he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2(21)

It was wrong.

But she had come to him. Offered herself up to him in the manner he relished. He was willing to bet she had never done something like that before when she marched up to his office, bypassed his PA and spread her legs for him on his guest chair.

He took her then and there.

How could he not? He was just a man. And a shifter. His sexual urges were higher than most.

But the tables were turned.

In the time they spent together, he found himself being more and more obsessed with her. Yes, obsessed was the right word. He craved her body like a drug. He could bury himself in her pussy all day, all night if she permitted him – breathe in that sweet womanly scent of her and tongue her senseless. He could drown himself in her mouth. He could not get enough of her tits, her ass, her holes – all of them. He could fuck her and fuck her forever and lose himself in her body. He loved the way her flesh engulfed him, and how – when he touched her – she was soft and comforting all over, not hard like those athletically toned shifter women were.

That was why he loved sinking his body into hers and against her flesh. He loved rubbing their skins together, their mouths together, their genitals together. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he knew he had it bad.

Oh Kate, he groaned.

It would have been wonderful had it not been for that other thing. The thing that was taking him over now.

The urges he had to shift, to become more animal – more beast than man – came with something else.

It was the need to devour.

There was another reason why he craved being with Kate so much. Her blood excited him. The smell of it, the feel of it coursing down her veins, gathering in her heart as it pumped it in its circuit around her fleshy body. And not only her blood, but her flesh. The sweet, sweet scent of it. The taste of her skin as he licked her.

His obsession with her went beyond being carnal. It was a deeply psychological need to be with her physically, and yet having to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into her flesh. He had to wrestle with these juxtaposing needs. It was complex, like something out of the Jung he taught in class.

And lately, there was something else. A third component to finish the triumvirate of his obsession and despair.

He wanted to be with her for reasons beyond the physical.

He enjoyed being with Kate Penney. He enjoyed the little things they did together outside of sex. He liked her quiet presence in a room. He liked watching her do mundane things.

He liked being with her, period.

Now there were three reasons why he wanted to be with her. And one of them was dark and dangerous and frightening even to him.

What was he turning into?

And would Kate be his victim?

They always became the victim, eventually.

Unless he could stop himself.





12



“Kate!”

She swiveled. She was walking to the cafeteria to meet Michaela for lunch. When she saw who it was, she walked faster.

But he eventually caught up, as she knew he would.

“Kate.” Carlo’s voice was urgent. He grabbed her arm. “Please . . . talk to me.”

“What’s there to talk about, Carlo?”

She stopped anyway. She felt guilty about the whole thing. She felt like she owed Carlo for her shameless behavior – for flaunting herself in front of him like that. For having power over him.

“Please,” he said, his eyes pleading, “let’s talk.”



*



She nursed her coffee, feeling awkward.

“You’ve seen what he does to people,” Carlo said. They were at Starbucks, away from the prying eyes of campus. “He’s cruel, Kate.”

Only to you.

She shook her head. “Not really, Carlo.”

“You don’t think he’s playing a game?” Carlo’s eyes flashed fire.

“You’re a waiter. He was a customer. You were doing your job, serving him.” She didn’t dare to use the word ‘us’.

“He could have asked for another waiter.”

“You could have declined to serve us.” She raised her eyes. “But you wanted to stay, didn’t you? You wanted to see what he would do.”

Carlo swallowed.

“Yes, I’ll admit it,” he said. “I wanted to stay to see how far his sick mind would go.”

“You call him sick . . . and yet you fawn over him after class each time.”

“I wasn’t fawning. I’m a partial scholarship student. I am genuinely interested in what I’m studying. I do that in all classes.”

“Why do you like me, Carlo? Why do you persist on doing – ” She waved her hand “ – this? Do you want me that badly? I asked you this before. Do you want me only because he wants me?”

Carlo hesitated. She stared at him – at his handsome olive-skinned complexion. At the color rising in his cheeks.