Page 8 of Alpha Varsity (Wolf Ridge High #5)

Chapter Eight

A sher

Lotta puts her hands on her hips and glares down at me. “It’s none of your business.”

I bare my teeth. “Tell that to my wolf.” A deadly strain to my voice makes the hairs on her arms stand up.

She has to know my wolf will want blood. He couldn’t help himself from attacking Eric in her classroom last week for disrespecting her. I may hate her, but my wolf will defend her to the death. It’s just simple shifter biology.

I shove the panties into my back pocket and grip one of Lotta’s slender ankles. One quick tug, and she’s off balance, falling backward. I throw a hand out to cradle her head, softening her landing on the mattress.

Her eyes are wild. Her jasmine and honey scent is all over the place–a mixture of fear, anger, and lust.

Being near her simultaneously soothes and riles my wolf. I want her so fucking bad; it’s hard not to claim her right here, right now.

Of course, that can’t happen. Even if she didn’t hate me, I don’t want her .

I can’t trust her. Her family hates mine.

Lotta’s slender form is centered on her king-sized bed, which takes up most of the studio apartment. A pristine white eyelet bedspread frames her, and the heap of fluffy pillows by the headboard make it look like she’s a stunning model posing in an interior design magazine.

She rises to her elbows, her cheeks flushed with color. There’s a green glow to her eyes. Her wolf is showing. Whether it’s from danger or desire, I can’t be sure.

The desire to shred that bedding, break the headboard, and find out exactly why a tiny she-wolf like Lotta needs such a giant bed overwhelms me.

So does the need to know about the panties.

“Tell me he didn’t touch you,” I growl. I don’t mean to put a threat in my tone. Or rather, the threat is meant for Eric, not her, but her throat bobs.

“He didn’t touch me.”

My wolf is so fucking pleased with her answer. Not just because he didn’t touch her–I didn’t really believe he had–but because she offered up the answer. She’s agreeing it is my business.

I manacle both her ankles with my hands. “How did he get the panties?”

Lotta’s gaze flicks to my touch, and she tugs one ankle back, testing my grip, but the scent of her arousal blooms in the room.

She wants me. We may be completely at odds with one another, but the biology is there. There’s no one for her but me.

No one for me but her.

I drag her ankles closer. Her knees are bent, so her butt comes toward the edge of the bed. “Tell me, Lotta.”

“I hadn’t shifted since I went to college,” she says .

My brows rise in shock. I want to grill her about that, but I don’t stop her story.

“I didn’t plan on shifting for the full moon. I was at school, painting. I heard the pack, and then it was like I was a teenager in transition. I was starting to shift before I even knew it was happening. I stripped out of my clothes as I ran for the back doors. I’m lucky I didn’t shred my clothes. When I came back, I realized I was locked out of the school. My phone and my keys were inside. I meant to come in early the next morning, but I slept like I was in transition, too. Principal Olsen picked up my clothes, but he must’ve missed the panties.”

I can’t control the low growl issuing from my throat. The thought of any male–principal or student–touching her panties makes me want to bash in the windows of the school and set the whole place on fire.

It must frighten her because Lotta tries to pull out of my grasp, straining to kick me.

I pin her feet to the bed, sliding them wider, so her knees fall open. My wolf is right at the surface. I know my eyes must be glowing. The desire to possess her, to make sure no other male ever spreads a rumor about her again makes my brain short-circuit.

All I can think about is sex.

Domination.

Doing dirty, disrespectful things to that hot little body of hers. More disrespectful even than last time.

“How do I punish my mate for giving another male her panties?” I don’t mean it. At least, I didn’t even think of the words before they came from my mouth. But the moment I say them, my dick goes harder than steel. The idea of spanking that pretty ass of hers causes a fizzy excitement to shoot through my veins. I remember how much she liked it last time.

Remember how excited she got when I threatened it on her porch tonight.

In the state of my arousal, I fail to notice that she’s not excited this time. She’s too intimidated. She attempts to kick me again. “I didn’t give them to him! For fates’ sake, Asher–I just told you what happened.”

My palms shift to her knees, and I push them wider, up toward her shoulders.

Lotta’s breath shudders in her belly as she pants, staring at me. Her eyes are bright green, showing her wolf.

I lean forward, drawn to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh. I nip her there, then drag my open mouth along the soft, sweet skin, licking and biting as I advance toward the apex of her thighs.

The scent of her arousal cloaks my head. I open my mouth wide and cover her entire crotch. Her thin shorts are no barrier to the heat and damp I feel through them. I scrape my teeth along her sex.

“Wh-what are you doing?“

What am I doing?

I have no right to be here between Carlotta James’s thighs. She didn’t invite me. She didn’t consent. And she already slapped me three times for taking from her without consent last time.

Just because I’m her mate doesn’t mean I can overpower her and take what I want.

It should be the opposite. I should respect her. Treat her like a fucking queen. So what am I doing here?

I release her knees. Her feet drop down to the bedspread .

She’s still breathing hard, sucking her breath in and out like she’s just run a race.

I straighten, holding her gaze. I’m sure my wolf is showing in my eyes, like hers. But we are at odds with each other. This is a forbidden match. I may be a consenting adult, but she’s a teacher at Wolf Ridge. I’m a student. Besides, she doesn’t want me. I certainly don’t want her. As I back up to the door, our gazes remain locked.

“Asher.”

No. I don’t want to have this discussion with her. I don’t want to hear anything she has to say.

I wrench the door open and go through, slamming it on the way out. I jog into the desert, down to the wash that links the townhouses where I live with my mom with Carlotta’s parents’ upscale property.

I stop and lean against the shadowy side of our building.

My wolf is all riled up. He wanted Carlotta. He’s pissed I left.

“You can’t force a loveless mating,” I mutter aloud, trying to soothe the aggression before I do something stupid. Something that gets me in trouble once again.

Seems like I’m always in the fucking doghouse in this stupid town.

Carlotta’s jasmine and honey scent still lingers in my nostrils. The taste of her skin is still on my tongue. It will be impossible for me to sleep tonight.

Remembering I still have a piece of her with me, I pull her panties out of my back pocket and inhale deeply.

I hear the bang of a screen door as someone steps out into their tiny plot of property.

The flick of a lighter tells me it’s Murph Downy, a lineworker at the brewery. “Hey,” he barks. “What are you doing out here? ”

And there it is.

More trouble.

“Nothing. Just going home.” I shove the panties back in my pocket and head toward our townhouse.

“Aren’t you Johnny Martin’s kid?”

Right. Because everyone in this fucking town thinks I’m cut from the same cloth as my dad.

Fuck this. I square off to him, showing him my full size and a sliver of aggression to prove that I’m not going to back down because he’s older. I’m fucking bigger. This asshole isn’t going to bully me because of some assumption he’s made based on my last name. “So?”

He narrows his eyes and looks me up and down, then spits into the bushes.

“So, I’m watching you, kid.”

I bite back the fuck off that comes to my lips. That would be going too far. “Watch all you want,” I mutter, stalking away, into my own mini yard.

Lotta

I lie on the bed, panting. My body is feverish. The flesh between my legs is swollen, pressing against the seam of my shorts. It’s beyond achey. It’s painful.

Asher just did the worst possible thing.

Not the part where he threw me on the bed and spread my legs without my permission. Not the part where he nipped and licked up my thigh. Not even when he put his hot mouth right over the seam of my shorts and bit down like he was taking a bite of peach.

Even though for a minute there, I thought it was going to get rapey .

Just like out on the full moon run, I wasn’t sure if I would have a choice or not. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to be given one.

There’s something so thrilling about being under a male who could snap my neck with one twist of his big hand.

But the worst thing was when he walked away, straight out my door and into the night.

He walked away without satisfying me. Without taking off my shorts and putting his tongue where I desperately wanted it. Without climbing up on my bed and getting rough with me in a way that forces my surrender. Without giving me that punishment he promised.

And I didn’t know until he left how badly my body craves Asher’s touch. I need it as much as I need to breathe.

I get up off the bed, my legs wobbly. I go into the bathroom and splash water over my flushed face. My wolf eyes look back at me in the mirror. I’m still itchy and hot. I can’t think straight. Why did he leave without finishing what he started?

Was that the punishment? Leaving me aroused and needy and completely unsatisfied? I had no idea this was what it means to be near your mate.

Or was Asher showing mercy because he thought I didn’t want it? I probably looked like I didn’t. Did I tell him no ? I can’t remember now. I was nervous, for sure.

I was downright afraid when he first showed up, and that made him angry. He needed me to understand why he was here. He may hate me, but he’s my mate. He can’t stay away from me any more than I can refuse him when he shows up.

We’re biologically wired for each other, as horrible as that may be for both us.

Ugh !

Still shaky and hot, I strip out of my clothes and turn on the shower to cold. Maybe if I wash his scent off me, I’ll be able to calm down.

Fate, I hope so, or the chances of me sleeping tonight are nil.