Chapter 3 Ryker
Normally, I would have made Billy or the other guy deal with this shit while I was busy with my dirty daydreams, but the pretty strawberry blonde in the picture did something to my dick.
Maybe my star player was already a little hard from fantasizing about the beta from last night, but something about the woman’s photo had me standing at full attention, literally and figuratively, as I made my way to the car.
Billy pointed to the passenger rear door, directing me to her, and I rapped my knuckles on the window, pointing my finger down. Through the foggy glass, I could see her pouty cherry-colored lips moving.
“It’s broken,” she said, mouthing the words deliberately so I could read her lips and pointing to the hand crank. “It. Won’t. Roll. Down.”
“Ma’am, please step out of the car now,” I said in my most stern, Cade-like voice. He was always serious and pretty bossy too.
Fuck it. I wanted to see what her body looked like. Even if the window was working, I would have made her get out of the car anyway.
Billy told the rest of the passengers to stay in the car, and I watched as the petite woman in the backseat clearly fretted over what to do. Not that she had any option. I would happily drag her out of her seat if she refused to comply.
In fact, I’d enjoy it.
Maybe she’d run with nowhere to go, fueled purely by adrenaline and fear. I’d give her a little head start just to make it fun before chasing her down. My dick somehow grew even harder at that image.
Coming to the same conclusion that she had no other choice but to get out, she tugged at the door handle and carefully pushed it open.
Her legs swung out, and she stood in front of me, frustration, nerves, and anger etched on her face.
I cocked my head to the side, locking eyes with her, smirking at the mad little kitten openly glaring at me.
Then, suddenly, she dropped her gaze to her hands and began fiddling with a frayed thread on her shirt.
Her defiance vanished, replaced by complete submission.
Maybe I had imagined her glaring.
Her skin was so pale and smooth, stained with a few scattered freckles across her shoulders and cheeks.
She was so fair that I could see her chest was splotchy with red patches from nerves.
I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed her submission or defiance more, but one of them was an act, and I wasn't sure which.
She had piqued my interest.
I leaned in to scent her and was immediately hit with an overwhelming floral scent that had me reeling backwards. That was not what I imagined her to smell like.
Fuck, it was gross.
When I reeled back, I saw the red shade creep from her chest, up her neck, to her face. She was embarrassed, and any defiance she had shown earlier was completely gone.
“Sorry, sir. I know alphas are sensitive to smells, but my boyfriend just really loves this lotion,” she apologized.
Did she really have a boyfriend?
Was he in the car?
There was no reason to lie because even if she did, I didn’t care. Most of the beta bunnies I fucked had boyfriends. Still, a sliver of jealousy coursed through me at the thought of another man touching her. That was certainly unusual for me.
She stood there nervously, shifting her weight from side to side, unable to keep still.
“Is there a problem with my ID? Or is it a scanner issue like Billy said?” she questioned, glancing back at Billy, as if he was going to save her from me.
I liked the way she called me “sir.” The title sounded so serious. People called Cade “sir.” I would like to hear her call me that again while she begged for my cock. Her pouty lips would be perfect sliding up and down my shaft.
God, my dick was so hard right now. It was painfully erect, pushing at the confines of my zipper, begging to spring out and slip into her warmth.
I adjusted myself through my tented fatigues, and the motion caught her attention. She lifted her eyes briefly, noticing the bulge in my pants. Her mouth let out a soft little gasp, and her hands began fidgeting furiously with her shirt’s frayed string.
“Is everything okay with my ID?” she asked again, impatiently, with her eyes now downcast.
When I didn’t respond, her tongue darted out and swiped over her bottom lip, before teeth pulled that pouty lip into her mouth to chew on. She was so nervous.
Finally, I let out a deep laugh.
“Relax, Kitten! Rowan, Isabel, Miles.” I said, accenting each part of her name as I held the ID out for her to take back.
She grabbed it quickly, but I didn’t let go, smiling at her and holding it in place. We stood there for a moment until she pulled it, and I loosened my grip. She slipped the lanyard back onto her neck.
“The scanner’s fucked up. It needs a reboot, but that’s going to take a while. Billy says you’re in a band that plays at a bar in the city, and he’s scanned this ID plenty of times before without any problems. That true?”
“Yes, sir, that’s right.”
I liked the way she called me “sir” even more the second time she said it.
As attractive as she was, I wished she smelled as good as she looked. Scent mattered to alphas; it always had. Hers was overpowering, harsh, overly floral, and almost chemical. It repelled me, no matter how tempting her appearance was.
I tried to catch a trace of her natural scent beneath that awful lotion, but oddly, I couldn’t sense anything at all.
Sure, there were other scents on her skin, but I sifted through them, looking for a source, the scent that was uniquely hers.
Not even a hint. Even betas carried a scent.
Mosty subtle, but still present. Some of them even smelled surprisingly good.
But with her, there was just... nothing. And that unsettled me.
Why didn’t she have a natural smell?
Rowan’s body reminded me of an omega’s. She was small and delicate, yet undeniably alluring.
She barely reached five feet tall, even on tiptoes, but her frame was plush in all the right ways.
There was a gentle roundness to her, a soft belly, no sharp angles or hard lines.
She reminded me of the women captured in Renaissance paintings.
Strawberry blonde hair framed her face, highlighting her wide blue eyes and lips the color of ripe cherries, always caught in a subtle pout.
She was softness made flesh, all curves and quiet invitation.
“Are you going there tonight?” I asked.
“Going where, sir?”
Damn it. She needed to fucking stop calling me “sir,” but also, I never wanted her to stop. The word sounded too good in her mouth. I could think of other things that would be good in her mouth too.
“Rosie’s Bar?” I laughed, deadpanning my face. “The beta bar where you play with your band? Billy tells me you are on your way there now. You just told me that’s where you're going as well; were you lying?”
She wouldn’t look at me, but I wanted to see every flicker of emotion that crossed her face, so I gripped her jaw with my gloved hand and tilted her chin up. She made that little gasping noise again, and if it was even possible, her skin deepened to a darker shade of red.
Then I saw it.
Just for a second.
A fleeting, defiant expression moved across her features so fast I almost missed it.
“No, sir. I wasn’t lying. We’re on the way to Rosie’s right now,” she said with a bite in her words.
Kitten clearly didn’t like being touched.
I let go of her jaw, sliding my fingers down her neck ever so slightly. As I did, she dropped her head to a subservient position, but I watched as goosebumps blossomed across her body. Was her delicate skin sensitive along the column of her neck?
“Then I will reboot the scanner, and I will bring it to you tonight. So you don’t have to sit here and wait, of course.
” I said, watching as she continued chewing her lip, thinking about how to respond.
“Unless you want to sit here and wait. I’d be more than happy to have some company.
This rotation is sooooo boring. You can sit on my lap while we wait for it to reboot,” I offered, patting my thigh and grinning widely.
“No, sir, that’s okay! We have to set up for our set!” she blurted out, panic threading through her voice.
She was desperate to get away, clearly, but I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. I enjoyed watching her squirm, flushed and fidgeting, all that pale skin turning red under my gaze.
“Billy says your band is quite good. The band at The Rusty Tap always sucks. Plus, their lead singer has a dick, and I prefer pretty women,” I said, winking at her.
She gasped again. I liked this game. “I’ll scan your ID after you finish your set.
Don’t think about taking off until I scan it! Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I won't.”
She was still fiddling with the stupid string.
I wanted her big blue eyes on me though.
I pulled my knife from the holster on my thigh and in one smooth motion grabbed the hem of her shirt and sliced the long frayed string off.
That seemed to do the trick. I had her full attention.
Wide blue eyes, framed by soft lashes and a sharp flick of eyeliner, found mine.
Her lips parted in an “O” as she let out that gasp I’d already come to like far too much.
“You’re free to leave, Rowan,” I said, winking again and wiggling the string in front of her before tucking it into the front pocket of my tactical vest.
Quickly as she could, as though I might change my mind, she turned and slipped back into the car. I watched as she took a deep breath, tension draining from her, and leaned against the guy in the backseat, burying her cheek in his chest.
Wait a second!
Who the fuck is he?!
Is he the boyfriend she was talking about?
A surge of jealousy coursed through me, and I was about to open the door and tear her out of the car, but the engine turned over and the tires slowly started moving down the road as No-Name pushed the barricade aside.
I pulled out my phone and texted Talon.
Change of plans. Meet me at Rosie’s Bar tonight.