Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2) Read online
Page 13
“Go home,” he says, sounding as tired as I feel. “Get your head straight. No inking when you’re lost inside your mind, fucker.”
Maybe he’s right, but I could have used the distraction. So instead I walk more. I walk and walk, trying to feel something, anything. Even my anger has leeched away, leaving behind an aching cold.
Don’t trust anyone. Don’t believe things will turn out all right. Don’t expect anything. Not if you want to survive and remain sane.
Night has fallen, thick and heavy. The air smells of rain, and then it comes, pelting down, drenching me to the bone, and still I barely feel it. The wet only adds to the cold inside, filling me up with nothingness until I’m close to bursting. Like a balloon. Like a soap bubble.
This doesn’t feel real. I’m not really here. I don’t know where I am.
I glance around and try to orient myself. The rain is like a great plastic curtain, blurring the streets and buildings. I think I’m not far from home, and I force my steps that way. A wind whips down the street. My teeth are chattering. A coughing fit grips my chest, and I bend over, hacking.
“Micah?” a woman calls. “Micah!”
Goddammit, I’ve really gone around the bend. I’m hearing voices. She really sounds like…
Ev. I straighten. She’s hurrying over to me, her hair plastered to her face, her eyes luminous in the faint light from the lamppost overhead.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice hoarse and my head throbbing.
“I need to talk to you.”
I want to yell at her, shove her away—but her face is so sad I just can’t. Besides, I don’t feel the anger. The cold has filled me from side to side.
She seems to sense something is off because she tilts her head to the side and studies me for a long moment. A frown creases her brow, and she reaches for me. Her fingers close around my bicep.
“I reported him,” she says. “To the police. Not sure what they can do, but maybe if Seth can testify… Maybe they can get him.”
I stare at her, uncomprehending. I lift a hand to her face, and it’s shaking like an old man’s. My nails are a deep shade of blue. Pretty color.
“Shit, you’re freezing,” she hisses, and it’s funny that she cusses like this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her cuss.
I chuckle and brush my hand over her smooth cheek. She flinches, and my grin falls.
“Micah.” She takes my hand and her touch burns. “You’re ice-cold. Let’s get you inside.”
“Gonna save me again?” I whisper.
She doesn’t reply. Maybe she hasn’t heard. She’s tugging on my hand toward what I realize is my building. It was closer than I thought.
I dig in my pockets for my keys, then fumble with the building door and drop them. Ev grabs them and opens. The air in the lobby feels unbearable warm. I let her pull me up the stairs, let her open the apartment and drag me inside.
I drop onto the couch as she buzzes around, turning on the heater and bringing me a towel from the bathroom. When it drops from my hand, and I can’t find the energy to lift it, she takes it and climbs next to me to dry my face and hair.
“You should be careful,” she says quietly as she puts the towel aside and brushes her warm hands over my face. “You have this nasty cough, and it could get worse if you don’t get it checked out.”
“I’m okay,” I say, a bit dazed and already reaching for her. I need her. I know I should be angry with her, but right now I can’t remember why, and I need her like I need air to breathe.
“There was this man…” She pauses with her hands on my cheeks. The contact burns, but I don’t care. I want her touch. Need it. “A young man living on the streets. I met him only a few times. And the last time I saw him he was so sick… Pneumonia, I guess. I think he was dying. So I called an ambulance. I was going to go with him to the hospital, make sure he got through it. But a bike ran me over before the ambulance arrived. I broke my leg, and it was all hazy for a while.”
She’s talking about me. She remembers me. The thought slams into me like a bullet, and I gasp. Her face scrunches up in worry.
“God, you’re freezing and here I am, talking nonstop.” Her hands are all over me, stealing what little breath I have left, unzipping and pushing off my jacket, tugging on my sweater. I pull sweater and T-shirt over my head and off, throwing them to the floor.
My teeth chatter harder now, and I’m mesmerized by her hands on my chest, skin to skin. Her cheeks are reddening, and all I want is to kiss her.
“Your pants are soaked,” she whispers and before I reach for her, she slips off the couch and kneels between my legs.
Oh fuck. I’m getting hard fast and a grumpy voice in the back of my mind whispers this isn’t such a good idea. I swallow, watching her intent, heart-shaped face as she undoes the laces of my boots and pulls them off, then starts on my socks, her fingers warm on my legs. I swallow again when she reaches for my fly, deftly unzipping and dragging down the wet, heavy material, leaving me in my black briefs.
We both look at the huge tent in them, then glance up and our gazes meet.
“Micah…” she whispers, the low, raspy sound making my cock twitch madly.
I grip her wrists and drag her up, on top of me. Oh hell. So good.
She gasps, and I crush our mouths together, swallowing the sound. If I can’t have her, I’ll just break, shatter into pieces.
She pulls back. “You’re cold. Need to warm you up—”
“So warm me up,” I mutter and start working on her jacket. My fingers are numb from the cold and can’t quite grip the zipper. Her eyes are wide, but she helps, opening and taking off her jacket. My hands slip under her sweater, and she yelps, then laughs.
Together we drag her clothes off, and she’s sitting there in her white bra and panties, biting her lip, her hair all over the place, streaks of copper and gold, and she’s fucking beautiful. I lean forward, press my mouth to the soft mound of her breast, and her mouth falls open. I watch her face as I trail my lips over her silky skin, her soft flesh, lower where her nipple stretches the thin fabric of the bra.
Her breath hitches, and she reaches blindly for me, as if she’s on top of a cliff, and she’s afraid she’ll fall.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper and slide my hands up her back in search of the clasp of her bra. I unhook it and free her breasts, so I can lick and kiss them. I suck on her nipples until she moans long and loud, then push my fingers into her panties. I rub her clit and slide my forefinger into her folds, inside her. “I’ve got you,” I say again, and my voice catches on a groan.
She’s moving frantically on top of my cotton-clad erection, and everything is tightening, the pressure rising. I grab her hips and stop her, but she tugs down my briefs, exposing my dick, and the brush of air on the wet tip sends a huge shudder through me.
Instantly she stills. “Crap, you’re still cold, I’m—”
“Getting warmer,” I manage, and her concern makes my chest constrict. “Come here.”
Her lips taste like her, fresh and sweet, and she barely seems to notice when I divest her of her panties. I pull my wallet from my jacket and find a condom. I grab my cock and quickly pull it on.
She’s staring down at it. It twitches in greeting.
Fuck. “Ride me,” I whisper.
We both moan when I tease her opening with the head of my dick, then she’s opening for me, and I’m slipping inside her. The pleasure is fucking insane. I push deeper, and she takes me until I’m seated in her heat all the way.
This isn’t gonna last long. All the damn stress of the day is catching up with me, all that pressure needs an outlet, and she’s velvet and fire clenched around me. I snap my hips up, driving into her, and she puts her hands on my shoulders and bends forward. Her breasts are right where I want them, and I take a stiff nipple in my mouth, sucking and licking, as she rocks on top of me, breathless moans leaving her lips.
“Micah, I…” Her head falls back, and her
back arches. She ripples around my dick. She’s about to come, and the realization makes my balls draw tight. I thrust faster, harder, and she cries out, tightening like a fist around me.
Oh shit. My dick jerks. I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face against her breasts as I come hard, shaking against her.
“Oh God,” she breathes, still moving, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me. “Shit, Micah.”
I’m still holding on as if she might vanish into smoke. I refuse to let go, remember what happened today, what we talked about before we got lost in pleasure. I don’t fucking want this moment to end.
Refuse to admit it will and reality with come crashing down around me.
Hell, it always does.
***
“Are you asleep?” Ev murmurs, lazily trailing a fingertip down my chest to my stomach. She’s lying half on top of me on the sofa. We never made it to bed.
“And if I say yes?” I grin down at her, but she doesn’t smile. She seems to be in deep thought.
Deep thought is exactly what I’m trying to avoid right now. Good thing she’s naked, distracting me. I run a hand over the curve of her hip and brush it over her belly.
She shivers. “Why aren’t you still mad at me?” She watches my hand as it travels down to her thigh. “I reported Blake, Micah. Did you hear me before when I said that?”
My hand stops. Here it comes. I’m not ready yet. I move my hand lower, between her legs, and she gasps when I tease her seam open with my thumb.
“Do you want me to stop?” I stroke her, and her eyes close as her breathing speeds up. “Would you rather talk instead?”
Shit, she’s so ready. I dip my finger inside her again and again until she moans my name and comes apart in my arms, convulsing.
I’m breathing just as hard as she is. Reaching down for my junk, I find it rock hard and wet. I tug on it, and then her hand closes over mine.
“Micah. Did Seth say anything else to you about his assailants?”
All air leaves my lungs. “He did.”
There it comes, the sound of reality rushing back. Deafening.
“What did he say?”
“He said…” I lick my lips, and the cold fills me up again. “They claimed they did it for you. What did you do, Ev? What the hell did you do?”
“Me?” She flinches and pulls back. “You think I did this to Seth? That I sent people to beat him up?”
The hurt on her face is too much. “To hell with it, Ev. You asked what Seth said. And you always act scared around him and avoid him, and then you left from the hospital acting all upset. What is the truth?”
She gets up, and all the warmth leaves me. My teeth clack together, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. I sit up and watch her standing with her back to me.
“You’re right,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I should have told you everything from the start.”
“Everything? That sounds like a lot.”
Her shoulders slump. She turns to face me. “Remember you asked me what scares me?”
“You said Blake. Very ex-boyfriend.”
A faint smile tugs on her lips. “Right. Well, he obviously doesn’t get the ‘ex’ part. Plus he has an issue with me talking to people on the street. So he threatened to hurt any homeless person I might talk to.”
Shit. I blink at nothing. “But Seth isn’t homeless anymore.”
“Blake said he kept track of the faces of every homeless person I’d taken care of before my accident. I wouldn’t put it past him to have photos of all of them. He’s sick. I thought he was just trying to frighten me, and some time passed with nothing happening, so I thought it would be all right, but then this happens…” She throws her hands into the air, and her mouth trembles. “This is my fault, for thinking Blake wouldn’t do it.”
I gape at her. The hell. “I’m gonna kill that fucker,” I say, my voice a growl. “Where is he?”
“Micah, no.” She returns to me, kneeling on the sofa next to me. “Don’t do anything. Get Seth to file a report, and combined with mine it should be enough to get a restraining order for Blake, for both me and Seth.”
“What about others? What about Shane?” What about me?
This sucks serious ass.
“I mentioned this to the police. I’ll have to avoid Seth and Shane for now, until we see what happens. Blake may have a record already. They’re looking into it.”
“You don’t…” I struggle to suck in breath. “Don’t understand.”
“What?” She’s looking at me, her eyes clear.
She reported the asshole. He’s being investigated, watched. Why should I scare her now by telling her I was on the streets, too? I can take care of myself. I’ll be careful.
“Nothing.” I pull her to me. “Will you stay?”
“Let me just text my brother.”
“And your parents?”
“I moved out.”
She did? When did that happen?
She jumps off the sofa in search of her discarded clothes and her cell phone, leaving me to stare after her.
Would she move in with me? Would Seth mind? Would she like it?
Oh shit. Too soon. I lean back and close my eyes. I’ll scare her. She barely knows me.
Too bad I’m not sure I can live without her anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVANGELINE
When I leave in the morning, Micah insists he should accompany me, but I tell him no.
Truth is, I’m a bit worried about him. He looks good today as I kiss his warm lips and reluctantly pull away from his arms to go to work. But last night he wandered the streets for hours, frozen to the bone, and he coughed so badly. It scared me.
Besides, even after making love he seemed distant. Kind of disconnected.
He still doesn’t feel one hundred percent there. His eyes track me as I walk backward on the dim landing toward the stairs, but they’re flat like mirrors. What’s going on in his mind? Is he regretting being with me? What it cost his friend and the danger I put them in… Maybe he’s done with me?
But the way he clutched me to him, the way he pleasured me… The way he listened and acted like he believed me even though he has every reason to distrust me right now—the way he reacted, the anger on his face when I told him about Blake... He didn’t seem about to send me away.
Then why did he shut off afterward? He seems to be in a daze. Maybe the attack on Seth shook him worse than he lets on, and knowing what I know now about his past...
I shouldn’t have left him alone, I think as I hurry to work, smoothing down my wrinkled pants. Seth isn’t there.
He’s not a kid, though. He’s a grown man, and I’m not sure what I could do if I stayed home with him except drive him crazy. Still… Thank God tomorrow is weekend. It can’t come fast enough.
Cassie gestures at me to talk later, but customers keep us busy until it’s time for me to go.
“Are you okay?” she asks as I grab my stuff and get ready to leave.
“I moved out,” I say and laugh when she pumps her fist.
“Did you call Kayla?”
“I’ll call her now.” Someone is standing across the street, and fear curls in my stomach. Is it Blake or someone he sent? Does he know I reported him to the police? There’s so much I want to tell Cassie, ask her opinion, but more customers file in and she sighs, turning to meet them. “I’ll call you, too.”
“Yeah, you must tell me how it went!”
She puts on her bright smile and strides off to see what the customers want. I linger, unwilling to go just yet. I glance again at the guy across the street—and laugh.
This time it’s Micah.
I hurry over to him, and before I can speak, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a long, hot kiss. The world brightens and then melts away as he buries his face in my neck and whispers my name.
I love him. God, I love him so much. I cling to him and the worry fades. Everything will be fine.
 
; “Going for coffee?” he asks, and his warm breath on my skin sends me into a full body shudder.
“Actually I was going to call a girl to see if we can be roommates.” I draw back, and his blue eyes lock with mine.
“Ev, you know you can stay with me until you decide what to do, right?”
I hug him tight. “Thank you. I’m staying at my brother’s. I’m okay.”
He nods, a flicker of emotion—disappointment? relief?—flashing over his face. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”
I sense more under his words, but don’t press it. “How’s Seth doing?”
“They’re thinking of releasing him tomorrow.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me toward the donut place. “They’re a bit worried about the bruising in his kidneys.” His throat works.
I don’t know what to say to make this better.
We enter the donut shop, order our coffees, and step out to sit on the cold bench. Seems like years since we first sat here together. Silence stretches between us, easy and full.
Micah puts his Styrofoam cup on the table and stares down at it. He seems to be struggling with something.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “For believing the worst. For last night.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I say. “I’m not sorry for last night. And you couldn’t know, not without me telling you what the deal with Blake was.”
“I should know better.” This is obviously weighing on him. “I know you, dammit. Should’ve trusted you.”
“Not your fault.” I smile at him. “And you don’t know me so well yet.”
“Don’t let me off the hook so easily. Listen, Ev…” He pushes his hand through his short hair. It’s a nervous gesture, and I frown. “I wanted to tell you…”
A cell phone beeps, and we both flinch.
With a sigh, he digs it out of his jacket. Looks like he went and got himself a new one in the morning. “Micah,” he growls into the phone. “What is it?”