Alpha Mail

by Brenda Rothert

  Ryan’s gaze darkens as it roams my body, and I feel like a goddess. I never knew it was possible to feel so punch drunk on someone’s reactions to me. As I slide out of my jeans, his eyes can’t seem to keep up. He’s looking at every inch of me, his breathing getting faster.

  “In the bedroom,” he murmurs, taking my hand to lead the way.

  He strips off his t-shirt and slides down his shorts as I lie back on the bed. Every nerve ending in my body is on alert, buzzing with hot awareness. When Ryan climbs on top of me, instinct takes over.

  I don’t have to think anymore. I just feel, completely overwhelmed by the sensations. His stubble brushes across every inch of my skin as he delivers on his earlier promise, slowly touching every inch of me.

  It’s not like it’s been with other men. With Ryan, I don’t worry about pretense. I don’t feel self-conscious. When I need to, I take one of his hands and slide it across my stomach and down between my legs, eliciting a groan from him.

  There’s nothing I won’t give Ryan, and there’s nothing I won’t take. I want it all. When he finally unfastens my bra and cups my breasts in his hand, our mingled moans fill the room.

  I realize with sudden clarity what people mean when they say love is a verb. We’ve spoken the words, but here in this room right now, Ryan and I are loving each other as an action. I’ve never felt more adored than I do right now, and I’ve never wanted to satisfy a man so completely.

  He slips my panties off, then takes off his own boxer briefs and rolls a condom over his long, hard shaft. His eyes are on mine as he slides inside me, and I cry out from the wave of pleasure I feel.

  It’s never, ever been like this before. I wrap my arms around Ryan’s waist as we move together, lost in each other. With every thrust that fills me, I’m complete. And every time he moves back, I crave that fullness like my lungs crave air.

  My fingertips dig into his back and my legs hold tight to his hips as I come, whimpering his name as a tear slips out of the corner of one eye. I grind against him, riding out every wave that washes over me.

  He kisses me then, a slight smile dancing on his lips. And then, he fills me again, this time with a hard intensity that makes me swear and immediately beg for more.

  It’s hot and fast this time, and when he hooks a hand behind one of my legs and sinks in just a bit further, I bite down on his neck and he groans his approval.

  I’ve never loved a man until now, I realize as we approach the brink together. This is that magical, all-in love I’d pretty much given up on. It’s not something I could explain to anyone, but something I feel soul-deep. Ryan is my one and only.

  The muscles in his neck and shoulders stand out as he holds on to his orgasm, keeping it leashed like a beast desperate for release. When I start to come, he groans with the effort of keeping control, and then, finally, he cedes to the demand, his entire body shuddering with release.

  We’re quiet for a couple minutes, just breathing hard and holding on to each other.

  “Worth the wait?” I murmur against his sweaty chest.

  He exhales a note of laughter. “More than worth it. I hope you know you’re stuck with me now. I can never even look at another woman after that.”

  “I was kind of hoping to be stuck with you for a really long time.” I kiss his chest and lean up on an elbow, smiling down at him.

  He rubs a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, affection swimming in his gaze. “Forever is a long time,” he says softly. “And yet, not long enough.”

  “I love you, Ryan. More than I can even say. I love you more than Starbucks.”

  He gives me the playful grin that makes my pulse pound. “High praise, babe. More than Oreos?”

  “So much more than Oreos. I’d give up Oreos for you.” I pretend to consider. “I mean, all but the double-stuffed ones.”

  In a flash, he flips me onto my back and leans over me, his gaze hungry once again. “I’ll double stuff you, baby.”

  I laugh and run my foot up the inside of his leg. “Big talk, RoughRider. I thought you were a man of action.”

  With a soft groan, he arches his brows and says, “Valid point. I’ll show you. And you haven’t even seen rough yet, by the way.”

  Hell. Yes.

  He’s right—forever isn’t long enough. But I’ll treasure every moment I get with him, and never stop appreciating the joy we’ve found in each other.

  One Month Later

  RYAN WRAPS ME up in a hug that sweeps me off of my feet. He swings me around, smiling as I grab his cheeks and kiss him.

  “You know how I feel about undefeated football coaches,” I murmur against his lips.

  A satisfied rumble sounds in his throat. “Counting on it, babe.”

  After a close home game, his team just held on to its undefeated record. As the coach, I know Ryan is thrilled for his team, but he’s also got to be looking forward to our post-game celebration.

  After every win, he scores. Usually several times. Often in the shower before he even makes it to bed. There’s something about the sight of his back on the sidelines during games, his broad shoulders and firm, round ass on display, that gets me going.

  When Ryan sets me down, I see a blue flash out of the corner of my eye as Coop flies by with Jack on his shoulders. Jack’s giggle makes me smile, as always.

  At every Oakhurst home game, Jack is now the official Gatorade keeper. He sits next to a giant cooler, opening it and handing out Gatorades to players who want one. When Ryan gave him the job, he lit up like a Christmas tree. Carmen never thought Jack would be part of a sports team in any way, and she still tears up as we sit in the bleachers and watch him proudly doing his job. The players ask him to do other jobs for them, like test out the field before games and hold the ball. I don’t know if they realize how much it means to him, but I’ve considered offering all of them college scholarships and internships because of how much it means to me.

  Ryan wraps an arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “I have to go, babe.”

  I lean in and give him a quick kiss. “Hey, should we take the coaching staff out for pizza?”

  “Sure, sounds good. We can’t stay super late, though.” He arches a brow.

  “Don’t worry. I’m as eager as you are.”

  When he kisses me again, some of his players hoot and holler at us. We don’t mind. Those boys should be so lucky to find what we’ve got.

  Coop takes Jack, still on his shoulders, over to where the players are and they line up, each one giving Jack a high-five on their way into the locker room.

  “Can I take him in?” Coop asks Carmen, smiling sheepishly.

  “Into the locker room?”

  “Yes!” Jack answers for her, bouncing with excitement.

  “Sure.” Carmen’s eyes soften with gratitude toward Coop.

  We watch them leave, and Carmen’s wistful expression matches my mood.

  “Your brother’s pretty great, Sienna,” she says.

  “He is.”

  She turns my way and grins. “And your boyfriend’s not so bad, either.”

  My smile widens. “I can’t freakin’ believe I have a boyfriend.”

  “I love seeing you so happy. You deserve it.”

  “You deserve it, too.”

  She shrugs. “I’ve got all I need right now.”

  I hum my skepticism. “I caught you looking at my brother like a gallon of ice water in a desert earlier.”

  She flushes. “Leave me alone, I’m only human.”

  “Why don’t you let me and Ryan take Jack somewhere next time Coop has a day off and the two of you can . . . hang out?”

  “Hang out, huh?”

  I put up a hand to stop her. “No further details. Ever. He’s my brother.”

  She smiles. “Maybe.”

  We sit down on the bench the players vacated.

  “Funny how hope and happiness can be harder than just expecting the worst,” Carmen says. “It’s so easy to assume nothi
ng will ever work out.”

  “I built a business on that assumption,” I remind her. “But I was wrong.” I wrap an arm around her, the brisk fall wind feeling chilly now. “And being wrong has never felt so good.”

  BRENDA ROTHERT LIVES in Central Illinois. She was a daily print journalist for nine years, during which time she enjoyed writing a wide range of stories.

  These days Brenda writes New Adult Romance in the Contemporary and Dystopian genres. She loves to hear from readers.

  Visit Brenda Rothert at www.brendarothert.com.

  Thanks for reading Alpha Mail! If you enjoyed Sienna and Ryan’s story, I’d greatly appreciate a review on the site you purchased it from.

  If you’re on Facebook, I’d love to have you in my group Rothert’s Readers, where I share the latest on my work and do special giveaways.

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at Newsletter or like my Facebook page at Facebook.

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  NOW SERIES

  Now and Then

  Now and Again

  Now and Forever

  FIRE ON ICE SERIES

  Bound

  Captive

  Edge

  Drive

  Release

  ON THE LINE SERIES

  Killian

  Bennett

  LOCKHART BROTHERS SERIES

  Deep Down

  In Deep

  Drawn Deeper

  Hidden Depth

  STANDALONES

  Unspoken

  Barely Breathing

  Blown Away

  Dirty Work (with Chelle Bliss)

  Dirty Secret (with Chelle Bliss)

  His

  Hooked

  Come Closer

  Protecting Sarina (Kindle Worlds Novella)

  EVERY BOOK I write takes me outside of myself emotionally. To write the thoughts and feelings of my characters, I have to get inside their heads and take myself to the places they’re at. And for Alpha Mail, I had to write about the slow, painful loss of a beloved child.

  I had the framework of the story outlined going in, and it was important to me that Jack have an illness he couldn’t recover from. I want to represent real people and their lives in my books, and there are families out there facing Batten’s Disease and other serious childhood illnesses.

  Outlining the details is one thing. Going there emotionally was quite another. I’m a mom, and there’s nothing I’m more thankful for than my healthy children. To anyone out there caring for a seriously ill child, God Bless You. May you continue to find the strength you need. I used to say, ‘I can’t imagine’, but now, I have imagined, and it’s a dark, terribly sad place to go.

  There are several different kinds of love in this story. Not just Ryan and Sienna’s, but also Carmen and Sienna’s, Jack and Carmen’s, Jack and Sienna’s and Coop and Sienna’s. Those different kinds of love lifted me up as I wrote this. Love isn’t one size fits all, and we all need different kinds of love, not just the romantic sort.

  I truly couldn’t have written this book without the help of my incredible production team. With every book, they pull me through the hard times and celebrate the end, even though it’s inevitably late and leaves them scrambling to do their parts. I can’t say enough thank yous to beta readers Chelle Northcutt, Janett Gomez, Chantal Gemperle and Michelle Tan, line editor Lisa Hollett (who edited most of this book while traveling and still rocked it), copy editor Taylor Bellitto and interior designer/formatter Christine Borgford. These women partner with me to bring you everything you find between the covers of my books. I treasure every one of them.

  The talents of Photographer Sara Eirew and Cover Designer Regina Wamba combined into a cover I’m incredibly proud of. My publicist Jessica Estep was with me every step of the way on this book, cheering me on, listening to me when I was down and getting me motivated with her amazing promo ideas. She is part publicist, part friend, and wholly amazing.

  My friend J inspired a chapter of this book. I’m grateful he cares enough to be engaged in my work and throw out ideas when I need them.

  Hat tips to my assistant Pam Million and my friend Pam Carrion for always being there. They keep things moving when I’m in the cave, and it means everything.

  Biggest thanks of all to every reader who continues to take a chance on my work. I couldn’t do this without you.