Gillian

It took every ounce of self-control she had to hold it together. After delivering two salads to another table, she turned and—

Pulled up short, now standing eyes-to-pecs with a delicious smelling hunk of—

Oh, thank you Goddess, he's a wolf!

Her gaze slowly traveled up his—YUM—broad chest, to his strong chin, his intense lips, his brown and slightly familiar gaze, which narrowed in a knowing, sexy, panty-flooding kind of way.

Sploosh, indeed.

When his right brow slightly arched, she knew.

She knew that he knew, too.

He felt it, he was available—and she was about to be fucked in the best way possible.

Hopefully.

She turned just to spot waiting lines outside both restrooms.

Dammit!

Not thinking—and not wanting to get arrested on an indecency charge for screwing in the middle of a busy restaurant full of clueless humans—she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him behind the counter, yelling, "Corner!" as she hustled through the swing doors behind another server, darted around them, bolted straight through the kitchen, calling out, "Behind!" and now moving nearly at a full run along the full-length of the line table. She stiff-armed the back door open, belatedly praying no one was sitting on the stoop on a smoke break or they'd likely get launched across the alley.

Desperate, she scanned the alley, and—

Well, any dumpster in a dire desire distress!

She dragged him behind it, spinning around, his lips crashing over hers as she heard fabric ripping—whoops—as she tried to get his khakis open and down.

He kissed like a dream and she hoped he could use his dick even half as well as he was using his tongue on her.

If so, she'd be a very happy mate indeed.

He tried to say something. "Listen, I—"

"Shut up and fuck me, mate," she growled.

Something deep and dark and dangerous lit his gaze and it made her even wetter, if that was possible. While he worked on his belt and slacks she shoved down her shorts and panties and yanked on her apron to spin it out of the way and give him access. Draping her arms around his neck, she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and guiding his mouth to the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

They both groaned as he notched his cock and slid home, hot, hardened steel easily impaling her, deeply—oh, thank you, Goddess!—and he nuzzled the collar of her T-shirt aside to give him room to bite down—

She pressed her mouth to his other shoulder to muffle her scream of pain and ecstasy and sensations she never dreamed possible as his teeth sank into her flesh and his cock sank into her flesh and her brain sank into some fantasy place she never wanted to emerge from.

He turned them, his hands grabbing her ass and holding her, her back pressed against the warm brick wall as he fucked her, pistoning his hips and damned near driving the breath out of her with every stroke.

This wasn't just the mother of all orgasms—this was the ancient source of unquantifiable pleasure, of the nerve center of the universe, where every previous orgasm she'd experienced in her life by her own hand or others withered and paled in stark contrast to the power surge lighting up every nerve in her body.

What she wanted to do was throw her head back and howl in thanks and lust and unbridled passion.

What she did—some small part of her brain still aware they were fucking in an alley behind a building in downtown Spokane—was clamp her teeth onto his shoulder and let out a low, pleased growl.

"Don't stop," she thought to him.

"Oh, don't worry, mate. I'm not about to stop."

God, she hoped he wasn't a douchebag. Maybe it would've been better to ascertain that before letting him give her the best dicking of her life.

In an alley.

Behind a dumpster.

Those thoughts vanished as another wave of pleasure rolled through her, short-circuiting her brain.

Too late now.

She didn't even care that they were both sweaty and the dumpster wasn't exactly the most romantic of meet-fucks in the history of romance. All she cared about was the way he growled, deeply and possessively, when he finally released his bite and recaptured her lips, slanting his mouth over hers and driving his tongue deep inside of her as he fucked her.

Dumpsters are highly underrated as romantic spots.

That was the last cogent thought she had for…a while. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, him fucking her—and could she add how sexy it was he could pick her up and hold her and use her like that—and her coming all over his cock until he finally let loose and filled her with a groan that sent one last delicious shudder through her.

They stood there panting, nuzzling each other, nothing existing in this moment but them.

He stroked her chin, a playful smirk quirking those delicious lips of his, lips she hoped to feel between her thighs in short order.

", right?" he asked.

She barked a laugh. "What? Oh, yeah, my nameta…" Her eyes widened, a strangled meep escaping her as she realized why he looked familiar.

Because he was familiar.

"Peyton Bleacke!"

"So you have heard of me." But his rakish smile made her laugh again.

"Oh, fuck, Mom's gonna orgasm when she hears this."

"Yeeeaaah, sorry, I'm safewording on mom-daughter sex." But the delightful twinkle in his eyes, the snark—

Holy hell, she might just come again from that.

He finally broke the silence. "So, listen. Can we go to your place now and—"

"Oh, my gosh. Sorry!" He let her down—she wasn't sure at first her legs would support her, but fortunately they did—and she started finding her clothes.

"Yikes," he muttered.

She looked over at his tone and realized she'd sort of shredded the front of his slacks when she'd tried to help him out of them.

"Wait. Here, use this." She pulled her apron off and wrapped it around his front. "There, that'll get us out the door."

"Thanks." He pulled out his wallet and handed her a credit card. "Use this for my bill."

"Okay." She took the credit card, her ticket pad, a pen, and her money, and rushed inside to find Phil.

"I'm so sorry, but I have to bail on you tonight. I've got a-a…family emergency." She hurried past him to the POS station to tab Peyton out and hand off her open checks and tables to other servers.

"What happened?" Phil asked. "What's wrong?"

She started to make up something, realized she was about to maniacally laugh, and then met Peyton's gaze across Phil's shoulder from where he'd followed her inside.

Peyton gently rested a hand on Phil's shoulder and shivered as she felt the strength of his Prime powers wash through her boss.

"I apologize for intruding on her shift like this, but you know how parents can be. I was ordered to bring her for a cake tasting for our wedding, but I screwed up telling her the date. You are going to let us pay you for the wedding rehearsal dinner, right? I know you tried to say it was on the house but I insist on paying you full price as well as paying all your servers and staff a complete full-night's pay."

But Peyton's gaze burned into hers.

Phil smiled. "Of course, eh—"

"Peyton," she whispered, barely able to talk. That was partially due to the shock now hitting her that she was the freaking Pack Alpha's mate, and partially due to the fact that her mate was so damned sexy she was about to cream herself.

"Yes, Peyton. Sorry son. And of course!" Phil shook with him. "Let me know as soon as you confirm the date and what you want served."

"Absolutely. Looking forward to it, and we appreciate your patience with this unintended schedule snafu." Peyton's gaze never left hers.

"No worries, son."

She barely managed to handle everything before hurrying out the door with Peyton.

He grabbed her hand. "Where's your car?"

"There," she pointed, then dipped her hand into the apron for her keys and phone, brushing against his considerable erection in the process and forcing herself not to jump him again.

He deftly plucked her keys from her hand and when they reached her car he led her around to the passenger side, opening the door for her and slanting another kiss over her lips before releasing her so she could slide in.

When he opened the driver's side door he had to fumble for the seat latch to slide it all the way back before he climbed in. Then he started it and sat there for a moment, staring at her. "I know we have a lot to talk about," he said, "but all I want to do is go back to your place, right now, and get naked so I can do you justice."

"I'm cool with that plan, but can we take a shower first?" She grimaced. "I really want to wash the smell of fries and alley sex off us before rounds two through infinity happen."

He laughed. "Absolutely. Now, where are we going?"

"Oh. Oh!" She gave him directions and less than ten minutes later they were climbing the stairs to her apartment.

"I'm sorry it's not fancy," she said.

He gently squeezed her hand again. "Doesn't matter. Besides, you won't be living here."

"Whoa." She stopped right there on the stairs, not releasing his hand so he had to turn and face her. "I still have two semesters left of law school. I'm not quitting."

"Who said anything about you quitting law school?"

"But you said…" She stared at him, his lips quirking in another smile that sent yet another sploosh wave to her already drenched panties. "You're going to make me move to the pack compound, aren't you?"

"No, I said you won't be living here," he clarified. "I'll buy or rent you a house. It'll be a drive for me going back and forth, and as much as I'll hate it there will be nights I need to stay at the pack compound because of my sister, but I want you to finish law school. I mean, you do want to finish law school, right? Because it sounded like you do."

She blinked, trying to process his words. "O-oh. Yeah. Okay, then. Glad we understand each other."

He stepped forward, pressing her against the stairwell wall, and stared down into her eyes. "Dad…" He looked like he choked up and needed a moment. "Dad told me to never force my mate to do what I want her to," he said. "Because I'm a Prime. Because there are assholes who do that shit, even clueless humans in their own way, and no matter who's doing it, it's wrong. I want you to be happy. I want you to do what you want to do. But I have to take care of my little sister, too. And the pack."

"Dewi," she whispered.

"Yeah. She's only two." Now his eyes did brighten, limned with tears much the way Badger's had the other night. "Trent and I are all she's got left. But—and I need you to keep this quiet because not many people know this—she's turned out to be a Prime Alpha. Meaning me and Badger have to be around a lot for her."

"I get it. Can she live with us?"

"I want her to have stability. Once you're through school, I'm guessing you're who Dad used to mention about hiring on as a new attorney for the pack?"

Heat filled her cheeks. "I hope so," she said. "I'd talked to him about it a while back."

He smiled. "Okay, then. We can make you living in Spokane work for two semesters. Weekends, you can come back to the compound. But," he added, "you will learn how to shoot if you don't already know how, you will get a concealed carry permit, I will buy you a gun, and I will have an armed Enforcer at the house with you at all times. I can't risk…"

He swallowed hard. "We have a lot to talk about," he quietly said. "But every problem has a mutually satisfactory solution, I promise. Can we go take that shower now?"

She nodded. "Yeah." Turning and not releasing his hand, she resumed the trek up to her apartment with him by her side.