Page 56 of The Alpha Under My Bed

The warmth of her body seeped through my jacket, her arms tightening around my waist as the wind rushed past us, cool and crisp with the scent of rain from earlier in the day. The hum of the engine vibrated through both of us—steady, rhythmic—the only sound between us besides the occasional shift of her grip or the tiny, involuntary noises she made when we took a turn a little too fast.

She trusted me to keep her safe.

She had no idea how deep that trust had already sunk its teeth into her.

The roads were mostly empty at this hour, the streetlights casting long, golden beams across the pavement, flickering against the dark leather of my gloves. The city around us blurred into moving shadows—neon signs flickering in shop windows, the distant glow of headlights cutting through the night. It smelled like wet pavement, a lingering trace of ozone, and something sugary in the air, probably from a bakery down the street cooling its last batch of pastries for the night.

Ellie shifted against me, adjusting her hold, and her thighs pressed tighter against my hips.

I gritted my teeth, my grip flexing around the handlebars as I forced my focus back on the road.

Not on her scent. Not on her heat-warmed body flush against mine. Not on the fact that under that skirt, my belt was still locked tight around her waist, keeping her stuffed withme.

The idea hit me in the gut like a fist, a dark, possessive wave of satisfaction curling up inside my chest.

Was she still wet?

Still holding on to the last of my release from her heat?

Fuck.

I wanted to take her home.

Lay her out on my bed, spread her open,see for myself. I wanted to know if she’d shudder when she saw the new mess I’d left inside her, if her thighs would tremble when I traced my fingers through it, pushed it back inside her, told her how good she was for keeping it safe for me.

Would she cry?

Would she whimper, embarrassed, as I kissed away her protests and praised her for doing exactly what she wasmeantto do?

Would she understand?

Would she finally fucking understand?

My jaw ticked as I forced my thoughts into submission, easing up on the throttle as the food truck park came into view ahead.

A cluster of glowing string lights hung overhead, zigzagging between the trucks, illuminating the area in a warm, golden haze. Music drifted from a small live band playing near the seating area—soft guitar, easygoing, something meant to settle people into comfortable conversation.

The scent of food hit me first.

Grilled meat sizzling over open flames, fried dough drenched in sugar, warm spices mingling with the crisp evening air. Itwas the kind of place that made your stomach growl even if you weren’t hungry, the mix of flavors and heat clinging to your skin the second you stepped into it.

I pulled into a space near the entrance, cutting the engine.

Ellie practically peeled herself off the back of the bike, muttering under her breath as she tugged at her skirt, trying to smooth it down.

“Survive?” I asked, watching her struggle to regain her dignity.

She shot me a withering glare. “Barely.”

I smirked, unbuckling my own helmet. “You’re dramatic.”

“I had to ride in askirt.”

“And yet,” I gestured to her, grinning, “your ass is still covered. Impressive.”

Ellie groaned, yanking her helmet off and running a hand through her hair, shaking it out. “I’m getting a funnel cake. And if you try to stop me, I’m slashing your tires.”

I chuckled, tucking my gloves into my pocket as I followed her toward the maze of food trucks.

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