Page 10 of The Alpha’s Promise (Alpha Doms #3)

He didn’t often apologize, and it wasn’t easy, especially not with her.

Fortunately, she didn’t get high and mighty on him.

Of course, she may not have even heard, because his finger kept working the seam of her jeans right up against her clit and she squirmed against him, her breath coming in quick sharp pants.

“I found out why you smell so good for a human.” He licked along the shell of her ear. “You have some wolf blood in you.”

“Does that turn you on?” The husky purr of her voice nearly made his cock turn bionic as it tried to punch right through his jeans to nail that sweet little ass she kept grinding against him.

His vision domed but he drew deep breaths to keep the beast at bay. “How long do you think it would take me to make you orgasm right here, with those jeans still on your hot little body?”

She trembled beneath him, grinding her pussy on his fingers. When she didn’t answer, he gave her mons another slap. “Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” she moaned. She sounded close. Very close.

He slid his hand up under her shirt and kneaded her breast. “Thirty seconds? More?”

She reached back and grasped his neck, digging her nails into his skin. The she-wolf move made him roar as once more the beast surged to the surface, so ready to mark her.

He rubbed his knuckle over her clit, slapped her pussy hard and fast.

She squealed, yanking on his neck, hanging from it as her legs gave way.

With another firm grind of her jeans into her clit, he growled, “Come for me, baby.”

She snapped. Her hips bucked wildly and he had to hang on tight to keep the pressure where it counted. Her head thrown back on his shoulder, she scratched at the back of his neck, cried out over and over again while her entire body shuddered with release.

His own body trembled, the effort of holding back his desire so great. He whirled her around, pinned her back against the cabinets. His eyes had changed color, he knew by the way she stared up at them, fear and fascination warring in her expression.

“You… shouldn’t do that,” she said breathlessly. Even though she was right, it offended him. He wanted her sighing his name, falling against him with blissful gratitude.

But of course that wouldn’t happen. Not with Melissa and the lofty standards he’d never meet. With great willpower he pushed away from her and stepped back.

He grabbed the plate of steaks and stalked out to the backyard to throw them on the grill.

Like the last time Cody had brought her to climax and then abruptly left her, she felt unmoored. Her body missed his heat, his masculine scent, his growly voice hot in her ear. Her clit throbbed, raw after his torture.

He’d seemed offended as he stalked away.

What was he trying to prove? That he could control her as easily with sex as he could with the threat of punishment? Or could he just not help himself?

She secretly hoped it was the latter.

She’d seen the blatant hunger on his face when he first came in and saw her getup. His hands had closed into fists and he’d stayed glued to the door, as if he feared getting too close to her.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the fixings for salad, automatically getting to work as her mind turned over her six foot four inches of solid trouble.

Maybe this was the wolf form of courtship—hot sexual encounters littered with threats of far worse. And she’d rejected it with her warning after she climaxed. Which was probably why he’d stalked away, that tic in his jaw showing she’d succeeded once more in irritating him.

Their exchanges had almost become a game to her. Except it wasn’t one she was sure she wanted to win. Not if it meant Cody thought her a heartless bitch who only cared about herself, which she knew was how she came off.

But she didn’t need to show him her real self, either. This wasn’t a relationship—she’d already decided it couldn’t go anywhere.

By the time she finished putting two salads on plates, Cody returned with the cooked steaks, still looking pissed.

“Mmm, that smells heavenly,” she said in an attempt to ignore the tension between them.

“So you do eat meat?” he asked gruffly.

She wasn’t sure if it was another innuendo. Was he complaining that she hadn’t reciprocated with a blowjob yet?

She darted a sidelong glance at him and settled for an ambiguous, “Yep.”

He glanced at the plates she’d set out. “Thanks for making salad.” He sounded grudging, like it cost him to thank her for anything, or like manners were unfamiliar territory. It tugged at her heart. Was he actually making an effort to be polite?

“Thanks for the steak.” She tried to keep her voice light and friendly.

He added steak knives to their place settings and sat down on the sofa with her. “How much blood?”

She knew what he was asking—about her wolf heritage. “A quarter. My grandmother got involved with a wolf in Cheyenne. He had to leave her because she was human, and he never knew she was pregnant.”

Cody frowned. “Your grandmother couldn’t find him to tell him?” Surprise crinkled the lines of his forehead.

She stabbed a piece of steak with her fork and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm.”

Cody stopped eating, staring at her lips as she chewed.

“This is heavenly.”

He seemed to forcibly look down at his own plate for a bite of steak.

“She didn’t try. She said his pack made him leave her, so she didn’t want to interfere. He’d already made his choice.”

Cody wiped his mouth with a napkin. For some reason, she found herself surprised by how refined and cultured his table manners were.

She’d assumed him to be a sort of redneck, but instead, he’d placed his napkin in his lap straightaway, chewed with his mouth closed, and ate neatly for such a big, hungry man.

Not huge feats, but ones that neither Jeremy, nor any of the guys she’d dated in the past, had managed.

“It would’ve changed things,” he said matter-of-factly. “She should’ve told him. A wolf takes care of his own.”

Curiosity flickered, curling in her chest. She wanted to know how a wolf took care of his own, not in the hypothetical sense, but specifically, how a playboy wolf like Cody, who seemed terminally single, would take care of a female if he accidentally got her pregnant.

She shook her head to clear that errant thought from her mind. Where were these thoughts coming from?

Cody went on, “He would’ve protected his female and that pup with his life, provided for both of them. Whose father was he? Your mother’s or your father’s?”

“My father’s.”

She swallowed another bite of savory meat.

Cody had seasoned it and just seared the outside, so the rare meat melted in her mouth.

She found herself vaguely surprised that he knew how to cook a gourmet steak, expecting him to be more of the type to drown it in barbecue sauce—or God forbid—ketchup.

Instead, he’d produced better steak than she’d find at the best Colorado steakhouse.

“Your dad never shifted?”

“No, and he doesn’t know. Ashley and I didn’t find out until Ben marked her.”

Cody watched her lips again, that look of hunger flickering on his face before he dragged his eyes to meet hers. “What happened?”

Part of her didn’t want to tell him, it was Ashley and Ben’s story, after all. But some part she didn’t want to examine too closely thought he should know—that he needed to know, in case it became relevant for… them.

“It happened accidentally. Ben lost control and bit her here.” She indicated the place where neck met shoulder, remembering the horrific marks on her sister right after he’d done it.

“She recovered much faster than they expected, which led one of his pack mates to question whether she had wolf blood. We realized we’re never sick or hurt and our father used to brag he’d never been sick a day in his life.

Also, that the father line is blank on his birth certificate.

So Ashley and I drove up to Wyoming to ask our Grandma Jane, and she told us her story. ”

“Wyoming, huh? What’s his name?”

She shook her head. “She didn’t tell us. Why, do you know wolves in Wyoming?”

Cody nodded. “Yeah. The wolf community is small.” He’d finished his steak and salad and now he wiped his mouth again and set his fork and knife on the plate, like he was at a restaurant. “The Wyoming pack is coming to Estes Park next month for the annual games. Maybe you should go.”

She gaped in surprise. “Are you going?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “No. It’s my father’s gig, and we don’t get along.”

She filed that information away to chew on later. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that he didn’t get along with his dad. Even though he must be nearing thirty years old, he carried that ‘rebel’ vibe like a badge.

It was in her nature to serve, even a male who didn’t deserve it, so she stood, picking up both their plates from the coffee table and carrying them to the kitchen.

Without checking, she knew Cody’s heated gaze followed her and she had to admit she loved it.

She’d never been with a guy who made her feel so desirable.

The fact that Cody seemed unable to control his desire—despite his obvious dislike for her—gave her a sense of pleasure and power.