by Jenika Snow
Alpha Male
A Real Man, 14
Jenika Snow
ALPHA MALE (A REAL MAN, 14)
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]
Copyright © June 2017 by Jenika Snow
First E-book Publication: June 2017
Photographer: Wander Aguiar :: Photography
Cover model: Jase Dean
Photo provided by: Wander Book Club
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Line Editor: Lea Schafer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
Book 1: Lumberjack
Book 2: Virgin
Book 3: Baby Fever
Book 3.5: A Real Man: Volume One
Book 4: Experienced
Book 5: Roommate
Book 6: Arrogant
Book 7: Feral
Book 8: Dirty
Book 9: Viking
Book 10: Blacksmith
Book 11: Brutal
Book 12: Kilt Me
Book 13: Mine
Book 14: Alpha Male
Layla
For the last two years Lachlan has been my personal bodyguard. Although I don’t feel in danger and don’t need someone constantly watching me, because it’s Lachlan, I can’t help but feel safe.
I love him.
He is big and strong, with training that makes him deadly. Anyone who is stupid enough to cross him learns that swiftly.
But I’m too afraid to tell him how much I want him. I’m too afraid to tell him that I crave him.
Lachlan
I was hired to be her bodyguard, to make sure she was safe because her father is a senator. But even if her father hadn’t hired me, I wouldn’t have been able to leave her alone.
I love her, want her as mine, and I need to show Layla that she was meant for me.
I need to show her that if anyone looks at her, speaks to her, or thinks they have a right to touch her, I’ll lay them out and not think twice.
She is my world, and no one but me will have her.
I’m done waiting. It’s time I make Layla mine.
Warning: Have a neck brace on hand because this story will give you whiplash. It’s short and to the point, but that’s how we like them. It’s not lacking in the heat department, has an over-the-top alpha hero, and a sweet virgin heroine. No worries, though; you get a safe read with a Happily Ever After and some baby making in the process.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
Newsletter
Coming Next
Excerpt: Mine (A Real Man, 13)
About the Author
1
Lachlan
I watched Layla. Always. But it wasn't just because that was my job. It was because I wanted her, fucking badly. I wanted her to be mine, to never know the touch of another man, to look into my eyes and know I’d take care of her.
“Lachlan, location check-in.” Rocco’s voice came through in my earpiece.
“South building of Pearson Hall. Layla should be heading back to the estate within the next ten minutes. I’ll check in once en route.”
“Copy that.”
I leaned against a tree and watched as Layla spoke to some little asshole that I knew was in her economics class. The possessive side of me wanted to come out and stake its claim right then and there. Hell, I didn’t want anyone looking at her, let alone speaking with her.
I clenched my jaw as I watched him reach out and brush a strand of her hair from her shoulder. I wanted to go over there and beat the little fucker to the ground, but I had self-control, was trained to only make a move if absolutely necessary.
Me going over there and being a caveman, throwing her over my shoulder and stalking away to make my claim, was a bad fucking idea.
But even that small touch the asshole gives her pissed me the fuck off.
She was my job, or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself to make it easier to be around her. But being her bodyguard for the last two years made that an impossible task.
Her father, Jonathan Lancaster, was a senator. Even before that, his connections and social standings had made the wealthy tycoon take extra precautions to protect his family, which resulted in him hiring bodyguards twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
I’d been Layla Lancaster’s—Jonathan’s daughter—personal bodyguard for the last two years, before her father took office. I’d already deemed her as mine, even if I hadn’t been a man and told her.
She’d been eighteen at the time I was assigned to her, freshly graduated from high school and starting her first year of college. And from the moment I saw her, she was all I wanted.
From the moment I saw her, I knew she would be mine.
And I’d made sure during that whole time that she was always my priority, my permanent station. The very thought of somebody else protecting her, didn't sit well with me. I wanted to be the one that looked after her.
She ended up walking away from the douche and heading to her car. Layla was stubborn, but I fucking loved that about her. She was independent, which drove her father insane. That included her refusing to have a driver, which was what Jonathan Lancaster wanted. Instead she drove herself wherever she felt like going.
She could be a force to be reckoned with, and it made me want her more.
But the one thing her father would not budge on was her having a bodyguard.
And I was always here, because fuck all to hell if anything happened to her on my watch.
Layla
I felt him watching me. I always felt him watching me. Lachlan was always close to me, always making sure I was protected. He was this big, imposing man, intimidating and powerful, the bodyguard my father insisted I needed. At first it had infuriated me, made me feel dependent, not like myself.
But the truth was that feeling quickly diminished. For the last two years I’d been in love with Lachlan. I also knew nothing would ever come of it. I couldn’t be with him, not without causing issues with my father. It was that uncertainty that had me keeping my mouth shut and never telling anyone how I felt.
It took a few minutes to get away from Dean, one of the guys in my economics class, who was insistent I go out with him. He’d been pushing me for a date for the last month.
I headed to my car, knowing he was following me, feeling his gaze on me. When I got to my vehicle, I stopped at the driver’s side door and turned to look around. Although I knew he was out there, Lachlan was very good at keeping himself hidden. Maybe he thought his presence was unwanted, or he was trying to be professional. Truth was I wanted him close, but I was too afraid to actually admit that to anybody but myself.
Telling anyone that I had feelings for Lachlan, that I loved him wouldn't be good in the long run. My father would have issues with it for one thing. I loved my family, my father as well, but his standards and morals were old-school.
Lachlan and anyone who worked for him were his em
ployees, the help. Although we had money, my father saw us as more than we were. I hated that about him.
I climbed into my car but didn't start it right away. I sat there for a few minutes just watching the students go in and out of the main building. I had insisted that I didn't want nor need a driver, even though my father wanted me to have one. But I’d agreed to have a bodyguard, as long as he didn’t interfere with my life.
That was before I realized I’d fallen in love with mine.
I finally started the car and headed toward the estate. I’d wanted to stay in the dorm, but again, my father had been too paranoid about that. I didn't fight him on everything, because I knew in his heart he was just worried and looking out for me.
I glanced in my rearview mirror a couple minutes into the drive and saw a dark SUV following closely behind. My heart beat harder, faster.
Lachlan.
He had this effect on me, this pull, this magnetism. God, if he were to ever touch me, pull me under his big, hard body, make me come…
I wasn’t ashamed to admit I fantasized about him more times than not. I’d touched myself, envisioned what it would feel like for him to take my virginity, to pop my cherry … make me his.
I wanted all of that. So much.
2
Layla
I used my fork to push the last of my dinner around on the plate. My mother and father were busy talking about a current campaign he was involved with, and my younger sister, Sophie, was busy on her phone texting her boyfriend.
Truth was I felt out of place most times.
The estate was massive, reeked of money, and the security was ridiculous. Cameras were stationed outside of the property, taking in every angle, and there were usually a few guards posted around the entrances. When I was in my room, I was truly alone, the only privacy I really got.
“I think I'm finished,” I said and glanced up at my mom. It was seven in the evening, a time when most people were relaxed, wearing comfortable clothing and winding down for the evening. But not my mother or father. He was in a suit, and she was dressed up with pearls and a full face of makeup, her hair meticulously done.
“You don't want any dessert?” my mother asked, but she wasn't looking at me. After my father became a senator, she changed. More of a socialite now, she went to garden parties, visited with other political spouses, and tended to be more of a presence in our lives instead of a mother figure.
But with Sophie being seventeen and about to graduate high school, and me turning twenty-one in a few short months, it wasn't like we were children that needed to be coddled. Once I graduated, I planned on moving away, starting my life and new profession away from the political and controlling aspects of my family.
“No, I’m fine.” I stood and left the dining room, and once in my room I shut the door. I stood there for a second, my thoughts instantly going toward Lachlan.
During the evenings he wasn't on the clock. We had enough security detail while at the house that it wasn't necessary for him to be here. But I wanted him here. God, I wanted him here so badly.
Even just thinking of him made my body hot. I felt my nipples harden, my pussy become wet. I walked over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. With summer coming the sun hadn’t set yet, so I could see the guard stationed at the front of the wrought-iron gate.
I could leave if I wanted to, be bold and risqué and find Lachlan and tell him I wanted him. But as soon as I thought that, I immediately pushed the idea aside. No, I wasn’t going to be brazen and contact Lachlan and spill my heart to him. I needed to just forget about it, forget about what I wanted—needed—in my life, and focus on what I did have.
I needed to focus on what I could actually acquire, because Lachlan Stone certainly wasn’t one of the things that I could have as mine.
Lachlan
The next day
She was sitting all alone, the book in front of her, the wind blowing her hair around. I curled my hands into fists, wanting to go to her so damn badly. I had incredible self-control, needed to in order to perform my job with solid composure and a clear head. But when it came to Layla, I wanted to say fuck the control and just go get her.
I was transfixed by the way she looked, by the way she put a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers were long and delicate. I was a dirty fucking bastard for imagining those fingers wrapped around my cock.
My dick became stiff then, this massive rod between my thighs that was pressing against my black cargo pants. Fuck, I wanted her so damn badly. I was surprised I was able to restrain myself as long as I had.
Truth was I didn't think I could last much longer. I wanted to taste her, feel her. I wanted her under me, her legs spread, my cock deep in her pussy.
I reached out and adjusted myself so my erection wasn't noticeable. And then I saw that motherfucker from yesterday walking up to her. This slow sound came out of me, animalistic in quality, possessive in need.
He sat across from her, the smile on his face pathetic. He wanted in her pants pretty badly. If I could tell, I had no doubt Layla could as well.
She was shaking her head at something he said, and I found myself going closer to her, wanting to position myself between her and that fucker.
And then he reached out and touched her hand. She jerked it back, shaking her head even harder. I moved forward then. My legs were long, strong, and I ate up the distance in no time.
I was standing right behind her now, this looming shadow being cast along the table, and the prick stared up at me wide-eyed.
“I think it's time you moved the fuck along and found something else to do.” My voice was hard, harsh. I didn't keep the guttural sound out of it. I didn't even give a shit if this little asshole was afraid. Hell, I wanted him to be afraid. I wanted him to picture me standing behind Layla every time he decided to come up and talk to her.
Even though I saw Layla turn and look up at me, I didn’t stop staring at the fucker in front of me. He didn't say anything, but I could see the way his throat moved as he swallowed, the fear and nervousness coming off him in waves.
He finally grabbed his bag off the ground and left without a backward glance.
Good, he wasn't as stupid as I’d thought he was.
I took several steps back, meaning to just leave and give Layla her privacy again, but I found myself rooted to the spot. She stood and looked up at me, her frame so small compared to my six-foot-four height. She was delicate and fragile, like this flower I wanted to keep in a glass jar so it didn't get damaged.
I didn't say anything for long seconds, but neither did she. Although my job was to protect her, intervening when one of her little asshole classmates put his hand on her, albeit maybe innocently, wasn't exactly in my job description.
Willing my control to come forward again, I gave a slight nod and turned to leave, to give her some privacy, all the while still watching her.
“Wait. Lachlan?”
My entire body tightened at the way she said my name. Over the last two years our conversations had been short, professional. It wasn't my job to make small talk with her, even though I wanted to. But I could count the number of times she'd actually said my first name, and every single time my body reacted like it had been set on fire.
I turned around and faced her, wanting to say a hell of a lot more, wanting to just pull her close and keep her tight against my body. My hands were in tight fists at my sides, my blunt nails digging into my palms. The pain was intense from how tightly I had them clenched, but I welcomed it.
It was a good distraction for the need of coming inside of me, of marking her, making her mine.
“Miss Lancaster?” I clenched my jaw tightly, wanting to say her first name, wanting it to roll off my tongue. That would be stepping over boundaries, crossing lines, though.
I could see the expression on her face, the way she shook her head and glanced away. Whatever she had been about to say, she changed her mind.
“Thanks,” she said, looking at me.
She picked up her bag off the ground and started walking away. I would always stay close, and always have her back.
But what I really wanted was her heart.
Layla
Robin: Wanna come to a party tonight?
I stared at the text message I’d gotten from one of my friends. I was about to reply that I'd rather just stay in tonight, that I could always work on some studying, but the sound of my phone dinging with another incoming text came through.
Robin: I need a wing woman.
I started laughing, imagining Robin trying to get her crush to notice her.
I kind of just thought about staying in tonight.
Robin: Please? Jack will be there and I'm hoping a little support behind me will give me those balls of steel.
I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face. I couldn't say no to her. Besides, staying at home wasn't really what I wanted to do, just what I’d planned on doing. I was going to mope about on what—who—I’d never have.
Lachlan.
Ok. Where's the party at?
Once Robin gave me the address, I got ready, knowing that when I told my father I was going to go, he’d insist on having somebody take me. I wouldn't fight him on this, though, because it was late, and I'd rather be safe than sorry, especially concerning a bunch of drunk people.
I found my father in his study going over papers.
“I’m going to head out to go to a party.”
He glanced up at me, his glasses perched on his nose, his focus trained on me. He didn’t say anything as he glanced at the clock. “It’s late, Layla.”
