She rubs the tip of her nose against my chest and smiles. “I like the sound of that. And then what?”
“Then I help you move your stuff into my apartment and you stay with me forever.”
I study her carefully, wondering if she’s going to try and wriggle out of that by saying it’s too soon, but Alaina just blinks slowly and smiles up at me. “That sounds perfect.”
Yeah, it really fucking does.
She sits up and stretches her arms over her head. The sheets drop away and her long hair cascades down her back. I stroke her back, admiring how beautiful she looks against the bright winter day.
Alaina turns around and looks at me, her nipples turning into tight peaks. She’s not the least bit bashful about her nakedness and I feel myself getting hard again in response.
“What are we supposed to tell people who ask how we got together?”
I lay back and pull her astride me. She feels my cock between her thighs and she rubs her pussy against me. “The truth. That I loved you from afar all my life, and when I couldn’t take not being with you a second longer, I swept you off your feet.”
Alaina grinds against me, smiling wickedly. “You make it sound so romantic.”
I grasp the hilt of my cock and lift Alaina up, so she can slide down my length. She teases me by only taking an inch or so and then rising up again.
“It is romance, baby. It’s true romance.”
She smiles at me as she sinks down fully on my cock with a luxurious moan. “I love you, too.”
“Yeah, that. You always put things better than me. I fucking love you, Alaina.”
I sit up and wrap my arms around her, capturing the last of her moan with my lips. Now that I’ve taken her, I’m never going to let her go.
About Brianna Hale
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There’s nothing Brianna Hale likes more than a large, stern alpha male with a super-protective and caring streak, and when she's not writing about them she can usually be found with a book, a cocktail, planning her next trip to a beautiful location or attending the theatre. She believes that pink and empowerment aren’t mutually exclusive, and everyday adventures are possible. Brianna lives in London.
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Veil
M.A. Foster
Chapter One
Cannon
I’d forgotten how boring graduations are. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve been to a college graduation, and it was my own. Just before the ceremony comes to an end, I slip outside the auditorium, where other family members are already waiting to greet the new grads.
Finding shade under an oak tree, I pull out my phone and scroll through my emails. Commotion soon drags my attention to the doors, graduates trickling out of the building. While scanning the faces for my little sister, Heather, my gaze is snagged by a beautiful young woman, and my breath catches.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
It’s been a long time since a woman captured my attention like this. She’s goddamn perfect. Young but legal. That’s good enough for me. My knee-jerk thought is I want to play with her.
She’s standing with an elderly couple and a man in an expensive suit. His back is to me, but there’s something familiar about his voice. I narrow my eyes behind my sunglasses, trying to figure out where I know him from.
“Who are you looking at?” Heather asks, hooking her arm through mine.
“Do you know her?” I jerk my chin to the blonde, who’s currently hugging the older gentleman who I assume is her father—possibly her grandfather.
Heather narrows her eyes on the girl. “That’s Makayla. We had a few classes together. Why?”
I flash her a devilish grin.
“Cannon.” She groans, then gestures to the man. “She’s taken.”
Right then, the mystery man turns just enough, giving me a view of his profile. Victor Martin.
My grin widens. Today is my lucky day.
“Go congratulate your friend.” I place a hand on Heather’s back between her shoulders and give her a little nudge, then drop my gaze to the phone still clutched in my hand and flip through my contacts until I find the number I need. “Get her number and ask if she’d like to have lunch sometime.”
“No, Cannon. The last time I played your middleman, it backfired horribly.”
“Courtney was a psycho,” I defend.
“Pot, kettle.” She rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you ask a woman out the old-fashioned way?”
“Because I’m not old-fashioned,” I deadpan. “Go.” I wave her off. “I’ll meet you at the car.” Turning away, I weave through the crowd before pressing the Call button and bringing the phone to my ear. I’m about to hang up when he finally answers after the third ring. “Victor Martin.”
“Makayla is lovely,” I purr in lieu of a greeting.
There’s a brief pause, so I stop and turn to see Victor scanning the crowd until he spots me. I give him a little finger wave.
“She’s mine,” he growls into the receiver.
“Tsk tsk, Victor. So greedy. Does she know where you’ve been the last three days?”
“Fuck off, Cannon,” he snaps. “I paid you well.”
“You owe me.”
He barks out a laugh. “You’re still pissed about that?”
I say nothing. Instead, I turn my back on him and head for my car.
“What do you want?”
“I want Makayla.”
He huffs in frustration. “You can't be serious.”
Again, I say nothing.
“I’m supposed to just give her to you?” he continues. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Considering you’ve been pissing away your inheritance at Veil the last couple of months, I’d say it’s time to let her go.”
“She only moved in with me a few days ago. I can’t—”
“I don’t care,” I cut him off. “Why would you move her in
