Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

“They’re not you, Lexie. They never have been you. That was the problem.”

  Her heart soared. “That’ll do, cowboy. That’ll do.”

  He retrieved his towel and wrapped it around his waist. “Then you’ll stay the night and you won’t go on a date with Kaleb?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Five

  Lexie hummed softly as she walked with a tray of food toward Tyson’s place. His refrigerator was decently stocked, but the one at the main house was more so. The tray had a breakfast casserole on it that the housekeeper had clearly made since her father wasn’t much of a cook. A pitcher of orange juice sat on the edge of the tray and she smiled to herself, remembering dumping the iced tea all over Tyson the day before.

  They’d spent the night holding one another. He’d rolled over and made love to her sweetly and slowly before he’d gotten up to tend to whatever it was he did at first light on the ranch. He’d promised he wouldn’t be gone long, so she’d snuck off to the main house to gather food for fuel.

  Already her body hummed with desire for more of Tyson. The man knew how to please a woman. There was no denying that fact. She rounded the edge of the front barn and stalled as she heard the telltale sounds of Jake Earhart laughing. She’d grown up with Jake around the ranch, much the same way Tyson had been, but under slightly different circumstances.

  She smiled as she heard Tyson’s laugh join in.

  “I know,” he said. “I can’t believe it. It finally happened.”

  “Took long enough,” said Jake with a snort. “Tell me, was it worth the wait?”

  She tensed, wanting to hear Tyson’s answer.

  “And then some.”

  Jake mumbled something she couldn’t make out. When he next spoke she clutched the tray. “How was the sex? Did she freak when you went kinky on her or did you stay below the vanilla radar with her?”

  “I spanked her,” Ty answered, surprising her by being so open about what had happened between them behind closed doors. “She got off on it. Kept askin’ me to tie her up.”

  “Did you?” Jake asked.

  Ty snorted. “Hell no. She’s not ready for that.”

  “Oh man, do you ever owe me a thank you for betting you that you couldn’t get Lexie into bed,” razzed Jake playfully. “Guess I owe you that gelding I promised you. Dammit, I’d been hoping to get a shot at Lexie, but you won fair and square.”

  Lexie’s hand shook so hard that the juice pitcher fell and crashed on the ground, breaking into too many pieces to count. There was a slight commotion before Tyson and Jake appeared around the corner.

  The second she met Tyson’s turquoise gaze, his eyes widened.

  Lexie released the tray, letting the casserole fall to the ground as well. “I was just a bet to you?”

  “What? No.” He took a step toward her, but she backed away. “Lexie.”

  “Don’t speak to me. The sound of your voice makes me sick.” She pivoted on her heels and ran back toward the main house, ignoring Tyson’s calls.

  ***

  Tyson attempted to run after Lexie, but Jake tackled him, nearly slicing the hell out of him on the broken glass on the ground. “Let go of me!” he shouted.

  “Let her go. She’s pissed. Let her cool off before you try talkin’ to her,” reasoned Jake. “She’s mad enough to shoot fire out of her eyes. Give her a bit, Ty.”

  Tyson struggled more and then stilled, his gaze locked on the screen door to the main house as she slammed it shut. Jake was right. Lexie wasn’t in any mood to hear him out. A spasm crossed his face as he stopped fighting against Jake’s restraint. “I stepped in it with her. What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

  “She will,” Jake soothed. He took a step back from Tyson. “Just give her a minute to think….”

  Lexie’s sports car that was rarely used while she was away zipped out of the garage and tore down the long drive. Tyson looked to his friend for wisdom.

  Jake raked a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “She can’t very well be reasoned with if she isn’t here.”

  Tyson’s blood ran cold. “You think she’ll leave town?”

  Jake shrugged. “Let’s take my truck. We’ll follow her.”

  “What happened to letting her calm down?”

  Jake licked his lower lip. “That was before she was mobile.”

  Tyson understood then. Jake was worried because his love interest had skipped town when the going got tough. It took all of him, but Tyson faced his friend and put his hands on his shoulders. “Jake, Lexie is different. She won’t leave. If anything, she’ll stick around to kick me in the junk or something. She has a surprising temper.”

  “You sure?”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” He wasn’t, but he didn’t need Jake’s panic on top of his own. “I’ll give it a bit and then track her down. I’ll make her see reason.”

  Chapter Six

  Downtown Middlefield was alive with people. The high school band played off to the side under the shade of a large tree. The women from the historical society were up front, manning their booth, asking for volunteers. Lexie was there, smiling and assisting in taking names. Her green gaze wavered when it came to him. Her cheeks flushed.

  He stepped forward, removed his hat and held it in his hands. Tension rose through his body with each step he took. He nodded his head to the other older women at the table. “Howdy.”

  The women shared a look and then turned their attention to Lexie. She squared her shoulders. “Are you here to volunteer? If not, the armadillo racing sign up table is over there.” She pointed to the right and then turned her head as if to dismiss him.

  Tyson huffed. “I’m here to speak to you.”

  She leveled her gaze on him. He’d never seen such fire behind those eyes before. “You should hurry to the sign up table. You might have time to squeeze a bet in.”

  The verbal punch to the solar plexus hit its mark. He drew in a sharp breath and nodded. “I deserve that and more. Yeah, I accepted a bet, but not for the reason you’re thinkin’.”

  “You wanted the horse and to get laid.”

  Tyson waited for the women from the historical society to appear shocked and horrified by Lexie’s words. The woman to her left, Mrs. Timeston, nodded and then tsked Tyson. “You young men thinking you can barter women. Shame on you. You tell him, Lexie.”

  Lexie offered a tight lipped smile. “Go away.”

  “No.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He set his hat on the table. “Lexie Garnes,” he said as loud as he could, drawing attention from all around. “I’m not taking one step away from this table until you agree to be my wife.”

  The historical society ladies smirked, as if they’d suspected he’d say as much. He wasn’t sure how the old goats got so damn wise. He looked at Mrs. Timeston. “Tell her to marry me.”

  “Do you love her?” Mrs. Timeston asked.

  “No,” Lexie said.

  Tyson leaned in and put a hand over her mouth. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve been in love with her for years.”

  Lexie grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand off her mouth. “Tyson?”

  He stayed close to her. “I love you.”

  She teared up. “No you don’t.”

  “Dammit, woman. Stop bein’ so stubborn and admit you love me too.” He leaned all the way over the table and put his mouth to her ear. “If you don’t admit it, I’ll spank that sexy lil’ ass of yours for all to see right here and right now. And, I’ll hogtie you. See, I know you want tied up. You begged me. I’m not above doin’ here and now. Best you admit I love you and that you full-well know it. Better admit to lovin’ me too or else.”

  Mrs. Timeston tossed her head back and laughed. “Oh sugar, you best tell that boy the truth.”

  Lexie was a deep shade of crimson as Tyson drew back from her. She shook as she stood. She looked around at the crowd they’d gathered and then bit at her lower lip. She nodded. “I love you, t
oo.”

  With a hoot, Tyson rushed around the table and pulled her into his embrace. It suddenly sounded as if the entire town erupted into applause.

  The End

  About the Author

  Kennedy Kovit loves real men. Men who are raw, sexy, say what they want and know how to please a woman. She loves crafting stories surrounding them and enjoys sharing her views on living in a small town. When not writing, Kennedy can be found enjoying the outdoors. Kennedy Kovit is a pen name for New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Mandy M. Roth

  www.kennedykovit.com

  Rite of Passion

  by Madelyn Porter

  Shana of Themis is proud to be of the female dominated race of the Amazon. Following tradition, she must take the males they have captured into her bed.

  Captain James Alexander was caught answering a distress call, when the Amazon’s overtook him and two of his men. Now, to escape, he plans on seducing his beautiful captor.

  Chapter One

  Here we go again.

  Shana of Themis took a deep breath. As an Amazonian warrior, she much preferred facing a man in battle over meeting with him as a child giver. She liked fighting, liked operating the starships, liked adventure and freedom. It was why she resented being forced into motherhood with a stranger. She’d known all her life that the time would come for her to get with child. Time had not brought her acceptance of the role, in fact, she’d volunteered for several dangerous missions just to put the event off.

  With her waist-length brown hair and blue eyes, she knew she was considered beautiful to humanoid males. In fact, because of this beauty, they seemed to think her less of a warrior and constantly underestimated her. It was a logic she couldn’t understand. Beauty had little place in Amazonian society.

  Tall and slender, her body was muscled from years of exercise, and she moved with a lithe grace and elegance from that training. Her breasts were full, with dark nipples, ones the men liked to touch for some reason. After the first two child giver prisoners had stared incoherently at them, she’d covered her breasts up to hide them from view.

  The Amazons were a warrior cast of women, fighters first and foremost, though some chose to be farmers and laborers. They were self-sufficient, bold. If men were allowed to stay with them, they were no better than slaves—preparing food, cleaning, sewing, orally attending to his mistress’ pleasure when called upon. A man’s place was kneeling before his mistress. If not for their one great purpose, giving children, the women of Cherron might not have bothered with men at all.

  Shana preferred fighting. It was better than toiling away in the fields and much more fulfilling than being subservient to a man like the women in other cultures. She never saw the appeal.

  Frowning, she looked at the metal door leading to male prisoner 564. The door was just one in a long line down the metal corridor.

  This was her nineteenth official effort to conceive a child. The eighteen men who’d come before 564 had failed to get her pregnant. According to Amazonian law, she had to try at least twenty times before she was officially discharged of the motherhood duty. Shana planned on being discharged.

  It was evening on Cherron, sister planet to Earth. Long ago, their race of women warriors came to the planet and set up their own civilization, using portals to go to Earth to find warriors on the male dominated planet for breeding purposes. Now, with the universe more open, they didn’t have to go to Earth to find men. They could kidnap them from starships, or lure them with false signals of distress. Men always seemed to fall for the little woman needs help routine.

  Male slaves were too small to be much good to them as child givers, but their mouths worked just fine when it came to oral stimulation. Of course, it was illegal for the favor to be returned, and such pleasure could only be begotten twice a season from a single slave. It kept the women from bonding with their slaves, and kept the slaves from becoming possessive. If a slave, who had the right to refuse giving oral service, was caught giving more than his share, he was immediately executed.

  The Amazons needed strong, warrior males with good human genes to breed with, to keep their race strong and superior. And, thanks to genetic manipulations, all babies were now female. To keep from forming attachments to child givers, they were only allowed to sleep with a prisoner one time before moving onto the next captive. Once a man succeeded in impregnating a woman, they were often killed. It wouldn’t do if a woman became too attached to the father of her child, or for there to be competition.

  Shaman Cyrsten had instigated the ritual killings nearly thirty years before, after her daughter ran away with a child giver. Cyrsten was said to have hunted down her daughter and her daughter’s lover, slaying them in their bed. It served as a great warning to those who would try to find love.

  Shana didn’t want love. She didn’t feel the need for it. Whatever desires she had could easily be met on her own.

  But, she also didn’t like the ritual killings. She much preferred it when the men were drugged and let go, as in the old days. Or rather, she’d choose to go back to the ancient ways—sending their virgins out to encampments of men, breeding, and running away. Back then, they used to drop off any male children to their fathers and keep the females in their tribes.

  Looking down at her body, she waited for the guard to open the metal door. Her white gown hung limply over her form, hiding its curves from view. She took a deep breath, having timed exactly about how long she’d need to stay in the room before she could leave and not draw suspicion.

  Suddenly, a click sounded and she looked up. The door slid up and Shana stepped inside the cell. Another click sounded and the door silently closed.

  The prison quarters were all the same. A bed was set up in the middle of the room, a man strapped to the top. His wrists were bound to his sides, so he couldn’t fight, and his ankles were tied together, keeping his legs straight. It’d been found that men didn’t need their limbs to be aroused. In fact, many of them needed little more than visual stimulation—thus why Shana covered her figure with the ugly gown.

  Walking over to the table, she eyed the large naked man. He was well formed and she could just imagine the pleasure she would’ve had meeting him on the field of battle. She itched to let him go, to give him a sword, and see what he could do with it.

  The prisoner’s thighs were strong, thick with muscles. His arms were the same, bulging in a way a woman’s never could. She tried to be dispassionate as she eyed his dark skin, his lean hips, his limp member nestled in dark hair. She only had eighteen to compare it to, but it looked larger than the others. It was of no concern to her. She wouldn’t be taking it inside.

  Tilting her head, her face was dispassionate as she walked around him, looking him over as if he were a horse used for breeding. It was about the same thing, only the Amazonian respected and liked horses. He had good features—very masculine in appearance. His shaved jaw was almost square, his cheekbones chiseled and defined. He had dark hair, cut short, graying at the temples. She guessed by his features that he was about thirty-five years. His deep-set eyes were closed to her and she knew he slept.

  Stopping at his feet, she continued to stare. If ever she did want a man, she imagined he’d be her choice. He smelled good, a faint trace of human cologne. Usually she liked the smell of sweat and nature, not artificial fragrance, but on him it seemed fitting.

  A knock sounded on the metal door and Shana turned to see the face peering in through the window. The guard’s eyes were stern and Shana nodded once in her direction. The guard would be back to check on her in ten minutes so she’d better get started. Turning back to the prisoner, she froze. Bright green eyes stared at her, making her instantly numb. Now that was a strange reaction to have. She looked down at her chest. Her nipples were tingling—also very strange.

  “564,” Shana stated, her voice even, hard. “You have been given your pills?”

  The man continued to stare at her. His lips curled slightly at the side. A jolt
went through her system. She knew what the reaction was, but she’d only had it alone after prodding her body to respond, or using a slave’s tongue. Never had a man’s look done it to her.

  “I’ll tell you, like I told the others, baby doll,” the prisoner stated. His low voice was like silk. Shana looked down her body, not giving anything away in her expression. “Let me go, or you’ll be sorry. I’ve no wish to be a daddy.”

  Chapter Two

  Captain James Alexander eyed the trim beauty before him. Lucky for him, these women spoke his language, and he’d overheard their plans. Answering a distress call on their way back from a mission, he’d transported himself and two others down to the planet to help out, unaware that it would be a trap.

  They’d been there for three days, and he’d not seen his men, Lt. Commanders, Mitchell and Adrian. After several women made him bathe, their doctors thoroughly examined him, checking him for diseases and giving him an antidote for his military issued birth control.

  Then, while he was strapped to a table much like the one he was on, the female doctors rubbed and pulled on his shaft with their hands to make sure he could get hard, fondling and measuring his balls until he was mad with the need find release. Bitches had left him like that too, without climax. Whatever they’d found, they must have needed a second and third opinion, because that’s how many times they did it. Hell, the third time, the woman had used her mouth on him, sucking him like he was a straw. She seemed into it too, and he’d thrust himself up into her tight lips, sure that she’d finally finish him…until they were interrupted.

  Eyeing the beautiful woman before him now, he knew if this woman did it to him for a fourth time, he’d be mad enough to break through his metal bindings and strangle her. He felt his arousal twitch just looking at her. Damn, she had lush lips, just made for pleasing a man. She covered her body, which was strange. Most of the women he’d seen had worn next to nothing—loincloths around their sexy hips and cloth or metal bodices covering just their breasts. In any other circumstance, this planet would be the ultimate male fantasy.