he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2: Desire Games (2 page)

3

The lecture was over. The usual
suspects scrambled to talk to Professor Rust O’Brien. Carlo Estez, who gave her
a knowing look. The slutty Fiona Montgomery, still wearing ‘my boobs are so big
they’re gonna fall out’ tight tees in front of the Professor.

Maybe you should be exclusive to
him, Fiona
, thought Kate viciously. Then maybe he’d take a second look at
you.

Kate waited patiently at the
periphery until the students had exhausted the Professor with their questions. He
glanced at her significantly, but continued to field answers to increasingly
repetitive and stupid questions.

To Fiona Montgomery: (politely) “No.
I don’t think penis envy could be attributed to every problem in the world. I
wouldn’t put that in a thesis, if I were you.”

Then, in his usual manner, he
grabbed his laptop bag. “I’ll see you the next time. Don’t forget to hand in
your assignments.”

He walked off to calls of
“Professor, wait!”

It stung a little. Was he walking
away from her? Was he running away from her? She knew she shouldn’t be reading
anything into it, but damn it . . . it still hurt. His strides were long and
swift as he exited the lecture hall.

Her cheeks burned. She wanted to
tell him something important.

It’s time. I’m exclusive to
you.

But he was out of the lecture
hall and out of her sight. She was probably out of his mind too.

She felt a nudge at her elbow.

“Want a grab a coffee?” Carlo
Estes was behind her, uncomfortably close. So close she could feel his breath
on her neck.

Since she was still stinging all
over from the (perceived) rebuke, she hesitated. Her first instinct was to say
‘no’. But exclusivity – which Rust O’Brien did not seem to be real
interested in at the moment – did not mean she couldn’t drink coffee with
a fellow student.

So she said, “Yes.”

Carlo grinned.

“I know a place,” he said.

*

“Why are you mooning over him
like a mad cow?” Carlo said as he nursed his cappuccino at ‘Betty’s Home Made
Creams’ in the street outside campus.

“Excuse me?” she bridled. “Who
are you calling a mad cow? I’m not the animal here.”

He laughed. “Sorry. But it’s
obvious . . . that thing you got for him. It’s written all over your face.”

She blushed again. He was right.
She didn’t have anything to say about that.

Carlo leaned back in his chair.
He was really handsome, she thought. Before she met Rust O’Brien, she would
have been very flattered by this attention from a good-looking student. In
fact, she was still flattered.

He said, “The good thing is it
was obvious
before
– ”

He let it trail significantly. He
meant ‘before that night you presented yourself to THE ALPHA MEN’S CLUB. The
night I touched you and almost forced myself down on you’.

“ – but it’s more obvious
now
.
There’s a BEFORE and AFTER. Get it?” He waved his right hand and said,
“Before.” He waved his left hand and said, “After.” Then he made a ‘mooing’
sound.

She couldn’t help laughing.

“I’m really that obvious, aren’t
I?”

“Yes.”

She sobered. “I can’t help it.
He’s just so . . . ” She shook her head.

Carlo studied her. “He’s not a
keeper, you know.”

It was amazing, but she felt
really comfortable talking to Carlo. He was probably the only person on campus
she could actually talk to about this. And it saddened her that she couldn’t
talk to Michaela, the very person she should be talking to.

“I know.”

“So why are you mooning over him?
You’re not supposed to take these kinds of things seriously.”

“I know.” She sighed. “But I
can’t help it.”

He nodded. “You’ll only get
hurt.”

“But isn’t that the same with
anyone else?” she challenged. “You can get hurt any which way. The only thing
you can do if you don’t want to get hurt is to play it safe. Never give your
heart. Only your body.”

Isn’t that what you do?
came the unspoken rebuke.

“There’s a balance in what you
can give,” Carlo replied. “Sometimes, the two lines blur, and you can’t tell
what you’re giving anymore or what you’re taking.”

She wondered if only psychology
students talked like this or if Carlo was practicing to be on the chair at the
side of the couch.

“So tell me about yourself,” she
said. “About
who
you are. How you came to be.”

He grinned. “He didn’t tell you?”

I didn’t ask him
, she
thought. Rust wasn’t exactly the easiest person in the world to talk to. Mostly,
it was just intensely physical between them.

Carlo said, “We don’t choose to
be who we are. We just are. We are born this way, just as you were born the way
you were.”

“So your parents were wolves as
well?”

“Shifters. We are shifters, not
wolves. We are both human and wolf.”

“Are there many of you?”

“Not many of us are left. We are
a dying breed.” He grimaced.

She hesitated, and then plowed
on. “If a shifter were to breed with a pure human, what sort of baby would the
human produce?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not
thinking of trapping him, are you? Because that’s a bad idea. Bad for everyone
concerned.”

“I’m not thinking of trapping
anyone,” she retorted. “It’s a factoid I just want to know.”

“A factoid.” He mulled over this,
and then laughed. “OK. I like that word. ‘Factoid’. Seriously? There haven’t
been many inter-species matings, but you stand a fifty-fifty chance of producing
either one or the other.”

She filed this into her memory
stash. “So what do you guys do for a living? You integrate normally with the
rest of the world?”

“Of course. We don’t live in
secret enclaves and run around naked in caves all day.” His expression
suggested he would like to do just that. “My folks run a burger joint back
home. Mom and Pop outfit.”

“They’re putting you through
college.”

“I’m putting myself through
college. They have three other kids to take care of.”

“Oh? How?”

“I moonlight as a waiter in an
up-market joint.”

“It pays well?”

“That one does. Let’s just say
it’s an unusual kind of joint.” His eyes twinkle. “I’d love to take you there one
day.”

 Her cell phone in her purse went
‘ping’. A text message had arrived.

Carlo leaned forward. Her hand
was at her coffee cup, and his fingers brushed against hers.

“You know,” he murmured, “I was
thinking maybe if sometime you and I can – ”

She curled back her fingers and
moved her hand away. “Excuse me, I have to get this.”

He watched her, eyes glittering,
as she retrieved her phone. She glanced at the display and her heart leaped.

It was Rust!

The message said:

‘WAIT FOR A PICK UP AT THE CORNER
OF GRANT AND FARLOW AT 6 PM TODAY.’

A pick-up? What did that mean? He
was going to pick her up? Her blood churned. So he hadn’t forgotten her after
all. He hadn’t forgotten their ‘exclusivity’. He was going to celebrate with
her!

Right?

Her jubilance must have shown,
because Carlo said bitterly, “It’s him, isn’t it?”

She saw no reason to lie. “Yes.”

“He texts you, and you jump over
the moon?”

“He’s just texting me to make a
date.” Defensiveness rose in her voice.

Carlo leaned back. The
disappointment was clear on his face. “So you are going.”

“Of course.”

“I was going to ask you out on a
date. It would be a proper date too.”

She was perplexed. “Why, Carlo?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to date me?
Because
he’s
dating me?”

“He’s fucking you. You’re not
exactly dating.”

It was crude, but true. Still,
she felt like slapping him. She rose and grabbed her purse.

“Hey.” He stood up too. “I’m
sorry, Kate, OK? I’m just asking you for a date, that’s all.”

“So you can fuck me too? Because
you want what he has?”

He flinched. She had hit home.

“Sorry, Carlo, but I can only be
a fuck doll to one person at a time.” 

She turned and walked away, aware
that he was staring at her in astonishment . . . and maybe admiration. Date
Rust O’Brien, and your stock automatically goes up among those in the know.
That was what she had come to learn.

Besides, she had a very special
date to celebrate.

Her pussy contracted just to
think about it.         

4

At six, Kate waited at the corner
of Grant and Farlow like an obedient little girl. Well, maybe not so little.

She wore a little black dress
which showed her impressive cleavage to good effect. It was cold, and so she
had to top it off with a jacket. Her stockings were sheer and black and she
tottered around in very high black heels.

She attracted a lot of attention
too, waiting there like a fish out of water. People stared at her as they
passed, probably wondering if she was a hooker waiting for an early pick-up.
Hell, she was waiting for a pick-up, and plenty of sex was involved.

She couldn’t help feeling
excited. Rust. He always excited her. Just thinking of him – his clear
green eyes, his dark, dark hair, and his body. Just looking at his body made
her go weak everywhere.

How would he be picking her up? In
his white Beemer?

It was 6.05, and she was starting
to panic. What if he had forgotten about her? What if he decided not to turn up
because she was too needy? She shouldn’t have hung around in the lecture hall
for him. She had probably frightened him away.
I don’t want an emotional
relationship,
she could almost hear him saying.

Then a black limousine drew up.
It stopped right in front of her. It had one of those automatic doors which
slid open.

The driver slid his window down.
“You Kate Penney?”

“Uh, yes.”

Where was Rust?

“I’ve been sent to pick you up by
Professor O’Brien. Please step in.”

Oh. He was giving her the first
class treatment now. This was unexpected. Kate was both astonished and pleased.

She stepped into the back. Rust,
of course, was nowhere to be seen. The door slid shut behind her. The driver
stepped on the gas pedal and they drove off.

Are we going somewhere nice?
Kate wondered.

They were barely two minutes into
the ride when the driver half-turned back and handed her an envelope.

“This is for you, Ms. Kate.”

She took it. It was an embossed
white envelope with a white tiger upon it. There was no doubt who it was from.

“Am I supposed to open it?” she
asked.

“Yes.”

With trepidation, she tore the
envelope open. She was afraid it might say: ‘I’m sorry I can’t join you
tonight, but have one on me.’

She was afraid of being stood up.

There was a note inside the
envelope. It said:

‘DARLING KATE,

LET’S SEE HOW WELL YOU CAN FOLLOW
INSTRUCTIONS.

ARE YOU WEARING PANTIES? IF YOU
ARE, TAKE THEM OFF NOW.

RUST.’

Uh, she was wearing panties. She
was wearing them just in case they needed to go out for dinner and her skirt
was rather short. It was just in case she dropped something and had to bend
over to pick it up, so it was best not to be
too
exposed.

She looked at the back of the
limo driver’s head. Was this a test? Was he supposed to report back to Rust if
she didn’t do as she was instructed?

Uh . . .

She could do this. She had come
so far with Rust. They had come so far together.

She reached down and hiked up her
skirt to the top of her thighs. She was shielded from the driver’s gaze by the
front seat, but she wasn’t sure if there was a camera trained on her. She
hooked her thumbs into her panties and pulled the flimsy fabric off her hips
and down her legs. She wriggled them off her feet.

There. Mission completed. The
driver didn’t turn once. She stuffed the rolled up wad of panties into her
purse.

“Have you done it, Miss?”

Huh? The driver knew what Rust
requested her to do?

“Um, yes.”

“Good. I am instructed to give
you another envelope.” He handed her yet another embossed one.

With trepidation, she took it and
opened it. She hoped Rust was not going to ask her to expose herself to the
driver. Frankly, she wouldn’t put anything past him.

This time, the note said:

‘VERY GOOD, KATE. I LOOK FORWARD
TO SEEING YOU WITHOUT YOUR PANTIES. NOW THE DRIVER WILL TAKE YOU SOMEPLACE
SPECIAL. BE SURE TO FOLLOW FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS WHEN YOU GET THERE.

RUST.’

OK. No exposure. Yet.

“Where are we going?” Kate piped up
timidly.

“It’s a surprise, Miss. I’ve been
told not to tell you until we get there.”

Great. Rust was really laying the
mysterious date thing on thick. She was flattered. Very flattered. This might
be an elaborate fuck game, but it showed he cared enough about it to arrange
everything. Or maybe she was kidding herself that he cared. Maybe he just liked
mind games. Domination and submission games, that was all.

The limo purred down the streets,
stopping at traffic lights and going again. Kate had never been in a car ride
this smooth before. Her lack of underwear was beginning to tell on her. Her
pussy – bare under her short skirt – was leaking. She was careful
to sit with her legs closed tightly lest the driver should turn and glimpse
something he shouldn’t.

They were weaving into a part of
town she had never been to before. Here, the houses were more elaborate. The
apartment blocks looked glitzy and expensive. Her heart leaped when the limo
turned into Hartford Avenue. Hartford Avenue! Wasn’t there where the Professor
lived? She had never been to his penthouse before. They had only ever fucked
away from his home.

But now it was clear that a new
level had been breached. She was going to visit his home.

This had to mean something.

Sure enough, the limo stopped
outside a swanky apartment building about twenty floors high.

“This is where you get off,
Miss.”

“Um, what do I do next?”

“The doorman will tell you.”

She got out, feeling ill at ease.
She was a middle-class girl from a middle-class neighborhood. This area was
clearly the domain of the rich. She knew the Professor lived in Hartford
Avenue, of course, but it never struck her – what it really meant for
both of them – until now.

She was way out of her league.