My Female Alpha

NINETEEN

emery

I debate whether or not to call Lenora for an hour. Denver has been dogging me the entire drive. No matter how terribly I drive, he follows right on my tail.

Half an hour outside of town, I finally get the balls to call her.

"Good morning, love," her raspy voice answers through the line.

"Yeah, hi. Why is Denver stalking me?"

She hesitates. "Uh, well. You weren't supposed to find out." Sighing, she mutters, "That little shit bag."

"Why is he following me, Lenora?"

"To keep you safe."

"Why wouldn't I be safe at my parents'?"

"You should be safe there . . . I also wanted to make sure you would stay down there. Unpleasant things are happening right now and I don't want you anywhere near it."

A maniac driver in a yellow coupe blares his horn as he passes me at like a hundred. I swerve a little in surprise and yelp a disgruntled, "Jesus, fuck."

"Was that a car horn?" asks Lenora in a deadly grave voice that instantly brings me back to our call.

"Yes. Yes, it was."

"Emery, tell me where exactly Denver is following you right this moment."

"We're on the interstate, coming back." My pulse rattles in expectation of her anger. I sense it coming.

"Turn around," she orders. "Turn around right now."

"No. You aren't my mother."

"This isn't a joke, Emery. Turn your ass around and go back to your parents now. You will be in danger if you return."

Now I'm getting annoyed. "I know this is very serious. You can't just tell me what to do. I'm a free person—"

"Then you're staying with me," she says. "Since you won't listen to a damned word I say, which is for your protection by the way, you are staying with me. It's the only way I know you'll be safe."

"What? No. You're still trying to control me!"

"That's final. Denver will call me when you're home and I am coming to get you."

"That is kidnapping, Lenora. You already have a stalker set on me. The charges are adding up."

"Be compliant. You don't realize what's going on, what you're walking into."

"More mafia shit?"

A thunderous growl crosses the line. I blink. What the fuck?

"Drive safe, baby girl," she snarls. "I have to go."

The line clicks off. I sink back into the seat with a huff. Why did I think calling her would work? She's an impregnable force. I could try to lock myself in my apartment, but I have a feeling she'd kick down the door. Also, I am alarmed that the mental image of her doing so is making my pussy ache. What is happening to me?

:: | ::

While I shouldn't be surprised, I still am when I pull into the parking lot and see Lenora leaning against her Jeep. She's dressed in a black v-neck and skin-tight black jeans that show off her athletic figure. Her dark mane lays down her shoulders in long, silky tresses. Though those piercing eyes are hidden behind a pair of reflective aviators, I can feel her gaze through the windshield as I pull up.

My thighs instinctively squeeze together. I don't know how I can go from being so uncertain about my sexuality to being bone-hard for one woman. One incredibly hot, bossy woman. I wish I could convince myself that she's a bitch, but I like her attention too much for my own good.