An Alpha's Desire Read online

  “Fuck. I can just about hear her saying the same thing.”

  “Brains. You like ‘em smart. But brawns? That means she’d be smart enough to tell you the truth about yourself. What's her name? Spill the details?”

  I chuckle softly. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Aka, she doesn't take your shit?”

  I change the subject, “You act as if I'm some sort of dictator.”

  “You are the sweetest person I know. Trust me, that's a compliment. Though I'm introverted, I've worked with some real sociopaths.”

  I scoff. Juliet doesn't have much to gauge her argument with. She has a love for the ocean and spends her weekends working at the Long Beach Aquarium in the shark exhibit while working on her doctoral degree in marine biology. Against my request, she has decided to work. She wouldn’t even move into this home we found for her until I had told her a thousand times that the funds to purchase it came from other investments and not Titan Airways. “I appreciate your comparing me to aggressive mammals.”

  “You're more than welcome. Now, you’re aware of the drill. Give me a name? I’m a visualizer.”

  “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “So, did you scope her out from afar on the playground?” Juliet gives a boisterous laugh while turning toward the refrigerator which matches the oak wood cupboards.

  “Playground? Really?” I reach over and take the beer she just opened, then let it chug into the sink.

  “Grrrr. You don't drink or smoke. Daniel, for someone who has been given everything, you don’t do anything.”

  “Yeah, and you're not even twenty-one. Don't make me search your hiding spots for pot.”

  “Weed is totally legal here, bro. So, don’t try me.” Her eyes are lit with fire as I glare hard, testing her to cross me. She turns around and opens the cupboard for plates.

  “So seriously, you don't know the woman’s name?”

  “Not at the moment. I will soon.”

  As we eat, I inquire, “How is your thesis coming along?”

  “Very well. Thank you for the feedback you offered a few weeks ago. Sometimes I get wrapped up in one variable and forget to see the bigger picture.”

  I nod, chewing on the pizza with Italian sausage, bell peppers, and onions.

  “The world would be a happier place if there were more Daniels. You, my brother, are a saint.”

  “Nah, not me.”

  “People love you. I sit back in the cut, observing and analyzing a single person's every move. But I can’t even determine why. People are cutthroat. You think folks are afraid of sharks, fuck that, humans are more venomous. You, on the other hand, deescalate shit. You turn enemies into allies, you engage them and help them.”

  “I don't do much engaging people. At least not as much as I'd like. I'm too busy working the statistics and dynamics of Titan Aerospace, ensuring that everyone does their part.”

  “Why? You have upper management for that. Besides the women you give the world to, your idea of a vacation is learning how to build houses in Alaska, or other ghastly places extremely hot or cold I wouldn’t go for vacation, and you call that work vacation.”

  “Shhh,” I joke. We used to do that when grandfather was around. Wentworth I believed in intelligence and paying for manual labor. “There isn't much time for it, Jules. I haven’t been on a mission in a few months now. Besides, I’ve been busy at Titan. Not everyone on the team is for you.”

  “What? I say do what you love. Why the hell else would I be working on a PhD? And why have someone on your team who doesn't have your best interests at hand?”

  “Whoa, whoa, with the questions. And c’mon, fathead. You've heard of the term keep your enemies close.” I consider the board members. Not all of them are for me, and Wentworth I would have it no other way than to keep me on my toes.

  “I swear if you call me fathead one more time!”

  “It's either that or brainiac. Jules, what's your schedule?”

  “Monday-Wednesday class all day. Tuesday-Thursday, I do my best to dedicate to my thesis. At least I try. Why, are you staying a while?”

  “I—

  “Tell me you'll stay. Daniel, this is going to be totally awesome.”

  ###

  The next morning, I return Azalea’s call after a simple debriefing with the board meeting.

  “Daniel, I received the earrings from Tiffany’s a week back. They were lovely!” she begins, the sort to abhor opening discussion on dire news. She then brings up Jada. “Let me assure you that Jada has been dealt with.”

  “What was her motive?”

  “She claims that she's fallen in love with you. I'm in Quebec as we speak. I had a stern talk with her. She admitted to a camera in the room that she had intentions of going back for. But just to uncover your identity, and seek you out. Nothing more.”

  My jaw clenches. Jada had always been my favorite. Azalea apologizes profusely.

  “All right, I believe you.”

  “She is on probation. And I'll have another round of interviews if you'd like to have her replaced.”

  “No, thank you. That won't be necessary. Who is the young woman I met yesterday afternoon?”

  “My…niece. Besides Whitley, she is the only one who knows of your identity. Really, I've attempted to get her interested in the business for a time when I would like to retire.”

  “Your niece?” My heart deflates. I have too much admiration for Azalea to add her great niece to my conquests no matter how well I treat them.

  “Yes.”

  “What's her name?”

  “I see how this might seem one-sided her knowing of your identity but she swore me to secrecy. I asked if she has been rude with you. If she has, I'll have her do no less than apologize to your face. It’s been ages since I've had to. Lord knows, she needs it...in certain regards.”

  “No, issues. On the contrary, I would like to see her again.”

  “So you’re interested in my niece, Daniel?”

  “Yes, Madame. And that leads me to my next request. Give Jada the deed to her home. Scarlett will have her deed as well. Ari, continue with her annual educational payment until she’s graduated.”

  “You'd like me to give Jada the deed as well? After what's she's done?”

  “Yeah.” I bite my lip, recalling how her caresses had changed over our time. Falling in love was also against the rules, but I’m not callous enough to believe it wasn’t possible.

  “Are we parting ways, Daniel?”

  “Yes. I must go shopping for them and you as well, so no farewell just yet. Now, will you tell me your niece’s name?”

  She chuckles softly. “I admire you, Daniel. To be truthful, she would have passed your requirements with flying colors. Nevertheless, her helping hand isn’t resume worthy with regard to time served at a certain organization or charity.”

  My palms begin to sweat as I listen to her description. Azalea paints her niece into a sweet image. Hell, her gorgeous, heart-shaped face comes to mind. And then I recall those lips. Fuck me, I don’t mind the confusion she has of me. We can work out those kinks.

  “But unfortunately, a promise is a promise. Also, she is searching for a man like her father. I can, of course, offer you one kind word, seeing that I know you have a good heart too.”

  A man like her father? What kind word can you offer? “And what's that?”

  “Elite.”

  “Elite…” I repeat.

  “That is all, Daniel.”

  We hang up.

  Elite. Elite. What the fuck is Elite?

  I ascend the stairs and knock on Juliet’s door. “Juliet, Jules, Jules?”

  No answer. I knock again. She's lived in Los Angeles for a while now, and possibly can steer me in the correct direction.

  The door opens. Tightly pulled eyes, barely open begin to pull awake. Jet black hair bristles up in a short buzz cut. A white t-shirt almost blends in with his skin tone.

  “Who the fuck are you?�
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  “Lee…oh wow, you're Jules’ brother.” The Japanese man extends a hand. My eyes narrow. That's the nickname I use.

  I glare past him as Juliet comes into a folded leg position. “Wentworth III, don't be an asshole to my company.”

  “My house.”

  “Whatever. Did you find out the woman's name who gingerly picked you up and set you in your place?” Even half sleep, Juliet is a nuisance. Her hair is disheveled and the epitome of chaos.

  “I'm on it. What's Elite?”

  “Elite?” They both seem to mumble in inquiry.

  “Elite,” I say with more force as if a harsh tone will offer additional clues.

  “Elite what?” Juliet asks.

  I glare at Lee. If he's able to decipher this, he may very well become the first, of many, boyfriends that Juliet has that I accept.

  “Google, bro, Google.” Lee nods.

  And that's exactly what I do. As soon as I step out of the room, I slide my cell phone from my pocket and press the internet application. The first search option is Wikipedia which offers the Latin historical aspect of the word. The next is dictionary followed by some company in New York.

  No, not New York. I add Los Angeles to the search engine. ELITE event planning comes up. I click the website and toward the bottom of the associates tab is a woman who could learn a thing or two from me.

  Desire Taylor.

  I won't call her today. I'll make her wait, and appear when she least expects it.

  Desire

  Ever had one of those dreams where you know that you’re dreaming, yet it seems oh so very real? I’m dressed in red lace that clings against all these hips and ass, while lying in the middle of a luxurious bed. I feel so gorgeous, I feel like the epitome of sex. But everything screams in me not to give it up to none other than Daniel Rutledge.

  “On the contrary, Desire. I love a bad girl. Act the fuck out.” His mouth is inches from mine.

  My hand is seconds from slapping the white off him. But his eyes are locked onto mine, and he’s snagged his bottom lip between his teeth. I have never had a man so territorial, and my pussy jumps.

  There’s an amused heat in Daniel’s eyes before his mouth descends onto mine. Daniel’s mouth dominates mine, and there's no amount of shame I can cling to. Because he's warm. His body is solid, rough, whereas mine is soft, delicate. And his hands grab and stake claim to the thickness of my ass. The fireworks shooting from my ass, zap straight to my nether regions.

  “You want to be bad for me,” Daniel whispers against my lips, picking me up and placing me in his lap. Now my breasts spill forth as I look down at him.

  Though I’m on top, damn it, I’m not confused in the least. He has ultimate power. He places a hand behind his head, forearm flexed, and leans up somewhat. Thumb titillating slow as it draws over my clitoris and voice just as leisurely, Daniel says, “You’re like a ripe peach, and I want to sink my teeth right into your sweetness.”

  My mouth waters to his words.

  “Desire, you ready to be bad for me?”

  “Ye-yes—”

  The instant the word is out of my mouth, the sound of cloth shredding down my chest is barbaric in my ears. Daniel’s lips fly to my neck. My brain melts into pure nothingness, leaving only one ability: craving.

  His mouth plants a luscious trail down to my breast. Between his good, heady scent and the deliberate taste of his mouth against my skin, my nerves are standing on end, raw, exposed. My breasts swell, nipples tease out at him like Hershey's Kisses for his sole delight. I shiver in my beautiful brown skin, and my body tightens in places I have long ago abandoned.

  “Shit, you are beautiful.” He paws one breast while placing his mouth over the other. He works my body with big, strong fingers with callused pads which seem to have seen a hard day’s work. I swallow hard, heavy-lidded gaze never leaving his.

  “You do these fucking things to me.” He seems to grin hard at that, gaze sparkling and mischievous and peering straight through me.

  My hardened nipples shoot fireworks down to a valley which lay dormant for ages. Then Daniel squeezes both of my tits together, face in the middle. His baritone voice is slightly moved as he softly says, “I've been wanting to do that since day one. There are so many things we have to try.”

  His mouth is over mine in an instant, leaving my brain in crash mode. What we must try… Daniel makes it sound like sex with him will be like an experience I have never had.

  “You think I'm a nasty man?” he asks between biting the thickness of my bottom lip. “Desire, tell me I'm a nasty motherfucker and you want to be fucked.”

  Where are these other hands coming from? It feels like my body is on fire. He wedges himself between my thighs.

  “Tell me how dirty you think I am. Baby, I'm nastier than your wildest fucking dreams.”

  His tongue swirls around mine leaving me panting, breathless, dizzy. How does he still have a voice? A delectable, baritone. “Desire.” Every time he says my name, I cream a little more. “If you want me to fuck you sideways, let me know.”

  “Screw me any-fucking-way you'd like…”

  ###

  I cannot attest to what transpires in dreams. “Nightmare more like it,” I quip, digging through my jewelry box for appropriate accessories to a red pencil skirt that hugs every curve, and a cream-colored blouse.

  But I gave him the cold shoulder, which is the norm with men like him.

  “Don't hate the player, hate the game.” I murmur a ‘wise’ old adage, plucking up a pair of pearl earrings my father bought me a few Valentines back.

  Yes, my dad. Dr. James Taylor, Chief of Cardiology at Los Angeles Kaiser. I want a husband like my father, and I will not settle for any less. No rappers. No thugs. No white boys. No men who aren't highly esteemed and pass the paper-bag challenge. Now I just need to forget the dream I had last night with Daniel.

  I huff, pushing my manicured toes into a pair of my most expensive designer shoes. I kick the stiletto off. No need to impress. I'll never see him again.

  “And I'm not trying to impress anyone.” I speak the words into existence. I'm not some crazed lunatic who often indulges in monologues and talks to herself, but damn it I need to hear it. Speaking makes it concrete.

  “No more Wentworth Dan—” I pause. I really have got to get the bite out of my tone when saying his full name.

  “No boys.” I glance at myself in my full-length mirror. Yessss. Too damn cute to waste beauty and success on any ol’ body.

  The instant I step out of my bedroom, the innate confidence my parents taught me plunges to low. Lauren has the guest bedroom across from my master suite. It's silent as a mouse inside.

  Riley has spent the night on enough occasions, and I'm already sure he's just about dressed. This has happened before. The last time Lauren needed a place to stay, I swore it would be my last. The time before? I made similar promises too.

  I tap softly on the door, and then open it. She is a hard sleeper.

  Tarantula eyes look up from the silk pillow sheet that is no doubt stained with facial foundation of a beige hue. My head cocks just so. “Can you get up and take your child to school?”

  “I thought you would, seeing that you're headed out.” Lauren shrugs. “But if you need me to—”

  “First of all, Riley’s school isn't nearby. There's one week left before school is out. So that means a handful of days for you to get up on time, Lauren. We had this conversation the very night you moved in—”

  “I know, Desire. I'm trying.”

  Lauren begins with an excuse. I see red! But a split second later, I hear Riley closing the second guest bedroom door down the hall. He rounds the corner, so I choose not to continue the conversation in his presence.

  “How were basketball tryouts?” I ask since I had a late evening at work due to assisting another associate with an unforeseen issue with an event today.

  “What tryouts?” Lauren mumbles, head already kissing the pillow.
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br />   I cock my head toward the stairs so he can follow. Should have asked out of her sight. Hell will freeze over before I help Lauren pay her rent again. And I was going to lie and say he got into the basketball program for free, and sneak a quick check to the camp if he wasn’t selected for a grant.

  “I was the last of five.”

  “Dangggg,” I exaggerate and he laughs. Whew! That would have been a pretty penny to pay.

  “I'm going to drop you off at school.”

  “Why? You're supposed to be at work at nine. You had it noted on your calendar to buy breakfast for Lacy. I don't want to make you late again.”

  “That's very observant. How did you know I was late yesterday?”

  “Lauren told me.”

  It irks me that their bond is so fragile Lauren has her child call her by her name. And it fucking eats me alive that she would tell him something I argued with her about. It wasn’t his fault that I was late to work. This trick should place more interest in her child.

  I wave him off. “I was a few minutes late. I'm taking you to school.” No breakfast for my coworkers. I'll just take them to lunch. And hightail it to work.

  ###

  Over the next few days, the “nightmares” dissolve from my mind. On Sunday, I attend West Angels Church with Bishop Charles Blake—clapping my hands, stomping my feet, and shaking my damn head until I almost sweat my relaxer out just to appeal to the Holy Spirit for two things: totally erase Daniel from my mind and send me a God-fearing man.

  Riley is right beside me in the pew. He even pulls out a few dollars from the money I gave him at the beginning of the week to pay his tithes.

  My heart warms for him.

  Sunday afternoon, he heads with me to my parents’ home in Pacific Palisades for dinner.

  Mom stirs a big pot of greens. My mom, Monique, has a butterscotch complexion, with her light brown hair in twisties. When I was a girl, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Well, her and Aunt Azalea. Mom is smiling at Riley as he sets the table in the adjoining dining room.

  She silently mouths, “You need to have a child.”