Alpha Trio: Vol. 1 - Cats & Dogs (4 page)

In his experience, there was no use asking a chick what she was thinking until she’d gotten it all figured out. Otherwise, all that crap that was spinning around in their heads during the thought process came spewing out their mouths. And then they expected his input, which made the process take twice as long.

No way. He would keep his mouth shut until she was less agitated and then see what there was to see. Until then, he’d just enjoy the view. Finally she stopped, hands laced together in front of her, and gave him a short nod. “Do you mind if I take a shower? I’m all over dirt and blood.”

The image of Cat completely naked in his shower, water cascading down her curvy body, made him grit his teeth as lust slammed hard into his chest. Why was this happening to him? He’d just wanted a nice, relaxing day off. Maybe a quick fuck to recharge his batteries.

Instead, he’d gotten this mess and now he was trapped in his apartment with one of the most deliciously fuckable Mundanes he’d ever clapped eyes on, and he had to keep his distance. The night was a big enough disaster as it was without adding his hormones into the mix.

“Shower’s through the bedroom.” He nodded at the door to his inner sanctum. She swallowed audibly, looking from him to the door and back. Then she stepped over his legs once again and disappeared into the bedroom.

Em drained his second beer as the shower turned on. He leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closed, picturing Cat unbuttoning her blouse and shrugging it off her smooth shoulders and revealing the creamy curves of her breasts, their dark pink tips visible beneath the transparent lace of her bra.

She’d peel off her skirt next, leaving her in just the bra and panties. Matching? No, he decided. The panties were prim white cotton. Work panties. She wasn’t expecting anyone to see her in her underwear. Still, the soft fabric hugged the lush curve of her ass and hips, clinging to the soft mound of her belly.

Em reached down to free his cock from the strangling confines of his jeans. He rolled the heavy sack of his balls on his palm, imagining Cat reaching back and unclasping her bra, freeing those big, ripe tits. He pictured her tossing the garment away and then kneading the soft flesh, relieving the ache of constriction.

He did the same, sliding his fist along his aching cock, squeezing as he reached the tip. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of pre-cum there. He envisioned the smooth, warm flesh of Cat’s breasts wrapping around his shaft. His breath stuttered in his chest.

“Fuck,” Em moaned, pumping his fist along his rigid length. He heard the muted sound of the shower that meant she’d stepped beneath the spray and inhaled a sharp breath. How would she look, dark hair slick to her head, breasts jiggling as she reached up to push the wet mass off her forehead.

Water would be pouring over her shoulders and down her chest, spilling over her stomach and thighs. He wondered if she shaved her pussy, or if it was covered in curls as dark brown as the hair on her head. He hoped she wasn’t shaved. He liked a woman who was groomed, but not bare. The thick tangle of hair over a woman’s slit turned Em on desperately. He loved running his fingers through the thatch, tugging.

He could easily imagine spending a long time with his face buried between Cat’s milky thighs, lapping at that sweet cleft, making her squeal and beg before he climbed up and drove his throbbing length deep into her hot, wet passage. Em grunted as pleasure crackled in the base of his spine. He stroked faster, pumping his hips, sliding his cock in and out of his fist as he imagined it was the silken confines of Cat’s pussy.

Em wanted to lay her out and pound into her, watch those impossible eyes widen and her plump pouting lips tremble as she came, squeezing him hard and calling his name. The picture was so vivid in his mind he swore he could feel her wet heat wrapped around his shaft, sliding down over the sensitive tip of his cock. He arched upward, balls tightening, as his orgasm ripped through him.

“Oh fuck, Cat!” He groaned, his cock jerking as he came. He quickly cupped his hand over the spurting head of his cock, catching the jets of warm spunk in his palm as he continued to squeeze and stroke his spasming length. He panted as he emptied his balls into his hand. He would have rather dumped this particular load – not to mention several more – in the luscious Cat. But that way lay too much complication.

He collapsed back against the couch for a moment, letting his breathing return to normal and his heart slow. Despite the orgasm that had just flowed through him, his cock was slow to soften. With a disgusted growl he tucked his semi back into his pants and got to his feet. Just in time too. The shower shut off a moment later. Unbidden, the image of her toweling off popped into his mind. His dick twitched again. What was it about this chick that had him constantly hard?

He gritted his teeth and sent a firm ‘down boy’ message below, wiped his sticky hand on a paper towel, and tossed it in the trash. He was getting ready to rinse his hands when he saw the streak of cum on the bottom of his black t-shirt. Damn it. Not quick enough to catch it all. He tugged the shirt off over his head and tossed it into the sink.

Em had washed his hands and was wringing the damp shirt out when Cat emerged from his bedroom. She froze in the doorway as she took in his shirtless state. It wasn’t until her eyes dropped to his pants and widened a fraction that he realized he hadn’t done his pants up all the way either. He’d zipped back up, but the buttons were still undone. Her gaze lingered and she bit her lip. Em’s stomach muscles tightened with desire and his traitorous cock surged back to life.

“Uh. Spilled some beer,” was all he managed before his own gaze registered what she was wearing. Em could have sworn his heart stopped beating. His lungs went still. Fire exploded in his gut. His already half-hard cock swelled with blood, harder than before. His hands clenched on the cold, damp fabric of his shirt. His other shirt. The one not currently draped over Cat’s statuesque frame.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she murmured, flushing and fiddling with the hem. It was one of the few button downs he owned. Em was mostly a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, but every once in awhile his mother insisted he dress up for something. The last ‘something’ had been his cousin Anita’s wedding. He’d worn the very blue button down that Cat now sported. It hadn’t looked half as good on him. “My clothes are a little wrecked. I rinsed them out and hung them on the shower rod.”

The shirt came down to just above her knees, nearly as long as the skirt had been. She’d rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, but they kept slipping down. Cat had buttoned it up nearly to her throat, but the buttons strained to contain her bountiful assets. Em swallowed, dropping the wet t-shirt back into the sink.

“It’s fine. Are you hungry? I think I have some... uh...” He wasn’t sure if he had anything to eat in the apartment. He got most of his meals at headquarters. Or his mother’s house. He knew how to cook, and did occasionally. But mostly at HQ. He didn’t keep the cupboards stocked here. “Cereal?” That seemed like a safe bet.

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I had dinner before my... um... my meeting.” She tugged at the hem of the shirt. Her meeting with the vampire serial killer. He needed to remember that. No fucking the Mundane. She was already in this too deep. Em didn’t need to give her another reason to pry into their world.

He glanced at the clock. Nearly 2 AM. Where the hell were Grig and Drei? They should be back by now. “Well, hopefully my brothers will be back soon. Once your vampire problem is taken care of, we can take you home. Maybe you should get some rest until then?” Please, he wanted to say. Go in the other room, shut the door, and sleep until it’s time for you to go.

No such luck.

“I’m kind of keyed up still, actually. Do you mind... could we maybe watch some TV?”

He nodded, striding back to the couch and picking up the remote. Em sprawled in the righthand corner, Cat took the left. Neither one of them spoke as he flipped through the channels, looking for something to occupy their minds. Tension hung thick in the air. Cat combed her fingers through her wet hair, flicking quick glances at him from the corner of her eye.

Kate Beckinsale in tight leather flashed on the screen and Em paused in his channel surfing. Then, realizing what movie it was, he snorted. Beside him, Cat giggled.

“I actually kind of love this movie.”

Em quirked a brow at her. “Seriously? It’s terrible.”

She shrugged one round shoulder, lips twitching. “You’re just biased. It is mostly from the vampire point of view, after all. At least, until the later ones.”

He shook his head, but left the movie on. Cat became engrossed almost immediately, her posture relaxing. She bent her knees and pulled them against her chest, baring the rounded curve of her thigh all the way up to her ass. Her panties were white, Em saw.

His cock took another leap in his pants. He wanted to smack himself in the forehead, try to reset his brain, which seemed to respond to every single thing Cat did with a rush of blood to the groin. He settled for rubbing at the spot between his eyes instead.

“Is this what it’s really like?” She was looking at him, chewing that full lower lip. “I mean, not this exactly but... vampires and werewolves... sworn enemies... fighting to the death... all that?”

Em scrubbed a hand hard over his cheek, feeling the rasp of his whiskers. He should probably shave. “No, not really.” He still couldn’t decide why he was telling her all this stuff. Sure, she’d seen things he couldn’t explain away but he didn’t have to give her the crash course. Yet, every time she asked a question it just felt natural to answer her. She must be a hell of a reporter.

“We’re not sworn enemies. Sometimes, on a very rare occasion, we even work together to deal with big stuff. An out of control coven, and rogue Shifter pack. They have their... police force, I’d guess you call it. And we have ours. We make sure when things of the unexplainable variety happen, they get taken care of.”

Cat bit her thumb nail. “So... tonight?”

“They were causing a disturbance that was likely to draw attention. We dealt with it. I’ll have to write it up tomorrow. Stuff like that is pretty commonplace, really. Just not usually in such a crowded place. Even bloodsuckers are generally more careful than that.” Em scratched at his chest, eyeing the smooth curve of her calf.

“‘Write it up’? Like, a report? Do you have a police chief and everything?” She snickered, her nose wrinkling. It was a cute facial expression that had the strange effect making Em want to kiss her on the tip of the nose and bury his cock in her at the same time.

Something of that must have shown on his face, because she shifted on the couch nervously. At some point, they’d both moved slightly closer together. Em’s left knee almost touched Cat’s bare right thigh.

“Like a report,” he replied, clearing his throat. “And not a chief, exactly. Though she does give out assignments and rides our asses about paperwork.” The smile that stretched his mouth was genuine. Some of the guys in the Pack thought it was weird for Em and his brothers, working for their mom. But the way he figured it, they’d just been groomed for the position their whole lives.

“Your chief... or whatever... is a woman?” She leaned closer, clearly intrigued. Her brows, which were shaped almost like upside-down V’s, lowered. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of his jeans. She smelled of soap, her own warm, sugary scent, and
him
. From the shirt. But the mixture of their scents sent a spike of lust through him. His cock throbbed.

“Mmmhmm.” He tried to concentrate on the movie, but it was mostly just a series of shifting shadows in front of him. He was really watching her out of the corner of his eye. She twisted toward him, not even paying attention to the TV anymore. Her right leg was laid flat, her knee touching his right hip. Her left leg was still bent. She rested her chin on it. Em tried not to stare at the soft shadow between her thighs.

“I would have thought...” She paused, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. “Aren’t wolf packs usually male dominant?”

“We’re not exactly wild wolves, Cat.” It was taking all his effort to leave his hands limp on his thighs and not reach over and haul her into his lap. “And that’s not exactly true of them, either. The leader of Alpha Trio – and that’s just a designation, not a title – the chief, is the usually someone who’s worked their way up through the ranks and then gotten selected for the role.”