Alpha Me Not

by Jianne Carlo

  When they left the house fifteen minutes later, Joe decided to take the Birch entrance to the preserve, and led Susie up Elm and around the corner to Bonaventure. He had back-of-the-neck squirrellies flashing fast and furious.

  The rain started when they hit the top of Birch. He checked to ensure Susie’s hoodie was snug and protecting most of her upper body. The dense, earthy aroma of fresh manure attacked his nostrils.

  He scanned the street and glimpsed Gemma Arnold’s son, Jeffrey, digging yet another garden bed for his mother. Gemma had a green thumb beyond extraordinaire, and he had often been the recipient of her vegetable garden’s bounty. Since he rarely cooked, Joe gave most of the vegetables to either the Hassanis or the Lees. The fruit he ate.

  “Who’s that?” Susie had picked up on Jeffrey.

  “Gemma’s son. I thought you’d met him.”

  “No. Hadn’t realized he was an adult. For some reason I thought he was middle school age.” Susie kept pace with him easily.

  “He’s in his midthirties, I think. Seem to remember hearing Gemma had him at sixteen. Strange cuss. An English teacher. Very reclusive. Devoted to his mother and grandfather, though.” Joe sped up when they reached Terri’s lot.

  The entire basement area had been covered with tarp. According to Tate, forensics had cleared the contents earlier that afternoon.

  “We’re taking the same path?”

  Joe slowed a tad for the uphill climb. “No. We’re going to bear right at the next curve and climb the escarpment for about a mile and a half. They issued a severe storm watch for the county for the next three hours. The cops are packing up. We should have a clear crime scene to ourselves.”

  “Where’re we meeting the others?”

  “They’re waiting for us on the other side of the ravine. It’s about a mile away from where I found Eric.”

  They jogged in silence for fifteen minutes, Joe absorbing all the different smells and sounds. The rain fell steadily, but the forest canopy kept the full brunt of the downpour from them.

  Slowing so he could channel energy into communicating, he searched for Tate.

  “Found anything?”

  Tate was silent for a few minutes.

  “You bet. We’re at the north end. I’m down deep. Patchwork of tunnels. Limestone. Crisscrosses the length of the entire ravine.”

  Tunnels? Joe’d run the preserve for five years off and on, and he’d never seen any hint of tunnels. But Susie had said Eric was underground and in a twisty-turny place.

  “Joe?” Susie brushed his arm. “You okay?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I was talking to Tate.”

  “What?” She staggered, grabbed a branch, and spun around, jogging in place. “Did you just say you were talking to Tate?”

  “Tate and I can communicate telepathically. Drains us, but we can do it if necessary.” No way could he stop grinning when her mouth dropped open and she did this shuddery jerk.

  “Holy moly. You can read minds. Great. That’s all I need. Am I insane? To hook up with an alpha who can read my mind?” She snorted, whipped about, and raced ahead.

  He loved her in a temper. Joe accelerated and, when they were running side by side, said, “It only works with Tate, and not all the time. I don’t read his mind. We speak to each other mentally. There is a difference.”

  “Hmph. That’s no consolation. I don’t want you in my head.”

  “Slow down. We’re here. Kieran is just ahead.” They came out of the trees and into a small, round clearing.

  Kieran and Gray stood at the top of a five-foot-wide zigzag crack in the ground. “See anyone on the way up?”

  Joe halted and checked Kieran’s fierce expression. “No. Should we have?”

  “Detectives Johnson and Sands were going to try to intercept you. They have some news on the arson. Something they didn’t see fit to share with us. How’re you doing, Susie?”

  “Good. Barb?”

  “Not so good today. The adrenaline’s seeped out of her.”

  Joe squeezed Kieran’s shoulder. “Time, only time will help. Found anything besides the tunnels?”

  “Tate’s combing through the last set we discovered.” Gray dragged a hand through his hair. “You want to tell him the rest?”

  Kieran blew out a sigh. “We found vats. Like the moonshine vats your grandmother used. Four so far. Large stores of lye.”

  “Your gran-gran made moonshine?”

  Joe caught Susie’s hand and squeezed. “Yeah. I’ll explain later. Someone’s been dissolving bodies in lye? How recently are we talking?”

  “The tunnels I explored, maybe three years ago, but the ones Gray went through were used more recently.”

  Joe raised a brow. “Gray?”

  “I’d say the last nine months. Trouble is, the lye destroys all the scents. I can’t track a fricking thing. From the pattern, I’d guess he started at this end and worked his way back toward Birch Crescent.” Gray stiffened. “Tate’s on his way up. He can verify my theory.”

  “Theory verified.” Tate dragged himself over the top of the ravine. His blond locks were damp, and clumps of dirt clung to his forehead. “The tunnels on this end haven’t been used for some time. I found two vats. The deepest one used strictly for moonshine. The other one, lye.”

  Susie tapped a sneakered foot. “I think this is the appropriate time for the moonshine explanation.”

  “My grandmother trafficked moonshine. Big-time. And she and Fay Ward were chums.” Unease had the hair on Joe’s nape tingling. “Since we lived far from here and Gran-gran hated coming into the city, I’m guessing Fay ran moonshine too.”

  “That little old lady? I don’t believe it. But moonshine isn’t illegal.”

  “Oh, it most certainly is, sis.”

  “But your grandmother kept her still at the cabin. I remember when we found it.” Tate attempted to dust the dirt from his brow, but only succeeded in smudging the brown muck all over his cheeks. “You do realize we always find Ivan near this area.”

  “Yeah. He’s not our killer. He couldn’t keep it together long enough to do something like this.” Kieran pulled a water bottle from his backpack. “He’d never hurt Petey.”

  It went against Joe’s grain to consider Ivan as a suspect too. “How did those vats get here? No way Fay could’ve done it without help.”

  “And we all know how strong Ivan is. No. There’s no way.” Tate planted his hands on lean hips. “If Ivan’s the killer, I may as well forget about my instincts, human or wolf.”

  “It’s going to be dark soon. We’ve milked this scene dry. And we need to speak to Fay.”

  “Nah. Not we. You have to do it, Joe. You’re like a grandson to her. Gray and I will head back to the cabin. Check out the old still. See if we find anything new.” Tate unhooked a water bottle clipped to his belt.

  “You’re right, but not tonight. Fay has to get Ivan back on his meds. I’ll go over first thing in the morning.”

  “I need to head home. Check on Barb. She’s determined to go to this damned thing for Vance Ellison tomorrow night. Ellison is a board member of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and the chairman of the foundation will be there. She wants to get involved. Channel her grief.” Kieran dragged a hand over his jaw.

  “We’re going too. Why don’t we pick you up?”

  Kieran nodded. “Not a bad idea. Don’t really trust my temper in public. Especially with that asswipe spouting his crap.”

  Vance Ellison had fought Coach Tommy when he picked Joe for quarterback, and Kieran had never forgiven or forgotten the offense. Joe hadn’t taken it personally. Everyone knew of the close friendship between Bob Weber and Ellison. Stood to reason Ellison would favor Grant Weber over Joe.

  The rain stopped halfway back to Birch Crescent.

  Kieran, Tate, and Gray all refused the offer of a drink and left at the same time. Joe watched the three vehicles leave. “Long day.”

  Susie leaned her head on his shoulder. “Very. You remember t
hat thing we saw the first time we ran?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “If someone were using the vats, wouldn’t the steam have to escape?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve no idea what happens when lye boils.” Joe’d taken only organic chemistry, and that had been years ago. And he hadn’t a clue what was produced when a body was dumped in lye. “Tate will know, or know how to find out.”

  “Lordy. I hadn’t thought of that.” She rubbed her arms. “No wonder it creeped me out. That smoke could’ve been what was left of someone. Disgusting.”

  Joe snagged an arm around her waist. “Absolutely.”

  “Okay. I don’t want to think about that anymore.” Her fingers flexed around his wrist. “Let’s only talk about happy stuff for the rest of the night.”

  “Done deal, gypsy. Let’s order in. Something nibbly we can eat in the hot tub.” Joe had several creative ideas about the use of the jets.

  “Where is this hot tub?” Arms akimbo, she faced him.

  He chuckled. “At the end of property under that spreading oak.”

  “No way. I never noticed.” She tapped a finger to her mouth. “Did you show Azzo the tub?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Well. He told me about it. Apparently Mama Maria asked him to check up on the property while you were out of the country. He was positively effusive about the thing. Tell me, how do you disinfect a hot tub? ’Cause I’m not going in there otherwise.”

  “The little huesos.” He should’ve known. The tub’s cover hadn’t been quite pulled down all the way.

  “Huesos?”

  “Russian for cocksucker.”

  “Really, Joe. The one thing no one has to wonder about is Azzo’s sexual orientation. The way he talks I’m guessing Azzo may be on the receiving end of huesos, but definitely not the giving end.” She winked at him. “The way he ogles my ass, heck, that boy oozes testosterone. He lost his mother recently, did you know?”

  “Yeah. Only reason his jaw hasn’t met my fist. A couple dozen times. Come on. Let’s get this show on the road. I can’t wait to get you naked in the hot tub.” He slapped her tush, unlocked the door, and escorted her into the house.

  “I’ll get the tub going. You order food?”

  “Deal.” She waggled her brows.

  They padded to the kitchen.

  Susie rummaged in the fridge. “We have a ton of leftovers, Joe. How about we just heat up some later on?”

  “Perfect.” He tilted her chin.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Does this mean you’re back in full working order?”

  “Nope. Not getting away with that. Explicit. Am I hard and aching? Are my balls blue?”

  Without warning she ran her hand down the length of his erection. “I don’t have to ask that. You seem to always be hard. This morning was fantastic—don’t get me wrong. But I like it when you come inside of me. I like when you throw back your head and roar.”

  “Shit. You’re a fucking fast learner. But I haven’t forgotten you’re still in the penalty box. You’re going down tonight, missy.” He licked the seam of her mouth.

  She trapped his lower lip with her teeth, nipped, and then let go. “Not without a fight, buster.”

  “Get busy, missy. I am in a big hurry.”

  The saucy grin she shot him fueled his cock to near ignition. Swinging her hips, she ambled over to the fridge to retrieve the leftovers. He swatted her ass as she swayed by and then headed out the back door.

  Joe didn’t bother to turn on any outside lights but worked as darkness descended, took the tarp off the tub, started the water, and set the temperature to 103. The oriental lantern string strung along the low-hanging oak branches came on automatically as the last rays of the sun vanished. The sweet pea blossoms once again ruled the eve. Somewhere in the distance a nightingale warbled a poignant tune.

  While he dreaded the conversation with Fay in the morning, they’d definitely made progress today. In more ways than one. Susie had come that much closer to accepting his claim. She’d actually talked about the possibility of a kid.

  Fuck.

  A girl baby.

  No fucking way.

  He’d be a basket case before she started crawling.

  While Gran-gran had been great in every way, he’d always envied those who had large families. Like Coach Tommy, who plucked him from the sidelines and welcomed him into the heart of the brawling, gregarious Irish Sloan clan. Sam O’Reilly had done the same.

  He wanted the whole shebang—kids, quarrels, noisy lingering meals, Christmas morning filled with bright-eyed tots. Male cubs. No females.

  Susie did indeed walk with a heavy tread; her bare feet swished across the backyard. He glanced up, and the oxygen left his brain. She wore one of his shirts made of soft denim, sleeves rolled to the elbows, with only the last button done.

  The material parted in a loving caress with each stride. Her nipples played hide-and-seek with the fabric, and from thirty yards away he could inhale her arousal. A wide grin claimed his mouth.

  “Hope you don’t mind.” She gestured to the shirt.

  “Babe, you can wear anything of mine anytime you want. But I much prefer if you wear me. Did you shower?” Raven, damp tendrils clung to her cheeks.

  “I was sweaty after the run.” He took the white wine bottle and the two glasses she carried and set them on the corner ledge. “Didn’t know hot tub rules.”

  “No way. You haven’t been in one before.” Man, had he lucked out. “I have a shower right over there. You know clean off before and after. I would’ve loved to soap you clean.”

  “That means you need to be soaped.” She rested her palms on his T-shirt. “I have a suggestion for my penalty box time.”

  “And what might that be?”

  She set her chin just so, and her nostrils quivered. Fuck. She was right on the edge.

  “Why, instruction, of course.”

  “Instruction?” The sultry, sinful smile she wore zinged right to his cock.

  “Teach me how to give the perfect blowjob.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Susie had the big bad mercenary stumped.

  Wearing a wide smile, she tipped Joe’s mouth closed and arched a brow. “How’s that for a penalty?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. Roared.

  Jamming her hands on her hips, she craned her neck and bit back a curse. “And what is so damned funny? I’ll have you know that’s the first time I’ve even said those words aloud, and your reaction doesn’t do anything for a gal’s ego.”

  In two seconds she was high against his chest. “Not laughing at you. At me.”

  A tad appeased, Susie waited for his hoots to subside. “And how is it that you’re laughing at yourself?”

  “If you so much as come near my dick with your very sinful mouth, I’ll lose it in a heartbeat. Not going there until we’ve fucked like bunnies for at least two months.” He rubbed their noses together.

  “Two months? Are you insane? If you think I’m going to wait two months when I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since I first saw you by the pool, you’ve got another think coming.”

  His dark eyes took on a golden hue, and he winked. “Forty-five days.”

  Crossing her arms, she retorted, “Three hours.”

  “What?” He snorted. “That’s not how a negotiation works.”

  “Fine.” There was more than one way to be a cocksucker. Susie slipped the shirt back to reveal her breast. She traced the outline of her areola and rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

  He swallowed, but his gaze never left her circling motion. She pinched the engorged peak, tugging at the tip. “You know how wet I’m getting right now. My pussy’s tingling. All I can think about is running my tongue over your cock. I want to explore that fascinating slit on the top. I want to see when that silky drop first emerges. Fifteen minutes.”

  Biting back a smile when he didn’t react for a second and then b
linked rapidly before licking his lips, she crooned, “I’ve been yearning to see you come, to watch your cock thicken and spurt. To know what you taste like. Are you salty, Joe? Musky? Spicy? I’m guessing all three, and I can’t wait for my lips to be shiny and wet like yours are after you lick my pussy. The last time you had my cream all over your nose. It was sexy as all heck.”

  “Deal.” He slid her down his body. “Have to shower first. In the tub. Naked.”

  Susie barely refrained from beating her chest and howling. Knowing better than to utter a word in the face of such a huge concession, she fumbled with the lone, blasted button, gave up, popped the shirt open, and shrugged it off. She climbed into the tub and sank to her chin in the warm, swirling water. Creamy bubbles dotted the surface, and it smelled of a hint of ginger.

  A string of lanterns in the shape of pumpkins hung in the branches above the shower. They gave off a faint orangey glow, and she glided along the tub’s smooth bench to get a better view of Joe showering. He had lathered his hair and was working up a fine foam on his back.

  Suddenly he turned to face her.

  Their gazes met.

  He widened his stance and thrust his hips forward. His erection bobbed between sinewy, powerful thighs. Working in small circles, he massaged the soap lower and lower, and his fingers tangled with the dark curls at his groin.

  She salivated, unable to take her focus from those thick fingers. Her pulse soared when he grasped the base of his cock and stroked himself, pulling the foreskin up and over the crown and running it back down taut. The slick, glistening head winked at her.

  Leaning over the tub’s rim, she squinted to see better through the shadows. He cupped his balls, soaped each globe, and palmed the rigid length of his thickening erection. She held her breath.

  Abruptly he turned around and yanked on the shower knob. The spray beat the foam from his back, he jerked the knob, and the water stopped.