Page 48 of Alpha Gray

“I’d rather stand,” Fallon replies, folding her arms and reclining against the door.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck with a hand. Is she trying to provoke me by copping an attitude?

Keep it together, Gray.

“Look, I heard about what happened last night,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, and even more sorry that we haven’t caught the rogue yet. We’ll catch him, but we’re gonna need your help.”

Fallon’s mood immediately shifts- she drops her arms and pushes off of the door, standing at attention. She may be pissed at me, but her impulse to assist the squad in catching the rogue overrides it. “Yeah, of course. How can I help?”

I gesture to the chair in front of me again, and this time, she walks over and sinks down into it. God, she smells so fucking good. I already feel a little scrambled being in her proximity, so I head around to the opposite side of my desk, putting the necessary space between us for me to think straight. I take a seat and slide forward, leaning my elbows onto the wood surface of the desktop.

“You’re the only one who has gotten close to him. What do you remember? Did anything jump out to you about the way he looked, the way he smelled?”

Fallon tilts her head and looks up at the ceiling, chewing on her lip as she thinks. Her contemplative pose is cute as hell.

“He smelled really bad,” she begins, wrinkling her nose. “Like… sour garbage. It was really overwhelming. His wolf was silver, and he was dirty, feral looking…”

She leans back in her chair and raises a hand to her chin, thinking again. Then her eyes widen, as if she’s recalled something important.

“He had a scar,” she says, leaning forward. “It was up over his eye.” She gestures to her own forehead in a slashing motion.

With our shifter healing, scars are extremely rare. You basically have to be beaten within an inch of your life to carry a scar- be so close to death that your shifter healing can’t catch up.

“That’s helpful. Thank you.” I’ll have to call up the alphas from the other packs in the state to ask if they’ve ever encountered this guy before. Maybe he was exiled from one of their packs, and if we can confirm who he is, we may have better luck finding leads to track him down.

I push my chair back, rising to my feet again. “Well, that’s all I need for now,” I breathe.

Fallon cocks an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

She’s definitely trying to provoke me.

“I already told you this has to stay professional,” I grumble.

She darts her eyes away from me, but not before I catch the pained look in them.

Fuck.

I make my way to the door, setting my hand on the knob before I turn back to her.

“Look, I just think it’s best…” I start, but Fallon waves me off as she rises to stand.

“I know, I know.” She steps around the chair and walks to the door, stopping and peering up at me as I stand in front of it. “You gonna let me leave?” she asks.

I don’t want her to leave, not really. My wolf surges to the surface, at war with my human side. I just stare back at her.

My hand’s on the doorknob, and I should turn it, pull the door open. Instead, I click the lock.

I hear her draw a short gasp, but before she can respond I’m on her, covering her mouth with mine. She starts to push me away at first, but then I feel her giving in, her body relaxing, her lips parting. I devour her kiss like a starving man, my need for her insatiable. I wrap an arm around her waist to pull her in and her body crashes against mine, the contact of our skin sending a wave of explosive heat through my body.

Mine.

I spin her around, pinning her between myself and the door as my hands start roaming her beautiful body. I pull at her tank top, breaking my kiss to yank it off over her head. Her gorgeous tits are on full display for me, an appreciative growl starting in my chest as I reach out with both hands, roughly kneading them. They’re a perfect handful, with pert little peach-tipped nipples. Fucking perfect, just like her.

Fallon starts clawing at my shirt and I reach backwards over my head to tear it off, tossing it to the floor. She touches me, scoring the front of my chest with her fingernails, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. The scent of her arousal floods my nose as she leans forward, planting little kisses on my chest with those plush lips of hers.

I should stop this, but I’m frenzied with need, incapable of rational thought. Especially when her hands cruise down to work open the button on my pants and she starts to sink to her knees.

Holy fuck. Am I dreaming right now?

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