Alpha Noah

~Abella

“Oh my, this is perfect!”

I stare down at my boiling pasta, stirring it mindlessly. Sam is jumping around behind me, wearing next to nothing in just her bra and short shorts. She wine drunk, having just heard the news about my new job, and the new place I’ll be living. I expected her to be sad, that I would be leaving down, but by the way she dances around to the music, she couldn’t be happier.

“You do realise that I’ll be living over half an hour away, right? No more of these late night meet ups where you walk home and I get stalked in the dark,” I comment, glancing over my shoulder to see her stumbling around in my lounge, wine bottle in hand.

“They will still be happening, trust me,” she tells me, grinning at me. “If you think I’m not coming to visit when you’re living with the Alpha you’re crazy.”

Of course that’s Sam’s motive.

“I promise, he isn’t the guy you think he is,” I comment, turning the stove off to poor the pot of pasta into a strainer in the sink.

“Why not?” she asks, sounding breathless.

I think back to the conversation we had today before I was sent home. “He has girls all over this Pack who are obsessed with him, and he pays them no mind. And by the sounds of it, he’s sleeping with his assistant, so I’m not sure why I’m hoping he is a moral man. All I’m saying, is stay away from him. He’s not a good person.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that myself. I’m sure him and I will stumble into each other and sparks will fly and I’ll be the new Luna,” she says confidently. That wine has really gotten to her head. If she saw what he was like, she wouldn’t be saying this.

“I’m pretty sure the Luna has to be his mate”-Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

I’m cut off by a knock at the door. Both Sam and I freeze; she even leans over to turn the music down. I never called for anyone to be here at this hour. Sam shrugs, so I approach the door, cracking it open slightly.

“I heard there was a party.” It’s Cian. He holds two boxes of alcohol in his hand, looking at me expectantly. “I come with drinks.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Sam says from behind me, brushing past me to fling the door open. Cian grins with that smile that only belongs to him. He walks past me, right into my apartment, winking at me. Oh great.

“This isn’t a party,” I tell him firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “How did you even know to bring alcohol here?”

My words seem to fall on deaf ears, as Sam motions for Cian to come into the living room with her, as he puts the drinks on the table. I lean against my front door, staring at his back. I hate this charismatic asshole who think he can just walk in here like he owns the place. Sam is drunk, but even if she wasn’t, his eyes alone could get her into bed.

“Come on Abella, I love your new, fun life,” Sam comments, grabbing Cian’s hand. He lets her. What is his motive? When he glances back at me, he has a wicked glint in his eye. He’s messing with me. I’ve just let a monster into my home.

“Fun life, huh?” Cian comments, looking down at a half naked Sam.

Sam twirls around. “Look at all these boxes, Abella is moving, can you believe it? She’s moving in with that hot Alpha. It’s fine though, I’m sure we can keep each other company in her absence. Like I said, she has such a fun life.”

Cian looks back at me, and I swear I see a flash of anger in his expression, before it vanishes. I can’t help but smile, knowing I’ve gotten the better of him.

“You know what, why don’t we play a game?” Cian proposes.

Sam lights up with excitement, clapping her hands. She doesn’t know this man, and now she’s opening herself up to his charms. For all I know, he could be here to kill us, although I’m sure that is absurd. He’s here to get to me, whether it is to mess with me, or romantically. Either way, by tomorrow, he won’t be an issue anymore.

“It’s a drinking game. Whoever gives up first, loses. The punishment is up to the winner,” Cian offers, ripping into one of the boxes.

“I think you need to go, Sam is drunk enough,” I remind him.

Both Cian and I glance at Sam, who has fallen onto the couch, muttering something about how excited she is about the game, and how sexy Cian looks in the shirt he is wearing. Another few drinks and she would blackout.

“Okay, then just you and me then?” Cian offers, handing me a bottle as I approach. I look at the percentage. It’s high. The last thing I need is to get drunk around Cian. “Hey, don’t give me that look. It will be fun, and this might be the last time I see you. And if you win, you can just wish me away. And I always keep my side of the bet.”

“You know what, fine,” I say, popping the lid open.

I’m going to try win if it’s the last thing I do. I don’t drink much, but the sheer willpower to get rid of this pest from my life is strong enough that I’m confident I’ll win. Cian joins me in popping the lid of a bottle open, the smirk on his lips flirting in his eyes.

“Maybe you should sit down for this one,” he comments, motioning into the couch in my living room. I shake my head at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If that’s what you need, go ahead, but I don’t think I need your pity,” I tell him confidently. I’m trying to sike him out, make him think I can last longer then I actually can, but he doesn’t seem bothered. In less than a few seconds, he downs the entire bottle, before nodding at me to follow suit. He doesn’t even look bothered.

I do so, screwing my face up at the taste.

Cian and I manage to get three more bottles through before things started to blur, everything feeling woozy, my sense of stability starting to wash away with all the alcohol I’m drinking. Cian hasn’t even flinched, knocking each bottle down with ease, standing still, watching me, that smirk never dying.

My tolerance isn’t as high as I thought, and now I’m undeniably drunk. If I drink anymore, I’ll most likely be like Sam, who is passed out on the couch. But there’s not way I’m going to lose this competition. Not when the stakes are this high.

But is it me, or does Cian look beyond hot right now? Like, if he even took one glance in the direction of my bedroom, I would drag him in there myself.

What am I thinking.

“I think that is enough alcohol for you,” Cian says, plucking the last bottle from my hand, putting it down on the table. I look at it longingly, but I don’t have the chance to grab it again, as Cian wraps his arm around my waist, and leads me toward the free couch Sam isn’t crashed on.

Stumbling onto it, I can’t help my giggle, as he comes to sit next to me. I breathe in his scent, so citrus like, with a hint of sweetness. Just his smell alone has me leaning into him, before I lay my head on his shoulder.

“How are you not drunk?” I slur. I watched him down more bottles than me.

“Maybe I’m just immune,” he comments, looking down at me. Even his breath smells minty, strangely enough. I’m too drunk to think about that right now…

Sitting up, I look at him intently. “Can I touch you hair? It’s so magical and pretty. Man, what am I talking about? I should be kicking you out of my house right now so I can go to sleep. I’m so tired. And turned on.”

Any control of my speech has vanished, and now I’m just saying what first comes to mind. Cian doesn’t seem bothered though, simply amused, as he observes me with that smirk of his. I love that smirk. I love that mouth, and those full lips. Why did I ever reject him in the first place?

“Touch me wherever you like, Abella. You’re not going to remember this by tomorrow anyway,” he murmurs. His voice is buttery soft, like melting honey poured across my skin.

“What’s my punishment for losing?” I question.

Cian leans back in his seat, considering it. It could be anything, but my drunk self is excited for what he might have up his sleeve. He’s so creative. The way he tries to get to me is so… sexy.

“Why don’t you kiss me?” he asks softly, looking at me with those blazing eyes. He’s not forcing me, just asking.

So of course, in my drunk mind, I sit up, swing my leg over his hips and straddle him, grinning down at him. I can feel how bad this is, how I’ll regret it tomorrow. But I want to dig my hands into that golden hair, and kiss those lips and that neck…

“Good girl,” he murmurs, before I grab his face between my hands and kiss him.

I’m so drunk, I’m numb, but through it all, I still feel the fluttering feeling of sparks throughout me. I ignore them though, too busy concentrating on the kiss, his lips, his tongue, his touch. It’s aggressive, it’s hot, making me heat up to the point where I’m not sure if I can take anymore.

His hands roam my body, his touch leaving a trace of sparks across my skin. It feels so good, as they move over my hips, under my shirt and across my waist, gripping and tugging at me, pulling me closer against him.

“You feel so good,” I breathe against his lips, as he pulls my hips down against him, until I can feel the hard length of him against.

I can feel the rush of a laugh against me, before he kisses me again.

Finally, I dig my hands into his hair, and it’s just as soft as I thought. I can’t help but pull on it, pulling him even closer to me, if that’s possible.

I never want this to end.