The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (34 page)

He did want to get the shirt Beth Ann had left there. He missed the sweet smell of her, and it still lingered on the shirt she’d left at his place the last time she’d been there. “Just gonna check the cabin one more time.”

“Okay,” Grant said, and grinned as he bit into his sandwich. “I’ll be right here.”

He headed out to his cabin and opened the door, staring inside. It was a mess, but he didn’t care. That was how he felt inside—all torn up and hopeless. He needed time away from all of this. The mess could wait until he got back—or he’d just ask Brenna to clean it up. He moved to the bed, searching for that pink shirt.

And stopped. There was a box on the bed, and a note. With one finger, he flipped open the folded piece of paper. His heart thudded at the sight of Beth Ann’s loopy, girly handwriting.

We need to talk,
the note read.
Come be my hero?

When he opened the lid, a faint smile tugged at his mouth. And he felt a sliver of hope.

He wasn’t coming. Beth Ann struggled to breathe through the crushing disappointment even as she conducted the costume contest. She smiled, announced the names of each contestant, waited for the crowd to applaud, and every moment she was dying inside a little more.

He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here.

Why was she here? She should be at the airport in Houston, begging him to stay. Asking him to talk to her so they could work this out. That she wasn’t mad anymore. That she didn’t want to lose him over one stupid lie that had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.

But she stood up on the stage, numb, and announced the costume contest winner. The man, dressed in a soup pot with the legs cut out and a mishmash of stuffed animals sticking out from under the lid—she wasn’t even paying attention to what he was supposed to be—took the trophy from a cheery Brenna. They were done. Beth Ann almost stumbled in her haste to get off the stage, rushing down the steps of the platform. Panic flared through her—she needed to get to him. Talk to him before he left. Explain how she felt—

Miranda stopped her at the bottom, seeing the look on her face. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

“I need to stop Colt,” she said, her breath catching in her throat. “I should be in Houston begging him to stay. I can’t let him go. I need to go to the ranch, see if Grant’s left with him yet—”

Her words died in her throat as she saw a black swish of cape that quickly disappeared as someone stepped in front of her. She pushed ahead, and…

There he was. Batman. Colt. A giddy, nervous laugh bubbled in her throat—a laugh of relief, of hope. He hadn’t gone yet.

He’d put on the costume she’d left for him. Oh. Her heart thudded at the sight of him. Of the broad shoulders in the costume, the plastic bodysuit, the long sweeping cape. The cowl Batman mask that nearly covered his entire face, but not his scowl. And she couldn’t stop smiling.

Beth Ann approached him slowly, noticing that the fake muscles of the costume were not nearly as impressive as the tight sweep of his abdomen. His hands clenched in the black gloves as she walked toward him. A good sign? Or bad? She couldn’t tell, but she hoped it was good.

“Hi, Batman,” she said breathlessly.

“I always knew you’d make a great Wonder Woman,” he greeted in a cautious voice, eyeing her costume.

“Can we talk?” she asked. “Somewhere private?”

He held his hand out to her. She raised her hand in response and then realized he was holding something out to her.

An apple.

She took it from him, staring at it in wonder, her chest aching with the sweetness of the gesture.

He nodded at it. “I hear you give that to a girl if you’re interested in her.”

Beth Ann looked at the apple, then back at him. “That’s right.”

This time, when he offered her his hand, she took it, and he led
her through the boisterous, noisy crowd, back to the far side of the town square. To her shop. Looked at the door, then back to her.

Trembling, she pulled the key out of her red bodice, remembering the time they’d made love in her salon. Her fingers fumbled as she pushed the door open, then gestured for him to enter.

He did. She followed him in, then shut the door, turned back to him.

His hands went to her cheeks and then he was kissing her, his mouth pressing against hers, tongue flicking against the back of her mouth. The apple fell from her hand and onto the floor.

At her sharp intake of breath, he pulled away again. “You can slap me for that if you want to.”

She shook her head, noticing how his body was still pressed up against hers. Her nipples had grown hard under her bodice. She wished he wasn’t wearing the big cowl mask—oh heavens, the costume had seemed like such a clever idea at the time. Now she just wanted to see his face. “I’m not going to slap you.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” His thumb brushed over her cheek, caressing her. “I’ve missed you,” he said huskily, then abruptly pulled away. “I’m sorry. You don’t want this shit. Here I am forcing what I want on you—”

“No, it’s okay,” she said quickly. Her hands went to the rubber front of his costume, traced the bat symbol there. “But I think we should talk.”

He stiffened. “Talk, then.”

She took in a ragged breath. “That was a total dick move, lying to me about being stranded.”

Silence. She peeked up at him.

“I’m not going to apologize,” he said in a low, husky voice. “If
it got me you, even for a short period of time, I’m not going to be sorry about it.”

Warmth flushed through her body, her pulse starting a slow, languid beat between her thighs. “I…I don’t like that you lied to me, but I’m glad about the outcome,” she said, lightly tracing that bat symbol because she was terrified of looking at his face, watching that expressive mouth firm into disapproval or irritation that she was changing her mind. “That day, when I got angry, I…I didn’t realize that you hadn’t known that you were Allan’s brother. When I saw Allan that day—”

“I told that asshole to leave you alone,” Colt murmured. As she watched, his mouth thinned into an unhappy line.

“I know,” she said quickly, her fingers tracing the symbol even more rapidly. She looked down at it, unable to meet his gaze. “But the coupon thing had me furious, and then—”

His hand caught hers, stopped her fingers from their dance on his chest. “Coupon?”

She glanced up at him. She quickly explained the situation with the salon across the street—the coupons, the fact that Allan was trying to run her out of business so she’d have no choice but to go back to him. And she’d found it all out the same day, just before discovering that Colt had lied to her.

His jaw clenched with fury. He turned toward the door. “I’m going to fucking kill him—”

“It’s okay,” she said, grabbing his arm and tugging him back toward her. Her hand went to his cheek and she forced him to look at her. “It’s been taken care of. My father put the fear of God in him.”

“Good,” Colt seethed. “I’m still going to break his jaw the next time I see him.”

“That’s beside the point,” she said in a rush. “I found out everything that day. Here I’d been betrayed by Allan all over again in the worst possible way, and then I found out that you had lied to me, too.” She grimaced. “I overreacted.”

His mouth parted a little. “You never overreacted—”

“I did,” she soothed. “I know that now. I was so upset and furious that day that I just didn’t think. All I knew was that I was hurt, and angry, and betrayed. All I could see was that you’d lied to me the entire time we were together, and I was being made a fool again.”

“I wanted to tell you the truth about the camping trip,” he murmured, taking a step back toward her.

“I don’t care about the camping trip, Colt. I wanted you to tell me about Allan. How he’s your brother. If you would have come to me instead of keeping me in the dark, I’d never even considered the fact that you might have been sleeping with me to get revenge on him.”

“I’m not.” He clenched his jaw, hard. “That has never been a factor in why we were together.”

“I know that. Now.”

He shook his head. “It’s not something I’m proud to know. I hated being a Waggoner all my life, but…I kinda think I hate being a Sunquist more. I kept waiting for the right moment, but then—”

“I know,” she said softly as his body pressed against her own. He’d pushed forward against her and instead of backing up,
she’d held her ground. Her breasts pressed against his costume, and she felt his gloved hand slide to her hip.

“Your business?” he asked, staring down at her through the mask.

“Recovering,” she said. “I’m going to be just fine.”

“I’m not,” he said in a ragged voice. “I need you.”

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. “I need you, too.”

“I don’t want to go to Alaska,” he rasped, his hand grasping her ass tightly. “I was going just to get away from you. So you wouldn’t have to have me in your face all the time like Allan.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she said softly, and to her horror, her eyes brimmed with tears. “I still love you.”

“I fucking worship you,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’m not worth your time of day, but I love you, and I want to make you happy.”

“You do,” she said with a tearful smile. “You do.”

His mouth captured hers, the thrust of his tongue hard, needy. His kiss was the only response she needed.

Beth Ann moaned, her arms twining around his neck. “Colt,” she whimpered. “I need you.”

“God,” he whispered in a ragged breath. He pushed her forward, until they slammed into the counter of her hairdressing station. Her legs wrapped around him and his hands supported her, wedged between his hard body and the counter.

“Can I take this shit off?” he rasped.

A happy laugh bubbled in her throat. “But I’ve always wanted to make love to Batman.”

“Fuck Batman,” he said with a growl. “I want you to fuck
me
.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Let’s go to my air mattress in the back,” she said softly, and scraped her nails over the chest of the costume.

His arms wrapped around her and he carried her back to the small private area. Her small bed was there, and he gently set her down. Her hands immediately went to his belt, and she began to undo the costume.

“I don’t know how Batman fights crime in this shit,” he grumbled, tugging at the rubber cowl on his head. “I feel like a giant, sweaty condom.”

She laughed. “But you look so sexy.”

“Then it’s worth everything,” he said, his voice muffled as he tugged the mask from his head. Then it was Colt looking down at her, Colt with his beautiful, predatory gaze that raked over her. His short hair clung to his scalp in sweaty spikes, and she saw a smear of dirt on his forehead. As he shucked the rest of the costume off, she caught the faint scent of him—wood smoke. Her pussy clenched with need. “You just came from the woods?”

“I did.” He paused. “I should have showered. I didn’t think—”

“I don’t care,” she said, tugging his now-naked body down to her. “I just want you.”

His fingers slid to her star-covered panties, moved between her legs and rubbed just as he gave her another deep kiss. She moaned as he continued to rub her, and she felt wet and aching even through the costume. “So beautiful,” Colt murmured, then stood up and took her foot in his hands. He tugged her boot off and gently kissed the arch of her foot. It shot a bolt of lust straight to her pussy and she gasped at the sensation. He grinned at her
response, and quickly removed her other boot. His hands slid to her panties, and he pressed his mouth to her clit through them, burying his face there.

She cried out.

“Missed you,” he said, kissing her through the satin. “Missed you so much.”

She had, too. It felt glorious to touch him again, to feel his hard muscles, damp with sweat, under her fingers. To feel his mouth on her. He tugged her panties down a moment later, then smiled at her bare pussy. “Stayed waxed?”

She gave a soft little laugh. “Hope springs eternal.”

“Mmm,” he said, leaning to press a kiss there. “Hope tastes delicious, too.”

She shivered, then shimmied into a sitting position. “Help me get this corset off.”

He did, and a moment later, she tossed it aside, and they were both naked together. He fell over her, and she felt his bare chest press against her breasts, felt his dog tags flutter against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes as he bent over her to gently, reverently kiss her breasts.

“Beth Ann?” He looked up at her watery sniff. “Baby?”

She locked her legs around him, digging her heels against his hips to try and pull him down. “I just want you inside me, Colt. Now. Please.”

He kissed her breast, hard, in response, and then lifted up. His fingers slid between her legs, brushing against her clit, sliding through the moisture there. “Wet and ready for me.”

“Always ready,” she said softly. “I need you.”

His hand went to his thick cock and she watched his hand
grasp it, move it to her waiting hips, nudge the head of it at the core of her. She cried out softly when he pushed inside her, slowly, carefully, exquisitely. Her name was a soft, wondering breath as he pumped into her body, his thrust hard and claiming. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he began to immediately rock into her, hard. Yes, oh God yes, she needed this so badly. Needed him. And this was the most exquisite kind of torture. Her hips rose to meet his, her movements jerky with the need and tension through her body. “Please,” she whispered. Heat throbbed through her with every stroke. “Please, Colt.”

“I’m here, baby,” he said softly, and she felt his fingers reach between them, felt his thumb go to her clit. Felt it rock against her flesh when his cock surged inside her again. Her moans of pleasure became cries of ecstasy, and moments later, she was falling, the orgasm splintering through her body. He continued to rub her clit as he stroked into her body, and she gasped and moaned with every motion, feeling another orgasm speeding through her, feeling it build through her body. Then he stiffened. His thumb twitched against her clit as he came, his body jerking with release, her name a mere breath on his lips.