Crazy for the Alpha (Sequel to Tutoring the Alpha)

Chapter Four: The Rager

Benny's POV

              I was awoken by an incessant knocking on our bedroom door. Groaning loudly at the intrusion, I rolled over and smacked my hand around until I made contact with Mickey, hitting his bare chest.

"Whah?" Mickey grumbled, his face scrunching up. I nestled my cheek against his warm skin, curling even more into him as his arm instinctively tightened around my back.

"Mr. Lafitte, you have a morning workout in half an hour. Derek will be by to pick you up in about twenty minutes--"

"Fuck." I felt Mickey shift underneath me, and I groaned, pouting even though I knew he wasn't looking at me. I could hear Melissa's scoff as she turned around and left, her heels clacking on the hardwood floors until she was gone.

"Nooo don't leave," I whined playfully, squeezing my arms around him when Mickey tried to get up. When I finally pried my eyes open, Mickey was staring down at me with a tenderness in his gray-blue eyes that made me swallow.

"I have to," he whispered softly, and I pushed my bottom lip out in a pout again.

"Aw, don't do that. You're gonna get me kicked off the Lakers."

I laughed, and released him as he sat up slowly and stretched his arms above his head. I lay on my side admiring his muscles as they bunched and flexed, his golden tan skin glowing in the early morning rays. I noticed the healing red marks on his shoulders and back hadn't completely faded yet, and I smiled triumphantly with a sort of primal-like pride in my work.

"If you keep looking at me like that, you're going to be even more sore than you are right now," Mickey warned in a low voice, and the promise in his words did nothing to dampen my desire. What did rid my mind of any more sexy thoughts, however, was the shooting pain up my lower body when I slid my legs over the bed and tried to stand up.

"Benny! Are you okay?" Mickey rushed over to help me up as my legs gave out and I crumped to the ground like a wet noodle.

"Damn you and your five hour stamina," I grumbled as Mickey helped me back onto the bed, and he chuckled. We hadn't gone to bed until almost three in the morning, and given that Melissa had just woken us up at eight, I was still pretty grumpy from lack of proper rest.

"You know you love it."

              By the time we arrived downstairs, Mickey was almost ten minutes late and I'd had to be carried down the stairs wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Mickey loved it when I wore his clothes, as almost all men did, and I was never one to complain. His clothes were comfy as shit.

"Hey lovebirds," Shane greeted us as we walked into the kitchen and Mickey set me down on one of the kitchen stools. My body protested the hard wooden surface, but there was nothing I could do about it as I watched Mickey grab his Gatorade bottle from the fridge and take two bites of an egg sandwich that Ella handed to him.

"Thanks, Ella, but I've gotta run."

He stepped back to me, leaning in close to speak only to me. Mickey was dressed in black basketball shorts and a tight black sleeveless shirt that made me want to drool and demand that he wear it everyday. His arms were practically bulging out of the shirt, every line of his chest clearly visible and outlined by the fabric.

"I'll be back around 10:45. When's your first class?"

"11:00, but I can drive myself--"

Mickey snorted. "I doubt it."

I almost gasped in outrage, before I felt Mickey's fingers poking at my inner thighs underneath the loose fabric of his blue striped boxers. I let out a soft moan, unintentionally, and watched a smirk of satisfaction spread across Mickey's face. I knew he would never actually physically hurt me, but boy did he love to see me crippled after a night of sex.