Her Alpha Male
Page 3
That afternoon he’d become disgusted with them all, himself included. He remembered a conversation he’d had with Tony years before when he asked him why he didn’t stand up for his sister? Tony had only told him it would be worse to interfere. Angela had to learn to stand up for herself. Apparently, she was learning to do just that.
After returning from the church ceremony, Angela had orchestrated a meal for all the family and what seemed like the entire neighborhood. He’d watched her smile and laugh, accept compliments about her cooking and stand tall when someone patted her on the shoulder and told her that one day it would be her child they christened. All through it, she’d held her head high.
He’d wanted to tear out the pins holding all that beautiful sable hair in such a tight bun. He’d wanted to strip away the loose jumper that hid her body from view. He’d wanted to take her away and show her how he’d
touch her, how he’d slowly take her pink slip from her body. He did none of these things; instead, he accepted another refill of Vito’s homemade wine and sulked.
Royce had watched her cuddle the baby girl while her parents socialized and only surrendered the bundle when more food and drink were expected. Vito held court in the corner of the yard, his voice blusterous as the day progressed and the empty wine bottles appeared. As the afternoon wore on, Royce was exhausted just watching her continuous movement. When only a core group of family and friends was left, she’d slipped away. He found the kitchen empty and he glanced through the rest of the house, noting the debris and mess still needing attention.
He’d found her on the third floor, just about to pull a huge, baggy sweater over her head when he entered her room without knocking. Again, she didn’t holler or complain at his intrusion. She simply stared him down.
Royce relived the moment as if it were happening right. With his belly tightening in anticipation, he’d closed her bedroom door behind him and slowly walked toward her. She’d changed from the dark jumper into dark, baggy dungarees. He couldn’t stop his hand from rising to her cheek for a second time that day.
“No one would believe you hide this beautiful body under all these layers, angel.”
Her tongue had slipped out to moisten her lips, but she didn’t say a word. She let him take the sweater from her hands and toss it on the bed. He’d backed her against the wall and let his hands run down her arms, across her back and rest on her waist, before tugging her against him. She’d let out a small gasp but didn’t move away, holding his look when his left hand held her hips against his and used his right hand to pull her hair free, which settled around her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful, Angela,” he’d whispered just before he kissed her. She raised her arms to his shoulders and participated in the kiss. He throbbed and knew she felt it. His hips were making small thrusting motions against her, and she’d taken his rhythm without prompting, had taken control of the kiss the way he’d taught her years earlier.
He pulled his lips from hers, and he trailed his tongue down her throat to the mound of cleavage presenting itself from the pink lace. She’d groaned when he had trailed along the line of the lace, when he found her nipple,
already budded, hardening further at the touch of his fingers. He’d slipped the straps down her arms and sighed when she burst free to his waiting lips.
Her hands had gone to the wall behind her to steady her. Royce glanced up and saw her eyes closed, her head thrown back against the wall. He let one hand drop to tease her crotch. When she moaned again, he used both hands to pull the pants down her legs, found her juncture, and lightly stroked her. He latched onto her breast, and with each pull of his teeth, he slid his finger against the pink triangle of silk that covered her. She was hot to his touch, moist and ready.
If it had been any other woman, he’d have taken her against the wall with no second thoughts. But he hadn’t. He’d gone back to the heaven of her firm breasts and stroked her deeper, wanting to give her something rather take. That had been a first for Royce. In the past, women were for entertainment and fun.
Angela had been different. He had wanted to be different. Angela sighed and used her hands to pull his head taking his mouth in a kiss that made his fingers move quicker. She’d taken his free hand and put it breast before closing her fingers over his in a hint of want.
“God, Angela, I shouldn’t be here,” he’d said when her head fell back as his hand stroked her with a different touch.
“Royce,” was all she’d managed to whisper before pulling him back to her mouth. She’d empowered him by saying his name. Her breath came in short pants of need. His fingers brought her to a climax as he suckled her breast. He let his finger slip under the now-wet fabric, and found it impossible not to slip between her lips. She was so tight, even to just his finger. She pulsed around him, and he felt his cock surge at the thought of actually burying himself inside her heat.
She’d groaned louder, and he’d covered her mouth again. Royce gently probed her and kneaded her breast, all the while demanding her surrender. When she came a second time, he felt her contract around his finger and dampened it with her release.
He moved his hand gently from inside her and traced her lips with her own juices just before he licked her lips clean. Satisfied like never before, even though he was still hard and pulsing with the need of his own release, she’d relaxed against him, her head resting on his chest as she clutched his
waist. He held her for a long time waiting for his hard-on to subside and for Angela to come back from her abyss.
When her hand dropped to his crotch and brushed against him, he backed away to give her room to explore him. Her small fingers clasped him and felt him pulse in her palm. Royce watched something new cover her face, a look he’d never seen before. She stroked him once, twice, and each time was rewarded with a surge. Her head dropped, and she started running her damp tongue along his chin and down his throat. She’d stopped to tease his earlobe and whispered his name only once before she moved on, still alternating with little kisses and an occasional nip while other hand unbuttoned his shirt.
Royce knew he couldn’t make love to her no matter how much he wanted to, and the knowledge was reinforced when a door slammed on the lower level and voices came closer. He moved away from her touch. She had opened her eyes wide, but knowing he had no restraint left and remembering this was Angela whom he was touching, he’d already pushed her away.
Fumbling with the buttons his shirt, he backed away from her and paused only once at the door to take in the sight of her. Her hair was tousled, and her lips just hinted at bruised. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment and the touch of his kiss. The back of her hand rose to her lips and pressed against them. She was still leaning against the wall, her breasts high and full, the damp crotch of her panties pushed between her lips, her pants in a puddle at her ankles. He saw her trimmed triangle of soft sable curls glistening from his attentions.
He meant to leave but found himself covering the space between them once again. Angela watched him intently and accepted his kiss, tender this time, with passion and calm. The intensity of their earlier moment was gone. Now, he gentled against her, tasting her one last time. His hands moved to her breasts and carefully pulled the lace over her engorged nipples, his large fingers managing to pull the straps back up over her shoulder’s. He dropped his head and sucked each one through the material one last time before turning and walking straight out the door.
He’d gone downstairs and straight out into the yard. It seemed a long time before he saw her again, this time she was back in the bulky clothes, her hair tightly braided down her back. If anyone noticed the slight
reddening of her cheeks, no one called attention to it. He accepted another glass of Vito’s wine and knew deep inside that he never should have touched her. Understood she hadn’t been touched before and Tony would kill him if he ever found out. But none of it mattered. He could still taste her on his lips mixed with the wine.
He was glad the sun h
ad gone down and the backyard was dark. For the rest of the night, he kept his distance but watched her carefully. He saw her going through the motions expected of her and wondered if she’d ever be free to explore for herself. They never spoke about it that night, even when he helped her dry the copious amounts of dishes.
She’d talked about her work in graduate school in hushed tones, Vito overhearing and adding his opinion it was a waste of time and money to continue with her classes. Nonnie and Vito had several tense words in Italian that Royce couldn’t make out. Angela had turned a deaf ear to them, and Royce wanted to slap some sense into the old man. He knew he was overreacting and pulled back his temper. After all, he was a guest, and he’d already crossed an invisible line with the man’s only daughter.
———
He was stretched out on the floor in Nonnie’s old room, naked except for his boxers, doing sit-ups. Royce figured physical exertion in this direction was his only escape. He’d heard the light tap on the door and watched it slowly open. Angela, a stack of his clean laundry in her hands, reddened as she came into the room.
“Where would you like this?”
“Angela, you didn’t have to do my laundry, but thanks.” Knowing he couldn’t rise at the moment to take it from her, he nodded to the bed. He was surprised when she dropped down onto the mattress, an appraising look in her eye. “Angel?” His mind raced at the possibilities of her visit.
“Relax, Royce. I’m not here for seconds. Although”—she laughed again, and he liked the sound of her voice, a bit husky with a hint of danger—“I would like to talk.”
Trapped by his outward indications of how her visit affected him, Royce dropped his arms over his raised knees. He nodded and waited for her to start.
“I know you don’t understand me, and that’s all right, because deep down, I know who I am inside. The Angela that runs this house has many sides, and I choose which ones to flaunt in front of the family.”
“But—”
“Look, if I’d gone downstairs this afternoon dressed in high heels and a miniskirt with my hair down and makeup on, what do you think would have happened?”
Royce laughed aloud at the idea and relaxed back, letting his weight fall onto his elbows. “What an image, Angela.” They both knew his silence and open appraisal had him picturing just that. “Vito would have a heart attack, Charlie and Ray would swallow their tongues, and Tony would lock you in your room and throw away the key.”
“Exactly.” She dropped down onto her side, her hand propping her head. “So until I’m ready to fight that battle, it’s easier to let everyone think I am what they want me to be. Why make waves now? I’ve got one more semester of school, and I’ve got to establish myself professionally.”
“So in the meantime, you hide under heavy clothes and antiquated hairstyles?”
“That’s one way of looking at it. The other is I choose the times I want to take my hair down and let loose. Whether you believe it or not, Royce, I do have friends and occasionally get out of Brooklyn for a night on the town.”
“All right, so you’re not held captive here, but…”
“Everything in its own time, Royce. If it were up to Papa, I’d be married to the man of his choice with babies by now, and college and grad school never would have happened. Those were fights I chose to take on. My physical appearance is the least of my worries at this point. If being plain makes Papa and the boys comfortable, so be it.”
“Just don’t waste your life, angel.”
“I’m not, Royce. I may be on a different time schedule from most women my age, but I have a plan.”
“God help us when it surfaces!”
She laughed and straightened into a stretch, her arm’s wide over her head for several seconds. Angela dropped her arms and he watched the outline of her breasts move under the sweater.
“I’m sure you’ll hear!” Angela moved gracefully to the door and turned back. “Thank you for today, Royce.” She closed the door behind her, and he heard the click of the door across the hall closing.
Chapter Four
Collapsing onto the floor, Royce laughed at himself. Angela had a plan, and it seemed she wasn’t as rough a stone as he’d assumed. When she was done with her polishing, Royce knew she’d sparkle. He slept that night with her spicy scent on his pillow. He awoke the next morning with Angela standing beside his bed, her plaid flannel robe belted tightly around her waist.
“Morning,” she started and smiled. “I’ve brought coffee.”
“Thanks,” he said, quickly pulling the sheet up over his naked form trying to hide his morning erection that popped to life the instant he recognized her. He raked his hand through his short hair and scrubbed at his face trying to wake himself. She looked different to his sleepy gaze.
“I brought you a going away present,” Angela said with an odd smile.
“A present?” he managed to say and only got a nod. Angela backed away from the bed and turned her back to him. Her sable hair was gloriously loose in a cascade of soft curls down her back. He drew a breath when she dropped the robe to the ground. All Royce could see was brown hair and an extremely short patch of black leather. A long length of thigh exposed under the hem led down strong legs to spiked heels.
Slowly she turned toward him and Royce forgot to breath. Angela wore a tight white shirt that clung to every curve. The neckline scooped much too low and allowed him to peruse the tops of her breasts. The material stretched to its limits over her nipples and displayed her hardened buds proudly. She’d decided to go sans bra for full effect. The material hugged her rib cage and disappeared into the waist of the skirt. Long, straight sleeves hugged her slim arms ending at her wrists, which was exactly where the skirt ended. He realized her makeup was very different than he’d ever seen before. The woman standing before him was stunning.
“Son of a bitch, Angela.” His voice was almost breathless and his tone turned caustic. “You can’t go out on the street dressed like that.” His tirade started and ended with him uttering curse words mixed in with phrases like throw away the key himself and not for anyone else’s eyes.
She smiled at his obvious confusion. Royce realized the exact effect she’d been going for. When he stopped talking he just shook his head and acknowledged her point. “You win, angel. I never imagined. And if you go out dressed like that, men will be falling to the sidewalk at your feet and crashing cars as they pass.”
“Thank you, Royce.” She stood tall and proud, full of attitude and Royce was slightly intimidated. “I just wanted you to understand I realize my potential, and I’ll know when the time to assert myself is right.”
“Yes, you will, Angela. I underestimated you. It won’t happen again.”
“I have class this morning.”
Moving quicker than Angela could, he grabbed her wrist and tugged it behind her. She was struggling to get out of his grasp when he pulled her down, over his legs, the thin sheet little coverage for his bulging hard-on. He managed to get her arm behind her, and she stopped struggling. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs, exposing her heart shaped buttocks. He didn’t resist stroking her cheeks with his free hand, didn’t resist pulling the silk of her panties between them, turning the material into a strip now pressed between her cheeks. With her exposed over him, he ached to touch her and ultimately did. He pinched her skin, and his cock bounced against her belly.
Without thought, he simply raised his hand a foot from her skin and let it come down, alternating sides. She let loose with a tirade of curses in English and Italian, choking back a sob that turned into a husky sigh. His erection started to pulse when his palm print appeared on her porcelain skin and he repeated the spanks several more times.
Royce didn’t know how long he would have continued if she hadn’t reached under her body with her free hand and grabbed his cock with her hand, fisting him tightly only several times before he lost control and shot against her belly, the sheet absorbing his fluid. Neither moved for many moments unti
l their breathing normalized. The frenzy of lust that had started the process was banked.
Angela slowly pulled her wrist from his grip, struggled to crawl off him, coming to kneel beside him, taking his mouth under hers in a kiss that
drained him and re-hardened his cock. Her mouth drew his tongue with the same rhythm her hand had fisted him. Noise below made them realize their time was up. They both stilled until Angela took the initiative.
“As I was saying, I have class this morning,” Her tone was normal, but her cheeks were a bright red, the same color as her rear cheeks, thanks to his hand.
He sat forward and gave her an exasperated look. She laughed. “And I still have to change.” She’d dipped gracefully, grabbed the edge of the robe, and dragged it behind her to the door.
“Angela, how am I supposed to get the image of you in a mini skirt out of my mind?” He didn’t add that he had the image of her palm-stained cheeks now embedded in his mind forever.
She’d hesitated and watched him openly before letting a sly grin tip the corners of her mouth upwards. “Maybe you’re not supposed to.”
She’d closed the door quietly after her, and Royce had dropped back onto the bed with a loud groan. The image of her that morning had been burned into his brain; recalled often, usually at the most inappropriate times; and each time brought his cock to life.
———
She lay awake in her large bed and thought about Royce being so close. She relived the way he’d kissed her in the pantry and sighed as she remembered the way he’d loved her after the christening. He’d freed Angela that day, although he probably never realized it. She wasn’t about to tell him, just yet. What he had done was make her realize that she was a normal woman who needed to get away from her meddling family before she wound up married to the man her father chose.
After he left, she finally made up her mind to change her life. No matter how it turned out, she knew she had to try for her own sanity. Her telling him she had a plan was true, only she needed time to put it into action before she chickened out and wound up the girl her family always assumed she was. Times were changing in the world around her, and Angela wanted the freedom to make her choices for herself as an independent woman of the sixties.