Alpha Knight (Wolf Ridge High 2)

“Careful, Legs,” he rumbles. “Remember your punishment for hitting me?”

I try to pull away, but he holds my wrist fast, slowly bringing my fingers to his lips and kissing one knuckle, then the next.

I’m trying not to think of it—I really am—but in my mind, he’s on top of me again, and this time he’s pressing my own fingers over my clit, talking dirty in my ear. Making me come over and over again.

I might have been pissed at him over what he did yesterday. It was definitely as humiliating as it was exciting. But he knew he crossed the line, and he checked in with me. So I’m good. And yes, I get shivers every time I think about it happening again.

And even though my first priority needs to be getting rid of this guy, I definitely do want it to happen again.

So I answer, “I’ll take my chances, Muscles.”

He bites my knuckles—a quick nip—then releases my hand with a grin. As we resume the walk down the hall, I’m pretty sure he has to adjust his junk because I just made him hard.

Two can play at this game.

And I always play to win.

Bo

Cave Hills classes aren’t quite as boring as Wolf Ridge. They’re harder, for sure. I can see why it’s a top rated public high school. The teachers are entertaining and smart. They are relaxed with the kids, who don’t give them shit. Totally different culture.

I emailed Wolf Ridge High this morning from my mom’s account to say that I needed to stay home to deal with some family business. Considering how small Wolf Ridge is and how fast gossip travels, the attendance clerk at school will assume that means I’m dealing with the Winslow problem and cut me some slack.

I know the other alpha-holes would sneer at my admiration of Cave Hills, and part of me wants to sneer too. These kids are so sheltered, they don’t know how easy they’ve got it. All they have to do is work hard at school, and life gets handed to them on a platter. They’re not working jobs on the side, dealing with shit like alcoholic parents or abuse.

Then again, maybe they are. Sloane must have some pretty big problems, or she wouldn’t be stealing cars.

At lunchtime, Sloane leads me around to the back of a building to eat her lunch.

“Are we hiding?” I ask.

She gives me a death glare. “Obviously.”

“You don’t want to show off your hot boyfriend?” I make a show of flexing my arm and popping my muscles.

She rolls her eyes.

“Oh, there you two are!” Sloane’s eager beaver friend Teri pops around the corner with Samantha. When she sees Sloane’s lack of excitement, she covers her mouth. “Oh my God, did you guys want some private time? I’m sorry!”

I scoot closer to Sloane on the grass and pick her up to sit on my lap. “Yeah, we’re going to do it right here in the grass,” I boast.

“Will you get off!” Sloane scrambles off my lap and bats at me again while her friends laugh.

“I’m trying to.”

She slaps me again. I catch her hand and bring it to my mouth, making a big show of kissing each finger while she wrestles me the whole time to take it back.

Her friends clearly decide they’re not intruding because they plop down on the grass with us.

“So are you staying with Sloane? At her aunt’s place?” Samantha asks.

“Yep,” I answer immediately, at the same time Sloane says no.

They glance from one to the other of us. “Well, which is it?”

I give a wicked grin. “I’m staying there, but her aunt doesn’t know. I crawled in her window last night.” I waggle my brows like we’re the naughtiest little high school sweethearts imaginable.

Sloane blushes.

“Well, we won’t tell.” Samantha sounds like she’s reprimanding Sloane. Probably offended she hadn’t been in on the truth.

They can’t be that tight yet, though, or Sloane would’ve already told them I’m not the real boyfriend.

Why didn’t she? That doesn’t really add up. If she doesn’t want me around, why not just deny it from the beginning?

Unless…

There is no Tyler.

But why would she have a made up boyfriend?

Dude, this girl is so shady, it’s hard to know what’s truth and what’s lie.

It’s hard to stay hardened against her, though, when she does things like pack me a lunch. She hands me two neatly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “Hope you don’t have a peanut allergy.”

“Wouldn’t you know if he did?” Samantha asked. These Cave Hills kids are too bright for their own good.

Sloane takes a bite of her sandwich. “Totally. I’m just kidding. I know he’s good.” She shoots me glance, and I confirm with a giant bite of the sandwich.

“Mmm, this is delicious. And you’re a peach.”

She rolls her eyes.

“So, tell me about Sloane’s life at Cave Hills. She’s the track star, of course.”