Owned: An Alpha Anthology Part 2

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

She frowns. "What?"

I bend to whisper in her ear. "Your lips. My d.i.c.k."

I hear her suck in her breath and know she's keen but her eyes betray her tiredness. "Oh, that," she murmurs. And then her tummy grumbles.

Cupping her chin, I ask, "You hungry?"

A small smile pulls at her lips and she puts her hand to her stomach. "Yeah."

I nod. "Okay, let's go get you something to eat."

"It's nearly three am. I'm sure you must have stuff planned for today. Don't you want to get some sleep?"

I grab her hand. "What I want to do is feed you, sweetheart. Sleep can wait."

She covers the surprise I see on her face with a grin and squeezes my hand. "I know your game, dude. You just want to get me fed so I'll have the energy to finish that b.l.o.w. .j.o.b."

I stifle my laugh so I don't wake her friend. Dragging her out of the room, I ask, "How is it you know me so well after such a short amount of time?"

"Men... you're all the same. If there are lips on offer, you'll do almost anything."

"Guilty as charged."

"So, where are you taking me?"

"I know a little cafe that's open all night. They make the most amazing food."

"Oh G.o.d, don't tell me that. I'm trying to lose some weight at the moment, and amazing food is the last thing I need. I don't know how to stop when the food is that good," she complains.

I eye her pet.i.te frame. She's got curves, but there's no way in h.e.l.l she needs to be on a f.u.c.king diet. Scowling, I say, "Do you have any clue how s.e.xy you are? Those curves of yours are every man's f.u.c.king dream."

Her eyes widen and I'm stunned to think I've told her something she should have already known. Something any man in his right mind would tell her. "There's always room for improvement," she says quietly, and I want to take a match to those thoughts and burn them from her mind.

I shake my head. "Not for you." I yank her hand and pull her to me. Her body collides with mine and the heat between us flares. Running my finger along her lips, I say, "As far as I'm concerned, your s.e.xiness is off the f.u.c.king charts. Don't change a thing."

A smile eases onto her face. "Every woman needs a Jett. You could singlehandedly fix the mental health of most of the women I know."

I steal a kiss and then smack her a.s.s. That a.s.s is one I could happily spend hours getting to know and laying my hand on it is something I want to do more of. Pulling away, I boss her around. "Okay, start walking. Food heaven awaits."

Ten minutes later, we arrive at the cafe and the owner gives me a huge smile. I've been coming here on and off for five years, so they know me well. He gets us settled and takes our order. I'm pleased to see Presley order up big. After the owner leaves us, I say, "I take it you don't live here due to the fact you're staying in a hotel. Where are you from?"

"Brisbane. You?"

Inside, I'm cheering like a d.i.c.khead. "Brisbane, too."

"Are you here for work?"

"Yeah, we came to Sydney to do some concerts." I shift in my seat and lean across the table a little. "You said you were working with models. What do you do?"

"I'm a fashion photographer. However, I'm thinking of swapping to landscape photography," she says, and I note the sarcasm.

I chuckle. "Had enough of the models?"

"You have no idea. I've been working in this industry for seven years, and I think I've hit my used by date."

"So, time for a change?"

She nods, clearly enthusiastic about this idea. "I've got three months off, and I'm going to rea.s.sess everything."

I c.o.c.k my head. "Sounds like you're about to make a lot of changes, not just work."

"Yeah, it's been one of those years, you know?"

"I do. Although for me, it's been more than one of those years." Exhaustion pounces on me just thinking about it.

"Oh G.o.d, that sucks," she says, and I'm in complete agreement with her.

"Yeah, it does, because I love making music. It's just all the other bulls.h.i.t that goes with it that I hate."

"Which part?"

"I miss my family and friends. When we started the band ten years ago, I never cared about being away from them, but over the last few years, I've really started resenting it. In fact, we're just about to take some extended time off, something we haven't done for a long time," I say, taking in her surprise. "Why do you seem surprised?"

"I'm more impressed than surprised," she says, softly.

"Why?"

"I've met a lot of famous people through my work and other things, even made friends with some of them, and they hardly ever talk about their family. You've mentioned yours twice already tonight. So yeah, I'm surprised but impressed."

A sensation I've never felt snakes through me. I'm clueless as to what it is, but I soak it in. It's the kind of sensation I would pay good money to feel more of. "I know what you mean, sweetheart," I murmur.

"Do all your band members get on well?"

"Ten years is a long time to work together and practically live together. We've hardly stopped touring in that time. But I'm pretty proud to admit we work at it and do get on fairly well still. There have been some b.u.mpy parts, though. I guess it's like a marriage."

"You've been married?" she asks, seemingly interested in my answer.

"f.u.c.k, no. Besides the fact I haven't met the right woman, I wouldn't like to put a marriage through my job. I don't know what I'll do if I ever get married, but I'm fairly certain I'd cut my work back."

And there's that surprised look on her face again as she says, "Like I said, every woman needs a Jett. Do you know how many friends I have who would kill to have a husband who put them before their work?"

"You know, I'm kinda liking this whole 'everyone needs a Jett' thing you've got going on but only so long as it's you who wants a Jett and so long as it's for more of the lips-on-d.i.c.k action." I give her a wicked grin, and she shakes her head in amus.e.m.e.nt.

It's refreshing to find a woman with a great sense of humour. As we start laughing, our food arrives and we spend the next hour eating and talking. It's easy, which is something rare for me. I find most women difficult to talk to. All they want to do is screw me and worm their way into my life by blinding me with s.e.x. I'll take the s.e.x any day, but what I crave is good conversation and some laughs. So far, Presley has managed both.

She gives me a serious look when we finish eating, and says, "I think you'd better take me back to the hotel now if we're going to have any hope at finishing what we started. Otherwise, I may fall asleep mid s.e.x."

Without hesitating, I stand and reach for her hand. "Let's get going then," I say as I a.s.sess her. It's obviously been a long week for her because she looks exhausted.

It takes us longer to walk back then it did to get here, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should just carry her, but she makes it on her own. When we enter her room, I pull her to me and kiss her. She kisses me back but there's even exhaustion in her kiss. I figured that would be the case, and as I end the kiss, I smooth my hand over her hair and murmur, "Let's get you to bed."

She looks puzzled. "Don't you want to have s.e.x? My lips, your d.i.c.k... remember?"

"Beautiful, you have no idea how much I want to f.u.c.k you, but I'm thinking that in your current state even my d.i.c.k won't keep you awake."

A tired smile graces her gorgeous face and she nods. "You're probably right."

She walks to the bed and grabs the t-shirt that's under the pillow. I expect her to change in the bathroom, but instead, she strips down to her panties and pulls the t-shirt on. f.u.c.k, her body is spectacular with its curves and a softness I don't see on many women. I don't even pretend not to watch. No, I settle my a.s.s against the table in the corner, fold my arms across my chest, and enjoy the f.u.c.k out of the show. Not that she's turning it into a show, but Presley undressing is a f.u.c.king show.

Once she's changed, she pulls the bed covers back and gets in. I move to the bed and pull them over her before squatting so we're at the same level. I want to take one last look at her before leaving. Her eyes are already closing and she smiles at me as she fights sleep.

"I'm so glad I went to that club tonight," I admit.

The smile is still on her face and her voice is sleepy. "I'm glad you went, too."

"When do you fly home?"

"Tomorrow, late afternoon." She's barely awake now.

"I want to see you again, Presley."

"Yes... the s.e.x will be good... we need to do that..."

"No, I want to take you on a date."

"No dates...just s.e.x...I don't do rock stars..." she mumbles through a sleepy haze.

"What do you mean you don't do rock stars?"

"No, don't want to do it again...."

She's almost asleep, and I have no clue what she's talking about, so I decide to finish this conversation when she's awake. I kiss her on the forehead and stand. "Night, sweetheart."

There's no response except for her steady breathing as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful. I consider sitting in the chair and watching her for a while, but it feels wrong, so I don't do it. Instead, I take one last look at her and then leave. This won't be the last time I see her. She can try to say no to me all she likes, but I'm not the kind of man who ever takes no for an answer. If I want something, I always find a way to have it.

ALL YOUR REASONS BY NINA LEVINE.

3 - Presley.

I hang up the phone from Darla and mutter a swear word. Our flight has been cancelled, and while she's decided to take the opportunity to stay in Sydney for a couple of extra days, I have to get home. My cat, Urban, has been staying with a friend, and I need to get back to him. I'm just about to call the airline when there's a knock at my door.

"Hi," I say, surprised to see Jett.

He holds a coffee out to me and takes a step forward to enter my room. Although I'm not sure I want him here, there's a sureness in his stride I like. "Morning." He greets me with a million dollar smile that sets b.u.t.terflies off in my stomach.

s.h.i.t.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I inquire as I take a sip of coffee. Hot d.a.m.n, it's good coffee. Just what I need this morning.

He walks further into the room before stopping and turning to face me. "Just checking in on you. You were pretty tired so I wanted to make sure you didn't miss your flight."

"Thank you." I hold the coffee up. "And thank you for this. It's heaven in a cup."

"It is, isn't it? It's from that same cafe I took you to."

"I'll have to remember that cafe the next time I visit Sydney."

"What time's your flight?"

"It's been cancelled, so I'm just about to find a new one."

A thoughtful look crosses his face. "I have a spare seat you can take."

"Huh?"

"My band's flying home at seven tonight, and our manager was supposed to fly out with us, but he has to stay another night now, so we have a spare seat."

I'm not sure why I'm feeling all mushy and excited at his suggestion when my head is screaming to refuse. I don't f.u.c.king do mushy. And yet, my heart and stomach are all mushy.

s.h.i.t.

The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. "That would be great."

His face lights up. "I'll organise it. We're leaving the hotel at four, though. Sorry about that."

"I don't mind, but why so early?"

He sighs. "Our drummer, Hunter, has this thing about always being on time. He hates being late, and we always have to leave for everything hours in advance."

I shrug because I get that. Totally. It's something I do. "Well, I guess on the upside, your band must have a reputation for never being late to a concert. I bet your fans love you for it 'cause I've gotta say, there's nothing worse than when you go to a concert and they can't even be bothered to start on time."

He grins again. "Yeah, that's us, and you're right, the fans do love it. Thank f.u.c.k for Hunter, huh?"

I raise my coffee in the air. "Cheers to Hunter."

He chuckles, and it warms me. It's been too long between men for me, and I'm enjoying this more than I want to. "I would ask you to lunch, but I've got some meetings to attend before we head out."

I wave my hand at him. "No, that's okay. I've got editing to do anyway. I'll see you at four down in the lobby."

He spends a moment or two looking at me. I'm not sure why, and it fl.u.s.ters me a little. And the fact it fl.u.s.ters me, s.h.i.ts me because I don't get fl.u.s.tered. A bit like I don't do mushy. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, this man is bringing all kinds of s.h.i.t out in me.