7 Degrees of Alpha (a collection of seven new BWWM, Alpha Male Romances) (56 page)

Chapter Two

Craig Smart had heard the car door slam a few minutes before and headed to his window to investigate. He was a bit surprised. In the two years since he’d retired, it had been rare for there to be rentals during the month of November. Typically, the last of the cabin rentals occurred in early October. By November, the school year was in full swing, the holidays were nearing, and most families weren’t headed this far out for a long weekend.

He had watched the petite woman unload the car before she went inside. He decided to take his motor boat across the lake the next morning and introduce himself. He hoped he wouldn’t scare her. She wasn’t very big, and it was pretty isolated out here. He looked exactly like what he was, a retired military police officer. He was big, hard, and mean. He had spent close to twenty-five years wrangling some of the toughest, best trained soldiers in the world. Sometimes they were just a little drunk and a lot rowdy, not a big deal. Other times they were mean and violent and difficult as hell.  Soldiers didn’t take being arrested any better than their civilian counterparts did, and sometimes he had been forced to make his point violently. He could cuff them and walk them to the MP car or he could bust heads and toss them over his shoulder. Either way, they were going to the stockade.

He had to bend his knees a little bit to see out of the window. He was taller than the glass. He had been two inches over six feet since he was seventeen, and was used to having to duck.

He took a sip of his beer as he reflected on what seemed like a gift from the universe. Not even an hour ago, he’d been thinking it might be time for a trip to the nearest bar; it was time to get knee deep into some pussy. He didn’t have the patience for relationships and he was pretty disciplined about his sex life. Still, even a man with great self-control sometimes needed to let loose. Right across the lake it seemed like a tiny package of flexible sexiness had taken up residence. No one came up on a Wednesday unless they were taking a long weekend. Maybe she was in just as much need for some relaxing, relating, and releasing as he was.

He finished the beer and headed to his bathroom to do some manscaping, already planning his approach. 

He was lost in thought and barely registered the local news radio station as it gave its daily tally. Apparently, some starlet had given birth and named yet another kid something useless. Some actor got arrested. Some politician was caught lying.  A pet dog was returned.  A meth lab was busted. An unidentified body was found at a dump. Craig paid scant attention.  It was all the same as the day before, murder and mayhem the theme, foolishness and fuckery the sub theme.

Craig hopped in the shower. Water battered his muscular frame and his tattoos reflected in the mirror that he kept in the stall. He trimmed up his goatee, shaved his cock and balls, and washed his dark brown hair.  He wasn’t a playboy, but he was no fool either.  A man with a thick neck, huge hands and arms like boulders needed to look a little less bear-like when approaching women. It put them at ease. When his facial hair was shaggy, he looked more intimidating than was absolutely necessary. That might work in film and on television, but most women in real life were put off when a man looked like a big hungry bear—even if he was a green-eyed bear with eyelashes so long they made women everywhere jealous.

He preferred to air dry, so after exiting the shower, he walked through the darkened cabin to his main room and sat on the couch with another beer and looked out the window across the lake.

He wondered who she was and what she was doing here. He also wondered if she preferred to be on the bottom or the top. While wondering, he massaged CB until he had worked himself up into a hard-on that had surprised more than one woman with its impressive appearance.  It was long, tan, and fat; just what a girl wanted if she was on vacation and looking to act
bad
.

He looked across the lake at her rented cabin and wondered if she was in the mood for acting bad.

Chapter Three

Chris

Anthony, Melvin and Chris were feeling a bit stressed. They had just missed being caught up in a drug bust. The three of them had been sent out to procure more chemicals for the meth lab they operated with two other guys they’d known since junior high. On one hand, they were feeling pretty lucky to have avoided being arrested. But on the other hand, they were concerned whether or not their pals would think they had set them up for the cops.  The other more pressing problem was that they had a SUV packed with enough chemicals to start a small lab.  They had driven past the flashing lights of cops’ cruisers and seen everything in the house being carted out earlier.  Wisely, they kept driving.

Melvin, true to form, had picked up a case of beer when they stopped for gas hours earlier. He had merely given Anthony the side eye when he said, “Don’t get fucked up. You can’t cook when you’re drunk.”

Chris had murmured something from the back seat that sounded suspiciously like, “If he does, I’ll slap his shit-for-brains ass sober.”

Melvin ignored them both, and for the remainder of the trip had opened one can after another.

“Where are you going, anyway?” Chris asked Anthony as he noticed him peering through the windshield into the darkness.

“I’m looking for the lake we used to go to in high school,” Anthony said.

“You’re taking us somewhere crawling with tourists, man!” Chris shouted.

“Hell no! There won’t be anyone there in November,” Anthony replied.  “What do you think I am? A dumb ass?”

Chris wisely kept his opinion concerning Anthony’s intellect to himself. He knew the situation was highly volatile, and the last thing they needed to be doing was to be fighting.  Melvin was enough dead weight to be carrying. They probably would have dumped him if he wasn’t the chemist of the group.  Mel couldn’t handle stress. In the event of their arrests, Mel would sing like a platinum-selling pop star. They might escape this hell yet. They wouldn’t if they got to arguing, though.

Anthony

Anthony was tired.  It had been years since he had traveled with his family to this particular lake. That had been in his old life when his parents had not given up on him, his sisters still spoke to him, and his grades were good. His life was orderly back then. None of that mattered right now, though. He had to remember where this place was; he needed to rest and there was no way he would let Chris drive. He had a lead foot, and Melvin would surely crash and kill them all because he had gone far past what would be considered buzzed. He had to get them to the lake house. There would likely be no key under the mat, but he could always force open a back window.  There was no real expectation of crime this far out, and the cabins were pretty basic. All they probably had worth stealing were televisions. This place was designed for people who wanted to unplug. There weren’t a lot of pawn shops worthy of bells and whistles around.

Just before two in the morning, he found the narrow and dark side road. It was just in time too because he had started nodding at the wheel.

He drove to the far end of the lake, lights off, radio silent.  After parking in the rear, he quietly woke Chris. “We’re here.”

“Really? Finally?” Chris said in a low voice, thick with sleep.

“Yeah. We need to get this drunk bastard out of the car and we can’t have him stumbling around, mumbling and making noise. Sound carries out here due to the water,” he explained.

“I thought you said no one would be out here.”

“I don’t think anyone is, but it’s pitch black out here. I can’t see a motherfucking thing! We will have to wait until the morning to be sure.”

Chris saw the reasoning in that argument, so he set about helping Anthony get Melvin out of the car. Melvin had actually passed out, so moving him was a chore. Anthony made short work of the door lock at the rear entrance. They shuffled inside with their drunken chemist and dropped him into the recliner.

Half an hour later, everything had been removed from the SUV. Ant and Chris divvied up blankets, did rock, paper, scissors to see who would get the bed, and crashed. Both of them drifted into sleep with furrowed brows, stressed.

*****

Time passed. The night was troubled.

Anthony was contemplating driving off first thing in the morning with Chris and leaving Melvin.

Chris was wondering if he was going to have to kill somebody. He wasn’t going to jail.  One miserable stint was enough.  He would be damned if he let Melvin get him caught or Anthony sneak off. They’d better recognize. It was about to be all for one and one for all.  If not, two dead for one free suited him just fine.

The day’s events had completely wrecked them. Tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what to do with their chemicals, how to rescue their comrades without getting themselves arrested, and where they were going next.  Details were beyond what they could handle at the moment.  It was enough that they weren’t in jail awaiting arraignment on felony charges.  Their sleep was wretched and marked by mutterings and jerky movements as if running.  Except for Melvin.  He slept like a drunken sailor with deep snores punctuated by occasional farts. The negative energy of their dreams was powerful and wide.

The late night crept to early morning. Two cabins were occupied by people dreaming about skin and pleasure. Their heated energy meeting across the lake created frenzied dreams of sex which somehow seemed dangerous.  Serenity was unsettled. Craig’s inner sixth sense alerted.

Transference of energy.  It’s real.

The lake, an unblinking eye, gazed up into the heavens and reflected the light of a rising, pale sun.

Chapter Four

Thursday

Serenity

Serenity’s eyes popped open at her usual wake-up time of six o’clock. She didn’t feel like getting out of the bed, so she grabbed a book from the top of her to-read list.  She was warm and cozy and decided to read until the sun actually rose.  Once there was light outside, she would make herself a light breakfast and a pot of coffee, then sit outside and read at the edge of the lake.

Serenity had spent about ninety minutes in the cocoon of her bed with only the warm glow of the bedside lamp and her book for company. A grumbling tummy forced her to the kitchen.  She quickly made herself a delicious spinach and bacon frittata and a pot of coffee. She had opted for a flavored gourmet blend rather than her usual Colombian. Vacation didn’t require quite as big a caffeine boost.

After eating, she poured an embarrassingly large travel mug of coffee and made her way to the lake’s edge. It took just a couple of moments for her to organize her little area—captain’s chair, collapsing table, huge quilt, and her backpack full of books. The morning had dawned misty and beautiful. The sun was putting on a show. Serenity had missed it. She had noticed the man across the lake when she came out of the door, but she’d been more concerned with carrying all of her stuff so she hadn’t paid him much attention. Now that she was comfortably settled under her quilt, coffee nearby, and book ready to open, she was unable to govern her eyes.

He was beautiful. The dock across the lake was occupied by an extremely large man who appeared to be in his early forties. He was over six feet tall. His shoulders were incredibly wide, almost cartoonish. His chest was deep and covered in a nice dusting of brown hair. His biceps appeared to be carved from granite, and his hands were so big she wondered if one would wrap all the way around her calf. He obviously wasn’t one of those guys who only worked his upper body, because his thighs and calves were just as solid and well developed as his arms and chest. He was tan.  The only thing she couldn’t tell was what color his eyes were. Of course, if she got caught looking that hard she would be embarrassed.  She was embarrassed anyway.  By the time she finished her long look, she was clenching her thighs and taking note of the warmth pooling between them.
Goodness girl
, she thought to herself
. You need to get out more.  You almost got naked and swam over to make his acquaintance. Simmer down.

The problem was she
couldn’t
simmer down. Each time he changed his position, her scandalous eyes and nasty mind conspired against her intentions to read. Tree pose had her ogling his crotch. Down dog had her thinking about him going down dog on her pussy. His flow through to upward facing dog had her thinking about deep strokes. Side plank made her want to lick his abs. She finally gave up trying to read and just stared. He was clearly putting on a show. She had no problem watching until he finished his practice and was rolling up his mats.  Mats, plural…he was too long for one. She applauded. He obviously didn’t mind her ogling because he took a little bow before turning back to his home. Serenity took his absence as an opportunity to quiet her apparently very horny self and resume reading. 

Not long after she had settled into the story and was sipping her coffee, she heard a boat’s motor start. Her heart jumped in her throat, and butterflies danced in joyful circles in her tummy. 
He’s coming over here! Oh my God. Oh my God!
Calm down, Serenity.
Her body paid her no mind.  Her pussy was practically dancing.  Her nipples were hard and tingling.  She was getting wet just at the notion of that big old fine specimen of a grown-ass man coming across the lake.

“Oh, please don’t be married or gay. 
Please
,” she beseeched the Universe.  She knew he was the opposite of every man she had ever found attractive.  Serenity preferred her men slim, under six feet tall, and bookish.  Having been stuck at two inches under five feet since eighth grade, she had never understood why other women were so into behemoths. That just seemed like too much man to have on, over, and in her body.  She wasn’t built for that.

That might have been the case before this morning. But right now she wanted that man in the worst way, and if he would act even halfway decent, she was going to find out what all the fuss was about concerning big men. Hell, it was her vacation.  She had planned to spend it reading. Sexing a fine man was not a fail.  It was an upgrade. 

“Shit!  He’s docking. Calm down!  Act like you’ve got some sense,” she whispered to herself.