LOGIN~Valerie~I strip my clothes off in the dark, letting the denim shorts and the thin tank top fall into a heap on the bathroom floor. I don't care about the mess. I don't care about anything except the weight of the water I’m about to put between me and the rest of the world. My skin feels like it’s vibrating, a low-frequency hum that starts at the bite mark on my neck and ends deep between my thighs.I step into the shower and crank the handle until the water is scalding. I want it to burn. I want the heat to match the fire Ronan and Evander started in my blood. As the steam fills the small room, the scent of the Alphas rises from my skin one last time, woodsmoke, winter air, and tobacco, before the soap washes it away.But the memory is stuck. It’s etched into my nerves.I lean my forehead against the cold tiles, letting the hot spray beat down on my back. My hands are trembling as I lift them, my fingers tracing the line of my throat until they hit the swollen, tender skin of the hi
~Valerie~The taxi smells like stale air and old plastic, but it isn’t enough to drown out the scent of what I just did. I’m huddled in the corner of the backseat, my hand clamped tight over my neck. Every time the car hits a bump in the road, I wince. The bruise Ronan left is throbbing, a deep, hot pulse that tells me he didn't just bite me, he branded me.My skin feels tight and itchy. It’s the dried slickness of Evander’s touch. It’s everywhere. I feel heavy, used, and completely messy.I grab my reflection in the window, panicked. I look like a wreck. My hair is wild, my lips are swollen, and my eyes are too bright. I immediately start pulling my curls forward, draping them over my left shoulder. I need to hide that mark. If anyone sees that dark, purple hickey, they’ll know. They’ll know I was pinned against a wall by a man who is supposed to be my guardian.I feel like a criminal hiding the leads to the evidence.I reach into my bag and pull out a pack of wet wipes. My hands are
~Valerie~My legs are fucking Dede. Every step away from that VIP area feels like I’m dragging my body through thick, hot coals. My inner thighs are slick, sticking together with every stride, and the air hitting the wetness between my legs is a sharp, cold reminder of what just happened.I’m shaking. Not because I’m scared, though I should be, but because my nerves are fried. My skin is still humming, vibrating from the way Evander just handled me. It’s a raw, scorching heat that won't settle.I stumble down the back stairs, my heels clicking like a countdown on the wood, and duck into the staff locker room. It’s pitch black. I don't turn on the light. I can't look at myself in the mirror right now. I don't want to see the flushed, wrecked face of the girl who just let the Vice President finger her into a mindless puddle while she was supposed to be pinning away for the President.I lean against the cold metal of the lockers, gasping for air that smells like old gym bags and industri
~Valerie~He peels the denim down my thighs, the rough material scraping over my hips, dragging my lace underwear with it until the cool air hits my bare skin.I should feel exposed. I should feel ashamed. Instead, I feel a reckless, desperate heat. I want this. I want him to stop talking and start ruining me.He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, his grip like iron manacles. He’s looking at me with those amber eyes, stripping away every lie I’ve ever told myself about being innocent."You’re so wet for a girl who was just crying over another man," he grunts.Then, his palm, cups my pussy. My body trembles. My legs quiver. He starts to stroke his fingers through my folds. His fingers are thick, calloused, and searingly hot. He doesn't go gentle on me. He presses his palm over my curls, the warmth sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I let out a sharp, broken moan, my head thumping back against the wall.His lips hover over mine, tempting. He watches me, his fac
~Valerie~My shift is finally drawing to a close. The air in the club is thick, smelling of spilled bourbon and the heavy exhaust of the bikes that just roared out of the parking lot. My body is exhausted, myfeet aching from hours of weaving through the rowdy crowd, but my mind is still buzzing. I couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter with them, I feel a pull, a magnetic drag toward the floor above.I did everything possible to make sure I don’t go running back there, begging for their touches. I slip into the staff locker room, the quiet a new relief to my system. I pull the ties of my work apron loose and peel it off. As I start to fold the heavy fabric, my fingers hit something hard and cold tucked deep into the front pocket.I pull it out. It’s a heavy brass tag, circular and thick, with the number four stamped into the metal.My heart hammers against my ribs so hard it hurts. A room key. It wasn't there when I started my shift. Someone must have slipped it in while I was le
~Valerie~The tray feels heavier with every step I take toward the Staff Lounge. My heart is a heavy drum against my ribs, and my skin is still prickling from the way Rikky looked at me. I’m walking into a room where the club’s top tier, the men who make the real decisions, are meeting. I’m carrying the scent of their President and Vice President on my neck like a brand.I expect to be pinned the moment I cross the threshold. I expect Ronan’s gray eyes to burn through me and Evander’s amber gaze to strip me bare. I’m ready for the danger. I’m craving the moment they see me and lose that iron control again.I push the heavy door open with my shoulder, my breath held tight.But the room is quiet.I walk to the long, scarred wooden table in the center, my boots muffled by the thick rug. I look at the head of the table, toward the two high-backed leather chairs that usually hold the weight of the club’s power.They are empty.The thrones are vacant. The dark pride I felt earlier, the heat







