DIRTY ALPHAS Read online

  As I make my way across campus to my final class of the day—History of 20th Century Europe—I stop to send Nicki a text. I forced myself to focus on nothing but classes all morning. A few hours of nothing but simple, straightforward thoughts. All directed towards law. All the classes in my program are so damned involved that I couldn’t think about anything else even if I wanted to. If your mind wanders just for a couple of minutes during a lecture, you find yourself lost and unable to understand the rest of the stupid thing. I’m speaking from experience here.

  But now that I’m on my way to the auditorium on the opposite side of campus for my final class—an elective that Nicki and I took together—I know I need to smooth things over a little before I get there or this is gonna be one hell of an awkward hour.

  I text: Creep—Radiohead.

  I’m basically telling her that I acted like an asshole—or a creep—and I’m sorry. It doesn’t take her long to text back with: Forget it. See you soon.

  I sigh with relief. Lucky she’s so easygoing. She’s the last person I wanna be in a fight with. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut this morning. It wasn’t my business. But seeing Axel’s mark on her made me lose my shit.

  Why? It’s ridiculous. She can fool around with whoever she wants. It’s not my business. Unless she’s in trouble, then it becomes my business.

  The thoughts running through my head, making me insane last night, scared the shit out of me. And the fact that I said her name when I was balls deep in some other girl? In that moment, I wanted it to be Nicki instead. Shit, I’m messed up. My reaction to that hickey on her neck this morning was the wakeup call I needed, letting me know that I need to get a grip. This can’t happen. Nicki is off limits. Always off limits.

  The fallout if we get together could destroy the band. And I can’t have that. The band is everything to me and I won’t let anything happen to it.

  And let’s face it; Nicki being with me is a bad idea for her. I’m not exactly a gentleman. In all honesty, I’m an asshole. A player. And I could never treat Nicki like that. I don’t give a crap about the women I fuck. It’s just wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. And she deserves better than that. She’s a virgin. I’m pretty sure the furthest she’s ever gone is that kiss with Axel last night. She’s innocent. Really innocent. And she needs to stay like that.

  I take a deep breath, feeling much better now that I’ve worked through my crazed thoughts. Back to normal now. Last night was just a one-off mind-fuck of an experience.

  I push open the doors to the auditorium. It’s still pretty empty, because I’m ten minutes early for once. I easily spot Nicki sitting in the corner, right at the back. It’s her usual seat in every class—the most hidden position she can possibly find. The only time she’s comfortable being front and center is when we’re performing. Then she loses herself and gives in to the music; to the real her. The only time she truly opens up completely.

  I’m on my way up when I see him walk up to her.

  Axel-fucking-Craven.

  He says something to her and she laughs. She slides over one seat and he takes her former place in the corner. Right next to her. I amend my earlier statement: she can be with anyone except him. I hate that fucker. He’s the epitome of every negative aspect of the jock stereotype. And he’s the greatest cock-block to me. Every time he’s around, he gets in my way, tries to fuck me over and steal my pussy for the night.

  Is that why he’s hitting on Nicki; getting so attached to her? To get to me. No. Stop it. Even for me, that’s way too egotistical, verging on full-on egomaniac actually. Nah, it’s just a coincidence.

  “Let it go,” I murmur under my breath as I reach them. “Hey,” I say lightly to Nicki as I take a seat on her opposite side and pull out my notepad and pen.

  “Hey, how was your morning?” she asks, smiling sweetly at me.

  “The usual. Yours?”

  “Good. I went back to bed, nursed the hangover from last night and I feel a lot better now.”

  Right, because this 2pm class is her only one for today. She was smart when she made her class schedule this year. Only one class on Mondays. I, on the other hand, was a goddamn idiot. I’ve had back-to-back classes all day since 8am. And I’d woken up in her bed with one hell of a hangover too. I cured it with another beer. Desperate times, right?

  “Hey, man,” Axel greets me.

  I tense at the sound of his voice. I see Nicki looking at me nervously and I force myself to respond back with a nod. Best I can do, asshole. And more than you deserve.

  She smiles at me; a silent thank you. I notice that she’s wearing her denim jacket with the collar turned up—hiding the hickey he gave her. So she took my advice then? Good. She’s wearing a skirt with leather boots that stretch right up to her thighs. Oh God. I quickly look away. Axel, on the other hand, doesn’t. But his eyes are drawn to her perky little tits. I grit my teeth and begin counting to a ridiculously high number in my head just to prevent myself from doing something here. Don’t you dare look at her, you asshole!

  “John, did you know that Axel joined Jim’s boxing gym?” Nicki says suddenly.

  What the fuck? “He did, huh?” I say casually. “When?”

  “Today,” Axel answers with a victorious smile. “Your uncle’s a real nice guy.”

  “He can be,” I respond, coolly. “Nicki is his star. All the guys there watch her back. They’re very protective over her.”

  “John,” Nicki scolds me.

  Yeah, that warning was a bit heavy-handed, wasn’t it? But it’s true. My uncle and the guys at the gym treat her like a princess. Of course, she hates it, because she’s a tough little thing. She’s even argued her way into sparring with several of the guys from time to time. And she’s won every time. That’s how good she is. I spent my life at that boxing gym in high school. I was there pretty much every night at one point. My dad had encouraged it. He thought it was just what was needed to teach a young man discipline. And it was. Four years ago, after the awful night of the attack, I took Nicki there. She wanted to learn to defend herself; to fight. I thought it would help to rebuild her self-esteem after what that asshole of a stepdad did to her. Four years later, she’s still there every other day, between classes and the band. The band has taken up so much of my time that I’m only there once or twice a month now. But Nicki is obsessed.

  “Blake gave you a tour?” I ask Axel.

  Thanks to me, Blake has been a member of my uncle’s gym for a year now. He wanted somewhere to blow off some steam so I told him about it last year when we were partnered on a law assignment.

  “Yeah,” he answers.

  “You knew Nicki hung out there?” Of course he knew. He probably asked Blake about her after she took off last night.

  “Maybe,” he says to me, but winks at Nicki.

  She smiles shyly back at him.

  Argh!

  He lays his hand gently on her shoulder. Very gently and very unlike him. I hear him say softly, “I’m sorry I came on too strong last night. I had too much to drink. It won’t happen again, babe.”

  She’s not your babe!

  “It’s…don’t worry about it…I was a little drunk too.”

  He pulls out his cell and asks, “What’s your number?”

  Her eyes widen. “Uh…what…why?”

  He laughs. “So I can call you, of course.”

  “I…I don’t…date….”

  “Who said anything about a date? I’ll call you and we can go out. Just two friends having coffee, dinner, or whatever you feel like. No pressure. How does that sound?”

  “Uh…okay. Sure.”

  I hear her give him her number. Her real number.

  “Just friends…” Axel assures her. He pauses to glare at me. A triumphant smirk plays across his face as he adds, “…just like you and John.”

  Son of a bitch! I was right to begin with. He is going after her to get at me; to stick it to me with this frat vs. me rivalry that’s been going on for the last two ye
ars. Fuck!

  The only thing stopping me from lunging at him is Nicki between us. I don’t want her to get hurt in the crossfire. Before I can even respond, Professor Hill enters the room and the auditorium falls quiet as she begins:

  “Right, let’s pick up where we left off last class. The important factors in Mussolini’s rise to power in 1922….”

  “You okay?” Nicki leans in and whispers in my ear.

  “Fine,” I mutter as I dig my fingers into my seat in an effort to rein in my temper. “Fine, sweetheart,” I say, forcing a smile.

  She doesn’t look convinced, but she looks away and turns her attention to her notepad as Professor Hill’s lesson gets underway. She starts jotting down notes—her pen sliding across the page so damn quickly as she becomes absorbed in the lesson. Always the flawless student. I, on the other hand, don’t hear another word. I’m too concerned with watching Axel like a hawk, making sure he doesn’t touch her; listening to every word he whispers to her. Everything he says is about the class though. Odd. He’s an even crappier student than me. I know he’s just doing this for Nicki’s benefit. This is a play to him. He’s messing with her. And that means he’s messing with me. But there’s nothing I can do right now. We’re in class. And Nicki’s between us.

  Well played, asshole. Well played.

  You better watch your back though, cuz I’ll be watching you.

  Chapter 5

  ~John~

  “Where the fuck is she?” I thunder as I switch off the microphone.

  Mitch, Chloe and I have just run through two songs without Nicki. I’ve been singing and playing lead guitar cuz she’s late. She’s never late. She didn’t even bother to text me to say she wasn’t gonna make it on time. Apparently, she’s been texting Chloe though—every couple of minutes for the past half hour. That just pisses me off even more.

  “She’ll be here in five minutes. They’re just pulling up outside,” Chloe tells me.

  “They?” I snap.

  “Her and Axel,” Chloe responds excitedly.

  “What?” I fume. I catch Mitch’s eye and he smirks at me. He has the wrong idea cuz of the other night. “Fine,” I force myself to say casually, wanting to shut down his suspicions right away. I slide my guitar onto its stand. “Let’s take a break then.”

  The room we’re in used to be a dining room when Mitch and I first moved in. We’ve made it into our practice room. It’s soundproof now which avoids us having to deal with pissed off neighbors complaining about the noise. Noise, my ass. Awesome music is more like it. We dealt with so many complaints in the dorms last year, so this is a refreshing change.

  “Cool. I’ll get some pizza. Mitch, help me?” Chloe says.

  “You too much of a princess to carry a damn pizza box yourself, Chlo?” he teases.

  “Vegetarian it is, then,” she threatens as she opens the door and walks out.

  “Wait! Fine, I’ll go with you!” he calls, hurrying after her.

  The two of them leave and I look over the music of an unfinished song that Nicki and I were supposed to work on today. I’m so involved in what I’m reading and trying to figure out how to complete the lyric that I don’t even notice Nicki walking into the room until she says, “Hey.”

  I look up and snap, “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Down by the harbor front.”

  “With him?”

  “Yeah. Just hanging out.”

  “I see.” It comes out extremely bitter and harsh. So much for playing it cool. Shit.

  “What’s your problem?”

  I drop the sheet music and storm over to where she’s leaning against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. “My problem is that you’re late. Between classes and your time at the gym, every second the band can get together is precious. And you just blow it off for some asshole.”

  “Blow it off? I’m ten minutes late at the most, John.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter, brushing past her.

  She grips my arm, stopping me and forcing me to turn back to her. “This is about me and Axel, isn’t it? Funny, considering all the girls I see coming out of here. And last night was no exception. You stank of Chanel perfume when you came over. But I never said anything, because that’s your business. For some reason, you can’t extend me the same courtesy. Why?”

  I scoff. “This isn’t about your boyfriend. This is about the band, Nicki.” Like fuck it is. But it’s my only defense here; she knows me too well.

  She laughs. “Boyfriend? Not even close, John.”

  “He’s trying to get into your pants, Nicki,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

  “Maybe he is. But he won’t.”

  “He’s gonna seduce you and before you know it, you’ll be spreading your legs for him like the dirty little girl he wants you to be.”

  She winces at my words. “Shut up.”

  Of course. I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle that. “You deserve better. He’s not what you need.”

  “And you know what I need?” she demands harshly.

  I just react and before I realize what I’m doing, I grip her arms and push her against the wall as I tell her, “You need a guy who will take his time with you. Someone you can actually kiss sober. A guy who knows you and understands he needs to build you up slowly so you forget the past—your fears and anxieties—and let go until all you can do is feel. Feel his hands, his mouth, and his tongue exploring every part of you. A guy who takes you right to the edge and back.” My fingers brush the hickey on her neck. “A guy who knows you’re not ready for rough…” I touch her lips gently, “…who doesn’t bruise these beautiful lips with a harsh kiss, but slows down to revel in the taste of you, the way you move against him, the little moans you’ll make in his ear as he pleases you.”

  My heart is thundering so violently in my chest that I’m sure she can hear it. I release her arms and notice that my hands are shaking. The realization of what I just said to her scares the shit out of me.

  I take a step back. “Nicki, I’m sorry. I—”

  But then her lips are on mine. I’m so shocked that I don’t do a damned thing. I just stand there like a fucking limp dick moron. She misreads my reaction and moves away, blushing from embarrassment.

  “Uh,” she breathes. “Sorry.”

  She makes a move to the door, but I cut her off. Standing in front of her, I stare at her. She’s fiddling nervously with her hair, not knowing what to do, where to look. I take a deep breath and then I do the very thing I’ve resisted for the last four years.

  I cup her face and press my lips to hers.

  I kiss her softly, slowly and she makes the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. I feel her kiss me back as my hands slip under her shirt and slide up her back. I reach her bra clasp and the animal in me—or the guy in me—wants desperately to unclasp it, to feel her perky little tits in my hands, in my mouth. But I stop myself. This is Nicki, not some random chick.

  I ease her back against the wall. I pull back and slide my tongue along her jaw line, down her neck, her collarbone, to the tops of her tits. She makes a sexy purring sound. And then her fingers are in my hair, tugging, urging my mouth back to hers. Her lips part, granting me access. My tongue plunges into her mouth.

  As soon as I taste her, I lose control, ravaging her mouth, claiming every part of her. My fingers dig into her hips, jerking her tightly to me as I roll my hips, grinding my hard dick against her. She whimpers into my mouth and claws at my neck.

  And then she suddenly pushes me back.

  Before I can figure out what and why, the apartment door flies open and Chloe and Mitch stride on in arguing loudly, as they carry three pizza boxes to the kitchen.

  “I heard their voices in the hall,” Nicki tells me.

  “Oh.” So that’s why she pushed me away.

  “Guys! You coming or what?” Mitch calls from the kitchen.

  Nicki starts
for the kitchen but I grab her arm and pull her into me. I whisper in her ear, “You taste so good.”

  She trembles at my words and can’t look at me. I release her, smiling with amusement, and watch as she hurries into the kitchen. Damn, that ass of hers looks amazing in those jeans. Hell, it looks amazing no matter what.

  I take a moment to calm down and adjust the hard-on straining against my jeans. And then I make my way into the kitchen. The three of them are already devouring the pizza in the open boxes on the table. I grab a slice of pepperoni and lean back against the kitchen counter, my eyes fixed on Nicki and that mouth of hers.

  She catches my eye. I give her a sly wink and she looks away shyly. So damn cute.

  As the three of them start chatting away, I munch on my pizza and pull out my phone from my pocket and text Nicki: Pour Some Sugar On Me–Def Leppard.

  A second later I hear her phone chime. She pulls it out of her pocket and reads my text. Her gaze snaps to mine, her eyes wide. I cock an eyebrow in a challenge.

  But before she can text me back, Mitch asks, “Sexting with Axel, Nicki?”

  I cringe at his words. If that isn’t a mood killer, I don’t know what is.

  Nicki avoids my gaze as she answers, “I barely know him. What do you take me for?”

  Chloe laughs and tells her, “That’s what dates are for—getting to know the guy.”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “What happened on this not-a-date? What did you guys do?” Chloe presses.

  “We just walked down by the harbor front. Ate ice-cream. Talked.”

  “Sounds like a date to me,” Mitch says.

  Before I can stop myself I discreetly kick his chair. He almost chokes on his pizza and then flashes me a look of what the fuck? I just continue to glare at him and he gets the message. He clears his throat and says, “Nah, it wasn’t a date.”

  “What? You just agreed that it was,” Chloe questions, eyeing him over her slice of pizza.

  “Axel doesn’t do dates. He’s a caveman. He hits on a girl, throws her over his shoulder and carries her up to his bedroom to fuck her.”

  Nice.

  “You’re wrong. A couple of the girls in my sorority have dated him. And I mean an actual date. Dinner and a movie and everything.”