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Hunted By My Alpha

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Kapitel 1: CHAPTER 1Wolf in the Grass

~ CARA ~

“Shit.”

I fumbled the keys, swearing as they made a shiny little arc towards the floor and jangled when they hit the carpet. I had to take a second to close my eyes and breathe before reaching down to pick them up and hurry out from behind the reception desk to the little alcove around the corner to the tiny dungeon of a back office. Then, when I tried to plug the key into the door, it just swung open anyway. Someone had left it unlocked. My boss was going to shoot me if anyone had vandalized it again.

This day just kept getting better and better.

With another muttered curse, I shoved the door open and turned to reach for the light. The library was one of the oldest buildings on campus, and this office had never been updated. The light switch was a cord that hung from the ceiling and had to be given a sharp tug, otherwise it wouldn’t click. And because this room was a cave—no windows, no light at all except the single, naked bulb in the ceiling—without that light the room was a black hole.

My eyes hadn’t adjusted from the bright fluorescent light of the library lobby, so when I turned, swiping my arm to try and find that stinking cord, I couldn’t see a damned thing.

When a warm presence appeared out of the shadows and a deep, honeyed voice whispered, “There you are,” it scared me so badly, I sucked in to scream.

There was a single, shining second where my brain registered the most heavenly scent—a male cologne like I had never smelled before. It hit the back of my throat and seemed to spread through my veins, sending all my lady parts dancing and sizzling in places that hadn’t sizzled… well, ever, really.

Stunned, I just stood there gaping as one large, warm hand slid to my neck, the thumb tracing my cheek, and another appeared at my waist, squeezing gently.

My hands instinctively went to his chest to push him away, but before I could think, I was pressed into the wall behind me and a pair of full, masculine lips and a buttery soft jaw found my mouth.

I sucked in again, but that smell… it was like walking through a pine forest at twilight—warm grass, damp earth, something distinctly masculine yet otherwise indefinable.

His lips dragged across mine, featherlight at first, then harder as he cupped my face, turning my chin up.

Wrapped in that scent and skin tingling and warm, all the hairs in my arms standing up, the temptation was there to simply sink into the heavenly kiss, to tease those lips back and taste the warm depths of him. Then his tongue found mine and my breath shuddered.

He gave a low chuckle that I felt in my belly and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, pressing one knee between mine. And the hand at my waist slid back, then down… under the waistband of my jeans.

Which was when I blinked and woke up.

Forgetting his scent, ignoring the tingling low in my belly—and definitely stifling the urge to grind against that hard thigh pressed between mine—I reminded myself what was happening.

There was a large, male stranger who’d hidden himself in the back office, and he was kissing me. In fairness, it was better than I’d ever been kissed before. But that wasn’t the point.

The point. There was a point. I had a point… oh, right.

Twisting my face away, I made myself release his shirt that I’d fisted and swung one hand as hard as I could against his cheek. “Get off me, asshole!”

The slap rang in the dark room and he jerked back with a curse. “What the fuck, Hannah?”

“My name isn’t Hannah, Mister Grabby-Hands,” I growled to cover how shaky my voice was as I pushed him aside and swiped my hand back and forth at shoulder height until I finally found that little cord and tugged down on it.

A mechanical click sounded in the room, then it flooded with harsh light. I turned on him and stopped dead.

He was big. Huge. Tall and broad, chest heaving, he seemed to fill up the tiny room. His hair was dark but warm, not quite black, and even though the sides were short to match his side-burns, it was long enough on the top to fall over his eyes that were a startling ice-blue.

Those eyes had locked on mine, surprise and humor lighting in them immediately. But I was still overwhelmed by the presence that was Rig Landon.

The Hunter.

He was notorious on campus. I’d been warned about him during rush week of freshman year, when my dormmates very quickly gathered that I lacked experience with guys… or anything even vaguely resembling a normal life, for that matter.

“He’ll sniff you out like a good wine,” they said, laughing and nudging each other. “Like, seriously, watch your back. The guy is like a drug. If he comes for you, you’re toast.”

“And so’s your virginity.”

They’d all cackled like witches in a high school Shakespeare play. But I’d dismissed them entirely. I’d seen Rig Landon—and the three friends he spent all his time with. Everyone had seen them. They were impossible to ignore. All tall and athletic, strikingly handsome, and predatory in a way that, from a distance, made my stomach go cold. The four of them prowled campus like they owned it. The Wolf Pack everyone called them. You rarely saw one without the others.

Except in dark office corners, apparently.

I was finding my body’s response to him in close quarters quite a bit different than when there was a safe amount of space between us.

Rig had obviously shaved today because his cheeks that were often shadowed with stubble, were smooth, emphasizing the hard line of his jaw. He was wearing a leather jacket that only made the wide planes of his shoulders look even broader. His chest—also broad, and heaving because apparently I wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss—narrowed to a trim waist and washboard stomach that was iron hard I now knew, because I’d felt it pressed against me.

He wore the kind of distressed jeans that I always imagined models wore, the ones that hung from his hips and somehow managed to hug every muscle, but weren’t tight anywhere they shouldn’t be.

“Enjoying the view?” he chuckled. His voice was a deep, warm gravel that punched right behind my belly-button.

Realizing I was staring, I yanked my gaze back up to his sinfully handsome face. Rig gave a slow, wicked smile and his tongue appeared tracing his lip like he was tasting me on it. His eyes blazed and my breath stopped.

Holy shit, this guy was a walking sex-cicle.

For a second my courage wanted to fail. And my body wanted to give in. Reminding myself that he’d just sexually assaulted me, I raised my chin, folded my arms across my chest because I needed a shield, and sucked in another breath as I took a step back. “Get out of here. You can’t be here. I’ll… I’ll call security.”

He arched a single eyebrow, but didn’t move.

“I’m serious!” I wish my voice didn’t sound so high and breathless.

He raised his hands, palms out. “Sorry, sorry. Just a case of mistaken identity. I had a… meeting planned. Bad timing, I guess.”

I backed toward the door, then grabbed it and swung it wider. “Get out.”

With a shrug and a lopsided smile that made my stomach clench, he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step towards the door. But as he drew level with me and his shoulder brushed against my arm, he turned. Those eyes… he stared out from under the tines of near-black hair like a wolf peering through grass.

“Are you sure?” he purred. “That was hot.”

I would have sworn his voice vibrated at the apex of my thighs.

Rig Landon thought kissing me was hot?

Then I heard my own thoughts and choked on them. “I’m certain,” I spluttered, jerking my chin towards the door because I didn’t trust my hand not to shake if I pointed.

Rig shrugged and shifted his weight like he was about to walk out, but then he caught himself. He leaned in, just a hair and inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes like he was smelling something delicious.

“Vanilla,” he murmured, “with a touch of spice.”

“I—what?!” I squeaked.

He opened his eyes and looked at the nametag on my chest—at least, I hoped that was what he was looking at—then his eyes dragged up to lock on mine. His eyes narrowed like he was confused about something. “You really mean it,” he said, as if he was baffled.

My jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of him. “Yes!”

“Huh,” he said, looking thoughtful. But then he straightened and winked. As he turned for the door, he shot me a grin so boyish and playful, a giggle rose in my throat. “We’ll see each other again, Cara.”

I swallowed down a strange mix of relief and grief, and made myself frown. “Get. Out.”

With a sarcastic little salute, he turned and sauntered out the door, his hair almost brushing the top of the door frame as he left the room.

He threw me a single glance over his shoulder just before he turned the corner into the lobby and those words echoed in my head. We’ll see each other again, Cara.

I scoffed, then realized I was still staring at the place where he’d disappeared, so I made myself turn away, back to the office. But I was left standing there because I couldn’t remember why I’d even gone in there in the first place.

I was trembling. My body tingled from head to toe. My skin hummed like every nerve ending in my body had rushed to the surface and sat there, waiting to be touched. Stroked.

What the hell was happening to me?

“Nothing. Nothing is happening except that you got cornered by a man-whore.” I muttered to myself.

I turned a circle, but still couldn’t think past the shrieking alarms in my head, so I just sighed and left, yanking the door closed behind me and checking twice with trembling hands that it was locked.

The moment I stepped around the corner into the lobby of the library, I felt eyes on me—like fingertips stroking through my hair and down my arm.

With a shiver I turned.

Rig Landon stood just inside the sliding doors of the main entrance to the library, smiling.

When our eyes caught again, he gave that slow, sultry smile again, and winked.

The move was so dramatic, so cartoonish, that I laughed.

His eyes clouded and his smile faded. I clapped a hand to my mouth to try to stifle the hysterical giggles, but I was still spluttering behind my hand when he turned on his heel and stalked out.

But for the rest of the night, every time I got distracted, every time the humming in my body refused to quit, those words came back to me.

We’ll see each other again, Cara.

And the really fucked up thing was… a part of me hoped it was true.

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