Alphas Prefer Curves

by Unknown

  “Melodramatic as usual,” Damien said, shaking his head, “but that’s what I love about you. I’m afraid the happiness of others just isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. My plans are for the good of everyone, and I can’t allow the petty upsets of the few to distract from the needs of the many.”

  “The only needs any of your plans serve are your own!” Sonya’s eyes sparked fire. “My parents promised you my body, but they never promised me as a virgin. What I do in the days up to my indentured servitude are entirely up to me. I still have two days left until my twenty-fifth birthday, and you can lay no claim on me until then.”

  Damien’s expression turned ugly, and Caleb realized that as much as Damien gloated at the prospect of forcibly taking things that didn’t belong to him, a part of him wanted Sonya to come willingly. The bastard was probably used to women falling at his feet with his good looks and bags of money, and the fact that Sonya wouldn’t come at his beck and call likely chafed his ass.

  “I think you and I both know that I don’t always play by the rules, Sonya.” His voice deepened with menace. “There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me from killing your parents if you don’t do what I say. Just a simple click of a button—” he turned on his cell phone, “—and they’ll be taken care of.”

  Sonya launched herself toward Damien but Caleb stepped forward, blocking her. “I challenge you,” he said, eyes on Damien as he held back a struggling Sonya.

  Everybody froze. “What was that?” Damien asked, his voice deadly soft.

  “I challenge you, Damien Blackthorn, for your title as alpha of the Blackwater clan.” Caleb didn’t flinch when he felt Sonya’s fingernails dig into his arm in protest. He stood firm.

  Damien stared at him for a long moment, a vein ticking at his temple. “You think you can beat me?” He threw back his head and laughed heartily. His goons joined in, the cacophony of their laughter echoing throughout the forest. “You’ve got big balls, Caleb. Big balls.”

  “Night after tomorrow,” Caleb said, unruffled by Damien’s posturing. “Her parents will be here to witness the match, as seems fitting since we both know what we’re really fighting for.” He pushed Sonya more firmly behind him, dislodging her death-like grip on his arm.

  “I accept your terms,” Damien said, his eyes like frosted chips of glass. He snapped his fingers, and his bears stepped back reluctantly. “Six o’clock sharp.

  “I won’t be late,” Caleb responded evenly.

  “I don’t mind if you are,” Damien said, chuckling. “After all, if you’re not on time, the match automatically goes to me. Sleep in a little bit,” he suggested with a wink. “It’ll save us all a little trouble.”

  “In your dreams,” Caleb growled as he watched Damien and his goons get into the Hummer parked behind his pickup truck. The Hummer’s engine roared to life, and they backed up a few meters before turning to the right so Damien was facing them from the passenger side.

  “By the way,” he called, leaning out the window. “I’ve decided to torch your house after all.” He held up a remote and clicked a button, then laughed as the spare bedroom window exploded outward. The roar of fire blocked out his laughter as the Hummer drove off, leaving Caleb and his men staring up at the burning house.

  * * *

  “Bloody hell,” Caleb groaned as he and Sonya let themselves into his house. He kicked off his blackened shoes by the front door, staring longingly at the living room sofa. He just wanted to flop right onto it and never get up again, but he knew the soot on his clothes would stain the upholstery irreparably.

  “What a night,” Sonya agreed, also kicking off her shoes, but toeing them neatly into position by the door. “I can’t believe he actually torched the house.”

  “It’s his style,” Caleb grunted, heading for the stairs. He was going to scrub himself clean in the shower and then head straight to bed. He’d been up all night with his crew, battling the fire. He’d called them right away when it had started, but they’d been an hour away, and by the time they’d gotten there, the safe house was a lost cause. Their main focus was on putting out the blaze and preventing it from spreading outward and becoming a major forest fire.

  If Damien’s actions had caused a national forest fire, he wouldn’t wait until the duel to kill him. He’d have gone over to Blackwater right then and strangled the life out of the bastard. Though Damien wasn’t a firefighter himself, he owned the Blackwater Fire House and had an obligation to uphold fire safety, and as a bear, he had an obligation to protect the forest. Setting the safe house on fire had been a reckless action that could have caused much more damage than it did.

  But then again, that was how Damien operated; he did things for the short-term gains, refusing to look at the long-term effects. He was running the clan into the ground, financially and otherwise, and it was time to put a stop to it.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower,” he said to Sonya. “Feel free to help yourself to any food in the kitchen.”

  He went up to the master bathroom and pulled off his clothes, dropping them into the hamper. Soon he was in the shower, the hot water pounding on his back as steam fogged up the glass shower door. He lathered up his body with soap and started attacking his skin with the scrubbing brush, scraping away at the dirt and soot. The water swirling into the drain by his feet turned blackish-grey with grime, and yet he still kept scrubbing, not quite clean.

  He jumped as the door opened behind him, and then Sonya’s hands were wrapping around his mid-section, her breasts pressing against the middle of his back. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, rubbing a hand up and down his stomach. “It’s all my fault your safe house was burned to the ground.”

  Caleb closed his eyes for a moment, allowing her touch to sooth him. Then he turned in her arms. “It’s alright,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. He smoothed his thumb along her right cheek, unable to tell if the wetness on them was from her tears or the shower – her eyes were moist and slightly red. “It’s not your fault.”

  “If you hadn’t been trying to protect me—”

  “Shh.” He silenced her with a soft kiss. “Damien did this, not you. You’re not responsible for his actions.” He kissed her again. “Besides, I’m the one who made you come to the safe house. If anyone other than Damien is responsible for his actions, it should be me.”

  “But—”

  He kissed her yet again. “Stop. One of Damien’s men must have snuck up on the side of the house and planted that bomb through the window. I should have been more vigilant. If you’d stayed up there like I’d asked you to…”

  “… I might have been able to stop the bomber.” Sonya finished bitterly.

  “No. You would have been in even greater danger. If the bear had found you up there, he would have knocked you out and taken you to Damien. And all of this would have been for nothing.”

  “He could have tried,” Sonya snarled. “I’m not so easy to beat down one-on-one.”

  Caleb smiled, cupping the back of her head with his hand. “Even so, it’s not the kind of situation I would have ever wanted to put you in. You’re far too precious to me.”

  He kissed Sonya again, this time pressing her body back against the wet tile of the shower wall. Her tongue slid into his mouth to dance with his, her slender hands running up and down his back and sending shivers of delight through him. He loved it when she touched him. Whether it was a simple pat on the arm or her hand squeezing his cock, her fingers always felt good against his skin.

  He squeezed her breasts gently in his hands, then ducked down and took one of her taut nipples into his mouth. Her moans echoed off the shower walls and became little cries as he slid two fingers into her, massaging her g-spot. Hot and wet, she writhed beneath him, one of her hands wrapping around his wrist as she urged him faster.

  Caleb kissed a line from her breast to her jaw. “You’re so sexy,” he growled in her ear, then he flicked his tongue out to tease her earlobe. “So hot and w
et.” He grabbed her right ass cheek with his free hand, pushing her more firmly against his fingers as he pumped them into her.

  “Oh, Caleb!” she screamed, her pussy convulsing around his fingers as she came. Hot liquid gushed onto his hand, and he kept finger-fucking her until the spasms stopped. Smiling, he lifted his hand to taste her as he watched her blink up at him through the shower spray, satisfaction in her eyes.

  “I’m fucking you in the shower now,” he told her, lifting one of her legs. “Just so you know.”

  Sonya smiled. “Oh, I know,” she said, hooking her leg around his hip to bring him closer. “I’ve been waiting for it.”

  Caleb hissed as she took his cock in her hand then slowly guided it inside her. He groaned as Sonya’s tight, wet walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper into her. “You feel incredible,” he said, bracing his hands against the wall as he started thrusting his hips against her.

  “Mmm.” Sonya leaned her head back against the tile, looking up at him. A sexy smile curved her lips as she reached down and squeezed his left ass cheek. “You’re the one who feels good. I love having your cock inside me.”

  “Yeah?” He covered her mouth with another kiss, letting her taste herself on her lips.

  “Ooh, yeah.” Sonya wrapped her other leg around him, and he grabbed her around the waist, triceps bulging as he held her against the wall. She pumped her hips more insistently against him, and he watched as she came again, shuddering beneath his hands. He let himself go then, spilling his seed into her as he allowed himself to be consumed by pleasure.

  Sonya unwrapped her legs from around Caleb’s waist and he pulled her against him, the fading climax being replaced by an emotion that filled him so swiftly, he was overcome by it. “I love you,” he said, the words spilling out of his lips before he even recognized the emotion was love. “I love you.”

  Sonya stood utterly still as those words washed over her. I love you. She felt his steady heartbeat beneath her ear, his warm skin against hers, his strong arms cradling her against him, and she knew it was true. Answering emotion swelled in her heart, and she looked up at him to see him gazing down at her, a hint of fear in his eyes. “You don’t have to worry,” she said, brushing the back of her hand against his cheek. “I love you too.”

  They finished their shower then climbed into Caleb’s bed together. Sonya sighed as she settled in, Caleb pulling her against his chest as he spooned her. It felt so right, so comfortable, like old puzzle pieces reunited after a long spell of sitting at opposite ends of the puzzle box.

  “I’m so lucky you were the one who rescued me,” she said sleepily, her eyes already closing. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” Caleb whispered, running his hand along the curve of her hip. “If that fire hadn’t burned your house to the ground, I never would have found you.”

  “Maybe it’s fate.” She was starting to wonder that. Even though the fire had been terrible, it seemed to have one hell of a silver lining.

  He chuckled. “Maybe.”

  Having nothing more to say on the matter, Sonya fell asleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Goose bumps broke out across the backs of Sonya’s neck and arms as Blackwater came into view. Twice as big as Silver Grove, it nevertheless had that small town feel, filled with locally owned shops and small businesses, the houses ranch or country-style. It didn’t look like the kind of place that would strike fear into the hearts of anyone, but Sonya could feel it thrumming through her bloodstream and smelled the tension rising in the back of the car.

  Caleb had elected to take Rick’s Jeep so that his second and third could drive with them in the same car. It was important to stay together, he’d impressed on Sonya during the drive up. When surrounded by enemies, any type of division amongst your own ranks could be fatal.

  They drove through the streets of the town, which were dusky, touched by the golden, red, and purple hues of the setting sun. There were many people out on the streets doing last-minute shopping or errands before they headed on home to their loved ones. Sonya didn’t spot a single were-bear amongst them.

  A chill came over her as she remembered the first time she’d been to Blackwater. She’d been sitting the back of an SUV with blacked-out windows, her hands bound and her mouth stuffed with a gag and secured with duct tape. She’d never been so terrified in her life…

  Fear choked her as she perched on the leather seat, looking out the front window at the charming town rolling by. She tried to take slow breaths through her nostrils, but each one brought the scent of lust rolling off the three were-bears in the car. The one to her left, a big guy with a square, close-shaven head and boxy shoulders, kept eyeing her; she could feel his lecherous gaze through his wraparound sunshades. He probably thinks he looks like an MI6 agent, Sonya scoffed to herself. The bit of sarcastic humor helped calm her a bit.

  She turned her head to look out the passenger window and felt her skin stretch tight, still stiff with the blood that had trickled down from her head wound. They’d come for her two nights ago when she was just settling into her hotel suite in Milan for the night, looking forward to her new life in Italy. Tears sprang into her eyes; she’d been so close to freedom and had even thought she’d had it for a few moments before they’d come crashing in. She’d put up the best fight she could, but the blow to the head had knocked her out cold, and the next thing she knew she was strapped into a seat on a private jet, heading back over the Atlantic again.

  A sharp blow to the side of her head startled her. “Quit sniveling, you bitch,” MI6 snarled at her. She turned her aching head around to find him staring at her, his teeth bared. “You’re just lucky we didn’t bust up your face. Wouldn’t mind rearranging your nose if Damien hadn’t ordered us to keep your mug intact.”

  Sonya would have spat in his own ugly mug if she hadn’t been obstructed by the gag. As it was, she could only clench her fists tightly together, her nails scoring the palms of her hands. As gruesome as his words were, though, there was comfort to them. It meant that Damien didn’t want her dead. If he did, he wouldn’t have worried about whether or not his bears ruined her face; he might have even let them kill her themselves.

  No, she thought, remembering his arctic eyes during the visit he’d paid her family over four years ago. He’s absolutely furious with me. If he’d wanted her dead, having his men do it wouldn’t be enough; he’d want her blood on his own hands in order to be satisfied.

  The crunch of tires on gravel caught her attention, and she looked out the window to see that they were pulling up to a two-story Greek Revival home. They stopped in front of the attached garage, and Sonya gazed out at the pristine lawn to her left. The flowerbeds near the base of the patio were bursting with a variety of colorful blooms-- marigolds, daisies, tulips, impatiens, and lilacs among them. If Sonya had been driving by this house, she would have thought it the home of a politician, not a two-bit thug, which was all Damien really amounted to in her mind.

  Guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover.

  Her door was yanked open and M16 stood there, glowering at her. “Don’t even think about screaming or trying to run,” he warned, untying her hands. “Damien authorized me to bring you back by any means necessary if you do.” He ripped off the duct tape covering her mouth. Tears sprang to her eyes, the cloth in her mouth choking off her scream before she ripped it out of her mouth and tossed it in his face.

  Snarling, he smacked her upside the head again, increasing the throbbing ache at the base of her skull. “Move!” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the van.

  Flanked by MI6 on one side and the driver on the other, she was marched up to the front door of the house. Sonya studied the white wicker patio chairs, wondering if Damien ever actually deigned to sit on them. They were so out of character for him – pristine and feminine and classy, all the things he was not.

  She heard slow, methodical footsteps approaching the door, and
then a pause as whoever was on the other side verified their identities. The heavy oak door opened to reveal another bear, this one a little more nicely groomed than her companions. The slacks and button-down shirt he wore stretched over a large, meaty frame that seemed like it would be more comfortable in a t-shirt and leather jacket – it was like stuffing a gorilla into a ballerina tutu.

  “Damien awaits you in his study,” the bear said curtly, his stilted, formal speech at odds with his rough baritone. Trash dressed up as class, she thought, fighting back the urge to shake her head. “Right this way, please.

  Wordlessly, Sonya followed him inside, her three “guards” bringing up the rear; it wasn’t exactly as if she had a choice. The inside of the house was primarily decorated with heavy dark wood and leather, with dark blue and gold accents showing up in the picture frames, the rugs, and the occasional (but rare) decorative items she saw. Much more fitting, she thought, following the bear up a mahogany staircase carpeted in midnight blue and gold. Everything in the house smelled new, as if the old interior had been completely stripped away and redone.

  They led her down a hallway lined with doors every ten feet that was bisected by another hallway halfway through. Looking at the sparse walls painted the same color as the blue in the carpet, she had the idea that something used to hang from them – family portraits, perhaps? She wondered whom this house had belonged to before Damien had made it his home. She felt almost certain that he didn’t inherit the place.

  The bear stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall and knocked respectfully. A voice told him to enter, and he pushed the door open, revealing a study. The floors in this room were glossy dark wood, covered with a paisley blue and gold carpet that rested in front of the fireplace. An ornate office desk with a high-tech computer system dominated the center of the room, but Damien wasn’t near it; he stood in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  “Leave us,” he said, flicking his hand in the direction of the door. Sonya didn’t dare imagine that command included her. She stood stock-still by the entrance as Damien’s were-bears filed out behind her and tried not to flinch as the door clicked shut.