Alphas of Summer: A collection of shifter romances

by Lia Davis

  For the past eighteen months she’d done pretty much nothing but work. Day and night she kept Montgomery Holdings running, safe from anyone trying to steal her land or run her company into the ground.

  In all that time she had not been with a man. She hadn’t thought to pay any attention to any of the men who asked her out or the men who tried to bed her in order to cheapen her self-respect or to compel her to have some business dealing with them.

  The corner of Luke’s mouth ticked upward. “If you have to think this hard about it, you probably haven’t had any fun in way too long.” He finished his bourbon and placed the glass on the table. “Have you?”

  Delia shook her head. “Not really. Not since Dad.”

  He nodded. “It’s a pretty big company to manage. Can’t be too easy.”

  “It isn’t. Though I don’t mind, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “No. Just admiring your tenacity. Only four years out of college and running a six million dollar organization. Impressive.”

  “Seven-five.” She sipped her bourbon.

  The stats had come in that morning. She hadn’t shared that detail with anyone until now. She’d double and triple checked the numbers. The last quarter had shown tremendous growth in their investments.

  His eyebrows rose, his grin widening. “Congratulations. You may be a better businessman than your father.”

  She laughed, knowing that was hardly the truth. She’d been taught by the best, but that didn’t mean she would ever be as good as him.

  “I haven’t told anyone those numbers.” A tinge of guilt struck her. She was gloating. It wasn’t good practice. It wasn’t very sportsmanlike. It wasn’t something she was proud of.

  He sat up straight. “If I had experienced such success, I’d want to tell someone, too.”

  “I should have told my employees first, not…”

  Luke slid closer until his thigh touched her knee. “Your secret’s safe with me. For one night at least.”

  Heat radiated from him as if he was a living furnace.

  Delia dropped her leg down and tucked one foot behind the other, putting a few inches between them and immediately feeling her body cool down a bit.

  “You’re going to fall out of the booth.” Luke’s voice held a hint of laughter. He bent his finger toward him. “Slide in.”

  “Push over.”

  He shook his head but moved back an inch or two.

  Delia scooted over an inch.

  “Drummond would call you a coward.” He leaned his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “I won’t bite.” He smiled. “Come closer.”

  “Why do I feel like Little Red Riding Hood?” She stared at the Big Bad Wolf’s beautiful smile.

  He dipped his head in the same way he had the first time she met him. The reflection of the candle flame flickered in his eyes, and he showed just enough of that smile to make her wet. Lowering his voice and leaning closer, he said, “Maybe because you want me to eat you.”

  Chapter 4

  Delia swallowed loudly. Her nipples tightened. In fact, everything that could tighten did. Once again she rose an inch or more off the seat, trying to keep from squirming beside him.

  The man was bound and determined to be her undoing. She’d known from the second he waltzed into her father’s office and said, “Drummond, you’ve been holding out on me. I don’t suppose you’re willing to forgo the land discussion and give me a chance to win this lovely creature.”

  In that moment Delia nearly came. No man had ever looked at her with such hunger. Right in front of her father he didn’t hold back. He didn’t wait for her to extend her hand, didn’t wait for her father to introduce them.

  Instead the beast came around her father’s desk to stand in her personal space, took her hand in his firm grasp and shook, capturing her hand in both of his. “An absolute pleasure to meet you, Ms. Montgomery. I look forward to working very closely with you.”

  Such a brazen lack of regard for her position, for her as a businesswoman, as a woman. Such an embarrassment that she hadn’t been able to come to her senses. Instead she practically tumbled into his embrace.

  The animal magnetism that was Luke was so alluring she hated to be within a few feet of him. It was the reason she only met with him in large open spaces.

  Yet, here she was merely a foot from him, once again in such a weakened position she could hardly think to answer him.

  Luke reached across the table and pressed a button on the outer edge of the leather seat. “You need another drink. Something to loosen you up a bit.”

  “I don’t need to be loose. That may be how you like women to be, but I am not a loose woman.” Her back stiffened again.

  She knew when he invited her here it was to either get her too drunk to keep from giving away her land or to try to fuck her. She wasn’t letting either happen.

  His smile widened, and he slid around the booth to rest his arm across the back of the bench above her head. “First, you’re wound so tightly no one could ever think you were loose.” His fingers tickled the top of her head, sending a shiver down her back. Delia fought not to react to the sensation.

  Luke’s fingers softly skimmed around the bun keeping her blonde hair neatly tucked behind her head. “Second, I do not at all care for loose women. Not even a little bit.”

  He was too close. It was nearly impossible for her to keep a coherent thought. His delicious scent filled every breath she took. Sweat beaded on her neck, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the heat radiating off his body or from her own overheated libido.

  Delicately his fingers traveled around the bun, probing in and out of the tightly pinned wad. “Ah,” he said, angling closer. “This needs to come out.”

  Delia felt the mild pressure of a bobby pin pressing against her scalp and knew he was trying to get a grip on the little hairpin.

  “No, don’t!” She moved to grab his hand, but he stopped her, catching her hand with his other and shaking his head.

  “Relax a bit. Loosen up.”

  An expertly placed bobby pin slid from her hair, and she felt the beginning of the end of her perfect updo.

  “Letting your hair down won’t kill you.”

  A lock of hair tumbled free, and Delia frowned. “Damn it. Now look at what—”

  “Shush.” The hand working at destroying her hairdo continued its evil deed while the other hand came to her mouth, one finger covering her lips. “This doesn’t have to be so awkward. I can’t believe your head doesn’t hurt from your hair being held so tightly.” His fingers massaged the spot where the bobby pin had been digging into her head.

  No one had massaged her scalp in, well, not since her last purchased massage, which was nearly two years ago. The sensation of his fingertips rubbing against her head was heaven. He applied just the right amount of pressure, relieving the ache and making her whole head tingle.

  Another bobby pin slipped away, and just as she knew would happen, the ability of the last few pins to hold any of her hair into place failed. Long waves of gold tumbled past her shoulders to drape down her chest and over Luke’s arm.

  The florally scent of shampoo perfumed the air.

  Luke inhaled. “Hmm. I like that.” He dug his hand into the blanket of hair, kneading his fingertips over her tired head. “So beautiful.”

  The combination of the sound of her hair beneath his fingers as he worked her scalp and the pleasant low rumble from his chest, as if he was enjoying the massage himself, made Delia close her eyes and sigh.

  She hated to admit she was enjoying this. She liked the way it felt to have someone else think of her, make decisions for her, cater to her needs. She would love nothing more than to curl into Luke’s arms and let him hold her all night.

  That was a fact that made her want to run from the building—to get as far from him as she could.

  Reaching for the pins that dangled in the waves, Luke carefully removed them to the table. He slid backward in the booth, awa
y from her a few feet, and a sense of disappointment filled Delia.

  It had been too long since she’d pampered herself if having Luke Ravenwood stop touching her made her unhappy. She hardly knew the man, other than to know he wanted her land. She never should have allowed him to touch her.

  What was she thinking? Why would she ever allow herself to tolerate him fumbling in her hair and massaging her head?

  “You rang, sir,” a voice called from behind the curtain.

  Luke sat in the middle of the booth. “Come.”

  The curtain opened. “I brought another round in case that was your need.” The waitress appeared, doing a double take when she looked at Delia, who very quickly pushed her hair behind her ears and squared her shoulders, keeping eye contact with the waitress.

  She would not look away, no matter how embarrassed she may be. She would not allow anyone to look at her like she was some cheap whore. Because she wasn’t. Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself for a night? Why shouldn’t she just this one time let loose? Why was it only acceptable for a man to have his needs met, yet if a woman did it she was considered…loose?

  “Yes. Leave the bottle.” Luke’s eyes darted from the waitress to Delia and back.

  He was playing her for a fool. He was using her. She’d nearly fallen into his trap. The realization that she was too obvious hit her. She was doing a terrible job of hiding her exhaustion and stress.

  He probably sensed it the way a wolf sensed a lame animal. She was his prey and he was stalking her, had been since that very first meeting, and here, in a weakened state with a couple of drinks added to the mix she nearly caved to his tricks.

  “There’s no need to leave the bottle,” Delia snapped.

  “Leave it.” Luke stared at the waitress.

  “Yes, sir.” After placing fresh glasses on the table as well as a small bucket of ice, the waitress served them both drinks and cleared away the old glasses. She stepped back and closed the curtain once again.

  Delia turned to Luke, glaring. “Just who do you—”

  He shoved the tiny table off to the side and lunged forward, pushing Delia back against the leather. “Shut up. For the love of God, woman, just relax.” His lips came to hers in a searing hot kiss, and her mind tumbled into an abyss.

  Chapter 5

  A wonderful and overwhelming barrage of sensations spun in Delia’s mind, along her skin, and into her heart.

  The crush of her body against the seat. His lips, so soft and warm and demanding. His wet tongue, probing and coaxing. The smoky taste of bourbon. The scent of man. The looming presence of Luke, so much bigger, so strong, so perfect.

  Her own need, a hunger she’d kept locked deep inside, clamored for release.

  His hand cupped her neck, his thumb positioned at her chin tilting her face to him. Gentle was his touch. Gentle, yet possessive.

  She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for him. One hand wrapped around his back, and she felt the muscles jump beneath her fingertips.

  Her other hand slid up his chest to his shoulder and around his back. She leaned into him, pressing her chest to his, wanting to feel him against her, wanting to do as he demanded.

  Relax, she told herself. But relaxing at that very moment was not going to happen. She was too alert, too excited to relax.

  What she wouldn’t give to have him right there in that booth, right then, all of him.

  Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion. The bourbon had made her weak. She couldn’t control her own lust. Lust for a man who’d been pursuing her like an animal on the hunt.

  Land, he just wants my land, a little voice in her head whispered. She began to pull back from the kiss, but one of his hands came to the back of her head while the other snaked under her, tugging her onto his lap.

  Oh God, just shut up and kiss him. Just enjoy him. Don’t make promises, the little voice argued.

  He sat back into the middle of the booth with Delia straddling his lap. Her skirt hiked up her thighs, revealing the tops of thigh-high stockings.

  His heavy breaths against her cheek made her want him more. His excitement. His need stoked her desire.

  She hadn’t let a man get this close. And Luke wasn’t simply a man. He had such drive, such determination that he would continue to pursue her no matter how many times she turned him down.

  Counting tonight, which she thought she could still count if they didn’t go much further, Luke had propositioned her sixty-eight times. She’d turned him down every time.

  Flowers, chocolate, and even sending over top-notch carpenters to rebuild the dilapidated building on a piece of her property abutting his for free had not gotten him a yes.

  Instead, a challenge, a simple misleading bet had been her downfall.

  Luke’s hands rubbed up the outside of her thighs, stopping at the rim of her nylons. He fingered the edges, slipping two fingers beneath each edge, then broke the kiss.

  “What’s that?” He turned down the stocking. “Sticky?”

  She leaned on his shoulders for balance and panted for a second. Sitting astride her adversary’s lap with her skirt hiked up high enough to give him a glimpse of her lavender panties while he examined the lining of her stockings was not where she thought she’d be tonight.

  “It’s the thing that keeps them from falling down.” She swatted at his hand. “Forget about that.” She wanted him to stop staring down in the direction of her crotch.

  “You have red marks.” He bumped her hand away and rolled a stocking down a bit to reveal a red stripe across her thigh. “Does it hurt?” He peeled the other stocking down from her skin, folding the top back away from her leg.

  She sighed. “A little. What does it matter?” Suddenly very self-conscious, Delia scooted back to get off Luke’s lap.

  He didn’t let her get far, tucking his hands under her thighs and pulling her back to him. “I’ll buy you a garter and you can wear real stockings.”

  There was a twinkle in his eye that made Delia squirm.

  “I don’t like the idea of your skin hurting or any other part of you for that matter.” His thumbs stroked across her thighs. “Now, where were we?”

  “Wait.” She flattened her hands over his chest and pushed back. “What is going on here?”

  She needed to know. What were they doing and why? What was he looking to get out of this? She wasn’t selling that land to him. No matter what he bought her, how he kissed, or if he cared about the health and wellbeing of her thighs, she wasn’t giving in.

  He sighed and rested his head back against the seat, letting his body relax beneath her. “You’re finally loosening up with me.” His hands remained hooked beneath her thighs and he gave a firm squeeze. “Maybe we’ll work better together now.”

  “I’m not selling you that land.” Delia grabbed Luke’s wrists and pushed.

  Though he allowed his hands to slip away from her thighs, she didn’t keep hold of him. He deftly escaped her grasp, catching hold of her wrists. She tried to wrangle free, but he didn’t release her. “I’m finally getting to kiss you and touch you without you recoiling as if I’m a leper.”

  Delia stopped moving. “I’ve never thought of you as a leper.”

  His eyebrow rose. “You barely speak to me even on business matters and certainly never say anything nice. Let’s not get started about the fact that you hardly look at me other than to glare.” He narrowed his eyes in a mock glare and smiled that smile that made Delia wet every time she saw it.

  “I don’t glare at you.” Delia couldn’t look him in the eye for as soon as the words were spoken she knew they were false. She bit her tongue to keep from arguing about the way she generally spoke to him.

  Luke didn’t flinch. He continued to hold her arms at her sides. “You’re not going to tell me another lie are you?” His thumbs stroked over the soft flesh of her forearms.

  She inhaled, set her shoulders, and looked straight into his eyes. “I wasn’t, what I meant was…”

  She couldn
’t think straight. She had wanted this man from the very second she met him. She’d known he was dangerous. She knew he’d change her life forever.

  All these months of avoiding him hadn’t done her a damn bit of good. They hadn’t made her want him any less. She didn’t hate him as she wished. She didn’t loathe his very existence.

  Instead, she’d done everything she could to make him hate her so she wouldn’t have to worry about her own behavior.

  “What exactly did you mean?” The dark chocolate brown of his eyes sparkled, and for a moment she saw the wolf in him sinking into position, ready to charge.

  With him boldly staring at her, challenging her to deny her lie, she felt like a misbehaving child waiting to hear her punishment. Her stomach summersaulted. The idea of Luke making her pay for some indiscretion was doing things to her, things that caused her thighs to tighten against his with need. Her legs were spread wide as she straddled him, making the open area between them feel cooler than the rest of her body.

  For a moment she had to focus on remaining still and not inching her way closer to rub herself against him.

  Luke’s firm grasp enclosed her wrists like living cuffs. His thumbs tenderly caressed back and forth over her all-too-sensitive skin. His gaze dropped from her face to her chest, and he licked his lips.

  The heat of his gaze, so filled with want, made Delia arch her back, bringing her breasts toward him.

  His grip tightened and slowly he pulled her forward. Every slow inch closer to him made her wetter. Her breasts ached to be touched. She wanted his hands, his mouth on her skin. She wanted him to rip open her shirt and yank off her bra, to scoop her breasts into his hands, to play with her nipples.

  They were already hard pebbles, and the brush of the lace bra over them made her want to beg him to pinch them.

  He leaned forward, letting his nose graze her chest. The light touch, his quick breaths, the heat of his body were too much.

  “Luke, please…”

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered into her cleavage. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”