Chapter 16 #2
Everyone applauds, and soon enough, we follow Roman and Wolf down to the river. They’re carrying their axes over their shoulders farther ahead of us. Roman glances back once, not at the guests, but at me with a sly grin.
Soon, we’re at the river that glints green in the sunlight. The pair set their axes down at the bank and start taking their shirts off over their heads.
Steph fakes fainting, and her friends catch her, yet all their eyes are bulging out at the delicious sight of all those muscles. These Alphas are big.
That green beast inside my chest growls, Mine.
This is all new to me, and I’m trying to avoid being appalled at myself until later when I’m alone.
By the river, Roman and Wolf crouch and use their hands to pour water over their heads and necks. Then they’re on their feet, dragging their wet palms down their chests.
I need to turn away and pinch my lips to stop myself from howling.
I assumed Ethan had made them agree to this program, but according to Grayson’s earlier comment, they’ve done this package before for guests. And that means, Grandma developed the concept. She sat down and added a river-washing scene for these lumberjacks.
How am I supposed to ever sit down through Sunday dinner with that woman again?
“Right!” Grayson whistles. “In the mood for lunch cooked over an open fire and a chance to speak with our stars today?”
Yep, the crowd goes wild.
Wolf and Roman collect their shirts and axes, then stroll downriver, with the rest of us following.
Grayson’s at my side, and we follow the group at least ten feet away. “If we slipped into the woods right now, nobody would even notice.”
“And why would we do that?” I tease.
“Why are you torturing me?”
I bat my eyes at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
His hand slides across my lower back, and inches lower, where I swat him away. “You’ll survive.”
“I really won’t.” He places a hand to his heart. “I might die.”
“I’ll arrange a closed casket then?” I stare at him over my shoulder, smiling a bit too widely.
“I want it open,” he demands. “So everyone can see what you do to me.” Then he’s staring down at his groin and at me with raised eyebrows.
I’m giggling too hard, and keep strolling forward.
The rest of the day becomes one long blur of lumberjacks, muscles, and squealing women.
I do find it entertaining, having watched Grayson cook over coals, Wolf answering everyone’s questions, and Roman teaching the ladies how to tell a spruce from a fir.
Then the Champagne comes out of the picnic baskets.
As part of their tour, the guests have all signed waivers and know exactly where the men have been. Grandma ensured that there are no secrets kept in the business. Regardless, the women are completely wild about the three lumberjacks. And I don’t blame them.
By the time we’re back at the lodge, the sunlight has dipped, and the women gather around the fireplace with drinks, chatting and laughing. Grayson and Roman get things ready for dinner. All while Wolf brings in wood for the fireplace.
Finally, I sink into a chair and just breathe. The three Alphas are running the whole package, and I couldn’t be happier. Dinner’s handled, the fire’s roaring, and everyone’s happy. A girl could easily get used to this.
A sudden knock comes from the front door. Up on my feet, cross the main room and answer it. I pull the door open and instantly flinch back.
A man towers in the doorway, bag in one hand, a portable speaker beneath an arm. And he’s wearing a full-head black skull mask that disappears beneath the collar of his shirt. It appears almost molded over his head and neck. While black fabric conceals his eyes.
Okay, I hadn’t expected that.
For a long second, I stare at him. “Oh…”
“I’m the booked stripper,” he states through the mask. “For the bachelorette party.”
His voice is almost lost in the women’s giggling behind me. “Right. Of course.” I nod as my brain catches up. “Sorry, I was just expecting a police officer, based on the booking.”
“He got double-booked.” He adjusts the speaker under his arm. “Figured you might enjoy the dark, dangerous stalker instead.”
I blink at him, then laugh. “Sure. Why not? The guests will love you.”
I step aside, and he marches inside. The moment he enters the room, the women lose their shit all over again.
He wastes no time setting up his speaker on the coffee table we pushed out from between the long couches. He studies the space he has available to perform, and after a few seconds, he clicks on his music. He steps forward, and the women are hooting for him.
Wolf presses a shoulder against the wall next to me and folds his arms across his chest. “This should be fun.”
The mask stays on as the stripper’s clothes begin disappearing, piece by piece.
The jacket is shouldered off and thrown straight into Debbie’s lap.
Next, the shirt, and he takes his time with the buttons.
The women are throwing bills and screaming for more while he rolls his hips and reaches for his belt.
I’m laughing at the entertainment.
He unfastens his pants, drags them slowly over his hips all while bending over, and just as they hit the floor, a huge hand locks over my eyes.
“No,” Wolf says in my ear. “That’s not for you.”
I swat at his arm, giggling. “Excuse me. Someone has to watch.”
“That’s what your ears are for. As long as they are hollering and laughing, you know it’s fine.”
“You’re being jealous.” I manage to pry his fingers away and peek around him, as he’s now standing in front of me. “I mean, the guy’s okay. Decent arms. Nothing you’d brag about.”
Wolf’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s okay?” His expression is extremely entertaining.
“Yep, but Roman’s got better shoulders. Grayson wins on arms. And you…” I lower my gaze gradually down Wolf’s body. “You could throw that man across the room.”
Wolf grins slowly. “Fascinating how you skipped over the part I’d win by a fucking landslide.”
My lack of control ruins me as my gaze drops straight to his groin.
His expression morphs into something completely filthy. “Oh yeah. You got it now.”
Heat flares over my face. “No one said you won.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t have to.”
“You look so pleased with yourself.” I roll my eyes.
The corners of his mouth curve upward. “So you have been comparing us.”
I open my mouth to argue, except he’s absolutely right, and close it again.
Wolf grins. “Best bachelorette party ever.”
I glance over to the stripper who is down to a gold thong. He’s rocking his hips, and several women are up on their feet.
“You should see my moves,” Wolf whispers.
“Would love to.”
His steel-gray eyes linger on me longer than a normal person would stare. “Upstairs, later. I’ll show you.” He pauses. “Then you can show me yours.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not agreeing to some crazy dance challenge.”
In the middle of the room, the stripper turns slowly toward the couches, and women howl.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Wolf whispers in my ear. “Is it the mask that’s doing it for you?”
“I mean, it’s interesting.”
“Did you know, I own a mask,” he says at once. “I’ll wear it for you. Let’s make it the middle of the night with no warning. Or I carry you over my shoulder, and you never see my face.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “That’s a crime, Wolf.”
He’s grinning. “Does that make you hotter for me?”
I find myself just staring, struggling to find my words, and that’s my whole problem. Secretly, I think I want everything he promises.
“Good to know,” he states, enjoying himself too much.
The stripper continues into another two songs until his show finally completes. Grayson calls everybody through for dinner, and the guests follow him, still speaking loudly, and the noise floods the main room.
The stripper pulls on his pants and packs his stuff, while I grab his envelope off the hall table and follow him out.
The porch and path lamps is on outside, and there’s a motorcycle in the driveway. A cold chill rushes up my arm from the breeze, and somewhere in the woods, an owl hoots.
He straps his bag to the rack and pulls a shirt over his head. The mask remains.
“Thanks so much,” I say, holding the envelope out. “They enjoyed the night so much.”
He strides toward me fast, and my back finds the porch rail. He stands so close that his shadow engulfs me, and I’m uncomfortable all of a sudden.
The guy tips his head down toward me, breaths pumping out fast.
“All right.” I shove a hand up between us, and goosebumps cover my arms. “Hey, back off. I’m not one of your fans.”
He doesn’t move away. Then a low growl rolls from his throat, and the hair rises on my nape.
“I knew Jerry, your first Alpha,” he sneers.
I can’t move, can’t breathe.
The man studies me, the silence between us feeling far more sinister. “And he’d be fucking broken now if he could see you with those men,” he adds. “Didn’t take you long to move the fuck on, did it?”