Page 6 of Bullied Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #2)

I listen to the dull roar of the water filling the bathtub, not even bothering to try and stop myself from thinking about Lexa. Being trapped in the car with her was bad enough—immersed in her scent, her body just inches away from mine. But then, standing in front of the altar, holding her hand…

Kissing her.

That was one of the hardest moments of my life. The urge to grab her shoulders, yank her against me, and press my lips to hers was overwhelming. My fantasy was so strong, I could taste her, feel the wet heat of her lips as I explored her mouth with my tongue.

When I lightly pecked her cheek and stepped back from her, the effort of holding myself back literally made me dizzy. Luckily, my townhouse is close to the church, so I didn’t have to keep my shit together for long.

Except now she’s in my bathroom. Naked.

A low groan echoes in my throat as I close my eyes and imagine her stripping off her clothes.

Her skin is still pale as ice, just like I remember, but her thighs are shapely, and her ass is ripe and firm.

The narrow curves of her waist accentuate the swells of her hips, and her breasts are big and round, bouncing a little when she walks.

She was always hot. But in high school, she was girl-pretty, delicate, not quite grown up. Now, she’s not just pretty—she’s beautiful, stunning. A woman, not a girl.

The sound of the water stops, and my eyes snap open. That can only mean one thing.

She’s getting in the tub.

My mind lingers over images of her stepping over the high edge and slowly sinking into the water. I can see her hands, slick with soap, lathering up white foam across her breasts, sliding a hand across her belly, delving between her legs.

My eyes have closed again, and my mouth has fallen open slightly as I try to draw in as much of her scent as I can from this distance. Along with the tang of soap, I can detect her sweet, rich scent, carried on drifting waves of hot steam as they waft through under the bathroom door.

My fantasies are suddenly shoved aside as I remember the first time I really got to breathe in her scent. I had been tortured by it every day in school, but I’d never gotten close enough to her to really take it in.

I had to be so careful. I could never show attachment to anyone or anything. It would only draw Grandfather’s wrath.

That night in the cabin, when I took her, was the first time I truly knew her power over me. I remember the way her scent engulfed me as I ripped her pants off. How I paused, perfectly still, and tilted my head with my eyes closed and breathed her scent in, letting it fill me.

Then I pounced on her. I plunged my tongue into her pussy and ate her out like a starving man.

I was starving. I had kept my need for her buried under so many layers of control that even I didn’t realize the huge, gaping maw of need that yearned within me.

I tried to quench my thirst inside her, drinking up all her sweet juice, making her scream and writhe in my hands, feasting on her soul as well as her body.

Almost panting, I struggle to control myself. I can hear low splashes down the hall, and I’m tortured by images of what she might be doing.

Probably washing her armpits while I’m here fantasizing about her playing with herself.

All of these thoughts come with a heavy dose of pain. I wish I could forget about it, wash it away somehow, but I can’t. My wonderful moments with Lexa are tainted, forever poisoned by my own stupidity.

When I woke and the sky was light, I panicked. Grandfather wouldn’t mind me partying or staying out late, especially for graduation, but he still expected me to return for my usual duties.

There was also the extreme danger of someone seeing who I was with and reporting back to him.

The idea of him finding out about me being with Lexa filled me with frantic urgency, so I threw my clothes on and bolted, barely even pausing to enjoy the sight of her spread out on the bed, her lips curved in a small smile of pleasure.

Then she showed up at my house like I’d made some kind of mistake, and she was ready to forgive me for it.

Now the groan that shakes my chest is one of pure pain, not lust. The memories of me laughing in her face are far more vivid than those of her in my arms.

I don’t deserve the pleasure of the good memories. Not after what I did.

It seems so obvious now that I could have walked out of the house, right then and there. I could have turned my back on my grandfather and chosen Lexa.

Would he have sent a death squad after us? Would he really have done that to me?

Sighing, I get up from the bed and head downstairs. Grandfather’s beatings when I was a child were pretty brutal. I learned early on that strict obedience—and a certain amount of enthusiasm for his cruelty—were the only ways to avoid his punishments.

It’s over now. All over. I don’t know how to explain this to her or how to apologize, but I’m grateful that I have the chance now.

In the kitchen, I make a big cup of sweet, rich cocoa and put together a plate of cookies and fancy chocolates.

I lived for so many years thinking I’d lost her… and even though I tried so hard to find her, I was afraid to face her.

How could I possibly explain to Lexa that I did what I did because the fear of my grandfather was stronger than my desire for her?

It would have meant explaining everything about him, the inner workings of the top council.

And after she heard about all the other horrible things I’d ever done, there was a good chance she wouldn’t even want me.

Then her mother…

I pick up the plate and cup and make my way slowly up the stairs. There is no possible way I can approach this subject. I asked her why she left town as delicately as I could, fishing to find out what she knows, or suspects.

Did she leave, or was she taken? The house was untidy—not exactly wrecked, though. What happened first—her mother’s death or the decision to leave? And where has she been all this time?

I wish I could just ask my questions straight out, but I’m too afraid. If I admit that I found her mother’s body and brought her back to town, she might think I had something to do with it.

She can’t possibly know my grandfather had just placed a kill order on them… and that I was tasked to carry it out!

Fear ripples through me, making itchy goosebumps rise up across my shoulders. As I come back into the bedroom to put the cocoa and snacks down on the counter next to the bed, I let the feeling run in my blood, thinking of new angles I’d never considered.

What if Grandfather gave the kill order to the rest of his squad? Slade, Bolton, and Wick would have jumped at the chance. Maybe they got there ahead of me, killed poor Laura, and sent Lexa running for her life…

The idea is well within reason, and it truly does scare me. Grandfather took Grandmother out on their mysterious mission pretty much immediately, so I never had a chance to talk about other orders he might have given or find out his plans.

It would have been just like him to bring in his favorite brutes to make sure the job got done.

There was no point in asking those three goons, either. They were savages who lived outside of town and eagerly obeyed the orders of the elders, especially when it involved murder and torture.

I get undressed slowly, putting on an old, soft robe. My mind is churning, and my body feels tense, as if electricity is dancing across my bones.

How am I ever going to sleep in this state?

Even though I decide to wait up so I can talk to Lexa after she finishes her bath, I end up chickening out and pretending to be asleep when she comes into the room. I hear her faint sound of surprise as she discovers the cocoa and cookies, and her moan of pleasure as she enjoys the snack.

I’ll make breakfast for her in the morning. This was a poor excuse for a wedding dinner.

The bed squeaks and bounces a little as she wriggles back, getting more comfortable as she finishes her cocoa. Now all the ugly thoughts have fled, and I’m completely distracted by her rich scent mingling with the cocoa and sweet cookies.

I wonder what it would be like to kiss her with chocolate on my tongue.

I hold in a groan as I imagine the soft candy melting slowly, and the heat of her mouth as I paint her lips with creamy chocolate.

Suddenly, I realize I’m hard as a rock, so lost in my lust that I’m almost writhing under the blanket. Thankfully, Lexa is still sipping her cocoa and eating cookies, her back to me. She seems very relaxed, and I say a brief prayer that she didn’t notice me slipping into sexual rapture.

And I am obsessed. Not a single night has gone by where I didn’t think of her, dream of her, beg the universe to bring her back to my arms…

Closing my eyes tightly, I force myself to take slow breaths. My muscles gradually let go, loosening up as I focus on relaxing and try to forget Lexa is sitting less than a foot away, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

A towel! Wait… she has no clothes!

She. Has. No. Clothes.

My chest tightens so much, I can’t breathe. All my efforts to relax explode in my face as the desire to reach over and take her almost overpowers me.

Maybe I should be sleeping on the couch!

Lexa slurps a little as she drains the last of the cocoa from the cup, then crumbles the last cookie into her mouth. I put all my effort into staying still, wondering what she’s going to do next.

If I had thought of it, I could have found her something to wear.

I decide that if she attempts to put her old clothes back on, I’ll admit that I’m not really asleep and get up to find her something to wear. Even if my clothes are too big, I’m sure I can find a sweater or pants that would do for the night.

There is a light thunk as she puts the cup down. When she stands up, my ears follow the sounds so I can hear what she’s doing.

I hear a rustle as she pulls the towel off, then tosses it over a chair. Her soft footsteps return to the bed, and the blankets crinkle against the sheets when she pulls them back.

Lexa slips into bed.

Naked.

She’s so close to me, I can feel the heat rising from her skin. Her scent is all around me, in my nose and painting the back of my throat. My mouth is watering so bad, I feel like I’m going to start drooling like a rabid dog.

Not far from the truth.

To my surprise, Lexa’s breathing settles quickly, and she relaxes and drifts off to sleep. I roll onto my back, carefully not brushing up against her or even looking at her. I keep my eyes stuck to the ceiling, trying to empty my mind so I can rest.

I’ve never felt so guilty in my whole entire life.

My chest seems to crack with the weight of my betrayal. Lexa doesn’t even know how badly I’ve wronged her. And beneath the explanation of my actions lies the ugly details of finding her mother’s body.

And revealing that I know who did it.

And that I could have prevented it.

I close my eyes, letting the wreckage of our past expand in my chest until pain is all I feel. The arousal fades from my body, and I occupy myself with thoughts of redemption.

I don’t deserve redemption, that’s for sure. If I can just show her how I’ve changed, convince her that all I want is to make up for what I’ve done and take care of her… maybe then I can tell her everything.

Even in my exhausted, stressed-out state, I know I’m lying to myself. Even worse, I’m lying to Lexa—and I don’t know how to stop.