The Alpha King's Captive: (A Steamy Werewolf Romance)

W

t of frigid air blows in, causing me to pull the sheets tighter. I

the bathroom. I brush my teeth and take a quic

om, I stop short on seeing so

es my eye and I draw

I lift something to my

o be kidding

turning redder the more I see. A white tank top, a mini skirt, and a la

mmediately. I spin around, anger lacing m

ses up at the

lothes. Not the white slacks from Mount Pyre, or the ruined shir

my

...

nst the doorframe and drawls in that c

at

have fo

ing against that impossibly broad chest. The sleeves are rolled up, allowing for a view of masculine hands... The strong v

ed face, the only hint of softness on that s

I realize I've been star

bed, my earlier irritation re

e other option

ordlessly before I say, "Yo

s darke

a flush rises up my throat at th

dressed like this. I ne

that make you look lik

p. "Pencil skirts are

uld thi

at suppose

ive minutes, Gwen. Meet me

, feeling ridiculous. I slip on my clothes, gru

my face and exit the room, making my way past the rush of b

discern the restrained danger seething beneath that false civilized surface. The early morning sun catches on the planes of his fac

of energy slides down my spine and I l

and I grow nervous u

e diner. Tall glass windows. Wooden floorboards. F

me. Or more precisely, my long legs in the miniskirt. Low whis

it. A frightening snarl twists h

skull, I swoop in and drop into the seat opposite him

ring between a furious blue a

he underwear you bought, so

he tries to put tw

ostrils fl

at that moment. "W

say, trying my best to ignore th

is still staring at me openl

mains

n, I speak up. "He'll have the same thing I'm havin

nderstanding

ier words, "See s

blue. "Is your plan t

urself. It's just

s. I feel gooseflesh break out of my skin. I lean forward and his eyes

taken c

se. H

realize, seemed the type to take care of everything. The kind to have e

ldn't be sai

houghts. "You know," I say. "I should feel bad about the current state of my

"You name

u put it into perspective, they're almost the same thing. That is, taking into factor the fondness we have fo

eve we're having this conversation. The point is, I don't name my cars, and n

n throw my

nding chip for a hot minute, a conflicting expression on his face. I have a mind he's c

and he seems to conclude that he doesn't find it

concerting. I don't want to be anyon

g to do with the potent masculinity he exudes and more to do with the man

s plaything w

up around his heart, mine was bare, lai