Page 51 of Psycho Alphas: Part One

I crossed to the kitchenette, opening the fridge and rooting around to check on the leftovers.

Rogue would never admit to being a good cook, but he was—and he enjoyed it, too. Sometimes I made him make me shit instead of getting it from the staff, but I knew for a fact he made sure it sucked—and probably spat in it. But when did that ever hurt anyone?

Nah.

Way to get the best food around here was to steal it from Rogue’s kitchen directly. I did it sparingly, though, since otherwise he’d get discouraged and stop cooking altogether.

Sure enough, there was a damned good-looking cheese pasta in here.

I pulled it out, grabbing a fork from the drawer, and decided it looked like it would taste just as good unheated.

I could practically feel the honied bourbon simmering in the air from his poorly contained irritation at my rummaging. He might do what he was told, but the benefit of keeping an Alpha on the brink of feral is that their territorial instincts never truly died.

As I passed him on the couch, I plucked the headset from his head, tucking it around my neck instead, the tinny sound of race cars echoing in my ears.

Rogue growled, fist balling on the controller, and he crashed in the game.

“So,” I said, dropping back onto the couch. “Did you rub one out to that picture?”

He ignored me.

He had, though—hadto have. That was a picture of his mate, and he was on the edge of losing his fucking mind.

I picked out a stray tomato (hated them anyway) and flicked it at him, grinning as it made a satisfying splat on his cheek, flecking his sandstone skin with cheese sauce.

He went absolutely still, every muscle of his huge frame taut with fury as he, so very slowly, picked the tomato from his face. It looked like the most difficult thing in the world for him, flicking it on the concrete at his side, and not whipping it straight back at me.

Finally, those burning teal eyes met mine through loose waves of white hair that tumbled to just below his eyebrows.

“Don’t you think,” he said, teeth gritted. “You might be a littleover-investedin making me part of your sex life?”

“Probably,” I chuckled, taking a bite of pasta. “I’m about one bad hormone storm from making you hide in the closet while I fuck her.”

I straightened.

Actually…

“Damn.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

A grin was spreading on my face. “What if she didn’t know? God, and she’s so hot and bratty.”

He seemed closer to fighting my commands than he had in a while, but he couldn’t. Not really. We’d already pushed that boundary a million times, and no matter how it played out, all paths led to this.

Rogue chose chains instead of death, and he knew I had no issue letting him die. So that was that.

“If I tell you, will you drop it?” he asked. “Keep your fucked up sex ideas to your goddamned dreams.”

“Tell me what?”

“If I…” He wrinkled his nose. “Jacked off to the picture you sent.”

Damn. “Deal.”

“Four times.”

I laughed. “You think she’s hot.”

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