Alphas of Red Moon Ranch(59)

Before she knew it, her breath was coming shorter after every sentence and her thighs slipped when she squeezed them together. Holly caught herself (control, she chastised) and tried to push back the blossoming blush that threatened to damage her composure. She chanced a glance upwards, flickering her eyes over the top of her book, only to find that her students were barely paying attention as it was—most doodling in the corners of their notebooks or texting under the table—and no one had noticed her slip-up.

Well. Almost no one. A pair of sharp blue eyes fastened on her and a teeth-baring smile curved over Cayden’s mouth.

Right. The cougar in the class. With a sudden flash of horror she realized that he—oh god—could probably…smell the sexual energy radiating off of her. Just like Jacob could. Her blush was unstoppable now and Holly self-consciously yanked her pleated skirt further down her knees, quietly furious with herself. “That’s enough of that,” she said firmly and averted her eyes from Cayden. “Now if you will open your notebooks…”

In the rustle that ensued, student flipping pages and powering on laptops, Holly actively ignored Cayden’s Cheshire Cat smirk.





Chapter 49


Holly made it home in record time. Jacob wasn’t there yet and, while his absence was normally disappointing, this time it provided an opportunity. She jumped into the shower, washed the school day off of her (and her sweaty humiliation), and changed into a long, flowing dress, one that pushed her breasts up, presenting them like a meal on a silver platter. Then she fixed dinner—one of his favorite recipes she’d borrowed from Mama Mae—grilled salmon, roasted asparagus, and potatoes. While that cooked, she dimmed the lights and set the mood, igniting the fire with a whoosh.

She pulled her long red hair back into a bun to keep it out of her face. Now she had nothing to do but wait. So wait she did, by the front door. She folded her legs underneath her and bowed her head. And waited. She’d been studying up, reading more about submission. Decided her Alpha needed a submissive wife every now and then. She’d read that this was where she was supposed to zone out—“sub space” or whatever they called it—but Holly had never been very good at meditation. So she grabbed her book and flipped it open on her knees.

She got a couple chapters in before she heard his truck splutter and stop outside their house. Quickly, like a little girl with her hand caught in the cookie jar, Holly pushed the book away. It slid across the hardwood and landed with a thunk against the door. She imagined Jacob coming in and catching her with it or—worse—walking one foot through the door and tripping on the slippery dust jacket. Would he punish her for that? Would he bend her over the couch again and spank her as he had before? The thought made her nipples tighten and stand out like small pebbles under her dress.

She heard his heavy footfalls thump carelessly against the wooden planks of the porch before he slung the door open. Holly expected it, but she still jumped with the force of his swing and forced her gaze down, on the floor. Submissive. Her eyes latched onto her book, which was now stuffed between the door and the wall. A thrill of fear running through her, she buttoned her lips and kept her composure. She’d put a lot of effort into this and she wanted it to be perfect for him. “Welcome home, Boss,” she murmured.

She couldn’t see his face, but his feet came to a stop. Then he crouched down until he was eye level with her. She could see the salt-and-pepper scruff of his beard, she could smell him (metal rust, engine smoke, pinewood, moonless night sky), but she kept her eyes averted from his. She could feel him watching her, though, and that intense dark-eyed stare burned straight through her.

“What’s this?” he asked. His fingers cupped her chin and tilted it up until her eyes finally met his. When his gaze connected with hers, it felt like an electric shot straight through her bones, making her heart run an extra mile.

“You’re my king,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, his voice even, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “But what’s my queen doing on her knees?”

That made a tremble run through the center of her body and settle between her legs. Sensual wasn’t exactly her forte, but she wanted to take this seriously. Be professional. “Worshipping you,” she said.

His expression shifted at that—pleased, eyes darkened with carnal lust. He inhaled sharply, though, as if to quell his enjoyment. “You know you don’t have to do that,” he said.

No, no, that’s not what she wanted. How insane she felt then—she’d spent so much time pushing the Beast out of the bedroom, and now she was practically pulling teeth to get his animal to come out and play. Now she craved it; she ached for the Beast inside of him to be inside of her. She wanted—no, needed—him to fuck her, hard, until her fingernails dug into his arm to hold on for dear life. Instead of throwing herself at him like every tingling inch of her wanted to, Holly disciplined herself. She settled back, placid, and held his gaze innocently. “I want to,” she said, her voice light.