Page 79 of Possessive Alpha

I jab my finger into his ribs. “If the next word that comes out of your mouth is efforts, I might have to skin you.”

His bark of laughter fills the room, and he squeezes me. “Bloodthirsty thing. Come here.”

We kiss for several seconds before he breaks it, and we’re lying side by side, facing each other. “Being a well driller was interesting. I liked the job a lot.”

“Did you only dig wells?” I ask.

“Just wells.”

“Anywhere?”

He nods. “The Californian desert. In the Midwest. Even went as far as Alaska once.”

“What was the best thing you ever dug from the ground?”

He laughs. “Other than water?”

“Well, surely something surprised you, like a fossil or something.”

“That’s a strange question to be asking me now,” he says, smiling.

I trace the shape of his mouth with a finger.

I like the shape I’m drawing, almost as much as I like the soft, satisfied look in his eyes as his fingers skim up and down my back.

“It’s not that strange. I have so many questions I wanted to ask you before, but I was trying very hard to show you I wasn’t interested in you,” I say.

His smile kicks up into a grin. “You know, you might have done a better job if I couldn’t feel you staring at my ass all the time.”

My cheeks burn. “I was not staring at your ass all the time.”

“No,” he concedes so easily, I’m instantly suspicious. “It was that or my chest.”

I part my lips to lie.

He raises a brow as if daring me to deny it.

I rest my cheek on his chest with a loud sigh. “Okay, fine. There might have been some staring on the rare occasion.”

His chest rumbles with his laugh. “Rare occasion? You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart.”

“That’s all you’re getting,” I say, and then I tilt my head up so I can meet his eye. “I want to know more about you.”

“I had a pack in Oregon.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, I didn’t just have one. I led it. Was that the kind of stuff you wanted to know?”

I nod. “You said before. If you led it, then why don’t you have one now?” Too late, I recall the reason I don’t have a pack and wish I could stuff my question back inside. “Oh, did they die? Should I change the subject?”

He flashes me a brief smile. “No one died. Everyone is alive and kicking. I check in with my pack and my family every week or so.”

His admission leaves me more confused than ever. “But alphas don’t just walk away from their pack unless something is wrong. Weren’t you happy?”

He tugs my head down to rest on his shoulder and starts drawing small circles on my lower back. “I was happy enough. Or content enough would be more accurate.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“That should be obvious, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

I lift my eyes to his. “It isn’t.”

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