Alphas of Seduction

by Victoria Blue

  “What is it?” he asked as he smoothed my hair.

  I hiccupped as I choked out the words. “I just…I had you. You let me have you, and I won’t have you anymore. You’re just so gorgeous—”

  “Hey…” he tried to interrupt me, but I rambled on.

  “We don’t really know each other and this doesn’t make sense…but you let me have you this one time. And I don’t have any expectations, so don’t worry, but part of me doesn’t want it to end.” I finished the last of my line in a partial sob. “I don’t want it to end, Sebastian.”

  He laughed and tugged me closer to him. “Emerie. Listen to me.” He cupped my cheek in his warm palm and my blurry vision tried focusing on him. “You’re the one who said you don’t do well with rules. You can break the one you set, you know.”

  “But…would you…want to spend more time with me?” I asked cautiously.

  “That’s why I asked if you wanted to rethink it.” He grinned and caressed my lips with the pad of his thumb.

  I sniffled back my tears. “You’d let me have you again?”

  “I’d let you have me for as long as you want me, Tiny.”

  Chapter 4

  ONE YEAR LATER

  My phone trilled and I answered with a large smile on my face. “Emerie Sanders speaking.”

  “What are you wearing?” the voice asked, low and husky.

  A thrill ran through me as I tugged at the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “A ratty basketball T-shirt that belongs to my giant, hunky boyfriend.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where is this hunky boyfriend of yours?”

  “Giant, hunky boyfriend,” I corrected. “He’s coming back from a business trip.”

  He hummed, giving thought to his next question. “You didn’t go with him?”

  I let the phone rest in the crook of my neck. “I was very busy and important, brainstorming some fabulous team-building activities for his company’s upcoming retreat.”

  “Really? Does he pay you well?”

  “A shitload. Sometimes in lots of orgasms.”

  “Sounds like he’s a smart, successful man.”

  “He’s kind of a big deal.” I finished clasping my sexy thigh-highs to the garter belt and looked myself over in the mirror. He’d love the new satin lingerie set I’d purchased. He was driving back from the airport and I’d missed him. “Who is this, by the way?”

  I heard a rumble from his throat. “I could be anyone…”

  “Like an escort?” I joked.

  “Don’t go there, Tiny,” he snarled. “What else are you wearing?”

  I inhaled and smirked as I thought it over. “Rollers, a face mask, and boy-shorts.”

  “Sexy,” he deadpanned. “Take a photo and send it to me.”

  I laughed. “I’m not really wearing that.”

  “I know. I was calling your bluff. Tell me what you’re wearing, Emerie.” I recognized his hungry, sex-starved voice. He’d missed me just as much. Even after all this time, he still made my heart flutter. “Are you wearing panties?”

  I gulped. I’d waited for this moment, wondered when it would happen. He’d put it off…too long. I lowered my voice, despite the room being empty. “Are you trying to have phone sex with me, Mr. Stephens?”

  “Yes.” We both paused. I could hear the hum of the car as he drove.

  “You can’t have phone sex. You’re driving.”

  “I can tell you what to do until I get there…which is in about twenty minutes. Plenty of time to make you come.”

  I chewed on the bottom of my lip, my thighs clenched in anticipation. If anyone had told me a man like him would end up being mine, I’d never have believed them. But he was mine. All mine. And he seduced me unlike anyone else ever could. “I don’t follow rules very well.”

  “Trust me, you’ll want to follow mine…”

  “That’s an assessment,” I teased.

  He chuckled. “You and I know by now that it’s a fact, Miss Sanders.”

  He was right. I always wanted to follow his rules… I was just glad I’d broken my own.

  About Anissa Garcia

  Anissa Garcia earned her bachelor’s degree in Speech Communications and English. She held an array of jobs including Public Relations Manager for Barnes and Noble. Wanting a change of pace, she attended The American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and trained full-time in theatre for two years. After working in Hollywood as an actress and casting assistant, she relocated to Austin, Texas, and began writing freelance for Cosmopolitan and other publications. When not writing stories, watching movies, or drinking a latte, she loves to daydream about romantic fictional men.

  A Promise Kept, A Promise Made and A Promise Ignited are available now.

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  Connect with Anissa online

  Visit Anissa at AnissaGarcia.com!

  Chapter 1

  “Why are you nominating me to drag his highness back to the coach?” Sofia Jackson asked, leveling, a glare across the posh tour bus onto Ross Walker—drummer and backup vocalist of the chart-topping rock group, Licks of Leather.

  The man sent her a crooked grin. “Because you’re the assistant. The one who makes sure this bunch of musical misfits all show up to the next gig.”

  More like a den mother to a pack of beer-swigging, pussy-chasing, farting, burping, adult-adolescents, she inwardly grumbled.

  Sofia had only been with Fusion Productions—the industry leader of concert promotions—for six months when her boss and owner of the company, Quinn MacKinnon, decided touring with the band would give her much-needed hands-on experience. So far, the only skills she’d gained by babysitting the five musically talented frat boys were headaches and frustration. Sofia often wondered if instead of grooming her, Quinn’s real motivation was to see how much she’d take before throwing in the towel.

  Hate to burst your bubble, Quinn, but I’m not giving up!

  Determination coursing through her veins, Sofia peered out the window, studying the nondescript brick building. “What exactly is this place?”

  Syd Wilson, the sax, horn, and flute player, lifted his signature fedora off his eyes and shot a glance out the window. “No clue. Quinn shoved Burk”—the band’s golden boy and lead singer with an infuriating ego the size of Texas—“into a cab after the show.”

  “A couple hours later,” Darren Ash, bass player, volunteered, “Quinn texted me this address and said to pick Burk up on our way out of town.”

  “No clue, my ass, Syd,” scoffed keyboard player Ozzy Page.

  “Yeah, we all know Burk’s inside getting his freak on,” Ross interjected with a chuckle.

  Getting his freak on? Sofia didn’t want to know what that meant.

  As far as she could determine, Burk Jennings got his kink all the damn time. How the hunk had the stamina to play hide the microphone with four or five eager groupies after belting out songs and sweating his ass off for three hours was beyond her. Still, it chafed that he’d never invited her to play.

  Whatever weird shit Burk was doing inside that building was his own business. It wasn’t in Sofia’s job description to act as his moral police. She was only responsible for making sure his very fine, lascivious, man-whoring ass made it to the next town.

  Though Burk was a sexy rogue and an egotistical pain in her ass, Sofia wasn’t immune to the seductive smile he often flashed her or the devilish twinkle in his sexy blue eyes. Just looking at the man sent reckless fantasies unfurling in her head. If he ever did decide to hit on her, she’d be hard pressed not to go horizontal with him.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about making that decision. She wasn’t Burk’s type. He’d never look at her with lust brimming in his eyes. Never whisper naughty, sexually explicit suggestions in her ear. Never press his full, sensual lips to hers just because he couldn’t wait another second to taste her.

  Yes, the reality of all that stung like a bitch. But it didn�
��t keep her from fantasizing about the sexy beast when she was alone in her bunk. Instead of setting herself up to be one of his many meaningless conquests, she hid the raw lust he conjured inside behind a mask of icy indifference. Self-preservation came first.

  Still, the idea of walking inside that building to find Burk fucking some petite, gorgeous blonde with a tiny waist and huge tits—the usual choice of band bunny he preferred—sent a wave of dread and envy cresting through her. The dread was understandable. While she fantasized about his cock, thick, hard and ready, she’d rather not put herself through the misery of actually seeing him thrust it in and out of some other woman. Living with him on the bus twenty-four seven made it difficult enough to keep her libido in check. But the inability to stop wanting the man made the accompanying envy—burning like acid in her veins—piss her off.

  “I was trying to be tactful,” Syd said, dropping the hat back down over his eyes.

  “Why start now?” Ozzy chuckled.

  A muted “Fuck you.” was the horn player’s only reply.

  Ross’s impatient stare bored a hole through her.

  “Why don’t you just text Burk and tell him we’re here waiting for him?” she asked.

  “I already did,” he drawled. “Six times. He’s not responding. Sorry, sweet cheeks. Looks like you’re going to have to haul him out of there.”

  Wonderful!

  With a disgruntled sigh, Sofia stood and stormed off the bus. When she reached the entrance to the building, she sucked in a deep breath, yanked the door open, and stepped inside. A large, empty foyer, tastefully decorated in colors of cream and deep burgundy, lay before her. On the other side of the room stood a wooden podium next to a massive wine-colored curtain.

  Muffled voices accompanied by strange slapping and cracking noises filled the air, along with a pungent scent she couldn’t quite place. All of a sudden, a woman let out a loud, long scream that sounded like pure agony. A burst of adrenaline slammed Sofia, making her heart pound hard in her chest. The urge to run warred with a morbid curiosity to find out what kind of place this really was.

  Inching closer to the curtain, Sofia raised a trembling hand. And just as she was about to part the fabric, a mountain of a man—wearing a black leather vest and matching pants—stepped forward, blocking her view. She let out a startled yep and scurried backward as the dude in the badassed biker outfit shot her a scowl. As he raised his arms and crossed them over his wide chest, Sofia couldn’t help but notice the colorful tattoos adorning his beefy flesh. When he narrowed his gray eyes on her, she wished she’d listened to her woman’s intuition and hauled ass out of there when she’d had the chance.

  The Hell’s Angel poster child dragged a disapproving stare over her yoga pants and faded T-shirt. Sofia briefly wondered if she should now start begging him not to kill her. Instead, she bit her tongue and tried to keep from shaking clean out of her tennis shoes.

  “Name’s Drake. Are you lost, little one?”

  She blinked up at the intimidating beast, totally perplexed by the warmth and concern in his voice. Maybe he wasn’t going to rape, murder, and dismember her after all.

  “Um…I don’t th-think so. Hi,” Sofia stammered nervously. “I-I’m here to pick up Burk Jennings. Could you…I mean, would you please tell him we’re outside waiting for him…on th-the bus.”

  “Bus?”

  Sofia nodded and turned to point out the window but discovered a wall had been erected, completely covering each pane. She quickly got the feeling it wasn’t there to keep people from looking out but rather in. That notion sent an ominous chill sliding up her spine.

  The big man lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders.

  He really didn’t need to look even more imposing.

  Shit!

  “I know every member of this club, and there’s no one here named Burk.”

  “Great.” Sofia scraped a hand through her mass of dark curls and sighed. “Now what am I supposed to do? Quinn obviously gave Darren the wrong address.”

  “Did you say Quinn?”

  “Yes. Quinn McKinnon. Do you know him?” Hope bubbled up inside her.

  The tattooed beast neither confirmed nor denied her question, simply studied her a couple of seconds longer. “Wait here. I’ll get Mika.”

  Before she could assure the beefy bouncer she wasn’t going anywhere, he’d turned and disappeared through the curtain. In his wake, a gust of air wafted over her face. Sofia finally recognized the musky scent weighing in the air.

  Sex!

  Well, that was part of it, at least. There was something else tickling her nose, something that weirdly reminded her of the saddle she’d used at horseback riding lessons when she was a kid.

  “Oh, god…yes. Please…please…oh, please…”

  Sofia arched a brow. The woman’s moans sounded as if she were in the throes of orgasm.

  “At least somebody’s getting a happily ever after,” she chuffed under her breath.

  Once again curiosity roared to life, but Sofia quickly doused it and remained far away from the cloth barrier.

  “Master!” the woman screamed.

  Master? What. The. Hell.

  Craving the security of the tour bus, Sofia turned to run when a bald, muscle-bound man with amber eyes and skin a couple of shades darker than hers stepped into the foyer.

  He flashed her a knee-knocking smile as he extended his hand. “Hello, miss. I’m Mika LaBrache. I hear you need to see Burk, is that correct?”

  Stunned by the beauty of the man before her, Sofia didn’t even try to speak, merely nodded.

  “I see.” Mika’s smile widened. “I’m afraid he’s…well, he’s a little busy at the moment.”

  “Oh.” She exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

  “I’d invite you to join me at the bar, Miss…?

  “Sofia…Sofia Jackson. I-I’m Burk’s assistant.”

  “Ah. Well, I’m not sure that Burk would want you to wait with me. Have you ever been to a club like this with him?”

  “I don’t usually join the band when they go…off to party.”

  “I see. Do you know why Burk is here?”

  “Of course,” she lied. “He’s getting his freak on.”

  Mika tossed his head back. Rich, deep laughter reverberated up her spine and spilled over her limbs. Sofia inwardly cursed her neglected hormones. Tonight, after the guys fell asleep, she’d let her fingers do the walking and take away some of her pent- up…stress.

  “Come on. I’ll buy you a soda while we wait for Burk to finish getting his freak on.”

  Something inside Sofia told her this was a bad idea, but before she could protest, Mika wrapped a warm hand around her elbow and led her toward the curtain. An even greater sense of foreboding crawled through her as the strange sounds grew stronger and the carnal scents more potent. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other as they passed into the next room…or rather, a whole other world.

  The minute she realized where she was, Sofia’s mouth went dry. Panic sailed through her system. Still, she couldn’t help but stare, slack-jawed, at the women and men, tied, cuffed, and chained to bizarre pieces of furniture along the walls. Or the men and women who spanked, whipped, flogged, and fucked them.

  Her stomach swirled.

  The air in her lungs froze.

  And for some crazy reason, her pussy woke up, weeping in need.

  Sofia nearly stumbled over her own two feet. But Mika simply gripped her elbow tighter and led her deeper into the depths of the dungeon.

  Oh, she’d read novels about places like this. But never in a million years did she actually believe they existed. The only thing keeping her from turning on her heel and running out the door was Mika’s firm grip.

  “Oops, look out,” he warned, tugging her against his rock-hard body.

  She darted her gaze off the people lining the wall only to realize that she’d almost plowed into a woman carrying several drinks in h
er hands. Sofia couldn’t miss the fact that the woman was barely dressed, or the thick leather collar binding her throat.

  “Sorry. I should watch where I’m going,” Sofia nervously replied as she inched away from Mika’s steely body.

  “No worries. It gets a little crazy here on the weekends.”

  Keeping her focus on the people in front of her, she tried to get a grip on her spiraling anxiety. But the slap of leather on bare flesh and the accompanying whimpers, moans, and screams made it nearly impossible.

  Mika led her to a massive wooden bar before pulling out a tall stool for Sofia to sit on. She took a seat and Mika climbed onto the one beside her. A very pregnant blonde smiled as she waddled toward them. Right behind her, leaning up against the wall, stood an enormous Viking-looking dude. His arms were crossed over his mile-wide chest as he watched the pretty, pregnant bartender like a protective sentinel.

  One thing was certain—none of Mika’s bouncers were little wimpy momma’s boys.

  “Evening. What can I get you two to drink?” the woman asked, absently caressing her round belly.

  “Would you like a soda or juice?” Mika asked.

  “Soda’s fine. Thank you,” Sofia replied with a jerky nod.

  “Make that two, please, Samantha.” Mika smiled.

  “Coming right up.”

  Sofia glanced over her shoulder, skimming the crowd of people gathered at several tables and chairs in the middle of the room. She was specifically trying to catch a glimpse of the singer’s long, sandy-blond hair. Unfortunately, she didn’t find him.

  “Any idea how much longer Burk’s going to be? We’re already a bit behind schedule.”

  Mika swiveled around on the stool and gazed across the room. A slow, knowing smile spread over his full lips. “I don’t think it will be much longer.”

  Following the man’s line of sight, she watched a shirtless dude bend over and remove the cuffs from a light-skinned African-American woman’s wrists. She was splayed across something that looked like a crooked footstool. Fixated on the bunching and flexing of the man’s muscles as he worked the buckles, Sofia couldn’t turn away. When the woman raised her head and locked her dark eyes on the man, he brushed her dark curls back from her face and whispered something in her ear. She flashed the man a lazy, suggestive grin and eagerly nodded. Pivoting slightly, the man lifted his arm to caress the angry welts covering her ass cheeks. Sofia spied the familiar tribal tattoo adorning his bicep.