Alpha’s Sun: An MC Werewolf Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 12)

Titus

I don’t know what in the fuck I’m doing. If I believed she was capable of it, I would say Sunny is truly a witch and she cast a spell on me.

But that’s obviously not her speed. She’s not looking to tangle anyone into her web.

Not intentionally, anyway.

Yet, tangled I am. That’s the only explanation I have for why I feel it’s necessary to drive her bus out to her with supplies in the back to make her flower boxes.

It’s stupid, really.

I should just be dropping the vehicle off and then slink off to shift and sniff around her place to see what I can find. I have a job to do for Alpha Green.

Instead I’m set on playing gardener to a woman who doesn’t want my help.

Fuck-nuts crazy.

And yet when Sunny bursts out the door in all her sunny glory when I pull up, I forget all my grudging reluctance. Her hair is pulled up on the top of her head in a messy bun that makes her look taller and more slender. The smile that stretches across her face could light a major city.

And just seeing her relieves some gnawing sense of wrongness I’ve had ever since I left her there last night.

“It’s already fixed?” She bounds toward me. “That’s wonderful!”

“I leaned on them a little bit.” As in, I rode out there and stood over the fuckers until it was done. I’m probably lucky the pack didn’t turn on me, but I got the sense the alpha had ruled this was my due, so the coyote had to comply.

Sunny gives me a quick peck on the cheek. I don’t mean to, but my arm instantly bands around her and pulls that lithe body up to mine. “Oh!” The surprised little breathy sound makes my dick hard.

Or maybe it’s having her frankincense and roses scent up in my nostrils. Or the soft give of her braless breasts.

“Busy this morning?” I grit out before I throw her over my shoulder and find a sturdy surface to fuck her on. A picnic table nearby would do, if it didn’t have blocks of red clay and a large stick shaped item sticking up. Something about the shape makes me frown. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh.” A splash of pink spreads between her freckles. “A little something I was working on. I was feeling inspired.”

I pretend to examine the upright root. “What is it?”

“It’s, ah, something I’m working on.” She tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear and gazes at me with wide eyes. Slowly, my brain interprets the crude shape. I do a double take. Yep, the clay is shaped like a dick.

“The fuck?”

“Phallic art was very common in ancient civilizations. These models were symbols of fertility and thought to bring good luck.” She raises her chin as she lectures me. “Anyway, I modeled it after you.”

“Too small,” I growl. I don’t know what the hell else to say. Was she going to fire that clay and use it on herself? My cock’s about to split my jeans. I turn away before I do something stupid, like sweep her art supplies to the ground and show her no clay model can compare to the real thing.

“Do you want it?” Sunny tentatively asks my back.

Hell no. I already got one, baby. “Keep it. Something to remember me by.”

There’s a long awkward pause while I think of sweaty football players to get my dick to calm down.

Sunny clears her throat. “So, do you need me to give you a ride back to town?”

Ouch. She’s in a hurry to get rid of me.

Damn.

“Yeah. After I put something together.” I open the side door of the bus and pull out the planters, potting soil and flowers.

Sunny gasps. “Titus!”

I don’t look at her, because if I do, I’m afraid she’s gonna end up on her knees in the dirt. With me banging her from behind. Instead, I grunt and stomp past, thunking down the heavy planters, one on either side of her door. I fill them half full with soil and then place the three different varieties of flowers the hardware store gardener recommended and tuck them into the planter. I repeat with the other side. The whole time Sunny’s flitting behind me, making approving sounds.

I finish by packing the flowers in with more soil and stand up, brushing the dirt off my knees. “You have any water?”

I turn around and find Sunny already prepared with a plastic pitcher in her hand.

“Oh!” There’s a slosh when our hands collide and water splashes over the front of her tank top. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, hard and perky.

I try to look up. I really do. But the message isn’t getting from my brain to my eyes. They are glued to those tight buds. My mouth waters. I clear my throat.

Neither of us moves. I’m not sure either of us breathes.

Three… two… one: My control snaps.

The pitcher crashes to the ground, splattering water over our legs. The RV nearly tips over with the impact of our bodies hitting the side. I claim her mouth violently at the same time I pinch one nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

She squeals her protest and I release my fingers, kneading her soft breast as I bite and lick down her neck.

“Come here,” I growl, picking her up and carrying her inside.

Every pleasure center fires just having her in my arms, knowing I’m so close to claiming her.

I carry her to the mattress and lay her down, shoving the tank top up to give her nipples more attention. I scrape my teeth over them, pinch and pull. Suck and kiss.

“Oh, Titus. You’re driving me crazy.”

The crazy is mutual, sunshine. And there’s no other name for it, that’s for sure.

“You want me to touch you here, baby?” I cup her mons, rub over her thin linen shorts. I’m trying to dial my aggression back and make sure she actually wants this. Especially considering she was busy getting rid of me when I arrived.

She wriggles against my hand. “No.”

I go still.

Fuck.

“I want Spartacus.”

“What?”

She pushes me back, straddles my legs and unzips my jeans. Releasing my cock, she grips me at the base. “This is Spartacus.”

“Huh?”

“Your dick. I nicknamed it Spartacus.”

“What? No.”

“Spartacus.” She gives me a stroke that makes my balls sit up and beg. “Because it rises to the occasion.”

“What?” I fight to keep my train of thought. “Don’t call it that.”

“I’m Spartacus,” she mock growls and then giggles.

“Stop. No.”

But then she lowers her mouth and licks around the head.

“Yes. Hell yes, more of that.”

“You like this?” She uses a mock innocent voice. Her cock-tease is making me lose my mind.

“Less talking, more sucking, woman,” I growl.

“Okay, wolf.” She takes me all the way into her mouth and the shudder of pleasure that rips through me nearly knocks over the RV.

Crazy fucking female, naming my cock.

As she sucks, I reach to unbutton her thin linen shorts and pull them off. It fucking kills me that she never wears panties. Makes her even more of a temptation knowing that pussy is right there.

I cup her pussy. When I rub my thumb over her slit, I find it sopping wet. Ready. “You want to get fucked by Spartacus?”

Fates, what’s wrong with me? Now I’m calling my dick by her pet name, too. Out loud.

Ridiculous.

And kinda hot.

“Yes,” she warbles.

I rise and switch places with her so I can drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit and back down again. She tastes like magic.

Moonlight and fairy dust. Flower petals and gemstones.

And that makes no fucking sense, so clearly I’m out of my mind.

I’m gonna blame the upcoming full moon for all this crazy. The full moon and this wild, wonderful woman beneath me.

I yank my jeans off. “You want him now?”

“Now.” She claws my shirtsleeves and yanks me down over her, her lips parted.

Oh fates.

The world spins when we kiss. The earth shakes.

Oh wait, that might be the RV.

Or if it’s not, it’s definitely going to be soon.

I spear her with my erection, watching her expressive face contort with passion. Her eyes roll back in her head, mouth drops open. The moan she makes should be on autoplay for every porn video ever made.

“That’s it, love,” I croon, even though I’ve never been the sweet bedroom talk kinda guy. It just rolls off my tongue with ease.

I pull my hips back and shove in again, this time allowing myself to sink into my own pleasure. She feels so good. So right. She’s small and human and I could split her in two with my massive erection, yet she receives every thrust with softness, with generosity.

She’s the kind of woman who could give and give and give.

And I have no idea what makes me draw that conclusion, but I know it to be true.

“You feel so good, sunshine. So good.”

“Conquer, Spartacus.”

A laugh explodes from my chest. I brace myself on my fists beside her head and plow deep with hard rhythmic thrusts that definitely rock the Airstream.

She makes these crazy keening sounds. Desperate and needy and somehow appreciative.

I fuck her until she loses her mind and babbles nonsense. I fuck her until I lose my mind. And then I pinch both her nipples at once and demand, “Come.”

She does. Her pussy clamps down on my dick and then spasms as she climaxes.

I wait until she’s done and push her to her side and shove her thigh up for a different angle. Perfection.

I ride her this way until I come, fireworks going off behind my eyes, the room somersaulting around and around.

When my vision clears, I fall down and wrap an arm around her waist. Spoon her. “I didn’t know how badly I needed this,” I confess.

Fates, what’s wrong with me? I never talk about feelings and now I’m spilling everything? It’s like I’ve been given truth serum or something. “I didn’t know how good it would feel,” I go on.

“Sexual healing, baby,” Sunny says with a satisfied air.

I stiffen, images of her doing this with countless others running through my head. She’s a free-loving, free-spirited soul born a little too late to join the hippie movement of the sixties.

“Easy, big guy.” She rolls over. “Don’t get jealous.”

I don’t know how she reads my mind like that. Witchy woman.

“How many?” I choke.

She places her good hand flat on my chest and swings a leg over my lap, straddling me. “Listen to me, Titus. You don’t get to ask that.”

“You’re right,” I say quickly. I’m way out of line. I don’t know why I feel so damn possessive of this woman.

This woman who won’t be claimed.

Sunny

Titus thinks I chose this lifestyle out of frivolity.

But the truth is, he’s not the only one who left a relationship with a wound that never closed.

And even though I never talk about it, it feels important to tell him.

“All I ever wanted was to settle down and have a family.”

Titus snorts, but when he sees I’m serious, he stills.

“I got married young. Just a year out of high school. To a nice young man. He was an actuary for an insurance firm. He wanted children—at least three. And he wanted to be the big man and support me to stay at home and raise the kids.”

Titus stares at me with disbelief, like I might be making a long joke.

“I wanted kids for as long as I can remember. Since I was carrying around dolls at age three, probably, so it seemed perfect.”

Titus gets tense. “What happened?” There’s a warning growl in his voice, like he’s going to go back and rip Jack’s head off or something.

“We got married in a church with our family and friends and bought a little two bedroom house in Kansas City. I cooked and cleaned and planted flowers and waited to get pregnant.”

I see comprehension dawn on Titus’ face. Comprehension mingled with horror. He strokes a large, rough palm up my thigh. It’s not sexual—more like he’s trying to soothe me.

“It took a year and a half just to get pregnant. And believe me, we were trying. I took my temperature every morning, tracked my cycle. I knew when I was ovulating. I don’t know what was wrong. The doctors couldn’t figure it out. Eventually I got pregnant.”

“And you lost it.” The sympathy in Titus’ gaze is almost too much to bear.

I blink rapidly. “Biggest disappointment of my life,” I choke.

He squeezes both my thighs, then tugs me down to cover his body where he wraps me up in his arms. “I’m sorry, angel. It must’ve been awful.”

“Yeah. My own private nightmare. After three more miscarriages, Jack couldn’t take it anymore. He asked for a divorce and kicked me out. He remarried six months later and his new wife got pregnant immediately.”

“Christ, Sunny.” Titus’ voice cracks a little.

I shrug against his chest. The sadness I buried so deeply, the one I’ve been running from all these years surfaces, but lying on Titus’ strong chest makes it seem less consuming than it used to feel. “I had no college education. I didn’t want to go crawling back to my parents, especially because they hadn’t supported me marrying so young. I didn’t want to hear I told you so.

“A friend of a friend who made jewelry for a living invited me to join her on the arts and crafts circuit. I helped her while I figured out what I could make that would sell and not compete with her, and I’ve been doing the circuit ever since.”

“And then you met Foxfire’s dad? What happened with him?”

“Johnny. Yeah. He wasn’t the settle down and marry type. He was a very kind man. We had a spark immediately. Like you and me.”

Titus’ brow wrinkles but his gray eyes remain intent on my face and he doesn’t interject anything.

“He had a really backwards family. Some kind of cult, really. And they wouldn’t allow him to leave the flock or marry or anything. He was out selling wares on the circuit, too. That’s how we met. We hooked up. It was his first time with a woman, and he didn’t even think about condoms. I didn’t insist because—well, I knew I’m not exactly Fertile Myrtle and he was obviously clean.”

“But you got pregnant.”

“Yes. We’d already parted ways when I found out, and he felt terrible. He talked about leaving his cult to come and live with me, but I didn’t want that kind of pressure. I’d already had the picket fence and the provider husband and it sucked. The pressure to be perfect was too much to live up to, you know?”

Titus’ jaw flexes. “Yeah, but he had a responsibility for the kit. I mean your little girl.”

I laugh. “Did you call her a kit because of her name? That’s so cute.”

Titus’ steel-gray gaze bores a hole through me.

“He did the best he could. He sent cash when he could scrape it together, but he was as poor as I was. I sent pictures. It worked out fine. Honestly, it’s probably easier to raise a child on your own. No one to argue with about how they should be raised.”

Titus shrugs. “True. Although I still don’t get how a parent could live without their child. It’s unnatural.”

I tilt my head, noticing the clouds in his aura. “You never forgave her for leaving, did you?”

Titus stiffens, his abs going rock hard like he requires protection. I run my fingernails lightly down his chest, over his belly.

“No, I didn’t. But she didn’t just leave us. She cost me my job. My livelihood. She embezzled thousands of dollars from the company I worked for and then took off.”

I can’t hide my shock. “Wow. Total betrayal.”

“Right.”

“I’ll bet you felt like you didn’t even know who she was after she left.”

He leans up on his elbows. “Exactly. How do you know that?”

I shrug. “I felt the energy of it. I’m so sorry, Titus. So you have to know it had nothing to do with you, right? That’s just the kind of person she is. She would’ve done that with anyone.”

“I was the idiot who decided to mate—I mean, marry her.”

“No. Don’t make yourself wrong. Your choice resulted in Tank. How can you possibly regret that?”

Titus’ face softens. “You’re right. Yeah. Totally.” He scrubs a hand through his beard. After a beat, he says, “I get it now.”

“What?”

“Why you won’t settle down.”

I hold my breath, not sure I want to hear his assessment of me. This is usually when I get my feelings hurt.

“You felt like you failed at it.”

Tears spear my eyes. Titus lifts a hand and cups my cheek. “But the truth is, sunshine, you were perfect. I know you believe the Universe has your back and all that shit. Maybe the Universe just didn’t want you to get stuck with that asshole raising pasty-faced weakling children. The Universe wanted you to have a big, bold bright daughter who is strong and as eccentric as you are.”

I eyeball him. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment.”

“Hell, yeah, it’s a compliment. You did a fine job raising a child with smarts, grit, and the spirit of a warrior. So how can that be wrong?”

I grin at him like an idiot. He grins back. Then my stomach growls.

“Let’s ride back into town and grab some lunch before you go out to the gorge,” Titus offers.

“Yeah, okay.” I climb off him, allowing the warm glow from his words to surround me. I pull on a little sundress and slip into a pair of sandals. For the first time with Titus, I feel like we might be on the same page, and I really like the way it feels.

Titus

After lunch, Sunny leaves me at my place and heads out to the bridge to work.

I’m still anxious to get back and sniff around Sunny’s RV in wolf form, but I’m going to wait until tonight. The moon is full. If there are other shifters around, they might be out on the hunt. I may find what I’m looking for.

In the meantime, I head into town and stop into the local dive bars, asking about my buddy Buzz.

No one’s heard of him. And I don’t get the sense they’re lying, either. Maybe my friend isn’t in these parts anymore.

I end up walking through the plaza. Everything reminds me of Sunny. The cantina where we had drinks. The place I was standing when I heard her car wreck. The roof where she gave me the worst cock tease of my life.

Where these thoughts used to grate on me, now all I feel is warmth for the beautiful human. Hearing about her past pain made it all clear to me now. She’s been running to avoid the kind of rejection she received from her husband.

I want to smash his head in, even though I’m so glad she isn’t married to him anymore. Still, the pain he put her through. She must’ve felt so inadequate and alone when he threw her out.

A growl comes from my throat and the tourists walking by skitter past.

I want to show Sunny she doesn’t have to be afraid of rejection. She can settle down again. Not to raise a family, obviously, but to live in a real house. With flowerbeds.

And me.

Wait, no. That’s crazy. I’m a wolf.

She’s a human.

Relationships with humans are forbidden.

Look at Garrett, my wolf whispers. My alpha’s son Garrett took a human mate. The excuse was that she’s psychic. Has special abilities.

But my Sunny’s special, too. She may not be full-on psychic, but she’s certainly highly intuitive. She saw my wolf in her mind’s eye. On some level, she knows what I am, she just doesn’t have a context for it in this reality.

I find myself outside the chocolate shop where Sunny went the other day after we quarrelled, and I push through the door. A cheerful bell tied around the doorknob rings and Sunny’s friend from yoga looks up with a smile.

“Oh, hi,” she chirps. “You’re Sunny’s friend.”

Is it weird that I’m pissed she didn’t say I’m Sunny’s man?

Definitely.

“Yes. I’m Titus.”

“Adele.” She sticks her hand out across the counter and I shake it. The place smells like sugar and chocolate and… the faint scent of coyote.

Please tell me she’s not dating one of those low-life coyotes. Adele seemed way better than that. And that’s saying something, since she’s human.

“What can I get you?”

I do a quick sweep of the glass cases. “What, ah… what does Sunny like from here?”

A wide grin splits Adele’s face. “Are you buying her a gift? I have just the thing!” She picks up a little box and uses the tongs to fill it with four perfect little truffles. They’re like tiny art masterpieces. Too pretty to eat, really. “She will love this.” She pops a lid on the box and wraps it up with a pretty ribbon.

I pull out my wallet. “How much?”

“Ten dollars, please.”

Christ, ten bucks for four truffles. I guess they taste as good as they look. But I don’t care. I would’ve paid fifty bucks for something that makes Sunny feel special. I hand over a ten dollar bill and accept the little box. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

I take the gift and walk out with a spring in my step. I made plans to see Sunny again tomorrow.

Tonight, I’ll go out by her RV in wolf form and sniff around, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’m hoping I get more information—anything of value—before I call my alpha with a report.