The Alpha’s Tempting Mate

Jackson

Kylie pales when I say she allegedly has been blackmailed. If not for the hurt I read on her face, I might have stayed on the fence about her. But it’s so palpable, I swear I can scent it.

And then this new mate-driven part of me has to step closer and make up for wounding her. She’s standing opposite side of the island from Sam, who’s eaten three packages of cold cuts since we’ve been standing here. I sidle next to her and give Sam a warning look about the meat. He immediately sweeps away the empty packages, dumping them in the trash, which, of course, only draws more attention to his carnivorous appetite.

“You were hungry,” Kylie observes.

My wolf hearing detects the sound of her stomach grumbling. I don’t want to feed her. Well, that’s a lie, but I need to get her out of my house before I do something unforgivable to that hot little body of hers. She’s standing in nothing but my sweatshirt, which looks incredibly hot, slipping off one shoulder. Knowing her bare pussy is just a hand-reach away has me balling my fists on the countertop.

“Are you hungry, Catgirl?”

She hesitates for a moment then shakes her head.

I cock my head, annoyed that she lied. If Sam wasn’t standing there, I’d give her a second spanking for it. “Say it out loud,” I say softly.

“What?”

“You’re lying. I want to hear you say it out loud so I know how it sounds when you lie.”

She flushes to her ears and, this time, I enjoy making her squirm. I’ve watched hundreds of employees or other wolves fidget under my dominance, but it’s never turned me on like this. I want to strip her, tie her up, and interrogate her with a riding crop.

And that image is not helping me stay disengaged. At all.

But she rallies, lifting her chin. “I didn’t come here to eat.”

“Sam, get her something,” I command. As soon as I say it, I realize it will sound off to her. Without the lens of pack dynamics, she’ll see him exactly as the whipping boy she described in the elevator.

To make it worse, Sam flicks me a condemning look before he obeys. He pulls out a package of cold cuts, bread, and condiments and starts making a sandwich without asking what she likes.

It annoys me more than it should, but Kylie’s stomach complains again, and she looks appreciatively at the food, so I figure it’s okay.

“I’m going to take you home. You’re going to come to work tomorrow, like nothing happened. Let me know if they make contact again,” I tell her as Sam makes the sandwich.

She lets out an impatient puff of air, but lowers her chin. “Yes, sir.”

My cock goes rock hard. Hearing those words, the same ones that normally annoy the hell out of me coming from kiss-ass employees, feels like a total win. This time I picture her on her knees at my feet, gazing up with those beautiful, gold-flecked eyes, waiting for my command.

Sam slides the plate across the counter to Kylie.

“Thank you, Sam.” She picks it up and eats with enough gusto to satisfy the itchy part of me driven to tend to her comfort.

“You need me to do anything?” Sam asks.

“Bring her bicycle in from outside the gate and put it in the back of the Range Rover.”

He nods and leaves, and I turn on Kylie. “If you say one goddamn word about him being my whipping boy, I’ll bend you over and spank you again.”

Her lips stretch into a wide smile, and she flicks the last crumb of sandwich from the corner of her mouth with her tongue. The flash of pink makes my cock surge again. I’m barely keeping it together with this girl.

“He’s an adopted brother. I took him in as a homeless teen.”

“Hmm.” She takes another bite. “That’s a fact that has never been reported about you.”

“I don’t owe the public any part of my private life.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets-usually.” She flushes again.

I arch a brow, trying to figure out what made her blush.

“For some reason, being around you is like drinking truth serum.” She can’t quite look me in the eye, and I find it so damn appealing, I reach for her, pulling her body up against mine with one arm around her waist and one hand behind her head.

“You’d better never lie to me, babygirl, or I’ll make you very sorry.”

Her breath catches, full lips part. The heady scent of her arousal wafts up and sets my wolf howling. Heat prickles my skin. “You like to punish.” She sounds breathless. “I got that much right.”

“You did.”

Before tonight, I would have denied it, but I sure as hell enjoyed spanking her perfect ass. I nip her lips, tasting the sweetness there. With great effort, I pull away and cup her chin. “So, the truth. Who do you think left you the envelope?”

A line creases between her brows. “I don’t know. That’s why I want to see the code. I might recognize the style.”

I nod. “Okay. Maybe tomorrow. After I take a look.” I still don’t trust her fully, and I need to look at the malware when I’m not distracted by her intoxicating presence. “Let’s go.”

I have to get this female back in her clothes and out of my house. Before I lose my mind completely.

~.~

Kylie

I don’t want to ride home with Jackson, but I’m too exhausted for another long bike ride in the rain. The thing is-I don’t like riding in other people’s cars. I’m fine in my own. I know the exits and can control the vehicle. I can roll the windows down if I get itchy.

I’m relieved to see it’s a Range Rover and not some tiny sports car. I climb in the passenger side and give him my address. I keep my hand on the door handle.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Jackson turns into Mr. Silent again, nearly giving me whiplash with the hot and cold thing. I know he’s into me. Even as inexperienced as I am, I’m sure of it. But it’s like he doesn’t want to be. And it’s not about trust, because he was like that even before he knew I’m Catgirl.

He pulls out of the gated driveway and onto the road. “What happened to you?” he asks softly.

I swivel my gaze to him, and he lifts his chin toward my white knuckles on the handle. “The confined spaces. Something happened.” Without my asking, he cracks my window an inch, even though it’s raining.

My throat closes. I’ve never talked about it, not even with Meme. I’m not even sure I can. But Jackson is my truth serum.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Something happened.” I close my eyes against the memory of the panic. The walls closing in on me, my shoulders compressed, head unable to lift, darkness all around.

He says nothing, and the space between us stretches like an invitation, a pool of real I could jump into if I only dared.

Can I? Be real with someone who isn’t a family member?

No. My father’s death proved you can’t trust anyone but family. But my lips move anyway. “I got stuck in a tight space once. There was no one around to help, and it took me hours to get out.” I’m gripping the door handle so hard I might tear it off.

Jackson reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You’re safe now, baby. You have your own exit. I’ll pull over at a moment’s notice if you needed to bail. Okay?”

Something tightens in my solar plexus as the torment of that particular trauma tries to come out. I suck in deep breaths. No fucking way I’m going to start bawling in Jackson King’s car. Damn him for dragging this out of me.

“Hey.” He releases my hand and contorts his arm to push on my solar plexus, the way he did in the elevator. “You’re okay.” He starts to pull over, and I shake my head.

“No. Keep driving. It isn’t the car,” I choke.

“Tell me the rest,” he demands. His voice is hard, like he’s suddenly furious. At what, I can’t fathom.

I shake my head. “Drop it.”

“Not going to happen. Tell me, or I’ll pull over and help you, baby.”

I had no idea what help you meant, but I didn’t want this to be a big deal. “Something bad happened. Right before,” I blurt.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel.

“Not what you’re thinking.” I realize he might be going with some sex abuse or child molestation thing because his face turned absolutely murderous.

“Not sexual.” My throat works. “I saw a murder.”

Murder. The word has a jagged edge to it that charges the confined space of the vehicle with danger. The danger I’ve been in ever since that night. “I had to stay hidden. And then, afterward, I couldn’t find my way out. I guess shock confused me.”

Jackson curses. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.” A year after I hacked SeCure and thought I was the smartest girl in the universe.

He eases the pressure off my sternum and slides his hand behind my head. “Thank you for telling me.”

I roll the window all the way down and let the rain pelt my face, hiding the rogue tear that slipped out. Actually, unbelievably, I feel lighter. Like speaking the words freed the lock on the darkness I trapped in my chest eight years ago. It lifts from me, still hanging in the car, still sobering and depressing but less intense. I imagine it getting sucked out the window, back to the ether. Whatever ether is.

“I’ve never told anyone,” I say finally, my voice slightly raspy from the withheld tears.

“Now you have.”

A deep sense of comfort settles over me like a blanket. For the first time in years-since my mom died-I don’t feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Alone. Someone shares my secret, and the world hasn’t imploded.

Not yet, anyway.

Maybe I’ll pay for this later. I lean my head back against the headrest, cooled by the splattering of rain, soothed by the shush of Jackson’s wipers.

He pulls up in front of my house. “See you tomorrow.”

For one moment, I consider running again. I’ve done the right thing by giving Jackson the thumb drive, but if things are going to get hot, if the blackmailers are going to call the FBI, it would be better for me to leave town.

Except the thought of not seeing Jackson tomorrow is too much. I push open the door and step out. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”