, payback’s a bitch. Just like her. Fucking con artist whore.

  “Dan, you good now?” J asks, still holding me.

  “Yeah,” I breathe. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

  He releases me and I slump onto the sidewalk. I can’t hold my own weight up right now. I feel sick and weak. I can’t wrap my head around the mind fuck that is Isabella. Everything was a lie. Our love. Our life together for the last couple of years. And, worst of all, the baby.

  “I wanted a kid, J.”

  He kneels down beside me and wraps his arm around me. “I know you did. I’m so sorry.”

  “Fuck, how did I not see this?”

  “None of us did. Not even your mom and she’s normally a great judge of character.”

  Yeah and she set the two of us up in the first place. Fuck if I’m gonna overlook that anytime soon.

  “Shit. I can’t breathe. I feel like I can’t breathe, J. She’s taken everything from me. It hurts…it fucking hurts too much.”

  My eyes snap open and I bolt upright in bed. Not again. Not another nightmare starring that bitch. I fight to catch my breath, to push the memories away. I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not that gullible fool that I was three years ago.


  But as I turn and realize that I’m not alone in my bed for once and see Emma there, a sharp stab of realization hits me painfully in the gut.

  That man is returning. That trusting fool who was open to everything. To emotions. To women. For fuck’s sake, she’s lying in my bed, wrapped around me and wearing my t-shirt. I’ve asked her to spend the next couple of days with me. Just the two of us. I’m headed right down that same path again.

  Emma has this uncanny ability to break through all of the defenses I’ve erected since Isabella. And I don’t even know how she manages it. So, even if I wanted to stop it, how could I?

  I want to let her in. I’m fucking trying, but the twisted, broken part of me is urging me to draw a line. I need to maintain some sort of distance between us. A no-go point. I can’t let her get too close.

  This thing between us is definitely more than sex.

  But Isabella is still in my head. I won’t let the past go, because as soon as I do, the walls will come crumbling down and I’ll be open. If I cure this disease, it’ll leave me open to another.

  But Emma is not Isabella. She didn’t come to me. I seduced her. She resisted me. With Isabella, she drew me in, clawed her way into my life, into my heart. I’m bent because of it. And I swore to myself that I would never let it happen again. That I would never let a woman control me like she had. I’m in control. Always in control.

  It scares the shit out of me that Emma can so easily challenge that control and break me down. Last night she did it several times and I barely even realized it in the moment.

  I know I should push her away, hold her at bay. But I can’t. I’ve never felt like this with anyone and I don’t want to lose it.

  The only thing I can really do is keep my wits about me.

  As soon as I sense anything untoward that will be it. Over.

  I just need to hold on.

  Hold the demons at bay.

  I don’t want to hurt her.

  She’s a fucking angel and she doesn’t even know it.

  Jesus, I’m in so deep already.

  Let’s hope that if the time does come and those warnings spark in my head, that I can pull myself out of this. I just hope to Christ that it doesn’t come to that.