Page 17 of The Denver Alpha

She winks and my dick punches at my zipper. Which is an odd fucking reaction to have when I’m hovering on the precipice of blowing up on her. Juliet needs to be put in her place, learn that I won’t tolerate her manipulative power games or disrespect. I’m the one in charge here. She should be on her knees.

Fuck, now I’m picturing her on her knees.

Nope. Not gonna happen.

She’s too young.

She’s Jax’s sister.

She’s a spoiled fucking brat who’s just trying to bait me and throw me off my game.

I don’t know what it is about her- it’s like she was put here just to tempt me, to upend the strict order in my life and unravel the tight web of control that I’ve spent years building.

I won’t allow that to happen.

“Just put some clothes on before coming to breakfast,” I mutter, turning away.

“Jeez, you’re moody for a guy who just got laid.”

I stutter a step, pivoting back around. “Excuse me?”

“Your girlfriend was out here,” Juliet shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. She squints, tapping her finger against her chin. “Taylor something?”

Fucking Tayla.

I can’t contain my eyeroll. Tayla pissed me the fuck off last night when I returned home to find her loitering outside my bedroom door, claiming I agreed to her spending the night. She knows no women are permitted in my space, yet she tried to test my boundaries nonetheless, forcing me to send her whining and pouting to a guest room for the evening. Learning that she was out here this morning trying to stir shit up pisses me off even more.

I’m a man with needs. At the top of that list is maintaining strict order in my pack, my duties as Alpha taking precedence over all else. The job comes with stress, so I’ve found various ways to work that off. Shifting and going for a run. Working out in the packhouse gym. Fucking.

Being the meticulously organized guy I am, I generally don’t fuck women at random, regardless of whatever urges may strike. I have a few regular hookups, each of them well aware of the boundaries within our relationships and the fact that they’re purely physical. That’s why there’s always more than one in my rotation- so they don’t get the wrong idea about things or get too attached. They also know that I value my privacy, which is why Tayla should know better than to talk about what we do behind closed doors. Hearing that she’s been running her mouth to Juliet irritates the fuck out of me.

Juliet clocks my reaction to her accusation, her lips curling up at the corners like she’s satisfied that she managed to get under my skin. But fuck that. I saw the look on her face when she asked about Tayla, and two can play that game.

I move closer, invading her space and casting a shadow over her with my much larger stature. My nostrils flare when her coconut and lilac scent hits my nose, her eyes widening as I pin her under my stare. “Careful, Juliet,” I murmur. “Keep making comments like that and a guy might think you’re jealous.”

She doesn’t move away, doesn’t back down. Instead, she arches a brow in challenge, reaching out and trailing her fingertips down my abdomen. It’s a featherlight touch that tickles my skin through the fabric of my shirt. “Maybe I am.” Her eyes flicker down to the obvious bulge in the front of my slacks.

My dick twitches at the attention.

Jesus.

My desire and common sense are at war with one another, forcing me to be the first to fold. I shake my head to dispel my thoughts, backing away from her. “Not gonna happen,” I growl.

Juliet just shrugs, completely unphased. “Your loss.”

It is. It really,reallyis.

She throws the towel over her shoulder, spinning around and strutting away. I bite down on the inside of my cheek as I watch her peachy little ass wiggle from side to side with every sway of her hips, mentally berating myself for staring yet unable to stop.

I hate how I react to Juliet like I’m a horny teenage boy again. Though if I was, at least it’d be more acceptable. I’m a grown ass man, so the fact that a nineteen year old girl has this effect on me is entirely inappropriate. I can’t remember the last time I had to fight this hard to keep my baser urges in check.

Once Juliet’s out of sight, I take a moment to collect myself before heading inside and to the kitchen to meet Sam for our morning debrief over coffee. As always, a steaming mug is waiting for me at my seat, and I slide into it with a huff, snatching up the cup and taking a sip. The liquid inside scalds my tongue and I flinch back, hissing a curse through my teeth and slamming the mug back onto the table.

“Rough night?” Sam asks carefully.

I grunt in response, slouching back on my chair and glaring daggers at the coffee cup; like it purposefully burned my mouth.

“Jason seems to be doing well at Jokers,” Sam comments, blowing past my foul mood to get right down to business. “If that place is always as packed as it was last night, it’s going to be a gold mine. We may want to consider adding more bar staff to keep up.”

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