Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
“Barry?” Wesley asked.
“Short for Baryshnikov,” I said. “He’s a very famous ballet dancer.”
“It’s a female wolf.”
“Why, just because it’s wearing a tutu?”
“I-well-I suppose if you want it to be Barry, that’s fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “But back to this whole two boyfriends one party issue—“
“Yes?” I said as I turned around.
“Why didn’t you invite me?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he stepped closer to me, backing me towards the counter.
“I didn’t think—“
“I would want to come?”
“No, that’s not it,” I insisted, shaking my head.
“Then why?” Wes asked, his hands settling on either side of me on the counter, his body so close it was almost touching me, but he intentionally held himself back.
His face lowered towards mine until he was only a hairsbreadth away from me, his warm breath fanning over my face and his scent making me want to melt into him.
“I didn’t think you’d want to come,” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.
His lips tugged into a half smile. “Of course I want to come.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“I wanted to tell you,” he said, taking one step into me, closing the distance between our bodies. My breath stuck in my throat as his mouth moved to my ear. “I don’t know a damn thing about ballet,” he muttered, his lips caressing the shell of my ear, “but you were beautiful up there. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice tight and my eyes closing at the feel of his body pressing against mine.
He placed a kiss right below my ear, and my body shivered, my toes curling against the bottom of my sandals.
“Where is this party?” His nose traced along my jawline, and I had to hold back the little moan threatening to escape my lips.
“Downstairs,” I gasped. “In the outdoor garden between the concert hall and the rehearsal complex.”
Somewhere in the midst of his flirting and seduction and warm touches and gentle kisses, the thought that we should not be doing this in my dressing room crossed my mind. Briefly. For a moment.
And just as soon as it left my mind, and I thought about pushing him further, about rolling my hips against him and rubbing my body along his like a damn cat in heat, he stepped away from me. Stepped back into the center of my dressing room, taking his warmth with him.
“I should go tell the others I’ll be heading back later this evening.” I nodded at him. “I’ll bring your flowers up here and then meet you there?”
I nodded again, and he turned and left, throwing me a quick wink over his shoulder as he walked out the dressing room door.
I waited a bit, composing myself, before heading down to the gala.
HAVEN
I walked out of the door and into the garden and, right away, Maya looped her arm through mine, the bright yellow silk of her gown standing out against the lilac of mine. She had her dark coils smoothed back into a low bun, a rhinestone comb slid snug up against it, and she’d added just enough makeup to her face to give herself a subtle, shimmery glow.
“I never thought I’d see the day when the wolfketeers would come to the ballet. Voluntarily. And enjoy it,” she said as we walked through the garden under the stars, winding our way through the tables laden with candles, eucalyptus and floral arrangements, and the planters filled with jasmine.
“Wait, the what?” I asked, turning to stare at her, a small laugh spilling from my lips. “Did you just call them the ‘wolfketeers’?”
She blinked for a second, then pursed her lips and shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Like the musketeers?”
“Yeah. But when we were growing up, they were like a little pack of wolves, always running around the forest together, and I started calling them that in high school, and it just kind of stuck.” She paused, and then her eyes got wide. “But you can’t say anything to Wesley about it. None of them know we call them that.”
“Scout’s honor,” I said, holding up three fingers.
We reached the bar, and Maya ordered herself a lemon drop then looked at me expectantly.
“No thanks,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not twenty-one,” I told the bartender.
We walked over to a small high-top table to wait for Maya’s drink. “You could have ordered something. He wasn’t about to check ID for any of the dancers here.”
“It’s fine,” I said with a shrug. “I’d rather keep a clear head.”
“That’s fair. I imagine it’s difficult enough for you when you’re around Wes. I see the way you go all melty for him whenever he flashes that smile at you.”
I rolled my eyes at her as they set her drink down in front of her. “So, which guy is which musketeer?” I asked her, changing the subject.
“Oh, well, Sebastian is definitely D’Artagnan,” she said as she finished a quick sip of her drink. “Clever but foolhardy. And the youngest. And Nolan is Athos. Because of that thing with his… girlfriend.”
“What thing with his girlfriend?” I asked, bristling, defensive of this man I barely knew.
“Not his girlfriend now,” she said. “Rachel is great.”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?