Page 12 of The Denver Alpha

My body buzzes in response to her touch, but her explanation makes my scowl deepen.

“You don’t like it?” she probes, a teasing lilt to her tone.

“No.”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Well it suits you. Alpha seems too formal, plus it reminds me of my dad. So I figured I’d come up with an alternative.”

“You can call me Cole.”

“I like Sarge better.” She pats my chest, smiling up at me like this is all some game to her.

I almost fall for it, too. She’s got me so damn twisted up and agitated that all I can think of is hauling her up to the manager’s office, bending her over the desk, and fucking the bratty attitude right out of her.

She’d fucking like it. She’s goading me, trying to get under my skin, not even trying to hide her intentions. Every little touch, every little brush of her body against mine, tells me exactly what she wants. Hell, I want it, too.

But I can’t fucking go there. Not with her, not ever.

There’s only one thing to do when my control is wearing this thin, and that’s to walk away. Without uttering another word, I turn on a heel, stalking away from the girl that makes my damn head spin and aiming for the back exit.

By some stroke of luck, that’s when I spot Sam. He’s got an arm slung around Shay’s shoulders, eyeing me with concern as I storm away from Juliet.

“Get Juliet out of here,” I snap to my beta, leveling him with a stern gaze.

It’s an order, one I know he’ll follow through with. Sam never lets me down.

He nods in confirmation and with that, I continue to the exit, not hazarding a backwards glance.

Because if I do, I’m not sure I can stop myself from acting on the fantasy playing over and over again in my mind right now, and I need to shut that shit down.

Before I do something I’m bound to regret.

6

The smell of chlorine clings to my little sky-blue bikini as I pull it on, and I make a mental note to ask Shay if she’s up for a shopping trip soon so I can pick up some more swimsuits. I only tossed one into my suitcase while I was packing for Denver on the off chance that there was a swimming hole nearby; it never occurred to me that there’d be a whole ass swimming pool right outside my door. It’s late in the season so my pool days are probably numbered, but with the chance to swim every day until the weather turns, one suit just isn’t going to cut it.

As I’m reaching behind my back to tie the strings of my bikini, my cell phone vibrates on the nightstand, my brother’s name flashing on the screen with an incoming video call. My gut twists and my heart plummets. What are the chances that word of my little excursion to the nightclub has already gotten back to my overbearing big bro?

I snatch my phone up and flop forward on my bed, landing on my tummy and positioning the phone in front of my face while I plaster on a bright smile and hit the answer button.

“Hey Jaxy!” I chirp when his handsome mug appears on the screen, hoping like hell that my internal panic isn’t written all over my face.

An easy smile stretches his lips. “Hey Jules, how’s it going?” Jax drawls, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair. It’s a couple of shades darker than my own blonde, but the family resemblance between us is still strong. We’ve got the same warm skin tone, nearly identical pale blue eyes, and our smiles are like a mirror image.

“Good,” I reply tentatively, keeping my cool even though my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. “What’s up?”

I hold my breath, my mind spinning. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to taunt Cole last night at the club, but it never occurred to me that he’d go and tattle to my brother. Who else could it have been? Only Cole and Sam really know Jax, and Shay swore that Sam wouldn’t say anything.

I should’ve known better, but when I ran into Cole last night and he was being all growly and domineering, I couldn’t help but poke the bear. Because first of all, that big alpha energy is a huge fucking turn-on, and second, the man looked good enough to eat in a black button-down, his muscles bulging against the fabric and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I’m a sucker for bulky, veiny forearms, and his are damn lickable.

I’ll bet he tastes like cinnamon.

There’s just something about the guy that draws me in, like my energy is attracted to his in some inexplicable way. His eyes, his demeanor, his scent… I can’t put my finger on what it is, exactly. There’s no way I confused the signals he was putting off, either. I felt the subtle tremble of his body against mine when I danced on him, saw the gold hue in his dark irises when his wolf peeked out. Whether or not he’ll admit it, he’s just as drawn to me as I am to him. But if he tattled to Jax about me going out last night, we’re going to have a huge fucking problem.

“Nothin’, just checking in,” Jax replies coolly, and I release the breath I was holding in a whoosh of relief.

Real subtle, Jules.

“How are you settling in?” he questions nonchalantly.

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