Her Alpha Dog: An Age Gap, Alpha Man Romance Read online

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  Copyright © 2020 by Katana Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Shanoff Designs

  Edited by: Erin Marenghi

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  More by Katana Collins

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  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Josh

  Sometimes, I hate being famous.

  I realized that I was privileged as fuck to even say that… but it didn’t make it any less true.

  This morning on my way to the set, I was walking my dog and stopped at a coffee shop to grab a latte. I thought it’d be safe since it was six in the morning… but nope. When you’re recognizable from a pretty decent movie career and a tv show that had been on the air for four years, no time of day was safe. There was a woman behind me in line who took out her cell phone and started snapping pictures of me and Cola—my husky. When the manager asked her to stop, she screamed: He’s public domain!

  I’m public domain? What does that even mean for God’s sake?

  And now this. Some Polaroids were slipped under the door of my trailer when I arrived on set. Naked Polaroids… but not a single one showed her face. Normally, this wouldn’t be so concerning. My brothers and I are on a popular improv tv show—sort of like a cross between Punk’d and Impractical Jokers. Our female fans are some of the most loyal and… well, exuberant I’ve ever had. Of my four brothers, I was the oldest and the only one out of all of us who had any acting experience prior to our tv show. If I was really being honest, I’m the reason the show got picked up to begin with. Having my name linked to it made Silhouette Studios greenlight it without much question. The executives jumped on the chance to produce an inexpensive comedy show with a movie star attached.

  So, it was no surprise that we got fan mail daily that the studio delivered to our trailers. What was surprising about this, though, was that the fan mail hadn’t arrived yet today. And this envelope had no address or stamp on it. It was like she personally hand-delivered it here on set. These sets had security tighter than most airports. The only way she got in here was if she worked here in the studio or knew someone who does.

  Either way, not good for me. I stuffed the naked photos back into the envelope and made a mental note to bring them to security to look into it.

  Cola pawed at my leg, looking up at me with honey brown eyes as my makeup artist finished up, packing her makeup and tools. “You probably have fifteen minutes before they’ll call you onto set,” she said, halfway out the door.

  “Thanks, Ava,” I said. As Ava exited, she passed a gorgeous young woman skipping up the steps into my trailer. With every hop up the steps, her long, curly dark hair bounced like a shampoo commercial.

  “Knock, knock,” she said in lieu of actually, well, knocking. And she was chipper. So damn chipper for only eight a.m.

  “Yes?” I groused, unable to hide my discontent. There weren’t many people who came into my trailer, and I was almost always wary of those who did. My eyes flicked to the envelope with the naked Polaroids, and I skimmed my gaze over her body. Was this the same woman? Had she managed to sneak back in to confront me?

  Granted, this girl was stunning with razor sharp cheekbones, deep-set, doe-brown eyes, framed by thick, black lashes. They weren’t a dark chocolate brown like my eyes—no, hers were fawn colored. A whiskey gold with flecks of green peppering her irises. Maybe if all crazed fans looked like her, I wouldn’t care. Maybe I’d even let her keep sending me Polaroids.

  My gaze landed on the gentle curve of her waist and her thin, muscled thighs—they were completely different than the busty curves of the woman in the photo. Even still, my cock sprang to attention.

  She closed the door behind her and flashed a grin in my direction. “I’m Chelsea,” she said, offering me her hand. “Chelsea Griffin. Your new dog walker.”

  Crap. I had totally forgotten she was starting today. My previous dog walker, Tula, had left for grad school a week ago. But holy shit, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when Tula told me she had a friend who could take her place. My assistant had interviewed Chelsea and assured me that Cola adored her, so I agreed to hire her on a trial basis without interviewing her myself.

  Huge fucking mistake.

  Tula didn’t turn me on like this when she used to work here. Tula didn’t leave my cock hard and aching or get me wondering what her nipples looked like beneath her clothes. Were they small and pointed? A rosy color or more tanned? Were they big and saucer-shaped?

  I eyed her hand, taking it carefully in mine, and her grip was firm. Hard. I swallowed a groan, imagining that grip around my cock. Jesus. Get a grip, Josh.

  “You’re late,” I grumbled, tugging out the napkin that Ava used to keep my shirt collar free from makeup stains. The irritability was apparent in my voice, and her face shifted at the change in tone, uneasy. Those perfect, petal lips formed into a pout, and fuck me, I wanted to suck that bottom lip and nibble it until she moaned in ecstasy.

  “Am I?” Chelsea looked confused with a glance at her phone. “It’s 9:02.”

  “Exactly.” I stood, grabbed the pot of coffee that had finished brewing in the corner, and poured myself cup. “Two minutes late.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got caught walking behind one of those stupid studio tours. Slowed me down by at least a minute.”

  Cola ran over to Chelsea, wiggling her butt and weaving in and out between her legs. “Hi, Cola!” she said, bending over to pet my dog, who practically crawled into her lap. Traitor. I couldn’t help myself as my gaze skimmed over her heart-shaped ass in her tight jeans. Her white t-shirt was sheer, and I imagined how just a little bit of water would reveal the perfect nipples beneath it.

  Shit. I tore my gaze away from her as she scratched Cola’s chin. “Did you have a good morning little cutie?” she asked.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please!” she said and giggled as Cola licked her neck. Never in my life had I been so damn jealous of my dog. “I was going to stop by Kraft Services for a coffee, but… well, as you know, I was running late…”

  “Ugh, don’t bother. The coffee down there is nothing more than coffee flavored water. It’s terrible.” I paused, grabbing another mug from the cabinet and pouring a second cup of coffee for her. “How do you take yours?”

  “Black, please.”

  A woman after my own heart. “Here you go,” I said, handing her the cup as she stood. She made her way toward me, her white Keds shuffling against the trailer floors. Reaching out for the cup of coffee, her hand brushed mine, and
the edge of her long fingernail scratched me gently. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was a suggestive motion. But the moment I felt the tingle of awareness skitter up my arm, Chelsea drew her hand back, gasping. Like she felt it, too. No… like she was surprised she felt it, too.

  I waited a moment for her to take a sip before starting my own interview. That wasn’t what this morning was necessarily supposed to be, but I wanted to know more about her.

  “So, Chelsea,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Tell me a bit about you.”

  “I’ve known Tula for a long time. We went to high school together and were roommates after she graduated from college.”

  “What was your major?” I pressed. I wanted—needed—to know more about her.

  “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t go to college. I took a few years off and worked in landscaping.” Well, that explained her muscled physique. A few years working in landscaping would do that for anyone.

  “And what brought you to the world of dog walking?”

  She grinned sheepishly and pushed an errant curly strand behind her ear. “Tula,” she said. “Tula started her dog walking company and she put me on under her insurance. I love dogs. I’ve loved animals my whole life, and when I started real estate school, I couldn’t work the long hours of landscaping. So, Tula let me take some of her charges. But when the position to walk Cola opened up, she said you were her most important client and she trusted me fully to take over.”

  She beamed with pride. On one hand, I loved the fact that Chelsea had dreams and goals and was studying to be a real estate agent. On the other hand, it meant that she, too, would be eventually moving on from dog walking. Moving on from me. The thought already left my stomach roiling and I’d only known her five minutes. “How far away are you from getting your real estate license?”

  “I have about eight months left,” she said. “But don’t worry. It can take a while to build a network, and I will continue working here as well in the beginning. I promise to give you and Tula plenty of notice before I move on.”

  I nodded and ignored the irrational twist in my gut at the idea of her moving on. Damn. I’d hoped that by learning a little about her, it would ease the growing attraction I had for her. But it was just the opposite. Instead of fading, my desire grew. She was smart, down-to-earth, and driven. She wasn’t just some pampered LA girl getting by on her father’s credit card.

  Pulling the mug to her mouth, she took a long sip, looking up at me. I got a small thrill knowing that her lips had touched the edges of most of my coffee mugs. “Is there anything I should know about Cola before I take her for the morning?” she asked, blinking those eyes at me.

  I smiled, maybe for the first time all morning, and looked down at my dog—the love of my life—looking up at me with begging eyes, as though my coffee were a treat to be had. “She’s a great dog. The best. But just know, she will always try to convince you that she hasn’t eaten yet… and she’s a big, greedy liar.” I laughed, nudging my toe against her chest. “No matter how hard she begs, no people food, either.”

  “Got it,” Chelsea said with a nod. “She was really good on the test walk I did with your assistant. She doesn’t pull on her leash or anything.”

  “Not usually,” I chuckled. “Unless there’s a squirrel. Squirrels are the enemy and must die… isn’t that right, Cola?”

  She barked, hopping onto her hind legs and dancing for me.

  Chelsea grinned, flipping the part of her curly dark hair. “Awwww, Cola! You and I are going to have so much fun while Daddy works!”

  My heart raced at the word Daddy. It thrummed even faster as she bent over, the side of her ass brushing my thigh.

  “I’m due on set.” I jumped back and grabbed my bag, pausing to give Cola a kiss. “Have a good walk, ol’ girl.”

  “You calling me old?” Chelsea said, her hand on her hip, and that Ked-covered toe of hers rapidly tapping against the floor.

  “What? Uh, no… I…” Oh, Jesus. That’s all I needed. Five minutes on the job and she was already after me… but an ageist accusation from a 22-year old?! “I was talking to the dog. You are clearly not old, Chelsea—”

  A song of giggles erupted as she threw her head back. “I’m kidding, Mr. Murphy. How did you not realize that?”

  Shit. I couldn’t exactly say because I’m so distracted by wanting to spread those pretty little thighs of yours, I missed the sarcasm. Instead, I answered, “I’m gullible.”

  Her dark brows twitched, and the corners of her mouth curved. “Aren’t you the star of a prank tv show? … Where it’s your job not to be gullible?”

  Shit, shit, shit. “Yeah. That’s what makes good TV. Look, I’ve got to go. Remember, no people food. And she can be pretty stubborn if she wants the walk to go longer.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Murphy… ” Mr. Murphy. Motherfucker. My name in any form coming from her mouth was more arousing than any naked Polaroids. My cock stiffened, and I thanked whatever God would have me that it was one of our chillier LA mornings. It will give me the chance to cool off on the walk to the shoot. “…I’ll have her eating out of the palm of my hand in no time.”

  She waved as I shut the door behind me. I paused, still hearing her on the other side of that closed door, chatting with Cola as though the dog could understand every word and possibly respond. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and sighed.

  Cola wasn’t the only one who’d be eating out of the palm of her hand. Chelsea Griffin had me wrapped around her little finger in fifteen minutes flat.

  I was fucked.

  Chapter 2

  Chelsea

  Two Weeks Later…

  At seven forty-five in the morning, I made it to Josh’s trailer. I wasn’t exactly a morning person, but my mornings with Josh and Cola were my absolute favorite. I hoisted my bag higher on my shoulder, balancing the two cups of coffee and the bag of ground coffee I had bought to replace the copious amounts I had been drinking from Josh’s—I mean, Mr. Murphy’s stash.

  He seemed to like it when I addressed him formally. Even though literally none of his other employees did. Everyone called him Josh. Except for me. Except in my thoughts… the one place I could pretend we were on a first name basis and Josh saw me as more than the girl who walked his dog.

  My hand hovered at the doorknob, and I was ready to walk in when a sound from inside made me pause. Then… words that I couldn’t quite make out. Was he having a meeting this morning? I had already seen Ava outside of Sam’s trailer, so I knew she wasn’t here. And Josh was really particular about his space, not allowing too many people inside.

  Another sound, this one was clearer—and it was most certainly a groan. A primal sounding, male groan.

  I started to quietly back away from the trailer door. If Josh was in there with another woman, I definitely did not want to see that. I wasn’t sure my heart could handle it. For two weeks, I’d been falling for him. Two weeks of trying to maintain my professionalism while he made me smile and laugh harder than I had in years.

  “Chelsea,” he grunted my name and I froze, my spine going rigid. Was that… was he in there with another woman named Chelsea? “Fuck yeah, Chelsea,” he moaned again.

  My inner voyeur overtook my common sense, and I stretched to peek through the window beside the door, balancing my body and the tray of our coffees precariously. The railing from the staircase pressed firmly against my abdomen, pinching, and I had to teeter on my tiptoes to see. Although the curtains were drawn, there was a slice of area where they didn’t quite touch. A sliver to see through. And truly, a sliver was all I needed.

  Josh stood at his dressing table, his large palm pressed against the mirror with is back facing me. Luckily, the reflection gave me the full 360-degree view of … well, everything. His ass clenched as he pumped his hips into his fisted hand, gripping his cock, red and swollen, and a glisten of cum dripped out the top.

  And speaking of his cock… good lord, it was huge. Arousa
l slammed into my body, a heated coil unfurling low in my belly. I parted my lips and sighed, drinking in the view. God, he was spectacular. All hard lines and muscle and sexy chiseled angles.

  His strokes became faster, wilder, before he threw his head back, spurting against the mirror. I clenched my thighs together, pulsing my muscles, aching for friction. Aching for that release to be inside of me.

  Just then, Cola hopped up, placing her front paws on the ledge of the window right in front of my face and barked, completely startling me. I lost my footing and slipped over the railing, tray and all, coffee splashing all over my t-shirt.

  Chapter 3

  Chelsea

  Within moments, Josh swung open the door, a frantic look in his eyes. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips… and that was it. Little did he know that I had seen what he was doing seconds earlier. That I knew he threw those jeans on quickly over his still-hard cock before rushing out to find me, sprawled on my back covered in hot, black coffee.

  “Oh, my God, Chelsea,” he cried and rushed down the stairs to help me. “Are you okay?”

  He scooped me up and carried me up the stairs into the trailer, kicking the door shut behind him. “Are you hurt?”

  “Just my pride,” I groaned. “And… maybe my ankle, too.”

  He gently set me down on the couch and knelt in front of me, unlacing my once-white Keds… which were now splattered tan with coffee. Damn. Those were practically new, too. “What’s all over you?” He asked, grazing his finger from the inside of my knee down the length of my leg and catching a dark brown droplet at my ankle.