Page 3 of Breaking the Alpha (Serpent’s Tongue Ink #2)

“A re you using me for my aura?” Zoe teased, leading the way through the crowd. “Because I should warn you, I think my trip to Utah changed it from yellow to red after that fuckboy in Salt Lake.”

They waited while the elevator emptied out. “You’re still beautifully yellow and warm.” Angelina smiled as they stepped in. “And yes, I’m definitely using your joy to feed my own.”

“In that case, I’ll continue to siphon your pretty blue heart to keep me from going full-on flighty.”

It was a joke between them since the day Zoe stepped into Angelina’s store during its grand opening six months ago.

Seeing the collection of candles, gemstone jewelry, and oils in the window, Zoe walked into Wholly Yours with her arms spread, demanding her spirit be cleansed of her poor choices in pretty boys.

Angelina suspected that even if she had the ability to see or read auras, Zoe’s preferences were a little too entrenched to be eliminated with anything other than an exorcism.

“Speaking of red auras, our white knight was a walking cardinal sin.” Zoe huffed and narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t we have any guys like that around here?”

“We do,” she said as they stepped outside. “If I remember correctly, you were complaining last month that you’ve dated all the ones in your age group since you moved here and were looking to poach in on mine.”

Grinning, Zoe pulled her keys from her purse. “Oh, right. I need to get me some of those silver foxes.”

Scoffing, she gave her friend a quick hug. “I choose to release your insult from my mind, young grasshopper. See you tomorrow.”

She waved as Zoe drove off and was about to start her own short trek home when a familiar voice purred her name.

“Angelina, right?”

Turning, she saw the man from earlier walking toward the hotel entrance carrying a takeout bag from the new Mexican restaurant two blocks up.

His entire demeanor gave off a self-assured cockiness and the kind of relaxed sensuality only the most genetically blessed men could pull off. “And you’re River, if memory serves.”

“Looks like we both remember each other.” He wrinkled his nose. “I can’t decide if that sounded stupid, cheesy, creepy, or all three.”

“Definitely all three,” she replied with a laugh as she motioned toward the bag in his hand. “I see you’ve got a solid plan for the rest of your night.”

“More like a case of eyes being too big for my stomach.” He gave it a shake. “There’s enough in here for two, if you want to join me.”

Her brows shot up and the confidence he carried so naturally seemed to waver.

“No pressure or anything,” he continued as he raked a hand through his hair. “I just figured it’s late, and you might be hungry, and you probably don’t know what’s open at this time of night… and you really shouldn’t be walking around alone hunting for a decent meal.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing. Over the years she’d become quite good at reading people, and the only flag River’s presence waved was the white one of surrender from her own libido. “So you think it would be safer for me to join a stranger in his hotel room?”

“I—” He ran his hand over his face. “I swear to god, I’m usually smoother than this. I mean, I’m not trying to be smooth. It’s…I—”

Deciding the poor guy had been floundering long enough, she threw him a rope. “I would love to have dinner with you. Lead the way.”

He exhaled with a smirk and offered her his arm. “Where are you from?”

Deciding a half-truth would do, she smiled. “Wisconsin. You?”

“LA.”

They didn’t speak as they walked through the lobby and rode the elevator up to his floor.

It was strangely comfortable, unlike the usual awkwardness that seemed to accompany situations like this where both of them knew how this night would probably go.

Or, more accurately, how the morning would go.

But River seemed to be going with the flow just as much as she was, and while she wasn’t one to appreciate white knight attempts at valor, she could definitely appreciate a man with a sense of humor and a good moral compass.

She could also appreciate a man with the genetic blessings obviously bestowed on River.

Except it wasn’t the muscled form visible under his shirt she was thinking about when the elevator doors opened.

There was something behind the playful glint in his eyes. Something she recognized.

He was as alone as she was. And maybe he needed someone tonight just as much as she did.

She held back a moment as River entered his suite, giving him a moment to hide anything he might not want her to see before she followed him in. “Wow,” she breathed, scanning the decor. “This is really pretty.”

Trailing her finger along she smooth wood, she took in the rest of the sleek, muted decor, admiring the way the natural woods blended together seamlessly, their natural state highlighted by the live greenery interspersed throughout.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she allowed herself a few moments to appreciate the efforts the designer had put into creating a welcoming space for travelers far from home.

River was focused on opening the drawers and cupboard in the kitchenette. “I have mineral water, but we can order up a bottle of chardonnay if you’d prefer.”

“Water is perfect.” She took the plates and cutlery he set out and carried them to the table.

He toed his shoes off and brought the water bottles over, sitting down across from her. “I hope this is good. I got food poisoning four times trying to find the best burgers in LA when I first moved there,” he said, his voice trailing off when she bent down to unlace her sandals.

Amused, she straightened up and stretched one leg onto his lap. “I’d love to visit LA some day but I suspect I’ll prefer California’s deserts over the cities.”

His fingers undid the knot in her ribbons with ease and he unlaced them slowly, almost absently. “The desert is incredible. Lots of little quirky places to explore and hike. But the city is an experience all on its own. With the right balance, I think you’d love it.”

“Do you?” she asked, her curiosity piqued with this new tidbit of information.

“Do I love it?” he asked. He frowned when she lowered her shoeless foot and smirked when she stretched the other one over his thigh. “I love pieces of it, I guess. Mostly the beach. I never imagined I’d be half-decent on a surfboard, so that was kind of a cool discovery.”

“What brings you through Epson?”

He unlaced her second sandal and eased the shoe off of her foot, but maintained his gentle grasp of her ankle.

“Escape,” he grunted as his thumb traced circles on her skin.

He seemed to be at war with himself for a moment before he met her gaze.

“I’m in the final stretch of my divorce.

I got married when I was twenty-two. Next month I’ll be twenty-six. ”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not heartbroken or anything. Hell, I don’t know why we got married.”

“Yes, you do.”

His smile was tight. “Busted. Yeah, I do. We got married because she wanted the publicity. I suppose we were in love. Not deep or anything, but enough to make us think maybe it wasn’t a totally stupid idea.

” Shaking his head, he chuckled humorlessly.

“My ex is a social media influencer. A popular one. She makes a living on the image she projects. Companies pay her to showcase their products online, and weddings are influencer gold. The more I showed up in her posts, the more calls my agent received for work. And the more work I got, the more she wanted me in her posts. Then everything went to hell and now I’m here. ”

The hint of anger, confusion, and sadness she saw behind his practiced smiles suddenly made so much more sense. “I take it you aren’t a teacher or plumber.”

“Model and failed actor. We were in a marriage of mutual convenience until it became inconvenient.”

“The end of any attachment needs time to grieve. As I will when the taquitos are all gone.” When he snickered, she smiled up at him. “But that isn’t why you’re here.”

“Tell you what,” he said, scooping a dollop of salsa onto his plate. “Maybe I’ll spill more after you tell me something sordid about your past. And no, wearing fur doesn’t count.”

She bit her lip, thinking back over the last decade. “More than fair,” she said before taking a bite of her enchilada. “I suppose it depends on your definition of sordid. I had a pay-to-play webcam business for six years, if that counts.”

River’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. “As in?”

“As in people, usually men, paid ridiculous amounts of money to watch me make candles, bead necklaces, spin pottery, or, well, do pretty much anything.” When his brows lifted, she smiled. “Naked.”

He did a damn good impression of a fish for a moment before his gaze dropped to her chest and snapped up instantly. “Naked.”

Swallowing another bite of her meal, she nodded. “It was a niche market, so the rates were obscene. I made more doing two hours a day than I did working two jobs. Not exactly sordid by any stretch, but it’s obviously not something I tell everyone. Especially men.”

Setting his fork down, he leaned his head in, the disbelief still evident on his face. “Naked candle making.”

“And crocheting. And jewelry making. I dabbled a little in quilting, but I lack the patience. Coloring was always a big draw.”

“You’re telling me guys paid money to watch you color. Like, with crayons. Naked.”

“I prefer pencil crayons, but yes. Wouldn’t you?” she asked with a grin.

His fish impersonation returned and he sat back in his seat. “Well hell. I didn’t know I wanted to see that until you mentioned it.” He frowned for a second then grinned, shaking his head. “Of all the things I thought you’d say, I can honestly say a naked beading empire was not on any of my lists.”

“Would you be interested in a clothed sample of what my clients received?”

His green eyes went wide before the desire set in and the roguish glint caught her breath, making her briefly consider providing a naked sample instead. “I’d be very interested,” he replied, the hint of a growl in his voice. “What do I do?”

Standing, she grabbed a complimentary pen and notepad and walked over to the kitchen counter, sitting on one of the high-back stools.

Crossing her legs and unclasping her necklace, she looked over to him.

“Clients were always muted. The odd one paid to have their screen unblocked, but I simply ignored their activities.”

River’s expression was priceless, a mixture of confusion, desire, and disgust. “They wanted you to watch them—”

“There was nothing in the terms saying I would watch. Now hush. I’m muting you.” Closing her eyes for a moment, she found her center and began.

*

Fuck. Me.

River’s jaw was never going to come up off the floor.

Angelina’s voice washed over him as she introduced herself and made casual one-sided conversation. Her lilting rhythm held him in the moment as though he were hypnotized. Every word she spoke was carefully chosen, rolling off her tongue with a sensuality that spoke directly to his cock.

“I selected this one because of the richness of the stone’s hues,” she purred, holding the pendant of her necklace up and skimming her finger along the edge of the rock.

“The combination of its smooth finish, the coolness of the surface, the weight—it all works together to create a stunning visual, don’t you think? ”

She paused.

And he almost answered.

She lifted the necklace up to clasp it around her throat.

The movement drew his eyes to her fitted coral tank top under the white see-through shrug knotted between her breasts.

Her knee came up an inch, as though she were pressing her thighs together, and the thought of why she did it began swirling in his head, sending his thoughts to between her legs.

“I spliced out five inches from the rope so the stone would fall right—” another hesitation as her arms lowered “—here.” Her fingers brushed along the stone nestled under her collar bone. “It’s the perfect position, wouldn’t you say?”

He thumped back in his chair and blinked, watching as she held position for a moment then relaxed, smiling over at him.

“Essentially that, but naked. And for longer than five minutes, of course.”

“I, uh, woah.” He ran a hand through his hair before realizing his body was giving away exactly what he thought of her old business. Resting his elbows on his knees, he swallowed. “Holy hell, that was hot.”

She hopped off the stool and smoothed her skirt along her thighs. “But was it three-ninety-nine a minute hot?”

“That was ‘here’s my credit card, draw me a stick man for two hours’ hot.”

He tried to turn his attention back to his food, but there was no way in hell the cooling spread in front of him could hold his interest.

“River?”

Her voice did nothing to help his situation, because the mere sound of his name on her lips went straight to his dick.

Shaking his head with a grin, he exhaled loudly and looked up to the ceiling.

“Holy fuck. I would watch you read the dictionary. You’re going to have to give me a second to get my head back online. ”

She laughed low and husky, making his situation infinitely harder. “Want me to unblock your screen?”