Alpha Fighter (12 page)

"I want you," he says. "My girl."

The two words, repeated, are like a shock of pleasure through my already overstimulated body. It's not like how I was Nate's girl, bound to him because a peace agreement from our fathers and their most senior advisors said so. This is different. When Cooper calls me his girl, it's a profession of desire. It makes me part of a unit. It makes me belong somewhere and belong to someone because he wants me, not because he is obligated to have me.

"My turn," he says. "I want to taste you, beautiful." With that, he throws me down on the bed.

Oh. My. God.

Cooper

T
he taste of her sweet sex almost makes me lose control, and the way she moans, squirms, writhes, and gasps my name isn't helping. I just want to hold her down and fuck her hard, but I use all my military and MMA training in self-control to keep it together so I can give her the full attention and pleasure that she deserves.

"I need you in me NOW," she pleads, with an urgency that I'm not about to ignore. I don't have to be told twice. I'm up and poised over her with my rock hard member at her hot, wet opening.

"You sure?" I ask. I really want to have sex with this incredibly beautiful, naked woman lying on the bed below me, but I also care too much about her to risk upsetting her or making her uncomfortable for some fun.

Even as lust-addled as my thinking is right now, considering all the blood that's been redirected to my cock, I'm still unquestionably whipped.

She nods. "Yes, take me." But she hesitates for a moment, so I wait. "But gently?"

"Is this your first time?" I ask. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. The women I've been with before her hadn't been virgins since long before I met them.

She nods. "I'm a virgin."

I immediately feel protective of her, but I can tell that she does want it.

"I'll be careful," I promise, giving her a kiss. As our mouths lock, I slide a finger in her wet pussy. She gives a gratifying gasp, the warm walls of her pussy clenching around my finger before relaxing again.

"Ohhh," she sighs, eyes fluttering closed. She's so sensitive and her reactions to everything I do just get me going more. I'm having the best sex I've had in a while and I'm not even in her yet.

After a minute or two, I slide a second finger in. Again, she squirms at first before relaxing into me, sighing with pleasure. She reaches up to pull my face down to hers for a kiss.

I give it to her, long and deep, then slide a third finger into her. Now she's ready for me. I put on a condom as she watches in pleasure-addled rapture.

Then I thrust into her part of the way. She's tight, but relaxed for me, and she feels so good. Instinctively, her hips rock with mine as I thrust in and out of her and her back arches with pleasure, giving me a wonderful view of her supple breasts and feminine curves. When she starts to breathe more heavily, I lean forward a bit, so that I rub along her clit as I pull out and again as I thrust back in. I'm getting her clit and her g spot and it sends her out of control. Her eyelids flutter, her mouth forms a perfect O as her head rocks back. Her legs are wrapped around me, a hand on my bicep and the other on my shoulder, pulling me to her.

Her body starts to rock with spasms and I can't hold myself back anymore.

The waves of pleasure crash over me with earth-shattering force as I come in her.

Savannah

T
he sun is warm on my face when I wake up. I keep my eyes closed, holding on to that blissful just-woke-up-on-a-day-off feeling.

No work today and a nice long sleep in aren't the only reasons that I'm smiling. The memories of last night's awakening are still fresh in my mind. The way my body lit up from the inside with a spreading fire originating from my most private of parts. The way Cooper looked into my eyes, kissing me tenderly while taking me completely. The way the building pressure inside of me finally built up to a level beyond what I could take, then exploded into fireworks of sensation, sending the most intense pleasure of my life through my body.

I'm lying there, still basking in the afterglow of the most amazing night of my life thus far, when I get a bad feeling. Something is wrong. I don't want to let myself think it, but it's too late and I can't take back the terrible thought. I can't un-think the thought that the mattress feels oddly light. I can't un-realize that there's no body of heat warming me from the side.

I can't look, but I also can't take not knowing, so I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

Just like that, any good feelings from the moment prior instantly evaporate. Instead, there's a pit with the density of a collapsed star in my stomach, nauseating me. Taunting me for being such a gullible idiot.

What did I think? That I was special? Ha. This man is a well-known Casanova, almost as well-known for his rabid female fan base as for his top-ranked fighting skills. I fucking met the man when he was escorting some underdressed, sexed-up hussy out of here.

Of course I was just a challenge. Of course I was just another notch on his well-etched bedpost. All the jogs with Maxie, the shared meals and laughs, the conversations, and the MMA matches where he acted like having me there cheering him on meant something—he was just playing the long game. And now he got what he wanted.

And then, in my misery, another blow hits me. If I were standing, I would stagger. Chills run down my back as I roll over to look at the sheets below me.

There's a stain.

The room is spinning around me. I bled. That's it. After all my years of purity, I bled and I can't take it back. I can't rebuild my hymen by wanting it back badly enough. I can't take back my deflowering and be pure again.

I can't go back.

My stomach clenches. Until now, as much trouble as I would have been in for running away, I would have still been taken back. But now it's too late. If I went back, I would either have to admit impurity or my impurity would become obvious at the latest by my wedding night. When the goons come the next morning to check the sheets, there will be no blood and thus they will know.

There is no undoing the damage now. The MC wars will wage again and I will be disgraced, disowned, and exiled. If I dare to show my face as their fallen, sullied princess, I will only regret it. All will mock my failings and how far I have fallen. The tears start to stream down my cheeks.

I just threw away all of my options for a return to my former identity and life, and I did it all for a one-night stand with a man who may or may not even remember my name in a few months' time.

I am the world's biggest idiot.

I am on my own again, and more than ever, after being teased with a brief glimpse of what being part of a unit could be like. But there's no point in lying here and wallowing. I'm not going to be one of those pitiful girls who cries and begs a man to love her, to no avail. Either you're loved or you're not and I am not going to add insult to my own injury due to not being loved by demeaning myself further.

I wipe the tears from my face and force myself to stop sobbing. I gather the sheets around me as I sit up, as though I have anything left to protect, and scan the room for my clothes. I see a few pieces flung around the room from the night before, but my bra and my shirt came off in the living room and aren't in here.

Damn.

Then the bedroom door handle turns and the door swings open.

Cooper

I
can't remember the last time I got breakfast for a girl the morning after, but this isn't just a girl. It's Savannah. Being with her was well worth the wait. She's a woman worth wooing and worth caring for. It was still quite difficult to pull myself away from her this morning to run out for bagels and coffee. She sleeps like an angel, her sweetly innocent face relaxed in her sleep as she's curled up against her.

Cute as she looked lying there, however, it didn't change that she was still a very sexy woman who I very much wanted to take again. To keep from waking her up with a jab in the back from my morning wood, I finally dragged myself out of bed, threw on some clothes and headed out.

When I get back with a bag of warm, mixed bagels and a tray of two coffees, I open the door quietly. I'm not sure if she's awake yet and don't want to wake her if she isn't. I break into an instinctive smile when I see her sitting up in my bed, so beautiful that it almost hurts to look at her, but then I realize that her face is streaked with tears.

I drop the food on the dresser by the door and am by her in three bounds.

"Babe, what's wrong?" I take her in my arms, rubbing her back and giving her comforting kisses on her forehead.

It takes her a minute to respond. She looks like she wants to say something, or rather lots of things, but she settles on, "I screwed up your sheets." I can tell that's not what she really wants to say. But I'm not going to push her when she's struggling, so I go along with it.

"Babe, I don't care about the sheets," I say. "I care about you. Are you okay?"

"They're ruined," she sobs.

"Babe, you know I don't care," I say. "You're what matters to me. It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

"How do you know?" She's not crying anymore, but there are still tears welled up in her beautiful, brown eyes when she looks up at me.

"I know because I'm going to make it okay," I say. I say it confidently, because I sure as hell will make everything okay for my girl. "I don't know what you're running from—"

"I'm not," she protests, cutting in.

"I don't know what you're running from," I repeat, "but I do know that if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I am going to make them wish they were never born."

She smiles weakly, but then she shakes her head. "You don't know what you're up against. My demons are numerous, huge, trained to kill, and armed to the teeth with the best that street money can buy."

No joke? She looks dead serious. What is this girl's story?

Suddenly, I realize that I don't care anymore. I'm not curious, because it doesn't matter.

"All I can tell you now is that you are worth well more to me than any amount of bedding. And maybe you don’t believe me yet, but in a year, or two years, or ten years, you will." I kiss her forehead and hug her head to my chest. "I will fight anyone, and anything, to keep you safe. I mean that."

"Years?" she asks, the tears finally drying up.

"Savannah, I want to be with you," I say. “Not just for the night or the weekend. I don’t know where we’ll be a few years from now, but I really think that wherever we’ll be, we’ll be there together.” I do.

She smiles at me, that beautiful smile that brightens her stunning face right up and makes every other beautiful thing—the Grand Canyon, Caribbean beaches, Niagara Falls—pale in comparison. "I would like that, very much."

She hugs me back hard, resting her face on my chest, and I'm finally completely content.

Savannah

W
e have sex again.

I figure that there’s no undoing the damage that has been done, so I may as well indulge my cravings for this man and enjoy the amazing things that he makes my body feel. That, and the fact that I cannot resist him even when I try, as last night proved.

Besides, he came back. I thought he left me and that I was just another one-night stand. I thought he was off to do his own thing, without so much as a good morning kiss, and would come back at night with a casual ‘sup’ and act like we never were anything. I thought that maybe I was the only one who felt what we felt—but I was wrong. We really connected, in a way that I never had with anyone else and it was beautiful.

There are some cold, hard facts here. First, that I am irreversibly no longer a virgin. I can be as chaste as a nun for the rest of my life and that will not change the fact that I have been deflowered. My cherry has been popped, a serpent has been in the cave—whatever you want to call it, it means the same thing. I cannot go back or a fate worse than death awaits me.   Second, the fact that I cannot go back means that there may be terrible repercussions for everyone in the motorcycle clubs. There’s so much money from the businesses they own, and even more under-the-table money from drugs, protection fees, and prostitution rings, that they’re armed better than the military forces of some small governments.

But they are grown men and I’m a grown woman and there is no reason on God’s green Earth why what I do with my genitals, and what I do want to do with my romance life, should decide such major matters as a bloody war. For goodness sake, this is the twenty-first century and it’s not like they don’t have minds of their own and the free license to change their minds. The joining of the families is just a stupid agreement that they made over a decade ago and they’ve had an uneasy peace since then, even though we weren’t yet united. Maybe they can decide to continue that and give it a break. Maybe they can decide that the formality of me marrying Nate is unnecessary.

It’s been over a month since I ran away and nothing has happened yet, so maybe they already have decided to get over themselves. After all, they’re well-enough armed and thoroughly trained to go to battle at any moment, so it’s not like they need anything close to this long to mobilize their men and start the bloodbath. They could do it overnight, if they wanted. But they haven’t, or the deaths and increased inner city violence would have been all over the news. It would be way too massive to fly under the radar. That there hasn’t been any such news, and I’ve been reading the paper daily since I ran away, at least the front page, is a decidedly good sign.

Cooper left for training with Vlad after we had sex and breakfast. He offered to cancel, but I told him to go ahead and go. I know that he has a big tournament coming up and the qualifying matches are already beginning. This is huge for him and I don’t want to mess with his dreams as I reevaluate my life and consider the possibility of realizing my dreams. Besides, this time, standing in the shower with the hot water running through my hair and the steam enveloping me in a safe blanket of warm, damp haze, is great for thinking. And I sure have a lot to think about. But standing here, in a state of perfect physical well-being and basking in the leftover endorphins from this morning’s romp in the sheets with Cooper, things are looking more positive than when I first woke up.