Her Alpha Dog: An Age Gap, Alpha Man Romance Page 2

  “Coffee. I was bringing you a cup of coffee this morning, Mr. Murphy…” I held up the bag of beans which, unlike me, had made it through unscathed. “And replenishments for what I drank these last couple weeks.”

  His deep brown eyes softened, and he shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.” He peeled away my sock, having a closer look at my ankle. “Can you move it?”

  I stared at him as he closely examined my injured ankle, so attentive. So caring. Was it possible that all this time I thought he was annoyed by me… maybe in actuality, he liked me too much?

  “Chelsea?” He prodded again, concern marring his gloriously handsome face.

  I nodded and circled my ankle around. “It’s sore, but I think it’s okay.”

  “I think we should take you to the ER just in case—”

  “No,” I said quickly. “An ER trip will be three hours of waiting and a four-figure bill just to have them tell me it’s a bad bruise.” Nope. No thank you. I’ll keep my money and my time, thank you very much.

  “Chelsea.” He stated my name as though it was a sentence. A fully thought out sentence in and of itself. And his growled tone was eerily similar to the way he had groaned my name while he was touching himself. “You’re my employee. It happened on my watch in my trailer… I will pay for the medical bills.”

  I shook my head. “I promise I’m fine. If I was in more pain, I would take you up on that, I swear. But as it is, I’m okay—”

  His hand started stroking my foot gently, applying just a tender amount of pressure at my arch, and my gasp cut me off mid-sentence. God, that felt good. And knowing those hands had just been touching his cock? My breasts grew heavy with need, my nipples tightening beneath my damp t-shirt.

  His gaze dipped to my chest and his mouth parted as he drew in a breath. My clothes weren’t especially sexy or revealing… khaki shorts. A v-neck, fitted t-shirt. Keds. Your standard dog-walking outfit. But the way he was looking at me? I felt… naked.

  His throat tightened with a swallow; a motion that, though small, didn’t go unnoticed.

  He leaned in, close enough that it would only take a couple inches for me to move forward, to press our lips together. His hand skimmed from my foot up my calf, kneading his thumb into the muscle there. I wasn’t prepared for the heat that rippled out from his touch, sending a path of goosebumps surging up my leg. His grip on my leg changed, pinching tighter, and I heard his breath catch as one of his fingers trailed across the goosebumps. I wasn’t counting on how delicate I would feel beneath his touch. How his entire hand could drape over my thigh and almost cover me. Seeing his hands there—so intimate, yet not entirely inappropriate—sent my neglected libido into overdrive.

  I trembled, a shudder so incredibly out of my control that it rocked down my spine.

  “What were you doing?” he asked carefully, “by my window?” Then… holy hell… his thumb started to move. Small strokes over my knee.

  “I… um… had knocked, and you didn’t answer.” With my choked breath and quivering voice, I was certain he could call my bluff.

  A knowing smile creased the corners of his mouth. “You never knock.”

  Dammit.

  “Well, today, I did.” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. It was a wonder I managed to speak, what with swallowing my tongue and all.

  We didn’t move for a while. Stayed just like that: his hand on my knee, eyes locked, our mouths inches apart. I wanted him. I wanted him more than I had wanted anyone in ages. I had only ever had one boyfriend… one lover… and I’d never felt like this with him. Never felt this insatiable lust, like all I wanted was to arch my back and offer my body to him to feast on.

  But Josh was a gentleman… and my boss. I doubted he would make the first move. If I wanted him, it was up to me to make that happen. I licked my lips and tasted the remnants of the Chapstick I had applied that morning.

  He felt this, too. Surely, he did. But just as I was about to part my lips and kiss him, he pulled back, the moment broken.

  Scooting away from me, he gently propped my ankle up on some pillows. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

  I glanced down at my shirt, still damp with coffee and now sheer because of that spill. Well, crap. I shook my head no.

  He stood, crossing to a wardrobe, and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of his shorts. “You can use my shower if you want to,” he said, gesturing to a door off to the right of the lit mirror.

  Normally, I would have said no. Normally, I would have maybe taken the change of shirt, but just wiped down in the bathroom quickly and waited until I got home. But this was my chance to strip naked… here in Josh’s presence. To show him I was more than just a girl who cared for his dog. And based on the display I saw through the crack in his window… I think he wanted me, too.

  “Sure,” I said, moving to stand up. “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he rushed to my side, helping me to my feet, even though the pain in my ankle had dulled to barely a throb. “I can wait outside if you want—”

  “No!” I said. “It’s just… you should probably be in here in case anything happens. With my ankle, I mean.”

  His eyes creased in concern. “Of course. I should have thought of that myself.”

  “Don’t beat yourself off…”

  His brow quirked at me. “Don’t beat myself off?” he repeated.

  “Up!” I corrected, my voice a squeak. Holy shit, why was I such a spaz? “Don’t beat yourself up about it is what I meant to say!”

  We reached his bathroom and he set me down to lean on the sink while he turned on the water and set the folded clothes next to where I was leaning. “If you need anything, just holler.”

  I nodded, scooting to stand by the door so I was leaning on the edge of it. He crossed the trailer and took a seat on the couch next to Cola who patiently observed both of us curiously.

  As I moved to close the door, I paused just short of clicking it shut, being sure to leave a crack open. If I had a peep show earlier, then didn’t Josh deserve one, too?

  Chapter 4

  Josh

  She saw me masturbating. I was almost certain of it. From the rosy blush that heated her cheeks to her tight nipples and Freudian slip with that beat off comment. She’d seen me choking my cock in my fist. Thank God she couldn’t see all the vile things running through my mind about her while I was masturbating. All the positions I’d put her in… her pouty mouth calling me Mr. Murphy.

  I glanced at the bathroom door, noticing she didn’t quite shut it all the way. I stood slowly, carefully making my way over there to see if that was an accident or not. Or maybe she needed me to shut it for her.

  Through the slim crack in the door, I saw her back muscles tighten and flex as she pulled her shirt overhead. I swallowed my groan. Please turn around, I inwardly begged, desperately wanting to see those breasts of hers. I could almost make them out earlier as they strained against her tight white t-shirt, wet from the coffee she’d spilled on herself.

  Fuck me. I’d just finished getting myself off and here I was, rock hard yet again. Thanks to my gorgeous dog walker. I was going to hell. Or going to get sued. Not sure which… maybe both.

  She turned her face just the slightest bit so that I had a side view of her smirk. You little tease, I thought. She knew just what she was doing, leaving that door cracked open. Lust tore through my body. She wanted me. She wanted this. But I didn’t just want her body once for carnal pleasure. I wanted her … forever. I wanted Chelsea to be mine.

  As she bent, she popped the button of those inappropriately tight shorts—I swore, she dressed like this just to drive me wild—and slid them down over her slim legs. With her hands near her ankles, kicking away her shorts, she gave me the most delicious view of her sweet, juicy ass. And the twist of her spine also offered me a side view of her perky, way-too-young-for-me tits.

  Even though the door was only cracked an inch, it was enough to see as she looked over her shoul
der and met my eyes. Every ounce of air punched out of my lungs as those whiskey-brown eyes found mine and she lifted her hand and crooked her finger at me—summoning me with a curl of her index finger.

  Like a bee to pollen, I was drawn to her. I crossed closer to the bathroom. “You okay in there?” I asked through the crack in the door and fuck if my voice wasn’t raspy.

  “I’m good,” she said and with her outstretched leg, used her toe to open the door wider. “A little lonely, maybe.”

  And there she was, standing in front of me in full, glorious nudity. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  I took another step closer, not quite entering the bathroom yet. “What were you really doing outside my window?” I asked.

  She gulped, and I could see her delicate throat move with the swallow. I wanted to see that throat exposed to me like an offering. I wanted to explore every dip and curve of her body with my tongue… starting with that neck. “That’s the question you want to ask… while I’m standing naked in front of you?”

  A nod was my only answer.

  She glanced to the side, her bravado melting into a more nervous energy. Her sexy thighs rubbed together as her weight shifted back and forth and she moved to cover her breasts with her hand. I caught her wrist gently and moved it back down to her side. Oh, no sweetheart. You started this game. You wanted my attention? You got it.

  “I—I heard a noise,” she admitted.

  My eyes narrowed. “What sort of noise?” I leaned in closer, starving for just one taste of that mouth of hers.

  Her nipples puckered—they were tight, small nubs, and I was entirely wrong—they weren’t rosy pink or a light tan. They were the most beautiful dark tan and begged to be licked and sucked.

  “I heard my name… and groaning.” Her eyes cut to my dick, now pressing painfully into the zipper of my jeans.

  “And what did you see?” Just say it. Say it, Chelsea.

  She reached out, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my jeans, and tugged me into the bathroom, pulling me flush against her bare body. Those perfect nipples brushed my bare chest. “Why don’t I show you, instead?” Her palm slid to my hard cock, and she stroked me from root to tip through my jeans.

  Fuck me. Her touch was heaven.

  But even still, I was the king of control, and she wasn’t going to win this game. That’s exactly what this was now… a game. Play time. She tilted her chin, offering her lips to me. “Please, Josh,” she whispered, her eyes wet as she blinked up at me.

  It wasn’t the right name. Not what she’d been calling me for weeks. “Just this once,” she whispered.

  My hands grasped her bare hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. That control I just boasted about frayed, just the tiniest bit, as a snarl escaped my mouth.

  I brought my mouth to hers, kissing her deeply and her tongue immediately explored mine. I’d waited for this for two long weeks. Two damn weeks I longed for her mouth, her skin, her touch, wanting to sink inside of her and stay there. But there was one thing she was wrong about—it was not going to be just this one time. No way in hell.

  Chapter 5

  Chelsea

  “You watched me,” he said, his voice so deep, as he pulled away from our kiss.

  I nodded and his fingers found my nipple, pinching hard. I jerked at the sudden, sharp movement that quickly melted into a hunger for more.

  “A nod isn’t an answer, Chelsea,” he stated.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yes, who?”

  I had to stop the smirk from lifting my mouth. I knew what he wanted to be called. What he wanted to hear from me. This was the fun. The game. And he was good at the game, I could tell. His expression was so stern—a scowl set the hard lines of his face. If not for his hard cock still in my palm with only a layer of denim separating us, I wouldn’t have known he was still playing. “Yes… Josh.”

  His hands squeezed tighter at my hips, and he lowered his lips to my ear, scraping his teeth across the sensitive skin there. My head spun, and I could barely think clearly with how completely turned on I was. “One more try, Chelsea.”

  The steam from the shower filled the room around us, and beads of moisture were clinging to my bare flesh. It wasn’t fair that I was naked and he wasn’t. “Yes… Mr. Murphy,” I said.

  His eyes darkened, and with a growl, he tugged me into him, ravaging my mouth. His teeth sank into my lower lip before nibbling down my neck.

  His thick fingers found my folds, wedging against my slick entrance. Every muscle in my body was rigid against his touch. Primed and ready for the climax. I was so ready for it, like electricity was coursing through my veins rather than blood. I pulsed my hips, grinding into his fingers, aching for more.

  “Nu-uh,” he tutted, pulling his fingers away as I whimpered, falling into a puddle in his arms.

  “Please, Mr. Murphy,” I begged and shifted my weight so that I wasn’t standing all my weight on my sore ankle.

  Attentive as always, he noticed and lifted me up, setting me on the sink. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “I like good manners,” and he pushed two fingers deep inside of me.

  Excitement and explosive arousal collided deep in my core as he entered me. I was on the edge, breathless, and squirming with only a few pumps of his fingers. My orgasm was just within reach as he withdrew in a cruel show of his power over me. I clutched his bare shoulders, digging my fingernails into his flesh and wedging my heels against his lower back, trying to pull him closer.

  “Not yet,” he growled. “Do you trust me, Chelsea?”

  Breathless, I nodded. “Yes.”

  “You trust that I won’t ever leave you needing for anything?”

  Again, I nodded. “Yes.”

  A smile softened that scowl of his. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Mr. Murphy.”

  “Atta girl.” He palmed my breast, squeezing it and bending to clamp his lips around my nipple. I squirmed as his free hand braced around my lower back, holding me in place. His mouth was hot and wet as he tongued and sucked on my nipple, a blast of arousal flooding between my legs.

  I wiggled against his hold, unable to keep my trembling muscles immobile under the intense attention he was giving my body. It was too much—all too much. My hips tipped forward brushing his hard cock, still contained in his jeans, and even though the pressure against my clit was slight, it elicited a deep moan from somewhere at the back of my throat. “Please, please…”

  It seemed this was the only word I could remember, let alone manage to say, as his fingers moved between my legs again, sliding over my stiff, slick clit. Between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched and gently rolled my clit between his fingers, and tingles spiraled down my legs. My moan echoed, bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

  Somewhere in the distance, I registered the sound of a zipper and the rustle of pants falling. While still stroking my clit, his cock glided across my entrance. I heard the tear of a wrapper, and I reached down, helping to guide the condom onto his thick cock. He was heavy in my hand. A heavy, hard rod that I wasn’t sure how he could possibly fit inside me. I squirmed as my pussy quivered, aching for that stretched feel of him inside of me.

  He barely needed to move his fingers against my clit. I was so swollen and needy and ready. I was on the edge, grasping his shoulder with one hand, his cock with the other, and pumping my pelvis into his hand.

  He took my hand from his cock and placed it on his shoulder where I braced all my weight. Don’t come yet, don’t come yet… I repeated over and over in my head. I wanted to please him. Wanted to do as he asked and wait for him to tell me I could come. But it was so close. My orgasm was right there within reach, and I was at the edge of a cliff, teetering and ready to fall into absolute bliss.

  “That’s right, baby,” he said. “Come for me.”

  I shattered under his touch, and just as the first wave clenched through my body, he sunk his cock inside of me.

  My pussy clutched
him as I pulsed around each one of his thrusts. He filled me, stretched me, and I quivered, actually fucking quivered around his girth. The blissful spasms calmed as he increased the speed of his thrusts, driving into me with each punishing lunge of his hips.

  His hands slid from my clit to my thighs, spreading me wider, revealing the slick movement to each of us. I ached, getting hotter and wetter as I took every inch of him.

  “Fuck, look at this perfect pussy,” he groaned.

  I did as he said, glancing between us at the spread of my thighs and his thick cock gliding in and out of me. I was pink and swollen and so wet that I could see it gathering and glistening on his cock and the skin of my inner thighs. The strain began to build again within my pussy as his cock hit the tight bundle of nerves deep within my body.

  His grip on my hips tightened, and he slammed down into me, faster, harder with brutal force. I cried out, screaming his name as he fucked me again and again. A deluge of pleasure surged through my body. My legs shook as I came again, my skin on fire as Josh growled, his body going stiff. With a roar, he thrusted once more, his head falling back, and I could feel the heat of come inside of me, filling the condom, and the pulse of his cock within me, pressing on the lower part of my belly.

  His sweat-damp brow fell to my shoulder. “Good girl,” he whispered, burying his face in my neck. He eased himself out of me, his hand still stroking my pussy. I was swollen, sensitive—each touch of his finger to my body had me wriggling away.

  “It’s too much,” I panted.

  “Too much?” he whispered, dropping to his knees so that his face lined up at my spread legs. “That’s not possible.”

  “Josh, please,” I panted and tried to close my legs, but his hands caught the insides of my knees spreading me wider. “I can’t.” A breath rattled in my chest.

  He pushed his thumb against my clit, and a fiery heat launched from his touch up my belly. “What’d you just call me?” His voice was a low growl, and I wiggled against the edge of the sink’s counter.