Ultimate Alpha Boxed Set: A BBW and Wolf Shifter collection

by Bolryder, Terry

  Like kissing the nice guy at school, the geek who has always been kind to you when the others were jerks.

  He gets on one knee and is nearly level with my face. His lips tighten as his eyes drop to my mouth, and I know if I don’t move, he’s going to kiss me.

  Do I want to?

  Well, I guess I’ve learned something about all of the alphas when kissing them. Might as well get to know Bradley.

  I lean forward, and his nose bumps mine. He laughs quietly, then tilts my chin and adjusts and comes the rest of the way in, joining our lips together at an angle that fits just right.

  For a second he just holds me there, warm and safe. A smell that’s bitter and floral, yet masculine.

  I can tell everything that is different about Bradley. He’s not like the others. Calmer, subtler. But as his tongue makes a gentle entrance into my mouth and a smooth sweep along my gums that sets my nerves on fire and has me clutching his broad shoulders with my hands, I definitely don’t feel calm at all.

  He stands and pulls me to standing, keeping my lips locked with his, cradling the back of my head and bringing me closer and then wrapping both hands around my waist.

  He reaches for a strawberry and brings it up to my mouth, popping it in and running his hand along my side. I can’t even feel self conscious about my love handles and the way he’s feeling them when he’s watching me with heat in those blue eyes as I devour the juicy treat. He catches a little juice at the corner of my lips and then takes my mouth again, sweeping and searching and licking as I open to him.

  A kiss that tastes like strawberries.

  And feels like a lazy summer day by a lake.

  I sigh deeply and he pulls back, scanning my overwhelmed face until he’s satisfied that he’s made an impression. Then he sucks a bit of strawberry juice off his thumb and gives me a heated glare.

  “Delicious,” he says, voice soft, eyes looking like a deep, tropical sea of pure, clear blue.

  Oh, holy shit.

  I take a step back and bump into the counter, and he grins. “Well, I better go deliver Lindon his breakfast,” I say carefully, putting crepes on a plate with strawberries and grabbing a can of whipped cream that Bradley pulled from the fridge.

  “Yes, I guess you’d better.” He gives me a side hug and I flush. It’s so opposite of what we were just doing.

  Hawes winks at me from the living room. Fifi looks jealous. Of whom, I’m not sure. But jealous.

  “I’ll take one of those,” Fifi says.

  “From whom?” I ask.

  “The crepes,” he says, frowning. “What did you think?” He eyes them intently and turns on Bradley with a pouting expression.

  Bradley laughs. “Alright then, no need to act like a lost puppy. Come get some and distract me while Misty goes up to the young master.”

  “Young master?” I ask, hearing the bitterness in Bradley’s voice. I haven’t heard anyone refer to a young master that wasn’t a butler in an old timey movie or something. So I assume he’s referring to what he perceives as Lindon’s spoiledness. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” he says. Then I realize he didn’t tell me anything about his family. Was that on purpose, or did he just forget?

  Anyway, the plate is warm in my hands and I need to get it up to Lindon.

  “Thanks again, Bradley. Let’s do this again sometime.”

  He licks his lips slowly and folds his arms. “Yes, let’s.”

  Damnit!

  That’s not what I meant and he knows it. But yes, I wouldn’t mind doing that again, I think as I carry Lindon’s food carefully up the stairs.

  Chapter 6

  “Why do you look so moony?” Lindon asks, watching me with narrowed eyes as I set out crepes for us on two plates.

  “No reason,” I say, serving a plate for him and wrapping the crepes with strawberries inside and whipped cream on top. Bradley sprinkled them with powdered sugar and it’s getting everywhere I’m sure.

  “Did you make these yourself?” he asks, giving me a suspicious look when I hand the pretty plate to him. He’s sitting up in bed, wearing soft black sweats that sit low on his lean hips and a tank top that is tight, showing huge, square pecs and a rippled set of abs. I try not to look at his exposed shoulders, so tight and large.

  Something slightly wet hits my nose, and I see him holding a strawberry out to me on his fork.

  “What the hell?” I ask.

  “I was hoping I could interest you in eating some fruit, rather than my body with your voracious eyes.”

  I chomp on the strawberry and yank it from the fork, chewing bitterly at the indignity of always being caught when I’m perving on him.

  I can’t help it. I love the look of him. Light olive skin. Intelligent eyes that are now behind glasses for some reason. I can’t imagine he has bad vision. All shifters seem to have perfect genetics. Their personalities on the other hand…

  I should ask Thor how he’s coming along with my book.

  “How has your day been so far?” he asks, taking a bite and groaning as he chews. “Oh shit, that’s good,” he says, leaning back on one arm. A tiny bit of cream is at the side of his mouth, and I have this unbearable urge to lick it.

  Something extremely good smelling is in the air. Faint, but so impossibly delicious that I can’t resist licking my lips as I watch him. He takes another bite and chews slowly as his eyes close in ecstasy. “Oh, gosh.”

  “The day has been…interesting. And no, I didn’t make it, at least on my own. I had help,” I say.

  He sets the fork down and looks over at me. His face is lightly flushed and he takes his glasses off so there’s nothing between us. The effect is instant.

  Being able to look in his eyes, the scent is stronger, compelling, closer.

  What kind of magic is this man capable of? He leans forward and brushes my cheek with his soft thumb.

  “You have some sugar on you,” he says.

  “Oh,” I say, touching my face where he just touched it. I’m sure I’m bright red at this point. I feel like I have a certain resistance to men in general, due to my life being not full of great experiences with them. But with enough prepping, it’s easier and easier to feel relaxed and aroused with them. And Bradley sort of already prepped me…

  Lindon takes another bite, eyeing me as he chews. Those eyes are like champagne, bright and sparkly. But then they narrow and darken to 24 karat gold. I watch him eat, trying not to let my mouth fall open.

  Each of his movements is almost feline, smooth and calculated, and his body, stretched out in revealing pajamas, is relaxed and supple. I want to feel those pecs that square out from his tank. I want to run my hands down to those lean hips, and then lower.

  No one affects me like Lindon. I don’t know why, it’s just true. And having just been relaxed and happy with Bradley, I don’t have any of my usual prickly defenses. But I guess I need to get some.

  I squirm on the bed, trying to think of something to break up the moment. “So, Hawes was right about you loving food.”

  “Who doesn’t?” he asks. “But I have a particular soft spot for people making food for me. Growing up with a lot of males, I was often doing the prep. Food just isn’t the same when you make it for yourself.”

  “It isn’t?” I ask, watching him bring the fork to his mouth another time. I can’t even bring myself to eat my own food right now. I’d rather devour him with my eyes.

  Then my stomach makes a loud, embarrassing growl and I cover it with a hand and snap my gaze to him, blushing.

  He reaches forward with his fork and cuts a bite of my crepe. Then he gets to his knees and brushes hair back from my face and holds the fork up to my mouth. “Open.”

  I do, lips falling gently open as he swiftly puts the fork in and then removes it. He watches me as I chew slowly, eyes alight with something mysterious. What is it about shifter males and feeding their women and watching them eat?

  He runs his thumb over the corner of my mouth as I fi
nish chewing.

  “See?” he says, gazing lazily in my eyes. “It’s not the same. If I’d made it for you, you’d feel completely different when you tasted it. You’d know my feelings had gone into it, and the taste would be…exquisite.”

  “Oh,” I say. “And how does it taste right now?”

  He blinks up at me. “What do you think?” He finishes the last bite of that crepe and then runs a hand over his taut, muscled stomach. “Amazing.” But he eyes me carefully, and I’m not sure he’s saying that about the food.

  “You know, you’re a very moody person,” I say, pushing my plate toward him.

  He sits up. “I’ve heard that. But honestly, I needed a nap badly. And just knowing Hawes is here lowers my stress level.”

  “You didn’t even get to sleep long,” I say.

  He nods and replaces his glasses. “I don’t need much. We shifters regenerate quickly. Speaking of which, do you have any questions about shifter stuff? Might as well answer during breakfast.” He pushes my plate back to me and serves himself more from the main plate I brought up.

  He’s fastidious about making his crepe, putting the filling in cleanly, folding it up nicely, intently licking each finger in a way that makes me think I know exactly what I’d like him to do with that tongue.

  His gaze flicks to mine. “Damn.”

  “I’m smelling good again?” I ask. “Is it always when someone is turned on?”

  He shakes his head. “Sometimes it’s just our scent. Sometimes, it’s our mood, or even sometimes, our wolf trying to let us know there’s a viable mate around, or let a viable mate know that we’re around. In your case, your wolf doesn’t seem too picky.”

  I flush. What would he know about picky? He hasn’t seen me around the other guys.

  “What’s that look?” he says, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth.

  “What look?”

  “You just…hm.” He sets the plate aside. “So tell me what you’ve been up to since I’ve been gone.”

  I shrug, trying to look innocent as I cut into my crepe. Good time to eat right now. “Not much.”

  “No trouble then?” he asks.

  “Nope,” I say.

  He scoots forward on the bed, sitting up and leaning toward me, towering over me.

  I look up at him warily. His outer lashes are extra long and dark, giving him a natural cat eye look with those golden irises. “What?”

  He reaches for my fork and brings another bite up to my lips. “Open.”

  I do as he says. When I’m done, he gives me another. He watches me the entire time, and I can’t help thinking it’s a bit erotic. Then again, Lindon farting would probably be erotic. He’d probably find a way to make even that sexy.

  I stifle a giggle.

  “What?” he asks, lowering the fork. “Here I am being good enough to feed you and you’re making fun of me.” He wrinkles his perfect nose.

  “No,” I say. “I’d never make fun of you.”

  “Anyway, you’re hungry, keep eating.”

  “I can feed myself,” I say warily, eyeing the fork in his hand.

  “Yeah, but you like this better, don’t you?” he asks.

  I nod, embarrassed but certain it’s the truth. I’ve never had a hot guy feed me by hand and there’s something awesome about it. I guess I should feel like a kid, but when his eyes meet mine and I look over his amazing body, that’s the last thing I feel like.

  I really shouldn’t be doing this. Lindon said we were just going to be friends. Friends feed each other erotically on the bed, right?

  He grins and sets the fork down. “You get enough?”

  “Stuffed,” I say, smoothing my arm over my waist. His eyes flick to my midsection and back to my face.

  “I like my females well fed.”

  “I thought you weren’t interested in liking any females.”

  He licks whip cream from his thumb and eyes me. “I keep trying to say that, don’t I?”

  “You promised,” I said. “That’d we’d be friends.”

  Don’t break my heart, Lindon.

  He puts his hand in the hair at the back of my neck and strokes it gently, stoking the fire in me that only he seems to stoke. Then he pulls me forward and places his forehead to mine.

  “You’re right, I promised.” He lets out a breath.

  “Then again, friends can be friends as long as they aren’t mates, right?” I say, trying to give us both an out that might make us happy.

  Even a broken heart might be worth a few more moments with Lindon.

  The air is heady, full of that smell that smells so good I could scream. It’s completely indescribable, just an explosion of everything GOOD.

  “Those are your pheromones, aren’t they?” I ask.

  “Right,” he says, removing his glasses. “I’m afraid, lately it’s been taking more from me to control them. I’m glad to see you can resist.”

  I grab his face in both hands and pull his lips onto mine, feeling his body stiffen in shock as I lick his mouth, go inside his slightly parted lips and taste the sweetness there, the sour juice of strawberries.

  I try to push him back onto the bed. It’s like my body is moving against my will. Or simply independent. I simply have to have more of him and I have to have it now…

  “Misty,” he says, pushing gently on my shoulders as I push him down on his back and climb on top. His eyes widen slightly in alarm. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t stop,” I say. “I can’t resist anymore.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake,” he says, exasperated. But as he runs a hand through his hair, he looks like he’s as exasperated with himself as he is with me. “Two alphas with extra pheromone powers. This is bad.”

  “Only if we try to resist it,” I say.

  “I can’t mate you,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’ll only hurt me if you don’t give me what I want, right now.”

  “What do you want?” he asks, twirling a long finger in my hair. I like this Lindon. This is the Lindon I saw that night we first kissed. I like the other Lindon too, the one that keeps everything locked up and is controlling and obnoxious.

  But this Lindon is pure sex, and when he’s out, I can’t help wanting to play.

  And the air…it’s just full of molecules telling me he wants me and we’re meant for each other.

  But I’ll settle for a kiss.

  “I want you to kiss me,” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Kiss you?”

  I come down to press my lips to his, taking them bitterly, licking along them like they can somehow put out the fire inside me.

  A low growl from his chest, and then he’s rising up and reversing our position so that he’s on top of me. He runs his thumb over his lips and grins down at me. The walls are all the way down now, and I can tell he’s resisting nothing at all.

  So this is Lindon at full sexual potency. Body pulsing and sheened with sweat. Lips and cheeks lightly flushed, muscles bulging and toned. Position dominant. Face smug and possessive.

  I love this Lindon.

  I could provoke him all day for the chance to see him just once. He’s ruining me for every other wolf in the house.

  He takes a strawberry from the plate and brings it toward my lips, but then he stops and winks at me and places it between my breasts. Holy hell.

  I didn’t realize my shirt was that low. He pulls it slightly lower as he tucks the berry in my cleavage. Then, keeping his eyes on mine, he bends to take it out with his mouth, his lips and teeth gently grazing me as he eats it. He chews and swallows, and then licks over the skin on my chest, making trails of fire wherever he goes. I want to yank my shirt off and give him access to everything.

  His eyes flick to mine and then he’s over me, crushing his mouth over mine, running his tongue over every inch of my mouth, owning me.

  “Lindon,” I moan, and he deepens the kiss, stopping my breath, my speech, my thoughts.<
br />
  Damn.

  “I’ll kiss you, Misty. But I told you, I have to be in control. And my second condition is, I can’t make you promises. This is all there is. I won’t claim you.”

  My heart thumps but my hormones don’t care. Maybe after all of this I’ll just go back to my world and my little apartment and my books. But at least I’ll have a hell of a memory.

  His eyes are sparkling, and when he breathes and his expression changes, I can see he’s just as affected by my scent as I am by his.

  He kisses me again and I realize neither of us really has the power to stop this. It makes no sense for us to be together. He already had the person he loved, and I have a bunch of other men that actually want me.

  But whenever we’re together it’s like it’s only a matter of time before we’re touching.

  He picks up a bit of whipped cream on one finger and puts it to my lips. I lick it off and he seals his mouth over mine, sharing the cream with me, letting the sugar melt over our hot tongues.

  The sweetest kiss ever.

  His hand nuzzles my side, loving my curves. His long body covering mine, his breaths heady and deep.

  Then a knock sounds on the door.

  “Lindon, you in there? I can smell you from a mile away, you know that.”

  Lindon pulls back, freezing, eyes wide. He looks at the door and then down at me with an almost panicked expression.

  I just want to pull his face back onto mine. Perfect lips part as he waits for the person at the door to say more. I want to touch his lips with my finger.

  “That’s not fair, Lindon, you know it isn’t,” Hawes says. “Not unless you’re going to compete.”

  “He can smell you?” I ask Lindon.

  “Hawes has a great sense of scent. Another of his powers.” He lowers his head. “Damnit, I did it again. I didn’t have my guard up and I started to…” He looks me over. “Seduce you.”

  “I wasn’t in control either,” I say, sitting up slowly. “No hard feelings.”

  “Lindon,” Hawes says. “Trees!”