Free he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2: Desire Games by Dawn Steele Page B

much the
man slut himself. Only you don’t do campus girls. What – we’re not good
enough for you? Or do you prefer older women with the means to pay you for
fucking them?” She smiled.
    He retorted, “You know, Fiona,
you don’t have to be such a prick.”
    “I don’t have a prick. You do.
Where are you taking me . . . if not for fucking?”
    He grimaced. “I know a place just
outside town.”
    “So early in the morning?”
    “I figured we’d get a fresh
start.”
     
    *
     
    It felt like a drive-by, only it
wasn’t a drive-by. If they were in a TV show, he reckoned he would have rolled
down the window, pulled out a gun and fired.
    But as it was, this was just as
effective. In another way.
    Carlo’s blood was boiling in his
veins. That was the trouble with being a shifter. You had a threshold, and when
you crossed that threshold, it became pure, blinding rage. You would not take
insults from another man. Or another shifter, for the matter.
    There was only so much a wolf
could take.
    “This is a really nice
neighborhood,” Fiona said. “Very far away from campus. Your sugar mommy lives
here?”
    “If you weren’t so busy talking
out of your yap, you’d see what’s at three o’ clock.”
    She turned her head. “But it’s
only eight thirty in the morning.”
    “What’s better than a full
breakfast?”
    The couple sat at the edge of the
café. They had probably ordered, but the food had not arrived. They were
nursing their coffee. They looked happy. In fact, Kate was positively glowing,
the way she never glowed when she was having coffee with him.
    The Professor seemed relaxed.
More relaxed than Carlo had ever seen him, in fact. His hair was slightly
tousled, indicating that he had just rolled out of bed. And why not? His
penthouse was in the building just across the street in this ritzy
neighborhood.
    They were both a beautiful
couple. More beautiful than anything he had ever seen, despite the gap between
their ages.
    “Oh my God,” Fiona gasped.
    It was too late to take it back
now.
    “Yes. ‘Oh my God’ is right.”
    He felt sick. And yet good. Sick
and good in a complex psychological way that he didn’t fully comprehend.

 
    15
     
    Fiona wasn’t always a slut.
    But she did like sex. She liked
it when Tommy Garmond stuck his cock into her in ninth grade. She liked it so
much that she did it again and again. That didn’t make her a slut, right? She
only did it with Tommy, not his friends, who wanted to do her too.
    But then, her stepfather, Jerry,
found out. She was afraid he would tell her mother, but he didn’t. In fact, he
had been looking at her kind of funny lately. She was one of those girls who
developed fast physically. Her boobs were already outgrowing any girly bra her
mother had bought her.
    She had learned the power of
those boobs and that body.
    “Let’s say you and me . . . we
cut a deal,” Jerry said to her.
    “What deal?” she had asked
innocently.
    Oh boy, she had been innocent
then.
    Unfortunately, when Jerry held
her down and raped her, her beauty was a power she didn’t want to have.
    He threatened to tell her mother
if she didn’t do what he wanted. And so she let him fuck her, Repeatedly. Until
she was well into the eleventh grade. It was amazing how she kept her grades in
school. But she had always been smart. She had a photographic memory. And a
pussy boys wanted to climb into in more ways than one.
    After a while, it was just about
having sex and orgasms. Or maybe it was all about pain management. The orgasms
helped to keep the pain at bay – to keep her from slitting her wrists.
    And then Jerry died of a heart
attack. It wasn’t even when he was fucking her. No. It happened when he was
walking the dog. Funny how he managed to keep the veneer of the friendly
neighborhood stepfather when their house was so full of secrets.
    She was free.
    Or was she really?
    It didn’t matter, really, she
told herself. She was young, she was smart and she had the world at