DIRTY ALPHAS Page 8

  “Good boy,” I growl.

  Now it’s my turn, fuckers!

  I kick him back, roll to my side and flip myself to my feet. I lunge at him, my fist plunging into his beer gut. He doubles over instantly. I jerk him down by his shoulders and smash my knee into his face. He cries out and I shove him hard. He collapses to the floor.

  I wait a few seconds to make sure he’s not gonna get up and then I stagger over to Axel. I weave my fingers in his hair and ready my right fist. His eyes meet mine and I see the naked fear there. True fear that I’ve only seen once before.

  Nicki. That night when that bastard attacked her.

  Flashes of what I did to him hit me hard. Argh!

  I release Axel and step back.

  “You’re not gonna finish it?”

  I turn my back and call over my shoulder, “It’s already finished. Don’t come at me again.”

  I force myself to walk upright and as steady as possible until I’m out of sight and through the door to the parking lot entrance to the elevators.

  And then I collapse. Fuck, every part of me is burning in agony. It’s been too long since I’ve been in a fight.

  My hands are shaking from adrenaline as I reach into my jacket pocket to pull out my cell phone. When I finally manage it, I speed dial Mitch.

  It picks up on the first ring and I speak before he can get a word in. “Elevators. Parking level. Now.”

  “John? What’s wrong? You okay?”

  “Just…get here.”

  I hang up, stow my phone away and push myself off the floor so I’m sitting and leaning against the wall for support as I struggle to catch my breath.

  Shit, I should probably cut back on my smoking.

  Chapter 16

  ~John~

  “Dude, you sure you don’t wanna go to a hospital?” Mitch asks me as he dabs a cue tip soaked in disinfectant at the cut under my right eye.

  “And tell them what when they start asking questions?”

  “That three frat guys attacked you in the parking lot.”

  “And when they ask why they did it? Should I tell the cops I lost my temper at my uncle’s gym and attacked, Axel? No, man. I can’t.”

  “All right. It’s just…I’m not the best at this. You want me to call Jim?”

  I look down at myself. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I can barely see because my right eye is closed up from swelling. My shins are scraped to shreds and a series of Band-Aids are stuck to them thanks to Mitch. They weren’t really necessary, because they would’ve healed fine, but he’s doing me a major favor so I kept my mouth shut. I see the blood staining my chest, most of it from my mouth and face, and a couple of grazes on my pecs from the fall I took at the beginning of the attack. My wrists suffered similar damage. My knuckles are shredded from dealing out so many bare-knuckle hits. They’re wrapped with gauze now. I know they won’t take that long to heal. Aside from my face, my abs took the worst of it. They’re way beyond black and blue. Purple is more like it.

  “Nah. I don’t want this shit getting back to my dad.” I already had my ass kicked tonight. The last thing I want is my dad finding out about this and having a reason to give it another kick. Yeah, he’d fucking love that. Not gonna give him the satisfaction. I lean back against my chair and blow out a tired breath. “Look, I can take care of the rest myself if it’s grossing you out. Don’t worry about it.”

  Mitch scoffs. “Grossing me out? Nah, man. You know this isn’t my first rodeo. I just don’t wanna make anything worse.”

  “Not possible.”

  “All right.” He presses a Band-Aid over the cut under my eye, grinning at me because he knows I hate them all over me. He pulls back and studies the rest of my face for a second. And then he says, “That’s as good as it’s gonna get. You want more ice for your cheek?”

  I shake my head. “It won’t make a difference. That bag of peas did all it was gonna do.”

  I grip the sides of my chair and try to lift myself out of it until I realize I can’t actually manage it. Argh! Mitch rushes to me and clamps his hands down on my shoulders, forcing me to stay where I am.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I need a smoke and a beer.”

  “Stay there.”

  Amused, I just smile. I watch as he snatches up my jacket hanging on the chair at the other end of the kitchen table. He fumbles around in the pockets for a while before finally pulling out my lighter and a pack of smokes. He slides out a cigarette and lights it.

  “Here,” he says, handing it to me.

  I take it with a shaking hand—my body hasn’t come down from the huge adrenaline rush of the fight—and I struggle to get it in my mouth.

  He snatches it back and tells me, “Open.”

  I burst out laughing, which my abs hate me for and it ends up coming out as more of a sputter. “Is that what you say to all the girls, Mitch?” I tease. “You know, before you shove your dick down their throats?”

  “Fuck you and just do it.”

  I do as he asks and he slides the smoke between my lips. Shit, I’m glad no one else is here to witness this. I take a long, hard drag. I wave him away, telling him I’m good now. He crosses to the fridge and returns with a couple of beers. He pulls off the cap for me and pushes it right to the edge of the table so I don’t have to reach far. “Thanks, man,” I say as I pull the smoke out of my mouth, but not all the way in case I can’t put it back in again.

  “What do you wanna do about your ribs?”

  “There’s nothing to do. They’ll heal on their own.”

  “Are you sure they’re not broken, cuz the way they look…well, they look bad, John.”

  “It’s just bruising. Always looks worse than it is.”

  We sit in silence for a while as I finish my smoke. When I’m done, he takes what’s left from me and slides the butt into his empty beer bottle. He sits back down and reaches for his cell phone as I take a sip of my beer.

  “Who you calling?”

  “Nicki.”

  “Hang up!” I snap. “Now.”

  “Okay, man. Relax. She’d want to be here for you right now. And I thought you wanted to show her what kind of an asshole Axel really is?” He gestures at me and says. “And this is all the evidence you need. More evidence than you need.”

  “There’ll be another time for all that.”

  “John—”

  “Look, she can’t see me like this. You hear me?”

  His eyes narrow with suspicion and he asks, “Why not?”

  I look away and drink some of my beer.

  “John? You’re gonna tell me. And let’s face it, you can’t exactly get up and walk away right now as you normally do when you don’t like where a conversation is going.”

  Dammit. He’s right. It’s not my business to tell. It’s Nicki’s. But I have to tell him something to both get him off my back and to convince him not to call her.

  “There’s stuff in her past. Stuff that isn’t mine to tell. And seeing me beaten and bloody like this will bring it all up. I don’t want that. Understand?”

  I see the surprise in his eyes. And then something that looks like realization. “She was abused,” he says. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it all this time. It makes sense. She hates people touching her. She’s never dated—not that I’ve seen anyway. She’s shy around guys she doesn’t know. That’s heavy.”

  “There isn’t a word for what happened to her, Mitch.”

  I can’t stop the emotion welling up inside me at the thought of Nicki hurting like that. It takes a lot for me to get a grip.

  “You were there?”

  “For the last time.”

  “You stopped it?”

  We lock eyes and I tell him, “I almost killed him.”

  “Fuck,” he breathes, leaning back against his chair with a heavy sigh. “Fucking hell.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  A few seconds of tense silence pass between us and
then he asks me, “So you almost killed him? How did you get away with that one?”

  “I had a good lawyer.”

  He smiles as he realizes, “Your dad.”

  I nod.

  Everyone knows my dad. To say he’s famous would be an understatement. He’s the best damn criminal lawyer around. And I respect that. But the man can be a stubborn piece of work. I guess I inherited that. He’s determined to make me follow in his footsteps. He hates the band and my music. He hates my tattoos; everything about the rock lifestyle. Although, he likes Nicki’s little phoenix. What’s that about?

  Nicki can do no wrong around my parents. They love her. She lived with us for a while and my parents basically unofficially adopted her. They’ve been trying to push us together forever. If they knew what had been happening between us lately, they’d be on my back 24/7 talking wedding plans and kids and all that bullshit.

  Mitch snaps his fingers in my face, shocking me back to reality. It’s then that I realize he’s struggling to lift me out of my chair.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m putting you to bed.”

  We make it out of the chair and slowly, very slowly, make our way out of the kitchen.

  “Are you gonna tuck me in too?”

  He laughs. “What I am gonna do is force a couple of painkillers down your throat.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I wasn’t giving you the option.”

  I sigh tiredly. “Fine. But if I wake up late tomorrow for class, it’s on you.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until you can walk on your own. I’ll speak to your professors. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.”

  “Dude, it’s bad.”

  Maybe it is, because as we walk to my bedroom, all I feel is burning. Everywhere. Every part of me hurts. But I’m not about to admit it to him—or anyone. I’m not a pussy. I can take a beating. Although, taking on three guys is a little excessive. It’ll be fine. I’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be fine. I’ll go to class, do what I normally do.

  Right now I just need to sleep. Real bad.

  Chapter 17

  ~Nicki~

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I skip out of the Psychology building. And yes, I mean, literally skip. I’m flying high on the knowledge that I’ve just handed in my final assignment for this semester. The next few weeks are gonna be a breeze.

  “Yes!” I exclaim out loud.

  “You’re in a good mood,” a familiar voice comes from behind me.

  I spin around to see Axel walking out of the building towards me.

  “Hey,” I greet him.

  “Hey yourself. I take it you just handed in the assignment?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Barely a second ago. What a load off.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say.

  He grins, clearly enjoying my carefree, upbeat mood. “May I?” he asks, moving closer.

  I nod and he leans in and kisses me softly on my right cheek. His arms wrap around me and he gazes into my eyes with a faraway look of longing. “I want you, Nicki,” he breathes in my ear.

  My defenses kick in and I start to pull away, but he holds fast. “Axel,” I protest.

  “Relax. I’m not gonna do anything. But I want you to.”

  “What?”

  He traces my jawline with his thumb. He’s gentle for once. Different. What is this?

  “After the other night I realized I’ve been too rough with you. I want to take my time with you.” He moves his thumb to my lips and brushes them ever so softly. “And I figured the best way to do that is to let you take the lead.”

  Huh. Well this is a bit of a curveball. I really didn’t expect this. Take the lead? Maybe that’s the solution. Maybe I won’t freak out if I’m in control.

  I look up at him and see that primal look I saw a few days ago at the frat house. It freaks me out. It seems so wild, so uncontrollable. But he just told me that he wants me to take control.

  Ignoring the warning bells in my head, I grip his shirt and push him against the wall. To my surprise, he grunts. I look up at him in question.

  “Just a little sore. Me and the guys were playing football a couple of days ago.”

  “Aww,” I say, reaching under his shirt and tracing my fingers lightly over his naked chest. “Poor you. Do you want me to stop touching you?” I tease.

  “Oh fuck, you’d better not. What you’re doing feels so damn good, babe.”

  My hands still under his shirt, I stretch onto my tiptoes and plant my lips on his, kissing him hard, just like he always kisses me. He moans as my tongue plunges into his mouth. I lose myself to it, forcing away the warning still chiming in my head.

  Our kiss becomes wild, ferocious. So much so that it takes me a moment to realize that his hands are on me. He breaks my grip on his chest as he slides both his hands down my body, from my neck, to my boobs, down to my stomach, until one is gripping my right hip and the other is between my legs, stroking me through my jeans. His touch is rough and frenzied but I force myself not to pull away.

  He breaks our kiss and growls, “More?”

  His eyes gesture to his hand between my legs.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  He smirks and something I can’t place flashes in his eyes.

  I feel his hand slip into my jeans, under my panties. A single finger delves between my pussy lips, rubbing up and down. Up and down.

  “Oh, babe. You’re drenched,” he whispers in my ear.

  I barely hear him. I’m so possessed by the feel of his finger stroking my bare pussy. I moan loudly and writhe against him.

  “That’s right. Good girl. You want more?”

  I look up at him through dazed eyes and all I can do is nod.

  He thrusts his finger inside me suddenly. I scream and he clamps his hand over my mouth.

  “Shh. Don’t make a sound, dirty girl. We’re in public. Anyone could see. But you don’t care, do you? You fucking love it. Love my hand inside your wet panties, finger fucking you senseless. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me, Nicki,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I…yes,” I struggle to utter. I’m lost to the sensations he’s triggering in me. I can’t think. I can barely breathe. It’s so intense. I’m right on the edge. I know I’m gonna come soon. I whimper into his mouth as my breathing becomes ragged and uncontrollable.

  He grabs my hand and presses it to his dick. “Unzip me,” he commands.

  I hesitate and he steps up his assault on my pussy, zoning in on my clit. It drives me crazy—beyond crazy—and I find myself fumbling for his belt.

  “Nicki!” someone yells from behind me.

  The sudden interruption and the irate tone jolts me back to reality. I pull Axel’s hand out of my panties and spin around hastily.

  It’s Mitch. He’s standing there, his arms folded across his chest. He looks pissed. But not at me. No, he’s shooting daggers at Axel.

  “I’ll take you back to your apartment,” he says, holding out his hand to me.

  “We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Mitch. She’ll head home when she feels like it. She doesn’t need a fucking bodyguard,” Axel tells him.

  “From what I’m seeing, it looks like she does, asshole.” Mitch steps forward and grabs my hand. “Let’s go.” As he pulls me away, Axel takes a threatening step towards him.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him as I see a dangerous, menacing look flash in his eyes.

  His eyes lock with mine for a moment. And then he steps back. “Nothing. I’ll see you later, babe. Come by around eight. The frat house is throwing a party tonight.”

  Before I can answer, he takes off without looking back.

  “You okay?” Mitch asks, studying me worriedly.

  “I…uh…yeah,” I murmur. Oh my God. I completely lost control then with Axel. The way he touched me, his words. I couldn’t think. What the hell was I doing? I just le
t him finger me in public up against the psychology building. “Shit. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing,” Mitch says.

  I didn’t realize I’d actually said that out loud. I can feel my cheeks burning from embarrassment. Oh, this is awful.

  “He was manipulating you, Nicki.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

  “He was. Sensory overload?”

  Sensory overload? Yes, that’s exactly what it felt like. Was Axel really manipulating me, or is Mitch exaggerating? I mean, he didn’t force himself on me. He left the decision in my hands.

  I mull it over for the rest of our journey back to the apartment. I’m barely even aware of getting in the cab, or of it pulling up outside our building.

  “Nicki, you okay?” Mitch asks from beside me as we walk down the corridor towards our apartments.

  “What?”

  “You’ve been out of it since we left campus. Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking. I’m fine.” My gaze falls to the bag in his hand. It’s from the campus pharmacy. “You’re sick?”

  He shakes his head. “John. He hasn’t been feeling well.”

  I peer into the bag. “Anti-inflammatory medication….gauze…disinfectant.” My eyes snap to his. “What the hell is going on?”

  “The gauze and disinfectant is for me. I scraped my leg.”

  “Really?” I press, completely unconvinced.

  “Yeah. It’s a long story. Involves a threesome and my bedside table.” His eyes bore into mine and I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to unnerve me by talking about his sex life.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “And the anti-inflammatory stuff? That’s for John?”

  “Yeah. He’s got some sort of flu. They’re for his throat. It’s all swollen and stuff.”