Alpha’s Mission_A Special Forces Shifter Romance

by Renee Rose

  “I don’t mind the training. Makes the job go faster. Working alone can get boring, you know.” Charlie rearranges his balls through his thick uniform and affects a gross nose sniff.

  Disgust shows on the agent’s face. “Right. Well, get back to it, then.”

  I purposely knock the mop over again, like I’m Clumserella and hurry to put it back on the cart. “Okay, where to now?”

  Charlie lifts his chin at the next office over, and I wait for him to open it. We both go in, and he shuts the door. I stare at him with wide eyes.

  He holds up a finger, watching the guy’s back retreat onto the elevator. As soon as it closes, we both exhale. Or maybe I exhale loud enough for both of us, I’m not sure.

  “That was close. Do you think he’s suspicious?”

  Charlie opens the door. “I don’t know. Let’s not stick around to find out.” He hustles me away.

  I’m sure we’re going straight down to the parking lot, but Charlie takes the elevator upstairs, to another floor.

  “Where are you going?” I follow him down the dark hall, biting my cheek, so I don’t complain about his excellent night vision. I can barely see until he stops in front of an office and goes in. “Oh no. Are you serious?”

  The nameplate reads Director Edward Scape.

  “Charlie,” I hiss as he moves around the murky shadows. “You can’t bug the Director’s office.”

  Before I know it, he’s out. His kiss brushes my temple as he passes.

  “Just did,” he murmurs.

  We’re halfway to the elevator when it dings. Before the doors open, Charlie presses me up against a door and kisses the hell out of me. I push at him a little, realizing someone is coming down the hall toward us. Then Charlie’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I’m lost—lost, whimpering, and pressing against him as his length hardens against my thigh—

  The lights cut on and I jump. Charlie releases my lips but keeps his hands on me, angling his body to block most of mine from the slick, suited security man standing nearby with an eyebrow raised.

  Charlie flashes a charming smile. “Sorry, mate. Otis sent us on an errand and…” He glances back at me and heat shoots through my body, warming my cheeks. “I saw an opportunity and took it. Just got carried away.”

  “Can I see some ID?”

  Oh holy hell.

  Charlie whips out a badge with his picture and some other guy’s name and flashes it. While the guy’s looking at it, Charlie does some sleight of hand and produces one for me, too.

  I don’t breathe. Not one little wisp of air.

  “You two need to move along, now,” the security man says. His brows are stern, but he looks like he’s fighting a smile. “Have a good night.”

  Charlie cuts a suggestive glance at me. “I’ll try.” They share a little man-to-man smirk, and the guy walks away.

  At that moment, I’m ready to jump Charlie’s bones.

  Sexy super agent man—it turns me on to see how cool he is under all different circumstances.

  * * *

  Charlie

  We’re almost to the elevator when I realize I didn’t completely shut the Director’s door. The elevator is taking its sweet time coming up for us. It’s almost at our floor when the security guard sees the Director’s door, then glances back at us. He hesitates as if questioning his instincts. Two janitors, he’s never seen before, on a secure floor, and we only cleaned one office before leaving. He’s putting the pieces together. I see the moment we’re made.

  “Hey,” the guy turns, drawing his gun at the same time. “Stop right there.”

  Wide-eyed, Annabel raises her hands.

  “Something wrong, man?” I ask, feigning surprise. He wouldn’t have a gun on us if he didn’t suspect something.

  “Stay there,” he orders. “I’m going to check something.” Gun still trained on us, he pulls out a walkie-talkie. I can’t let him call this in.

  I push Annabel behind the janitor cart.

  “Freeze,” the guard shouts and drops the walkie-talkie.

  Before he shoots, I’m down the hall. I grab his shooting arm just as the gun cracks.

  Damn. Pain reverberates through my head—super sensitive hearing reacting to the gunshot. Behind the cart, Annabel squeals.

  “Stay down,” I tell her, in between flipping the man over onto the ground, grabbing his gun, and breaking his arm with a crack.

  The elevator dings. I can’t risk the doors opening, and someone sees this scene.

  I’m back at Annabel’s side before the guy I hit slumps to the ground—lightning fast moves, another gift of the monster.

  “This way.” I grab her hand and walk down the hall. The guy I hit is out—cracked his head on the floor when I flipped him. Otherwise, he would’ve screamed when I broke his bone. I wrap my untucked shirt around my hand to open the door and usher her into the stairwell. “Come on.”

  We hurry down the stairs. I keep my hand on Annabel, steadying her as I reach for my comms unit.

  “Otis,” my friend answers.

  “We’ve been made. Shots fired. Call the police.”

  “Roger.” Otis sounds calm.

  Annabel wobbles and I scoop her up, increasing my speed. I’m tempted to just stand on the railing and jump down few remaining stories. With my newfound strength, I’d probably be fine.

  I resist the urge, and when I reach the bottom, I set her down.

  “That man,” Annabel whispers. “Is he dead?”

  I check my memory—the guy’s chest rose and fell as we left. “He’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve never seen anybody move so fast.” She sounds so shaky, I reach out to steady her, then hesitate. She doesn’t though, just clings to me. She doesn’t know about the monster, but that might not last for long. It’s getting harder and harder for me to hide.

  “Sorry.”

  “What for? You saved my life.” She grimaces. “I guess no one told that guy if he shoots first, he can’t ask questions later.”

  I say nothing, just hold her. After a moment, she steps away on her own. My lungs are full of her rich scent. She smells sweet, like candy. The fear in her has faded—replaced by one strong overriding emotion—desire.

  “Is it wrong that I’m totally turned on right now?” she asks with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “Adrenaline. Common side effect.” I’m two seconds away from pushing her up against the wall and fucking her so hard, she can’t walk for a week. Judging by her scent, she wouldn’t mind.

  Just then a thought occurs to me. “Shit, did you grab the file?”

  With a grin, Annabel opens her coveralls enough for me to see the bit of paper tucked in her shirt.

  “Good girl.” Annabel might want to go in the field, but I’m not ready for that. I can’t think straight around her, especially if she might be in danger.

  “What now?” She looks at me with such trust—as if I’m a hero.

  I hope we find the truth about her father soon. Before she finds out what I really am.

  I reach past her and push open the door—the one marked “Emergency Exit Only - Alarm Will Sound.” The sound starts right away. After a moment, it mingles with the whine of the cop cars filling the parking lot. Blue and red lights wash over the people evacuating the building.

  With an arm around her, I escort her out of the building and blend in with the dismayed and curious staff.

  “False alarm?” someone asks.

  “Probably just a glitch,” another answers. “Stupid sensitive equipment—always malfunctioning.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Otis pull up in his van and stop right on the edge of the lot, blending with the shadows. In the chaos and confusion, no one even glances at Annabel and me as we amble in that direction and blend away into the night.

  7

  Annabel

  I pull Charlie’s clothes off the second we get in the motel room. His growl is pure animal. He yanks my shirt off, pulls down the straps of my bra, and tosses the
contents of my father’s file onto the floor. As much as I want to read it, my blood is humming with need. Here. Safe. Charlie.

  Judging by the hard cock poking me the stomach, Charlie feels the same way. My lips lock onto his as he walks me backward toward the bed, a low rumble coming from his chest the whole time.

  I work the button on his pants while he unbuttons his shirt and shucks it.

  “Clothes off,” he orders as if I’m not working on it. “I need you naked. Now.” I love the urgent command of his tone.

  In a flash, I’m stripped and on my back, legs spread wide. Charlie drops to his knees on the floor and pulls my wet pussy against his mouth.

  “Do you need me to kiss you here, Annabel?”

  I weave my fingers into his hair. “Yes. God, yes.”

  He licks a long line up my slit, then teases me, sucking and nipping my outer lips in between flicks of my clit with his tongue.

  “Charlie,” I moan.

  “Tell me,” he murmurs. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

  “This. I need this. You. Fuck me, Charlie.” It’s not like me to be crude, but then again, it’s not like me to moan like a wanton love-slut either. But I’ve never been faced with the perfect specimen of masculine provider before. If we were hunter-gatherers, Charlie Dune would be the guy all the cave-ladies would be throwing off their animal hides bras for.

  He’s one hundred percent alpha male. The guy you’d want to be on that show Naked and Afraid with. The guy you’d want to break into the CIA with.

  The guy.

  Charlie Dune is him.

  And right now, he’s servicing me. Which seems a little backward, considering he’s doing me all the favors here.

  I sit up—or attempt to which is pretty much impossible because the signal from my brain for lift your head came at the same time my pussy told my back to arch and my tits to skim the ceiling. Somehow, I get up on my elbows and choke out, “My turn.”

  “Oh, honey.” Charlie stands up, stripping off his already open pants to reveal the world’s hardest boner. He picks up my ankles and draws them together, then lifts them high. “You don’t call the shots here.” He smacks my ass three times, then bites one cheek.

  I squeal, and he yanks quickly away, those ever-attentive eyes scanning my face. They glow clear blue. Beautiful, blue. His eyes have the most interesting habit of changing color in the light.

  “Sorry, baby. I’m too rough.”

  I squirm on the bed, inviting more spanking, more touch.

  “No, not too rough. Never too rough. I mean, I like it rough. Please, Charlie.”

  He lays another few hard swats on my ass, then releases my ankles and lifts his chin toward the center of the bed. “Hands and knees.”

  Oh my God. I freaking love it when he gives orders in bed. I’m more excited than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Every cell vibrates with anticipation, with the beginnings of pleasure. I need this man like he’s my next breath.

  I obey him, crawling into position and looking over my shoulder as he rolls a condom over his beautiful cock. He catches my eye and lifts his chin again.

  “Move forward. Brace yourself with the headboard.”

  I love that I’m going to need to brace myself. I crawl forward and lift my hands to grip the iron bed frame.

  Charlie swears as he crawls up. “Jesus, baby. You’re so beautiful.” He strokes his hand up the slope of my arched back and arrives at the back of my head. He curls up a fistful of my hair. “I fucked you as a redhead, I’m going to fuck you as a blonde, and I think you’d better dye this hair dark so I can try you that way, too.”

  My laugh comes out all throaty and low. “Which do you like best so far?”

  He curses again. “That’s the problem,” he complains. “It’s impossible to say. The red was incredible, but you’re an angel blonde.” He slaps my butt and positions himself behind me. “Spread those knees wider, baby. Show me where you want it.”

  My eyes roll back in my head with lust. My pussy clenches just from his words. “Right here.” I hardly recognize my own voice, it’s so husky. “I want it here.” I make a stripper move and reach between my legs for one long, slow stroke.

  “Uh-uh.” Charlie pulls my hand away and slaps my pussy. “You don’t get to touch. Not now, baby. Not unless I give you permission.”

  My belly flutters with the thrills streaking through me.

  “You don’t come until I give you permission, either.” He spanks between my legs again. “You’re going to arch your back and take it rough, the way you like it, and you don’t get release until I say it’s time. Understand?”

  I totally don’t, but I say, “Yes, sir,” anyway. All I know is whatever game he’s playing lights up my body like nothing before. And that’s saying a lot, considering what we’ve already done.

  Charlie lines the head of his sheathed cock up with my entrance and rubs.

  I moan and rock back. He pushes gently and eases in, but I see the tendons standing out in his neck like it’s taking all his effort not to slam into me, hard.

  I appreciate the care he takes. But I definitely want the gloves off.

  “Show me rough,” I dare.

  He growls—that unnerving animal sound again and thrusts so deep, I think he’ll split me open. I lock my elbows and hold firm for it. He stops at the hilt, his growl becoming a purr.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs.

  I whimper and squirm on his cock, trying to get more friction, to convince him to move. He chuckles.

  “Don’t worry, pretty girl. When I start fucking, you’ll feel it.”

  I’m already feeling it. Believe me. It’s just that I’m going to fall down dead right now if he doesn’t—

  Oof. Yes.

  Charlie grips one side of my hips and holds the fistful of hair he took and slams into me. I moan softly.

  “Is that what you need, Annabel?”

  “Yes... yes!” I cry.

  He repeats the action, and I shudder as he fills me, the satisfaction exploding to my extremities—my teeth clack shut, my toes curl. He gives four quick pumps, then another hard, deep one.

  I hang my head and whimper, the need so strong, I don’t know if I can last much longer.

  Charlie releases my hair and palms my hips to drill deeper, smacking my ass with his loins as he pumps in and out.

  I grow dizzy with pleasure, with desire. He reaches around and rubs my clit.

  I choke on a cry.

  “Not yet,” he warns.

  “Please. Oh God, please, Charlie.” I’m babbling now. Not even aware of the pleading words shamelessly spilling from my lips. “Please, more. Please, harder. Please, I need to come.”

  “Not. Yet.” It sounds like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

  He slams in so hard, I fear I won’t be able to keep my arms straight, but then he must realize my dilemma because he wraps one strong arm around my waist to help hold me in place. It brings him closer to me, the thrusts deeper but with less force.

  It’s delicious. I’m delirious. I’m already soaring, my body celebrating the rightness of being taken by him, my soul reveling in how easy it is to be vulnerable with him, to let down my barriers and let him lead. It’s transformational.

  Charlie’s grip on me tightens. His breath snarls in and out. I sense the shaking of his thighs against mine. He lets out a roar and thrusts in and up, almost lifting me from my knees. He pulls my torso back against his chest and taps my clit with a rapid tap-tap-tap.

  I shriek as my internal muscles spasm. I squeeze his cock and pleasure unwinds, ripples through me in waves of pure ecstasy.

  Charlie makes a choked sound behind me and pulls out before I finish, which would be more disappointing if I wasn’t already on Cloud Nine.

  * * *

  Charlie

  Oh, Christ. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I stumble back off the bed and find my way to the bathroom. Something happened when I orgasmed. It was like I was about to shift.


  Only different. My canines lengthened, and a sweet taste came into my mouth. My vision is also domed and sharpened like the monster’s.

  And a terrible desire came over me.

  I wanted to sink my teeth into Annabel’s flesh.

  I throw the condom in the trash and splash water over my face. The teeth still appear long although they’re starting to recede. My irises glimmer a pale blue. Annabel’s told me that happened before when we had sex.

  What the fuck?

  Does a werewolf try to turn his mate? Like a bite at full moon makes her a werewolf too? Or do I actually want to kill her? Is the instinct to hunt and to fuck so close, the animal can’t tell the difference?

  Of all things unholy and wrong.

  I am a monster.

  Annabel’s not safe with me. The full moon is tomorrow, and we’re trapped in the city for the night—nowhere for me to run and hunt, to get this aggressive need out of me.

  How will I survive the night beside her?

  I force a long, deep breath.

  Calm the hell down, Charlie.

  I’ve figured my way out of far more difficult situations. I can easily make up an excuse and spend the night in the rental car or get a different motel room.

  I return to the room and find Annabel pulling on her clothes with her back to me. Something in her stance—or is it her scent—worries me.

  She’s hurt. Or embarrassed.

  Fuck. I just pulled out and left her. No post-coital cuddle, no thanks, no nothing.

  I walk swiftly to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. My lips seek the tender skin behind her ear.

  “I’m sorry.” Better to own this than to pretend nothing happened. “Being with you is intense for me. I’m not used to experiencing much feeling to anything. I just had to catch my breath for a second.”

  She turns in my arms. I was right, vulnerability is scrawled across her beautiful face.

  “What do you mean?”

  I mean I sprouted fangs and almost ripped you apart.

  Hell.