Ultimate Alpha Boxed Set: A BBW and Wolf Shifter collection

by Bolryder, Terry

  “Oh, right, as a frumpy, lonely librarian,” he retorts.

  “I worked at a bookstore!” I snap back. But his words sting. “You’re right. My life was lame. But that doesn’t mean I was meant to be used as bait.”

  “You weren’t bait, Misty.”

  “Call it what you want,” I say. “But if I’m not part of the plan then you all were using me.” I eye him scornfully. “Your father is awful.”

  He’s speechless, that big brain of his racing but seemingly not able to come up with anything to say. There isn’t anything to say.

  “Do you know what it’s like to drown?” I ask.

  “I didn’t want that to happen to you, Misty. I’d have done anything to prevent it. That’s why I told you not to go out alone.”

  “Anything but tell me the truth, that is,” I mutter.

  He shrugs. “I did the best I could with what I had. If you can’t forgive me, that’s fine. But I’m still here to protect you and nothing changes that. However, I’ll give you your space if that’s what you need.”

  I nod. “That’s what I need.” But my heart aches even as I say it. Even in this big house with so many men, I’ll feel lonely without him to go to. “Goodnight, Lindon.”

  “Good—”

  I slam the door before he can finish and run back to my room. After I shut and lock the door behind me I flop on the bed to cry. Why did my mom have to be right? Why do things that seem too good to be true actually have to be too good to be true?

  A house full of hot guys. And any one of them could be trying to kill me.

  The only guy I trusted was keeping secrets. Still is, including the pheromone thing.

  I close my eyes against the stinging tears and think back to Lindon’s kisses. Even if I had known what was going on, and how much Lindon was hiding from me, I doubt I could have said no to him. And that feels the worst of all.

  Chapter 3

  A quiet knock on my door a few hours later startles me. I put a bookmark on the page where I’m reading and set the book in my lap, wondering who’d be here now. I don’t really want to talk to any of them.

  Why didn’t I stay my usual, skeptical, sarcastic self? Why was I too happy to fall into all of this? Well, I can answer that. I was happy to finally feel like I had a family again.

  It’s been a long time. With how old my adoptive parents were when I was left with them, I was aware that I would be alone for a lot of my life. But I still wasn’t prepared when it happened. And I just kind of shut down.

  The past few days, ever since I met Lindon really, I’ve been waking up inside. But that doesn’t seem to matter now. In fact, I kind of hate myself for it, because that’s why I’m hurting right now. If you don’t hope you can’t hurt.

  I shake my head, not wanting to even open the door to whoever knocked.

  “Misty, it’s Jack, you okay in there?”

  I take a deep breath and rest on the pillow. Who cares if I don’t answer? I think I’ll just stay locked in my room until it’s over.

  “Misty, don’t make me worry, okay? Even if Lindon messed up there’s no need to punish the rest of us,” Jack says.

  I frown at that. That’s a good point, except that one of them could be trying to kill me and I have no idea who at this point.

  “Sure, some of us are going downstairs to play some basketball. You could either join or watch.”

  I check the clock by the side of the bed. I’ve been hiding in here for hours. It’s not really fair to the guys that are here trying to get to know me. We’re all in this together, basically. I sit up, groaning.

  “You okay? Is that a yes?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say. “I’ll be down in a few minutes. I need to change.”

  “Great, you’ll play?”

  “I don’t know. I might just watch,” I say.

  “As long as we don’t have any guys injured trying to show off.”

  “Just a risk you’ll have to take, I guess,” I say, grinning at the banter. Jack is one of the most mysterious of the guys, and the second one I’ve kissed. But he was always near the top of my list and I’m glad to see him coming to pull me out of my bubble and proving himself to be the man I was hoping he was.

  It’s time to start getting to know the guys with Lindon truly off the table as an option.

  “Okay, you want me to wait here?” he asks.

  “No, I’ll meet you at the top of the stairs.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  I stretch and walk to my closet where my clothes are hanging. I grab two sports bras, put one over the other for extra support and bounce a few times to make sure it’s not painful, and then pull on a racer back tank top to match and tight black yoga pants that smooth over my love handles. I pull my hair back in a ponytail, nice and tight, and smooth it down with a little hair spray. Then I pop on some lip gloss to make my face look a little less drab and sad, and study myself in the mirror.

  That’ll do I guess.

  I put on tennis shoes and leave my room. No one is in the hall and the house seems very quiet. I tromp down the stairs and run into the kitchen for a protein shake. I’m not feeling up to dinner just yet. My stomach feels instantly sick whenever I think about my conversation with Lindon. I pound down the protein shake and grab a water bottle to take with me.

  Jack is waiting by the door to the downstairs, so handsome in his athletic gear that he takes my breath away. I think he’s even hotter now that Lindon is out of my mind.

  His dark hair is brushed back from his forehead and he’s wearing a loose basketball tank top that gives me a liberal view of his shoulders and pecs. His heavily muscled arms taper to fine wrists and beautiful hands. His skin is nicely tanned, and he’s wearing basketball shorts that expose perfect calves. The kind of calves other guys might have surgery to pretend to have. And nice ankles that disappear into large basketball shoes.

  Big feet. Wink wink.

  He laughs at my perusal and hands out an arm for me to take as he opens the door to go downstairs. I take it hesitantly, still not fully trusting anyone, including myself, yet. He leads the way down the stairs and is pleasant and accommodating and not trying to push me in any way, which I appreciate right now more than he knows.

  When we reach the bottom of the stairs, we turn right and walk down a hall. I can hear voices and music from up ahead, behind a door. He opens it and light streams out from a gym where a bunch of men are making noisy footsteps inside.

  He pushes the door aside and I walk in tentatively and the noises stop somewhat as men of all shapes and sizes turn to stare as I walk in.

  “Misty!” Asher yells, tossing his basketball my way.

  I put my hands up to protect my face, because my reflexes aren’t awesome, and Jack blocks the ball with one hand and then catches it with both.

  “Asher, come on, man…”

  Asher blinks. “I called it.” He’s not wearing a shirt, just low-riding track pants and shoes, and a fine sheen of sweat glistens on his bare chest. Hot. He’s flushed from exertion, and I look from him to the other men in the room, who call out to me as I notice them.

  They all seem like they’re too aware that I was upset earlier. Could they hear me crying upstairs? Maybe shifter men are just as bad as regular men at handling female tears.

  “Bradley, Fifi,” I acknowledge. Fifi is wearing a pink shirt with white shorts. Bradley wearing a blue polo and jeans and is staying more on the sidelines, only taking the ball occasionally for a shot from the three point line, which he is surprisingly good at making.

  Lock and Thor are here too, and I wave to them. Thor blushes when I wave, an odd look with his tanned skin, and Lock just winks at me, throwing me off balance.

  The two brothers aren’t here, presumably they’re up resting from the hot springs trip.

  Then the door opens behind us and they walk in, in matching purple basketball outfits.

  As Tom’s gray eyes meet mine and a small grin lifts his lips, I think about the amazi
ng feelings they gave me in the hot springs together.

  But that leads my thoughts to more unpleasant things that followed, and I ball my hands into fists and turn my eyes to the ground.

  “Hey,” Jack says, nudging me with an elbow. “Don’t look like that. Here, make a shot,” he puts the ball in my hands.

  I turn it over in my fingers, smiling. “Well, there is one shot I can make. But I’m too tired to play a game.”

  The guys boo, but then all seem to agree I should at least show them the shot. I walk up to the foul line, and then turn my back to it. The guys stand at the sidelines, arms folded, heads cocked in curiously.

  I lean back to look at the basket, then throw it backwards toward the hoop. It hits the backboard and goes in and the guys erupt in cheers, running toward me. It turns into a mob, and when Asher lifts me in a hug, the others grumble and mild pushing breaks out.

  Asher sets me down to push Thor and Thor shoves him back into Jack, and the whole thing makes me laugh out loud, so hard that I have to hold my stomach until the guys finally notice and stop jostling.

  I wave a hand. “Sorry, sorry. I’m probably a little punchy.”

  A few bashful grins later and the guys are arranging teams to compete, so they can “show Misty who possesses the greatest athletic aptitude and thus who would make a good mate” according to Thor.

  As the guys play, I let my thoughts wander through the past few days, looking for any clues that I was being fooled. I feel better when I realize there’s nothing I could have really done.

  I also feel better watching their healthy, gorgeous bodies. The smiles and the playfulness, the taunting, realizing how much I’ve come to care for these guys in a short time. Any one of them would hurt me if they were the killer.

  Fifi makes a shot and tosses his lavender-gray ponytail over his shoulder. Asher bumps him with his hips to move him out of the way, resentful and angry that Fifi made the shot, and Fifi merely grins and sashays away, waving fingers at him with a wink.

  Thor has the ball now and is charging down the court. He passes to Jack who goes for a layup and makes the shot. He and Thor bump chests while Lock watches them with a grin.

  The teams are Asher, Thor, Jack and Lock on one side, and Fifi, Tim, Tom and Bradley on the other.

  The ball is going the other way now, and Bradley makes a shot from near the 3 point line, a perfect swish. My heart skips a beat. It’s impressive in the way Bradley does best, no cockiness, no competitiveness. Just being good.

  I try to pay attention to the game, but there are so many chests. So many glimpses of abs when a guy pulls his shirt up to wipe his forehead. So many flexing, jumping muscles when a guy puts his arms up to shoot or pass or show he’s open.

  Too many shows of aggression where two hot, tall men bump each other while guarding. Too many sweat tousled heads of thick, gorgeous hair. Too many eyes sparkling from exertion and looking up at me with that pleased, cocky promise when they do something well and they know it.

  I swallow, heating up from just watching them.

  I decide to put the Lindon thing aside. It’s good to know that someone is after me, and I can be safer now that I know. But at the same time, I’m going to enjoy this. I’m going to enjoy it even more just to spite him. And most importantly, I’m going to kiss lots of guys and never kiss him again.

  I promise myself that, not sure if I actually believe me.

  The game ends with Jack’s team winning and some copious chest bumping and man hugging. I really can see them as a pack of wolves playing together. I kind of want to see them all as wolves at the same time, now that I think about it. Some people look a lot like their wolves, and some don’t look like them at all.

  “Alright, what do the winners get?” Jack asks, as the other guys leave to go upstairs and take the penalty of preparing dinner.

  Asher folds his arms and looks at me. “I want something from her.”

  I squirm in my seat. I still can’t believe these guys want me, but they really do.

  Thor straightens and folds his arms as well. “As do I, but I’m not going to share.”

  “Even with your team?” Lock jokes, earning a dark look from both Asher and Thor. He shakes his head with a laugh. “No, me neither. We should have thought this through better.” He throws an arm around Jack’s shoulder, and Jack is laid back enough that he doesn’t seem to mind.

  Damn, he looks hot all sweaty, muscles pumped with adrenaline.

  “Misty?” Lock asks. “What do you think?”

  I put my finger to my lips. “Hmm…”

  “Damn, I want to put my hands on those yoga pants…” Asher says, licking his lips.

  Thor sticks out one hand and shoves him to the ground with one easy movement.

  “Thor!” I say, scandalized.

  Thor just folds his arms again and raises his strong jaw in a conceited motion, whipping dark red hair back off his forehead. “You said you wanted someone like Sylvester. Sylvester protects his own.”

  “Who’s Sylvester?” Lock asks, looking perplexed. A headband is holding his dark red hair back off his face. Jack shrugs.

  Thor goes redder. “Nothing.”

  I grin and put a hand over my mouth to cover it. He’s been reading the book. I think I’ll have to explain the difference between Sylvester’s protectiveness and shoving people on their butts later.

  “Alright, how about we play horse and figure it out?” Asher says.

  The guys agree and the game starts. Asher and Jack are the frontrunners. Thor is better at passing and guarding and dribbling but not a great shot, and Lock is good, but maybe just too laid back.

  I also get the sense he doesn’t like taking anything from Thor. Which kind of stinks, because Lock is still at the top of my list, along with Jack. Some of the others are making their way up, but those two are still my favorites.

  The game ends with Jack as the winner and the others whine, salute me, bump shoulders with the others, threaten Jack with bodily harm if he oversteps his boundaries with me, and then agree head up to dinner.

  Jack just waves them away, that calm but mysterious expression on his face, and my body tenses when it realizes we’re now alone in the big room.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” he says, taking a step forward. “I promise I didn’t call you out here expecting to win something from you.”

  I stand up and walk toward him, arms folded over my breasts. Even in a modest tank top the two sports bras are squishing me up, giving me more cleavage than I’d usually be comfortable with.

  He looks down at me as I get close. After all, he’s nearly a foot taller, and I’m short. He smells of clean mountain breeze, as usual, but with added masculine musk from working out. I kind of want to bury my nose in his chest and let him hold me and just lose myself in his smell.

  Imagine I was somewhere else right now.

  A finger tilts my chin up. “Hey, don’t look so sad,” he says. “I can’t stand it. What’d Lindon do to you?”

  I frown and try to look away but he pulls my gaze back to his. “Misty, you can trust me. Whatever is going on…”

  I blink, hoping my eyes only sting because I’ve been staring at all the men too long, not because tears are threatening to fall. I look over Jack’s handsome, striking face. Rugged, I’d guess you say. But I’m not sure I can trust him. If he’s the killer, then telling him we’re on to him would be the absolute wrong thing to do.

  So I really can’t tell any of the guys.

  “I can’t. I can’t say…” I try to look away and he pulls me back, still gentle, but persistent. His eyes look like they can’t stand my sadness. That’s comforting somehow. “It’s nothing, really,” I insist.

  He studies me with serious eyes, full lips in a tight line. “You sure? Because I have no problem kicking that guy’s ass. I mean, hell, the way he treated me when I first showed up? He’s been asking for it.”

  “You were early.”

  “Eager,” he replies softly, a smal
l grin on his face. “I was eager to meet you, after hearing so much.”

  “So much?”

  “You think you’re the only one who got an info packet? You were super cute, exactly what I was looking for in a mate.”

  “From what I understand, you guys don’t get a lot to choose from.”

  “Well, we could always go to the human world. But yeah, you seemed cute, and you were even cuter when I met you and got to know you, and I suspect you’ll get cuter from here.”

  “Ah, maybe?” I say, feeling myself blush as he rubs a gentle thumb at the side of my temples and down the side of my face, electrifying the skin there, making me aware of just how close he is to my lips.

  He leans down. “But for now, I’ll settle for taking my reward.” Then he leans the rest of the way to capture my lips, and gives me another of those soul shaking kisses I’ve come to expect from this crew.

  While his first kiss was searing and dominant, this one is more surging and powerful, like being hit by an ocean wave. His lips move over mine in a rhythm, and then his tongue crashes against mine as he lifts me up against his chest and I wrap my arms around him. I feel completely home here, completely safe, and that’s what I need right now.

  The kiss goes on, secure in the darkness of my closed eyes and the strength of his arms around me. The tenderness of the arousal building within me.

  I’m not sure why I feel a little like crying, when this feels so good. But he seems to sense it, and breaks off the intense, amazing kiss before I’m ready. He sets me back down on my feet, looking concerned.

  I just can’t believe I was so stupid with Lindon. And I can’t believe I still want him now.

  “You okay, Misty? Hey, don’t cry,” he says, making me aware that my eyes were watering. “Here, let’s talk. Though I reserve the right to continue my kiss when you’re feeling better.” He pats the seat next to me and I sit, hands in my lap, shoulders slightly hunched.

  “I have no problem with that,” I say, sending him a grin. “Your kisses are amazing. It’s just been a long day, and I was bound to get emotional at some point.”