Page 89 of Fourth Base with the Alpha
The cab ride is agony. Luckily the driver is a beta, more interested in chatting to his friend on the phone than paying attention to the girl rolling around in agony in the back of his car and leaving a puddle on his seats. I draw down all the windows, wishing I could stick my head out the window like a dog. The breeze streaming through does little to cool my scorching skin and by the time I climb from the car, that familiar ache starts between my legs. Halfway up the steps to the apartment block entrance, a cramp has me bent double. I pant through the pain, eventually hauling myself up the steps.
I almost sob with relief when I see the elevator has been fixed and I’m not forced to climb all those flights of stairs.
It’s a Monday morning. My mom is out at work and my grandma is out playing bingo at the church hall. The apartment is silent and stuffy when I collapse through the door. I drag myself to the kitchen, stripping off all my clothes and lying out naked on the cool kitchen floor. I’m streaming slick and all I can think of is Hunter, how he’d put this all right. How good he’d smell in rut. How good he’d feel in rut.
Shit, thinking about it has a series of cramps rocking through my womb and so much slick pouring from me I’m making a mess of the floor.
I watch the fan circulate on the ceiling doing little to cool the room and eventually the tiles no longer feel comfortable. Dragging myself onto my hands and knees, I wipe up the mess I’ve made and crawl with my bundle of clothes through to my bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind me.
Sitting on my bed, snuggled under the covers is Mr Teddy. I dive straight for him like a woman possessed, burying my nose deep in his fur and inhaling lungful after lungful of that pine scent. It electrifies every part of my needy body and I nearly come right there, holding the soft toy to my sensitive skin and breathing in the man I wish was here.
21
Hunter
A video shootseems especially cruel. The presence of beautiful women hired to dance around us while we pretend to play our instruments, only serves to remind me of the beautiful woman missing. I pretend I’m not looking out for her, when of course my heart quivers in my chest waiting for her to arrive.
Kim was here waiting for us when we rocked up an hour ago. Isabella should have been at her side helping out today. There are always a crap load of tasks that need doing on a video shoot.
I thought perhaps she’d gone to fetch coffee or was hiding in one of the side rooms. But even after I’ve had the bags under my eyes concealed, my hair styled and am forced into jeans and a leather jacket, she’s not here.
The director seems to love my ‘smoldering’ looks, and I don’t correct him. I’m not smoldering. I’m scowling. Because where the hell is she? Did she quit? Because of me? Because of everything that happened?
When the music cuts out and the director instructs everyone to take five while they fiddle with the lighting, I march straight up to Kim, who is scrolling through her phone at the back of the studio. Two of the models attempt to intersect my path and start a conversation, one shoving her tits up against me.
I side step them, ignoring their irritated tuts, and halt in front of Kim.
“Hunter,” she says, not looking up from her screen. “How can I help you?”
“Where’s Isabella?”
“Taking a personal day.”
“Why? Is she sick?”
Kim peers up at me, lowering her phone to her lap. “You know I can’t divulge personal information about employees.”
“Bullshit. Is she sick?”
“Can I ask you why you care?”
“No, you can’t.”
“You like her?”
A hand slams down on my back and Trey steps around me. “He’s crazy for her. You know that, Kim.”
Kim grins. “I know that. You know that, Trey. The whole fucking world knows it. But does Hunter know it?” I glare at her. “You want me to tell you, then I need to hear it from you, Hunter,” she says seriously.
“Yes, I’m crazy about her. Properly gone for this woman. Okay?” I grumble.
“Shit, man,” Trey shakes his head, “you are going to have to do better than that.”
“What?”
“When you tell her how you feel.”
“Who says I’m telling her?”
