Page 12 of Alpha Varsity (Wolf Ridge High #5)

Chapter Twelve

L otta

The scent of my mate.

Trees brushing against my skin.

Jostled movement.

The sound of running water.

I only catch snippets of consciousness until I find myself enveloped in warm water.

I crack my eyes open and blink, looking around. I’m in my bathtub. Asher crouches beside me, soothing the flush from my face with a cool washcloth. He fills out his worn, faded Wolf Ridge t-shirt in an indecent, delectable way.

Oh, Fate–the way he took me tonight. I turn my palms up to see if the skin is still torn from pushing against the rock.

It is. I haven’t healed yet. Something’s wrong with me.

My stomach rumbles.

“What happened?” I try to sit up. Try to take charge of the situation. I absolutely hate how out of control I feel around Asher. Because of Asher.

He puts two fingers against my sternum. With just those two fingers, he applies enough pressure to keep me firmly in place. “Don’t move yet. You passed out. When was the last time you ate?”

“I had dinner,” I say, but when I remember the meager serving of carrots and hummus I ate, I realize Asher’s probably right. All the shifting and the sex requires way more calories than I’m used to consuming. My blood sugar must’ve tanked.

“Why am I in the bath?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to bed with my cum smeared all over your ass.” His voice is dry, but there’s a line between his brows, and the tenderness with which he applies the washcloth belies the gruffness.

Asher stands. “I’m going to go find you some food. Do not leave that bath.” He arches his brows in a sexy-stern way that makes me melt deeper into the water.

When did the boy-next-door become this huge, bossy man? It occurs to me that I don’t know Asher at all. I remember a defensive kid suffering in school because of an unstable home environment related to his dad. I took on the volunteer tutoring job to improve my chances of winning a scholarship to art school, and it was tough at first. He barely spoke to me the first semester I worked with him.

But I persevered. I worked with him three days a week. By Christmas, he’d leveled up in math, and the rest of his grades were above a C. But the real change was the trust that developed between us.

A trust I completely violated.

I lean my head back against the tile and close my eyes. Regret and pain wash over me. For someone who used to be a pack princess, my life is now a tangled mess.

The scent of butter and toast wafts in, and I sense my body’s relief. I’m going to be fed .

I have to admit, after over four years completely on my own, cut off from the support of my parents, it feels almost too good to be taken care of by someone. It’s especially dangerous when that someone is the guy who just hate-fucked me on the mountain. And in the school bathroom.

Ugh! I still can’t believe I did that. It’s so shameful. So wrong.

After a few minutes, Asher enters with a plate piled high with grilled cheese sandwiches. “There’s no food in your place,” he grumbles. He sets the plate down on the side of the bathtub.

I reach for one of the buttery toasted cheese sandwiches that smell like pure heaven, my stomach gurgling loudly.

Asher leans a hip against the sink, his arms folded across his massive chest. “You know you’re a wolf, right?”

I ignore him, barely chewing the food as I inhale it.

“Why is there no meat in your refrigerator? Are you trying to be a vegetarian or something?”

I don’t answer. I want to tell him to leave, but I don’t have the energy to assert myself yet. I finish the first sandwich, and my hands stop shaking. By the second one, I feel more like myself.

I try to get up, but Asher shakes his head. For some insane reason, my body obeys his dominance, and I freeze.

“Finish the other two, then we’ll talk about you moving.”

I oblige him, reaching for a third beautiful grilled cheese.

“Lotta.” There’s a weighted tone to his voice that brings my gaze to his for the first time since I regained consciousness. But he doesn’t say anything about us. About this thing we’re doing that absolutely needs to stop. About how we should handle it or what we should do. He’s still stuck on the food. “Why aren’t you eating?”

I give an impatient wave of my hand that knocks the plate off the side of the tub.

Asher’s reflexes are lightning fast. He catches the plate and rights it before the remaining sandwich flies off the edge.

“Whoa. Impressive.”

“What’s the deal, Lotta? Talk, or you’re not getting out of that tub.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t hold me prisoner in my bathtub, Asher. You know one yell and my parents would be here and–” I stop my threat because we both know where things would go if I did that. Asher would be booted out of the pack just like his father. My mom would make it happen before morning. And of course, that line of thinking brings back our twisted history and the reason he hates me now.

He takes a bite of the last sandwich. “And?” he asks with his mouth full, his cocky demeanor in full force. “You gonna finish that sentence?”

My face flushes and then grows suddenly tight, like I’m going to cry again. But this time it isn’t about feeling helpless to my wolf urges. It’s from the power and potency of Asher’s wrath. I feel it hit me square in the chest and take my breath away. A blast of hatred that makes me want to curl up in a ball.

“No.” I throw a note of stubbornness in my voice, blinking back the tears.

“Tell me about the food. I don’t get it.”

I finish my third sandwich, and Asher thrusts his half-eaten one in my face, offering me what’s left.

I shake my head, but my fingers reach for the food anyway, my hunger still unquenched. “I haven’t shifted in almost five years,” I admit as I chew the food.

Asher cocks his head. “ What ?”

I shrug. “I lived in the heart of Chicago. There was no way I could hide as a wolf there.”

“So you just…didn’t? You suppressed your wolf?”

I swallow and nod. “Yep. That’s how I managed living among humans.”

Asher’s eyes narrow. “Is that why you didn’t come back for summers or breaks?”

“Yes. It would’ve been too hard to let her out and then suppress her again. I went through withdrawal symptoms when I first got there. I was sick for nine months. I lost my appetite and got really thin.”

I finish the last bite of the sandwich. Asher sets the plate down on the sink and reaches for me. Before I know it’s happening, he’s lifted me by my armpits out of the bath and set me onto the bathmat.

“You’re still really thin, Lotta.” He wraps a towel around my back but holds it open to examine my naked body.

It should anger me, this forced vulnerability. I should feel the defensiveness my mom’s constant criticism or input about me, my life, and my body does, but instead, his perusal warms me. I sense only a mate’s caring and concern from him. No judgment.

He uses the towel to tug me closer to him, my wet skin almost flush to his body. Close enough that some of my water droplets transfer to his clothes. I start to tremble again but not from weakness. “You shifted for me .” His gravelly voice sounds possessive. His eyes glow green. The electricity between our bodies is undeniable. Like the strings of an instrument, tuned to the same note. Reverberating at the same frequency and speed.

I put my hands on his chest and push myself back, desperately needing space. “Probably,” I mutter, turning away. “I didn’t mean to let her out again. I don’t plan to stay in Wolf Ridge.”

I hear the catch of his breath when I deliver that news, but I don’t see his reaction because I walk out of the bathroom to my dresser in the studio, where I pull out a fresh pair of panties.

Asher follows, watching me with those glowing wolf-eyes as I slip on the panties, a cami, and pajama shorts.

“Well, you need meat. I’m sure you know that.”

“I know, but meat’s expensive. I can’t afford it.”

Asher’s eyes narrow, and he looks toward the French doors that open to the pool and my parent’s million dollar property. “Why not?”

I’ve recovered now. My strength is back and so is my determination.

I march over to Asher and stop in front of him with my hands on my hips. He’s a foot taller than I am, so I have to look up to glare at him.

“All right, here’s the deal. You brought my wolf out. I clearly need” –I stop and wave my hand in the air, trying to conjure the right words– “sex now.”

Asher’s eyes light with new interest. “ Now? Did you stop having sex for five years, too?”

“No!” I try and fail to give him a shove. I only succeed in knocking myself backward. “Listen, Asher. We need some ground rules.”

I’m surprised when he nods. “Okay. Like what?”

“One:” –I hold up my finger– “Never at school again. That cannot happen.” I hold up another finger. “Two: No one else knows.” Alarm suddenly rings through me. “Have you told anyone?”

“That I fucked you?” He scowls, that sculpted chest stiffening. “Of course not.”

“Good. Keep it that way. And three:” –I add a digit– “Only here, only after dark, and no one sees you coming or going.”

Asher catches the wrist of the hand I’m holding up and brings my knuckles to his mouth. He bites them–harder than a nip, but not actually painful. “I agree to your demands. Here are mine.” He sucks one of my fingers into his mouth, and my body’s instantly on fire again. I still feel the twinges between my legs from our previous two rounds today. My body can’t possibly crave more.

But it does.

He releases my finger from his mouth with a pop of his lips. “Your body belongs to me. Anyone else touches it, they die.”

The intimate muscles between my legs lift and contract. My heart inexplicably starts to pound.

He sucks another finger and releases it. “I get to do whatever the fuck I want with you. If I want to kiss you–” He loops a hand behind my head and lifts my face to his. His lips descend and hover, millimeters away from mine, his hot breath feathering across my face. “—you open these lips for me.” He attacks my mouth, his tongue sweeping between my lips, possessing me.

I struggle–or rather, part of me struggles while part of me submits. And the third part of me just ignites into white hot flames.

He breaks the kiss by dragging my lower lip between his teeth.

“If I want to fuck you, you open those legs. ”

Said legs wobble, barely holding me up. The worst part is that I’m sure he knows his effect on me. He can smell my arousal. Feel the way I melt into him despite my deep desire to resist.

“And if you ever slap my hand away again when I want to caress you, I will spank you until you cry. Understand?”

My nipples pucker. A powerful shiver rolls through my body. I’m equal parts furious and turned on. I want to knee him in the balls. I also sort of want that spanking.

Why does that turn me on so much? Do I desire his punishment for what I did?

Face hot, palms wet, the best response I can manage is to spit out three words: “I hate you.”

A slow, smug grin spreads across Asher’s face. “Believe me, that’s a two way street, sweetheart.”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Asher walks out of my place leaving me hot and unsatisfied.

He turns in the doorway and pins me with a cocky look. “Oh, and I want a key to your place.”