Crazy for the Alpha (Sequel to Tutoring the Alpha)

Chapter Thirteen: Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me

             I finished my classes at two in the afternoon on Friday, and then realized I had the entire stretch of weekend ahead of me with no Mickey and nothing to do to occupy my time. I had some work to do, but that would take me all of three hours, and then what? As I drove home, blasting "Thnks fr th Mmrs" by Fall Out Boy, I strained to think of chores I needed to do. I had some laundry that needed washing, and some extra research for a case I was on in the clinic. I could go grocery shopping, and maybe buy ingredients to bake brownies or pumpkin bread. I loved to bake, which was a little known secret about me, but I never really had the time or resources to do so. God, my life is so pathetic. I didn't even have any friends to call up and make plans with. Maybe Jenna?

            Resolved to find Jenna and ask her if she had plans for this weekend, I dumped my backpack in the TV room upstairs and then changed into some shorts before heading back down to find Jenna. The younger of the women and men in the pack were outside, hanging out in the pool, as it was an unusually hot afternoon in Los Angeles. I could hear rap music blasting dimly from the basement, which meant that a good portion of the male wolves were down there working out, and everyone else must have still been at work or school. I texted Jenna asking if she was home, and then I was at a loss for what I should do next. Go outside and swim for a bit? No, I was least of all friends with the likes of Rachel, Lilah, Ella, Joey, and Ashton. They were the young, attractive members of the pack, closest to my age, but wild and very exclusive. I thought about tracking down Monica, but that just seemed depressing, so I scratched that idea.

Finally, my eyes pooling with tears as I realized just how pathetic and lonely I was, I headed back upstairs. Anger and self-hatred and humiliation burned through me, and I practically ran up the last set of stairs, throwing myself into bed and locking the door behind me as the tears really started to come. I turned off all the lights and lay under the covers for about an hour, crying until I had no more tears left to cry, and then I just lay there, confused and sad and hating myself just a bit.

          When I was sick of just lying around, I turned on an old Supernatural episode that I'd seen a million times and took out my diary. I was in the midst of writing a very passionate entry when my phone began to ring with the signature ringtone I'd assigned to Mickey.

"Hey," I answered a little morosely, trying to fake enthusiasm for Mickey's sake. Luckily, it seemed to work, and I quickly realized what kind of mood he was in.

"Hey, baby. I was just thinking about you."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"The guys tried to drag me to this strip club--"

"Excuse me?!"

"But I left right away. It's actually really depressing to be there when you have someone you'd much rather be with."

My heart thumped extra hard at that, and I almost teared up again.

"I wish I was there."

"Man, I wish you were too. And for more reasons than just because I love you."

I thought I caught the deepening of Mickey's voice at that last part, and my nerves started to hum to life.

"What other reasons?"

"Well, you know, it's been a while."

"Since...?" Now I was just openly messing with him. I knew exactly what he was referring to; it had been over a week since we'd last had sex, and now that he'd mentioned it my pussy was tingling painfully. Heat blossomed in my cheeks, and he hadn't even said anything dirty yet.

"Since we've been...intimate." His voice was definitely lower now, almost raspy, and it turned me on to no end. I wriggled, trying to squeeze my thighs together as my pussy throbbed and I blushed even harder.