by Jayce Carter
A loud clearing throat broke them apart. The woman in the corner had stopped her writing long enough to toss a disapproving glare their way.
Marshall fought down the growl he wanted to answer with. Tiffany didn’t need him causing her problems at work.
Well, more problems.
He pulled back, took the lemon loaf and nodded at the cappuccino. “Delicious, but I think my heart rate is fast enough.” He reached into his pocket, fished out his business card and pushed it across the table. “Call me?”
She picked it up and tucked it into her back pocket, a grin across her lips. “Oh, I will.”
* * * *
The lock clicked as Tiffany twisted the key. Her feet ached and her shoulder burned. She should have left the sling on, it seemed, but she’d never admit that. Not to Marshall, and not to Kieran who had frowned when she’d left it at his place.
Still, doing what was normal had centered her. She’d returned to her life, to what she knew. She’d spent the day seeing her regulars, lost in the mindless motions she knew so well.
Being a barista worked for her. She had flexible hours that didn’t require her to wake early, and the tips helped her make ends meet. The work was tiring, since eight hours on her feet could wear anyone out, but she loved the constant moving.
Tiffany had always bored easily, hated sitting still, waiting. The movement of the coffee shop, all the little steps that made up the orders, kept boredom at bay.
Her first day back had gone the same way, though Marshall’s appearance had surprised her. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite get a read on him.
He seemed interested, and that kiss of his… She bit her bottom lip as she thought about it, as she remembered the fleeting taste of passion that had crashed over them both before they’d moved apart.
Still, the few times she’d seen him, he’d always stayed out of reach. He’d speak, but always with a pause, as if he had to measure his words. She got the sense he held things back, that he played the part he thought he should.
The kiss was the only part that had felt real.
Real, and as frightening as it was wonderful.
She’d never have thought something could be both, but it was like getting on a roller coaster, those moments of terror combined with the moments of exhilaration.
The only problem? That car.
The black sedan she’d spotted when she’d opened and again during her break. By the third time she’d watched it drive down the street, she’d been shaken.
Then she’d scolded herself for allowing paranoia to get the better of her.
Randy would not turn her into a coward. No matter what he’d done, she’d not turn into a woman afraid of her own shadow. Fuck Randy, because he couldn’t have her confidence. It was what he’d wanted, for her to be afraid, to think she needed some alpha to take care of her, to give up everything to him.
And she refused. Even dead, he’d win if she did that, if she let him have her in that way.
So, she’d gone on with her day, reminding herself she wasn’t running for once. She was legit. With the contract signed, the registry wasn’t looking for her. She could use her real name without issue.
So why couldn’t she shake the feeling something was coming for her? Why couldn’t she relax?
She walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot alongside the building. When she turned the corner, however, parked beside her car was the same black sedan.
Tiffany halted, a hidden, dark figure in the car.
It couldn’t be the same car, right?
But, in a parking lot with no other cars, he’d parked next to her. He hadn’t chosen the twenty other open spots closer to the street, but had instead parked so close she’d have to slide by that car to reach her driver’s-side door. While she refused to be paranoid, she refused even more to be stupid.
The head in the car lifted, silhouette moving, and even though she couldn’t see him, every muscle in her went rigid when he looked at her. Whatever instinct inside her that worked to keep her alive told her to run.
Instead of giving in, Tiffany struggled for calm. She patted down the apron wrapped around her. “My phone,” she said to herself, but loud enough for the car to catch it. She let a muttered curse leave her lips before pulling her keys from her pocket and turning back toward the coffee shop.
Let him think she’d returned to grab her phone.
She passed the door, though, rushing around the corner and out of sight. She yanked her phone from her pocket. Her first impulse had her finger hovering above Claire’s name, but Claire had suffered enough for her.
Instead, she scrolled down and pressed the tile reading ‘Kieran.’
“You never call me.”
“I think someone’s following me.” Her words came out choppy, her breathing heavy despite her not having walked far. Nerves alone stole her breath.
“What? Where are you? What happened?” His voice moved away from the phone. Was he putting on his shoes?
“I saw the same car three times today and now it’s parked next to mine. I don’t know who it is, I can’t see, and it’s probably nothing—”
“Breathe slowly, girl, or you’ll pass out. You did the right thing.” The phone shifted, his voice coming from farther away as if he’d put her on speaker phone. “Your work is fifteen minutes away, but I know someone closer. I’ll text them. Where exactly are you walking?”
“Down Fourth, toward Hibiscus.”
He made a soft sound as though he focused on something else but didn’t want her to think he hadn’t heard her. “Okay. I want you to make a left at the next block, then a right. If the person comes looking for you, I don’t want you on the same road.”
“Fucking Randy.”
“What? He’s dead.”
Her fingers numbed from gripping the phone, from the way her heart pounded against her ribs. “I know he’s dead, but I was never scared before. I’m probably running from shadows like an idiot, all because of him.”
“It’s okay. Better to be safe, right? Better to make a mistake and be safe than to ignore the signs and end up hurt.”
She wanted to argue it, but what was the point? He didn’t understand that she’d never been scared before, that she’d always prided herself on being someone who could stand on her own, who didn’t need to rely on someone.
And what happened? At the first sign of anything wrong, she’d called up an alpha like the stereotypical omega she’d sworn not to be.
He ended the call as the engine to his car roared to life. Not having his voice made her edgy, but she followed the plan he’d set. She turned right, one foot in front of the other. He’d show up, and… Then what? She walked quickly as she told herself off for her foolishness.
As she was ready to call back and apologize, to tell Kieran she’d made a mistake, that she’d overreacted, she turned another corner.
And ran into a large body.
Tiffany lifted her knee, but the body twisted to avoid the strike, letting her leg slide up the outside of his thigh. “Settle down, doll,” a familiar voice said. “I’ve seen that little move before, and I’d like to keep my balls in one piece.”
She dropped her shoulders and lowered her knee. She pulled in a deep breath, her chest loosening. It wasn’t that she expected Kane to fix it all, but knowing she wasn’t alone helped. Before she realized it, her fingers that had shoved at his chest curled in to grasp him.
Until she realized, she had no idea how he’d gotten there. “What are you doing here?”
“Kieran texted me. I live right over there, so I was closer than he was. Said someone was following you?”
She hesitated, the words feeling silly. “I don’t know for sure. I saw the same car a couple times, and the car was parked next to mine, and maybe it was all—”
His soft, chastising growl quieted her. “You did good.”
“Are you going to go look?”
“I wish. I’d like to see who it is and explain it ain�
��t a good idea to fucking scare you, but I can’t exactly leave you here while I do it.”
“So, what now?”
“I’m gonna take you over to my place to wait it out, and Kieran’ll take a look. If someone is following you, it’s best to get you off the street.”
The words hit her along with the reality of being in a closed space with him, in his space. “Your place?”
“Scared?”
“Should I be?”
Kane laughed before tossing his large arm around her. “Yeah, you probably should be.”
Leaving the man who had frightened Tiffany behind tore at Kane’s pride, at his feeling of possessiveness. He wanted to go to that car, to pull the asshole out through the window and beat some manners into him. Sure, figuring out why he was there mattered, but dealing with having frightened her seemed paramount.
The wide, frantic set of her eyes had torn at him. She’d faced off against the attacker in the apartment building without a second of thought, without hesitation or fear. So, that someone had caused this reaction in her?
He tried to keep it off his face, but doubted it worked.
He threw the deadbolt on his apartment, closing them in together. Having Tiffany off the street helped him regain his temper.
Until he turned to find her in the middle of his studio apartment, standing beside his fold-out bed with its shitty comforter. Girl didn’t belong in a place like that, and for a man who didn’t give a shit what people thought, the idea of her seeing how he lived bothered him. He’d never needed much, so most of the money he made got saved.
When she looked like she was about to say something, Kane took the initiative. “The fuck were you doing out alone, anyway?”
She took a step backward. The moment her heel hit the floor, however, she stopped as if the idea of backing away chafed. “I have a life, you know.”
“A short one if you pull shit like that.”
“Shit like that? I went to work, Kane.”
He went to argue but couldn’t find a single thing to say back. She was right, but he hadn’t bitched because she’d endangered herself. He’d bitched because he’d rather she be pissed than see how uncomfortable he was.
Instead, he gave her a snarl and moved into the tiny kitchen. He opened the fridge, pulled out two bottles of water and tossed one to Tiffany.
Girl caught it with ease, though her look could have gelded him.
Seemed she held grudges.
Still, she twisted the top off and tipped it back. The bob of her throat as she swallowed drew his stare. Without meaning to, his brain took a nose-dive down the gutter. He pictured the way her throat would do that when he slid his cock down it, when he used that long blonde hair of hers like a leash and had her take every last inch of him. She’d swallow around him to help with the gagging, just like the way she swallowed down that water.
He realized she’d lowered the water, and her gaze locked on him. Caught.
Kane shrugged and drank his own water, trying to downplay the way his dick throbbed and how his body threw off pheromones.
“Thank you for coming.” The words ripped from her like a consolation prize as she sat on the edge of the unmade bed, the only place to sit since it served as his couch as well.
“Course. Should know me well enough to know I’d fucking help you.”
“Why?”
He sat on the bed beside her. “What do you mean?”
“Why help me? Why do any of this?”
“We’re friends, ain’t we?”
“We’re going with friends? Because what you had pressed against me didn’t feel like just friends.”
“Maybe you don’t have the right sort of friends, then.”
She stretched back, setting her water on the nightstand. “So, you’re going to keep lying? I’m so sick of you alphas. You like to pretend you’re tough, but the bunch of you are cowards.”
“I ain’t a coward, doll, and I suggest you rethink calling me one.”
“Why? You want something, but you’re too afraid to go for it. I might not be as big as you are, but at least I actually risk things.”
He growled low in his throat, a rumble to warn her off the conversation.
The more she pushed, the more he wanted to push back, and neither of them needed that. Hell, they were already on a bed, and it wouldn’t take much to get further.
“Growl all you want—it doesn’t scare me. You sound like a yorkie having a hissy fit. Your bark is bigger than your bite.”
“You ain’t never seen my bite.”
Her gaze dropped down to his crotch. “Well, maybe your bite is big enough, but you have no idea how to use it.”
That was it.
Kane was on her in a heartbeat, taking her lips with his. He slipped his tongue into the warmth of her mouth, because fuck foreplay and teasing. She’d challenged him and he was all up for proving himself to her.
He swallowed down her startled gasp, his weight on his elbow as he pinned her and shifted his other hand down her side. He moved over her ribs, over the curve of her waist where it dipped in, over her sexy hips where they flared out. When he reached the waistband of her black jeans, he undid the button. The zipper flew down next, and he found her warm skin above the line of her panties.
Soft lace separated him from his goal. He nipped her bottom lip as he pulled back to gaze down, to see the strip of skin between her open pants and her shirt.
Pink? Her panties were fucking pink lace. It drew a laugh from him because of how not surprised he was.
Of course she’d go with something so ridiculous. She wasn’t a simple girl, and no matter how tough she kept proving herself to be, she managed to look like sheer temptation.
He moved down to curl his fingers into the waist of her pants, then met her gaze. “You ready to throw in the towel, doll? Ready to admit this shit is a bad fucking idea, like I been saying from the start?”
Her blue eyes hardened, and instead of an answer, she wriggled her hips to work the pants down in his hands.
That spark of fire inside her had him growing harder. He yanked the jeans down, tossing her shoes fuck-knew-where before letting her jeans join them. Her spread her out beneath him in nothing but a shirt and those tempting panties. He wanted to remember it forever, to look back on it once she’d realized how stupid it was, when she’d dropped him flat on his face and he’d need it for those nights.
He’d never had much patience, though, so the first roll of her hips had him pulling free the panties, too. Drenched, and smelling so sweetly of her.
Her legs parted as she let him pull them off, but it caused him to catch sight of something.
Kane grasped her hip and rolled her, getting a look at her ass despite her yelp of confusion. “You want to tell me who left marks on you?”
Her body tensed when he stroked over the red finger marks left on her ass. He’d fucking take apart the asshole who—
She moaned. Fucking moaned.
It was the best sound, throaty and loud and breathless. She did it again when he repeated the motion, and that told him, didn’t it?
Whoever had left ’em, she’d enjoyed the fuck out of getting them.
His cock jerked, pre-cum leaking from it. Sure, he wanted to snap at whoever had touched her, whoever had gotten to pull those sounds out of her, but at the same time? Damn if he wasn’t turned on by the idea of someone spanking his troublesome omega. He pictured her over the lap of an alpha, tears running down that pretty face of hers, ass up and turning pink.
“Kieran.”
Of course, it was him. She was living with the fucker, so it shouldn’t surprise Kane this ended up happening. Still, he stroked the marks again like he could claim them, like they could become his and not Kieran’s, until he rolled her to her back and ran two fingers up her cunt. “So, you two are fucking?” He gathered her wetness on his fingers before seeking out her clit, before rubbing it without mercy.
Watching her struggle to think was too much fu
n.
She shook her head, her back arching up against the rough treatment. “We aren’t.”
“Really? Because you had a lot of say about what ‘just friends’ do and spanking your ass ain’t one of them.”
“He didn’t want to.”
That had him slowing the touch, gentling it. “He didn’t want to?”
Her gaze moved away and fuck the shame that colored those cheeks. “He walked out after he did that. He didn’t want more.”
Kane grasped her chin in one hand to force her gaze to his, his fingers still working her clit. “He didn’t even get you off, doll? Well, ain’t that rude?”
“He thinks I’m too young, too inexperienced.”
“How much experience is it that you got?”
“None.”
The word drew everything to a still. His fingers froze and his breathing halted. None? This delicious, seductive girl beneath him was a virgin? How the fuck was that possible?
Suddenly all the ways she gave in, the longing, the surrender, it all made sense. Girl was beyond needy—she was fucking desperate. She had instincts inside her going crazy, craving something she hadn’t yet tasted.
“Are you going to stop now?” She didn’t try to hide as she asked, a challenge in that voice, but all the bravado didn’t change the truth.
She expected him to stop.
Hell, maybe I should.
It’d take a stronger man than him to pull away with his finger on her cunt and her taste on his tongue.
“Nah, doll, I ain’t going no fucking place until I have you screaming my name.”
Chapter Seven
Kane’s words made Tiffany lift her hips and force his fingers harder against her clit.
She curled her fingers into his shirt to pull him down, but he bypassed her lips. Instead, he kissed along her jaw, licking her racing pulse. Between the kisses, he nipped at the skin, and raised goosebumps in their wake.
Each stroke of his fingers against her clit made her hips roll and her cunt pulse. She dug her nails into his sides, yanking at his shirt, needing more of him. He was giving her a glimpse of the passion she’d dreamed of, and she had to have more.
