Alpha’s Mission: A Special Forces Shifter Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 8)
Alpha’s Mission: Chapter 4

Charlie

Grady’s up almost as early as I am, padding into the kitchen at the first light of dawn. I’ll bet that drives his mom nuts.

“You hungry?” I ask.

He shrugs.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” I set a box of Golden Grahams on the table with a bowl. “Have some cereal.”

He seems to like that and tears open the box. The cereal spills on the table, but I don’t say anything, just pour milk into his bowl and drop a spoon into it. “Have at it.”

He shovels a bite into his mouth. “Thanks.”

Sarah comes out next, but Annabel hits the shower. I get itchy thinking about her being naked with just a thin door between us. Last night, I had to leave the cabin because the desire to open that bedroom door and throw Annabel over my shoulder was too strong.

I shifted and hunted most of the night. I’m just glad I found my way back and was able to change back to human form before morning.

Annabel wanted to hack into the CIA last night, but she was drained from the stress of the day. She’s hoping to crack it today.

Sarah stands at the window, looking out. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Where are you from?” I realize I don’t know, just that they received plane tickets to fly to L.A. yesterday.

“Oklahoma.”

The bathroom door opens, and Annabel emerges—in a goddamn towel. My entire body flushes with heat, and something wonky happens with my vision. Fuck—is it my wolf trying to come out?

What in the hell does that mean?

“Is it all right to leave the cabin? Could I take Grady out for a hike?”

I shove my hands in my pockets to hide my boner. “Yeah, sure. It’s safe here.”

“Okay, we’ll be back in an hour or so.” She turns to Grady, who’s already out of his seat at the table, pulling on his shoes. “Ready, bud?”

“I’m ready. You’re the one who’s taking so long.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls on a light jacket, and the two of them leave the cabin.

“Charlie?” Annabel calls from the bedroom.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come in here for a second?”

My hand goes to my pistol even though I don’t smell or hear an intruder. Still, there’s an oddness to Annabel’s tone that has my skin prickling.

Then I nearly fall on my ass.

Because Annabel Gray is stark naked, pulling me into the bedroom. She drops to her knees and unbuckles my belt.

“Fuck,” I mutter, drawing in breath to oxygenate my brain because all the blood just rushed south.

“I just wanted to thank you,” she purrs as she frees my erection.

My hand tangles in her wet hair. “Oh yeah?” If I were a gentleman, I’d tell her no thanks was necessary, but there’s no way in hell I can refuse this gift. Not after I spent the entire night fantasizing about exactly how her crimson lips would look stretched over my cock. She fists the base and sticks out her tongue, rubbing the head over it, just enough to moisten the taut skin.

I groan. “Don’t tease,” I pant. “Don’t fucking tease. I’ve been hard for you since the second I took the condom off last time.”

Her gray gaze lifts to meet mine, and she opens her mouth and engulfs my length.

I’m an asshole because the beast in me roars to the fore. I grab her by the hair to hold her still and thrust deep into her throat.

She gags, but still sucks hard when I pull out.

“Oh God,” I groan. “That’s so fucking good.” I thrust again and again, relishing the heat, the way her tongue glides along the underside of my shaft, the way she hollows her cheeks to pull. “Annabel, it’s not fair.”

She pops off. “What’s not fair?”

“You shouldn’t be able to do this to me. It shouldn’t be legal, it’s too fucking good.” I’m babbling like an idiot. It’s so unlike me, but I can’t seem to stop.

I tighten my grip in her hair and pump fast. My eyes roll back in my head.

Annabel’s making little sounds around my cock. Aroused sounds. When she reaches her fingers between her legs, I growl.

She needs me there.

Now.

I pull out and lift her to her feet with unnatural strength. In a flash, she’s on her back on the bed, and I yank her thighs until her ass reaches the edge.

She spreads them wide. Beautiful. So, beautiful. Naked and lush and perfect.

Condom. Thoughts barely reach my brain. Somehow I find protection in my wallet and get the prophylactic on. Her pussy’s wet. I can tell just by her scent, but I rub the head of my sheathed cock over her entrance. When I find it as juicy as expected, I thrust in.

She cries out, arching her breasts toward the ceiling.

“Annabel,” I croak. I grip her thighs, holding her captive for my rough assault. If I could hold back, I would, but it’s impossible. Everything I learned in my youth about being a skilled and tender lover is lost.

I’m the monster now, the beast. All I can do is rut like a wild animal.

Unbelievably, Annabel doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s as frenzied as I am, crying out, fisting the bedcovers. I pick up her wrists and pin them over her head. She rolls her hips, moans wantonly. I pound so hard, her ass bounces on the bed, and the bed itself skids across the room until it hits the far wall.

“Gotta fuck you. Gotta fuck you so hard,” I rumble.

“Yes, yes, Charlie.”

I love the way she gives herself to me. The same way she did back in her apartment—with total abandon, total willingness. It feeds me, makes my drive to take her even stronger.

And I want it all. Some base instinct in me, the beast in me, wants to claim every part of her body, every orifice.

I pull out and flip her over, giving her ass a hard slap.

“Oh!” Her cry of surprise only makes my throbbing dick harder. There’s lubricant in the bedside table drawer. I bought it last week when I jacked off twenty times thinking about my beautiful handler. I lunge for it, squeeze an ample amount over my cock.

My brain’s telling me no. Trying to put on the brakes, but the wolf won’t listen. He wants to claim. Needs to claim. He’s dying to claim. And for some reason, taking her ass is important. The final fucking frontier.

I squeeze some over her anus, she jerks, and looks over her shoulder at me. I can tell by her wide eyes she’s an anal virgin. I should stop now. Ask permission. Talk about it. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I try to speak, but the words come out as gibberish. All I can decipher is her name. And there seems to be the attempt at a question. Something like “IneedtofuckyourasscanIfuckit Annabel?”

I’m already rubbing my thumb over her anus, massaging the tight ring of muscles open.

“Charlie?” There’s fear in her voice—fear I should heed.

Instead, I’m making her promises. “I’ll make it good, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it good.”

My thumb enters her, and she moans, relaxes for me.

“Good girl. Let me in.” I fuck her with my thumb until the muscles have loosened and stretched, and she’s used to the sensation. Then I line my lubed cock up with her back pucker. “That’s it, baby. Take my cock.”

She whines a bit but lets me in, and I don’t know how, but I manage to go slow, slow, slow. I fill and stretch her, easing in, inch by inch.

“Fucking Christ, Annabel. Christ!” I’m lost—in awe of her trust, her total allowance.

She wriggles her hand under her hips, and I move to help her, covering her fingers with my own, rubbing her clit as I pump into her ass.

“Charlie… Charlie. Oh, Charlie.”

“That’s it, sweet girl. You’re taking me so well.”

Her pussy is beyond juicy. It’s the wettest, most swollen piece of heaven I’ve ever felt. I flick my finger against her clit as I claim her ass.

My balls draw up tight, thighs start to quake.

“Yes, Annabel. Fuck, yes.” I shove three fingers in her pussy as I come, hoping to give as good as I got. Her muscles flutter against them, so I know she came too.

I’m delirious. Grateful and satisfied and still crazed for her all at once. I pull out, but I haven’t had enough.

Annabel

Charlie turns me around again and fists the hair at the top of my head. He uses it to tip my chin up and kisses me thoroughly. No, it’s less a kiss and more a devouring. He takes my mouth, drags his lips along my jaw, down my neck. He bites my shoulder.

“Fuck, Annabel. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

Tears pop into my eyes at that. The rough admission seems so out of character for the secret agent who never shows his cards.

I’ve never felt this way with anyone before either. I’ve never even experience one-tenth of this much passion. Charlie is rough but so self-assured. Yeah, I was scared to try anal, but I trusted him. He’s good at everything he does. And he was definitely expert in that respect.

My pussy and anus throb a bit, but it a delicious, well-used sort of way. I certainly received as much pleasure as he took—maybe more.

He pulls back and just stares down at me, still holding me captive by the hair. I love being at his mercy—knowing his body is a trained weapon, that he’s capable of subduing me in a myriad of ways. One yank and he could snap my neck.

But he won’t.

He’s here to protect me. He may have just given up his job for me. Hell, his life is probably forfeit now.

That’s why I wanted to thank him with the blowjob while Sarah and Grady are out. It’s not because I couldn’t stop thinking about the frenzied way he took me yesterday up against the wall or because I needed him to help me forget again.

“Funny,” I touch his cheek, “your eyes look blue right now.”

He freezes for a moment, then blinks and retreats, backing off me. “Do they? My father’s used to change, too.” His voice sounds strange. But then he turns back to me and scoops me off the bed.

He’s impossibly strong. He carries me like a child to the bathroom where he starts the shower. “Let me clean you up.” His eyes are back to green.

I stand and watch him undress, dragging my lower lip through my teeth when I catch sight of his ribbed abdominals, the hard pecs. He’s covered in scars—knife wounds, bullet holes, burn marks—each one only adds to the stark beauty of his warrior body. He disposes of the condom in the trash and kicks off his boxer briefs.

And—oh lord—his cock still stands at attention for me. How is that even possible?

He tests the water temperature. I’m standing here, mute, the whole time. I must be in a daze from the orgasm—a satisfaction stupor.

He nudges me gently inside, then follows behind me. He picks up the bar of soap and rolls it between his hands, then strokes my body with it. His hands coast down my arms, up my sides, over my breasts.

The tenderness that was absent during sex stuns me now. He’s almost reverent—like he’s worshipping at the temple of my body or the altar of love.

No, not love.

I need to stop thinking that way. We’ve had incredible sex because we’re under enormous stress. Under normal circumstances, I never would get involved with someone from the organization.

But that’s not true, either. If I’d known what it was like to be taken hard by Charlie Dune, I would’ve been begging him for it every single meet up we had. I’m almost sorry now for all the missed opportunities.

Charlie turns me in the water, washes the crack of my ass, between my legs, down my thighs. He strokes me with reverence like he’s savoring the sensation of my skin, the water, the slide of the soap. When he rises, he wraps me in his arms, and we stand under the water.

“You’re still shaking, angel.”

I am. My body trembles from the sex, my legs still barely hold me up. But now, as the high of the orgasm washes away with the soap, reality sets back in.

“I’m afraid, Charlie.”

He smooths the wet tendrils of hair back from my face, brings his forehead right up to mine.

“I won’t let anything happen to you or your family. I promise you, that, Annabel.”

I believe him because Charlie Dune is a force of nature. Nothing could stop him from achieving a target.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I can’t thank you enough. This is way more than what I did for you.”

He kisses me, lips moving over mine, sultry and soft. “We’re in this together now. No going back. I’m going to keep you safe. Okay?”

I nod mutely.

The water turns cold, and he turns it off and steps out first. His ass is a work of art—muscled buns leading down to thick, strong thighs. He wraps me in a towel and pulls me in for another kiss.

“Let’s get dressed, and we’ll talk strategy.”

I’m comforted by the word strategy. It’s something my analytical mind can get busy on besides the worry gnawing me apart.

Charlie

“You okay with doing this?” I ask as Annabel seats herself in front of the laptop and cracks her knuckles. She told me she thought of a way to hack the CIA that would be untraceable.

“Hacking our employer? We’re not going to hurt anything. If there’s a cover-up here, I wanna know.”

Her lower lip juts out a little. My brave, beautiful girl.

Except she’s not mine. I can’t have her, can’t keep her. I clear my throat.

“All right. Show me your father’s file.”

“Your wish is my command.” She quirks a pert little grin. “You really like giving orders, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” I murmur, distracted by her fingers dancing over the keyboard, slender and graceful. If I told her to turn around and touch me instead, they’d feel so…

“Charlie?”

I search my memory for the echo of what she just said. “No, I haven’t had much dealing with Agent Tentrite.” I pace to the window and look out, getting some distance between us. It doesn’t work. Her sweet scent teases my nose until I can envision her stretched out on the bed. The rapid clicks on the keyboard remind me again of her small hands caressing my—Damn, I’m used to being attracted to my lovely, aloof handler, but this is beyond attraction. I’m obsessed. I fear it has too much to do with the monster I’m becoming.

“All this happened after I made inquiries about my father. There’s a bunch of redacted data in his file. I’ve been trying to hack it with a higher-level clearance, but—” Her voice cuts off abruptly.

“What?” I stride to her side. “What is it?”

“It’s not here.”

“You sure? Maybe they moved it.”

“No, I’m in the code. The file is here, but the info… it’s gone.”

I curse.

“Wiped. All of it.”

“Who did it, can you tell?”

“No, but I’m about to find out.” Her voice hardens.

I stay at her side will she probes. Her brows knit, and her lips move a little as she focuses on the screen. The minutes stretch, but I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t break her concentration. After we showered she put on a light t-shirt, loose enough so if I edge forward I can see straight down the collar to the lovely slope of her—

Cursing myself, I make my eyes fix on the pine paneling of the cabin wall. My cock is at attention, fighting to punch out of my pants. This is ridiculous. I’ve never been this out of control. But now I’m a prisoner of my own… baser nature.

In any case, it’s a good thing I never slept with Annabel before now. I’d be absolutely useless in the field.

“Got ya,” Annabel whispers in satisfaction.

“Who?” I bend over her, resisting the urge to nuzzle her hair. The screen is a mess of glowing code.

“Last access was early this morning. Zero three hundred hours.” She curses. “I should’ve hacked it last night.”

“It’s all right. You were tired.” I squeeze her shoulder. “We had no way of knowing someone was going to log in to your dad’s file at three in the morning.”

“The user signed in and spent a few minutes in here before wiping it,” Annabel continues, her voice a bit shaky. This isn’t just another mission for her. This is personal. “But they couldn’t completely delete the file with their access clearance. I traced the user profile to a dud email account. It’s a fake name, but I got the IP address and—” she rattles off a bunch of technical steps that leaves my head spinning.

“English please.”

“Sorry.” She gives a wan smile. “I forget you don’t speak nerd.”

“You speak it well enough for the both of us. Who wiped the file, Annabel?”

She turns a little pale but says in a clear, strong voice, “Agent Tentrite.”

Annabel

“This is just like when we were teenagers.” I grin up at Sarah, who scowls because I moved. She has a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of my hair in the other, and she’s thinning the edges like a professional hairstylist.

I’ve bleached my hair to a respectable housewife blond, and now, Sarah’s giving me a shoulder-length layered ‘do. “Remember when you shaved the side of my head and dyed the bangs purple?”

Sarah laughs. “We were so sure mom would freak out, but she didn’t say a word.”

“Yeah, I think she actually got the last laugh on that one.”

We both sober, grief from our mother’s death still present after two years.

My sister sifts her fingers through my hair. “This is pretty extreme.”

“You don’t think it looks good?”

“No… it’s just hard to think of my baby sister dyeing her hair and going undercover.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” I say, even though my stomach is flipping at what Charlie and I are about to do. “I’ll be fine.”

She sighs. “Don’t lie to me. I know it’s going to be dangerous. You won’t even tell me what it is.”

“That’s for your protection. Hey,” I grab her hand and squeeze. “I’m not lying. I’m going to be careful. Besides, Charlie will be with me. Do you really think he’d let something happen to me?”

Biting her lip, she shakes her head. Already she looks less worried. There’s a bit of Charlie hero worship reflected in her eyes.

“So, tell me,” Sarah says in a low voice even though we’re in the bathroom, and Grady’s watching The Incredibles out in the living room. “Did you two have a quickie while we were out for our walk this morning?”

I smile at her in the mirror and waggle my eyebrows. “It wasn’t that quick.”

She grins back. “It’s about time you—”

“Shut up.”

She and I both know my dating life is non-existent. My single-parent sister does way better in that department which doesn’t say much.

“He’s hot.”

I shift in my chair, still sore in all the right places from the rough way he took me. “Yeah, definitely.”

“So? Is it forbidden?”

“Handler-field agent relationships? I don’t know. Probably. Even if it’s not, it’s highly impractical.”

“Because they travel around a lot? Live in high danger?” Sarah uses a star-struck tone like we’re talking about a Mission Impossible character and not the very real, very sexy Charlie Dune who hopefully can’t hear us from the kitchen where he’s eating his eighth meal of the day while he makes us fake IDs. He even printed credit cards with our new names. I had no idea such a thing was possible, and I’ve worked at the agency for ten years.

“I mean, actually, it’s probably not forbidden for the field agent. They’re allowed to pretty much do anything they want, so long as they complete their missions. But I might be reprimanded. I don’t know.”

Sarah’s lips twist into a knowing grin. “Worth it?”

“So, worth it.” I want to tell her all about it—she is my sister, after all—but the thought of Charlie overhearing is too embarrassing. I just make my eyes really round in the mirror and nod my head slowly like I’m in awe.

Sarah smothers a giggle. “So, you’re going as Mr. and Mrs. What-was it?”

“Barnard. Brett and Melinda.”

“Mindy Barnard,” Sarah muses as she bends her knees to get eye level with me and cuts my bangs. “It has a cute ring. When’s your birthday?”

“March 13th, 1986.”

“Your sign?”

“Um… Pisces. No one is going to ask me that. I’m not using a fake ID to get into a bar.”

Sarah shrugs. “You never know. Better safe than sorry.”

I roll my eyes, but secretly I’m glad Sarah’s enjoying this and not getting overly freaked out.

Charlie appears in the doorway. His eyes lock onto mine, and I swear they turn ice blue again. His nostrils flare. “Fuck,” he says, and shakes his head like a dog shaking off water.

“What?”

“You look…”

I tug my hair out of Sarah’s grasp. “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

“No.” His voice sounds strangled. “I loved the red, but…” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You look good. Really good.”

I cock my head to the side. “You got a thing for blondes?”

“No, I—” He stops. “Not until now, I didn’t,” he mutters as he literally walks backward, his eyes still glued to mine.

Finally, with another shake of his head, he hits the kitchen.

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