Page 83 of Step Alpha

I get my phone out of my pocket and text Lincoln as Wilde looks over my shoulder.

I need to tell you something. The reason I hesitated when you asked me to the dance,I type.

“Damn straight,” Wilde mutters behind me.

It’s because there’s actually something between me and my stepbrother. Obvs that’s on the DL. But I wanted you to know. And I talked to him, and he’s cool with you taking me

“Happy?” I ask Wilde.

He takes the phone from me and pulls me on top of him. “I wouldn't say happy,” he grumbles. His hands stroke up and down the sides of my body. “Actually, I take that back. I am happy.”

It’s true. He looks happy. There’s a lazy smile on his face, and the thought that it might be because of me makes my heart pound.

“What are the other two conditions?”

“Two: After the dance I get to spank his scent off you.”

“I’m not sure that’s how smells work.”

Wilde arches a stern brow.

I flush. This guy really likes to spank me. It’s kinda daunting, kinda hot. “Okay. And the third?

“Third condition is I fuck you before and after you go.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m dead serious. Do we have a deal?”

I nod and smile. “Deal.”

He kisses the bridge of my nose. It’s a surprisingly tender move, and it sends flutters through me.

“We should get back. I have to make dinner.”

Wilde groans. “I don’t want to wash your scent off.”

I realize, with a flip of my belly, that I don’t want that, either. His scent soothes me. Grounds me. I feel changed.

I’m not sure I ever bought the idea that a female was changed by losing her virginity. I mean, that’s just some patriarchal bullshit put in place to ensure the transfer of property to heirs. But I do feel different.

Stronger. Invigorated. Enlivened.

Maybe that has nothing to do with virginity and everything to do with the orgasm?

No, wait. I’ve orgasmed before–by myself and with Wilde. It’s just that this was my first P in V sex.

Could it be…his cum?

“Come on, jellybean.” Wilde scoops me up, lifting me into the air at the same time he crawls off the bed. He carries me to the bathroom where he sets me down and turns on the shower.

“I’d better keep my hair dry.” I pull my hair off my nape and hold it off my shoulders as I step in. ”It will be hard to explain why it’s wet.”

Wilde soaps me down, then sends me out of the shower while he quickly rinses off. “Let’s pick up some rotisserie chickens,” he suggests as we both quickly get dressed. “Also, I hate that you’re in charge of making dinner. What in the hell is that about? Like you’re some kind of fucking Cinderella or something?”

I work hard not to smile, absurdly pleased by his assessment. “I’m trying to contribute to the household.”

Wilde’s face contorts into a look of scorn. “Fuck that, Rayne. Take up space.”

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