Happily Ever Alpha: Until Midnight Read online

  Until Midnight

  (A Drive Me Wild and Until series crossover novella)

  A Happily Ever Alpha Story

  By Gwendolyn Grace

  UNTIL MIDNIGHT

  Copyright © 2019 by Gwendolyn Grace

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Published by Boom Factory Publishing, LLC.

  Gwendolyn Grace, CONTRIBUTOR to the Original Works was granted permission by Aurora Rose Reynolds, ORIGINAL AUTHOR, to use the copyrighted characters and/ or worlds created by Aurora Rose Reynolds in the Original Work; all copyright protection to the characters and/ or worlds of Aurora Rose Reynolds in the Original Works are and shall continue to be retained by Aurora Rose Reynolds. You can find all of Aurora Rose Reynolds Original Works on most major retailers. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Grace Street Designs

  Editor: Lawrence Editing

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Free book offer

  More books by Gwendolyn Grace

  Happily Ever Alpha World

  Playlist

  Author’s Note

  Can you solve the mystery?

  “Love in its essence is a spiritual fire.” – Seneca

  CHAPTER ONE

  Carina

  Wow.

  I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling, breathing heavy and covered in sweat. The bed shifted, and I bounced along with the movement of the mattress. My body tingled, and my legs felt like jelly as heavy footfalls disappeared into the other room. Then reality set in.

  Stupid. Stupid girl.

  I shut my eyes, wishing I could transport myself someplace else. There were a million other things I should have been doing, and yet there I was drifting through post-coital bliss. I knew exactly how I had ended up that way. Cosmos.

  Oh, he's hot. The little red devil on my shoulder whispered as I gulped down the last of my drink, making a face as I swallowed. I didn't even like cosmos. I just thought I would look sexier drinking them. It fit the look. Tiny little skirt, a low-cut top to show off my best two assets, and heels so high I could barely straighten my legs as I walked. I wanted to know what it felt like to be normal...and free. To steal a little fun for me and think about tomorrow later. Well, tomorrow had come, and I was scrambling to find a new game plan.

  The toilet flushed, reminding me that a man I barely knew was in my bathroom. I remember sipping my Cosmo and having what I thought was a smart conversation with him. I'd say something I thought was witty, and he would laugh, though it was more of a huff rather than a roar of laughter. He wasn't exactly rolling off his barstool, but I had his attention. I couldn't tell which he found more amusing, me or my corny banter. We sat close, but not touching, the way two people who were interested in each other would. I scrolled through the playlist on the jukebox as he stood behind me, his fingertips grazing the exposed skin just below the hem of my shirt. Though the song I'd chosen wasn't a sexy one, I swayed my hips anyway as he placed a kiss on the back of my neck. The next thing I knew I was leading him up the stairs to my apartment, he was lifting my skirt, and I was unzipping his jeans. He called me baby as he wrapped my legs around his waist and fucked me against the wall. He was a phenomenal lover and knew exactly what to do to drive me wild.

  My body needed that.

  I'd had an itch, and he'd scratched it...three times.

  I just didn't know how things were done afterward. Was I supposed to thank the guy for rocking my world and walk him to the door?

  What was his name again? Brady? Bronson?

  The bathroom door opened, and he walked to the bed in all his naked splendor. A beautiful sight in the glow of my bedside lamp. An athletic build with broad shoulders, defined biceps, and muscular legs. That kind of perfection wasn't by accident. Sure, he might have been blessed with good genes, but a physique like his had been done on purpose. Tattoos covered every inch of his chest and both arms, all the way from collar to wrist.

  I sat up and gathered the covers over my bare breasts, suddenly aware of my less than perfect body. My clothes had been discarded somewhere in the apartment, and I wondered how crazy I would look pulling the entire comforter off the bed and wrapping it around myself.

  "Hey." He grinned, his unruly jet-black hair sticking up on one side. It was adorable and only added to his sexiness.

  "Hi." I returned his smile, still clutching the blanket to my chest.

  "Are you okay?" He ran a finger down my cheek, and my eyes briefly fluttered closed. How was it possible that a single touch of his finger could put me in a trance? When I opened my eyes again, he was reaching for his pants.

  The moment couldn't have been more awkward. The movies had always made it look easy. The woman would lounge against the pillows like a sex kitten and purr something irresistible to her lover, maybe smoke a cigarette or something. In real life, I didn't smoke, and I felt about as sexy as a knitted doily. I'd been so trapped in my head that I didn't notice he'd gotten fully dressed and was handing me my silk bathrobe.

  "Thanks," I said, shrugging it on as I scrambled to my feet. "Can I get you, erm...anything? A drink?"

  "I..." He hesitated, his dark brown eyes studying me for a moment. "Thanks, but no. I should probably go."

  "Oh. All right," I replied, a little surprised by the disappointment I felt over him leaving.

  I followed him, fumbling with the belt on my robe. Once we'd reached the door, his gaze traveled down my body and lingered on my exposed thighs.

  "Damn," he whispered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and placing a hand on either side of my hips. "I want to thank you."

  "For what?"

  "For rocking my world."

  I bit back a smile as heat rushed to my cheeks. I'd just had the exact same thought.

  "I'm pretty sure it was the other way around."

  "So, how do we do this?" He drew me close, pressing my front to his. My nipples grew hard against his body, the thin robe providing almost no barrier.

  "Do what?" I'd asked without thinking, my state of arousal leaving me empty-headed.

  "How do I see you again?"

  "Again?" I blinked several times. Again wasn't something I'd even considered. Wait, I really could do that with him again? And again? My body begged for a repeat, but my stupid brain was fucking it up for everyone. My life was in shambles. The last thing I needed was—

  "Hey, it's okay." He backed away, my nipples aching over the loss of contact. "Forget I asked.
" He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, his eyes going back to my bare thighs.

  "I..." I looked away, trying to find words that didn't make my life sound like the shit show it really was. "I think you are...I mean, this whole night was...wow. I just can't right now. I'm sorry, Br—um..." I was drawing a total blank. I'd just had the hottest night of my life with the sexiest man I'd ever met. I knew he had a tiny birthmark on his left hip. That he liked when I bit down on his neck with just the right amount of pressure. I could even remember how the hard muscles in his back flexed and released under my fingers with each thrust. The one, and probably the most significant, detail I should have been able to recall was his name.

  "Brandon," he said, thankfully putting me out of my misery. "But everyone calls me Brando."

  "I'm probably coming off as a shitty person right now. Things are"—I paused, crossing my arms over my chest—"messy for me right now. I was having a bad night and really needed a... friend." I lifted my gaze. "Thank you for that."

  "A friend, huh?" Brando snorted, then pulled the door open. He gently reached up and ran a finger down my cheek. "Good night, Carina."

  My eyelids fluttered closed just as they did before, savoring the feel of his skin on mine one last time. When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.

  ****

  Brando

  I couldn't sleep. No matter how much I tried to relax, my brain wouldn't shut off. After a performance like that, I should have been exhausted. So satisfyingly spent that I could sleep until the afternoon. Instead, I replayed it all in my head. Every eye roll, every laugh, the sexy sway of her hips as she danced, and her soft moans each time I made her come.

  Friend? She actually called me her fuckin' friend.

  My thoughts traveled back to B.C....before Carina.

  I'd been nursing a beer for twenty minutes and watching the game. My roommate had a house full of people, which meant home was the last place I wanted to be. I came up to Catch because I knew the owner, Hal, would have the playoffs on the big screen.

  The door swung open, and a stunning redhead walked inside. I knew right away it was the new girl, Carina. She looked a lot different out of uniform. The Annette's Catch standard issue T-shirt and shorts had been replaced with a little black skirt and low-cut top that displayed perfectly plump breasts. A total knockout with legs for days. She took a seat at the end of the bar, made small talk with Hal, then ordered a drink. Her long hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and down her back. The bright lights above cascaded over her, creating a soft glow.

  Carina was by far the most exciting person in the room, and I wasn't the only one to notice. Before she even had time to take the first sip of her drink, the barstool beside her was suddenly occupied by the same idiot who had been trying for the last hour to get someone, anyone, from the drunken "girls' trip" table to leave with him. The minute that guy started talking, I wanted nothing more than to grab him by his goatee and toss his ass outside, but then I would have been locked up during the playoffs...again.

  I raised my arms into a long, exaggerated stretch. Carina's eyes kept flickering my way, and I knew I was on her radar. Hal came over to discuss the game, and I went through the appropriate motions, nodding my head and commenting when necessary. The truth was, my thoughts were on Carina. Dude kept running his mouth while she sipped something reddish from a martini glass. She pulled a face every time she swallowed, clearly not enjoying the fancy drink. She downed the last of that glass then ordered another, all the while looking unimpressed with her company. Sir Talks-A-Lot eventually realized he wasn't going to close the deal and went back to the "girls' trip" table. Before someone else could beat me to her, I was on my feet and moving.

  "What are you drinking?" I asked, sliding onto the stool beside her. She turned her head with the tiny straw still in her mouth and rolled her eyes.

  "I can buy my own drinks. Thank you very much." She took a series of small sips, shivering slightly with every swallow.

  "Actually, I was going to suggest you try something else. It doesn't look like you're a fan of whatever is in that glass."

  "This is a cossammapolatan." She butchered the word, then tried again. "A casama...erm, I just call it a Cosmo for short. It's what all trendy women in the big cities are drinking."

  "Really?" I grinned. "Which big cities?"

  "You know, all the cities." Carina sipped again but did a better job of controlling her facial expressions. "New York City, L.A... uh, city, or..." She looked up as she tried to think of more names.

  "Uh, technically it's just L.A. or Los Angeles." I chuckled when she looked at me like I was the one being ridiculous. "They don't say city. It isn't part of..." My words trailed off as several locks of red curls fell over one eye and she shook her head, forcing her hair away from her face. The sweet smell of strawberries filled my nose, and I couldn't help thinking it was the perfect scent for her. "Never mind. I'm Brando, by the way." I held out my hand. Seconds ticked by with her staring at me as if considering whether to shake or not. "Come on, don't leave me hanging." I cocked my head to the side. Just when I thought she might do just that, she lifted her arm.

  "Carina," she replied, with a quick shake. Her soft hand looked so small in mine. Though I'd already known her name, I still played along.

  The conversation was easy after that. We didn't discuss anything personal or of importance. I let Carina do most of the talking as I studied her face. The tiny mole that rested high on one cheek, the way her nose moved when her mouth formed certain words and how her high heel shoe dangled off the tip of her toe as she flexed and pointed her foot.

  Stolen glances turned into soft touches, and eventually long kisses. When it was closing time, we made our way outside.

  "Are you leaving?" Carina asked, looking almost bashful. Slowly she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and it took everything in me not to wrap her in my arms and kiss her senseless.

  "Do you want me to?" I controlled my hands by putting them in my pockets. Her response didn't come in words. She was the one who reached for me and pulled me up the stairs to her place.

  Carina had been everything I knew she would be. Shy, but not afraid to claim her own pleasure. She gifted me full control of her body. Every inch of her was mine. When the night was over, she had owned me.

  It was like taking that first sip of top-notch whiskey and letting it roll around on your tongue. Knowing such perfection existed you could never go back to the cheap stuff. Carina was from the finest stock I'd ever had the privilege of tasting...and she called me her friend.

  Fuck that.

  She was going to be all mine.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Carina

  "Well, you look like shit, kid." Jamie's declaration hurt. I shot a look at my brother. Though he was two years older, we could almost pass for twins. Matching red hair, cornflower blue eyes and the same loner state of mind.

  "Thanks." I grabbed a fry from my plate and tossed it at him. He managed to dodge it then throw one from his own at me.

  "Jamie!" I gasped when the fry hit me on my cheek then bounced away. He threw his head back and laughed. "Jerk," I mumbled, reaching for more ammo, then deciding I didn't want to part with any more of my fries.

  "Carina, you seem a little off. What's going on?"

  "What do you mean?" I asked while swirling the straw around in my milkshake.

  "First, you allowed that fry to make contact with your face. It's a rookie mistake, and you know better." He chuckled.

  Jamie and I had perfected the art of food fighting. We'd been raised in a life of overindulgence. Born and raised on Sea Whisper Island. Silverwood Manor had been our home. The luxurious life of a Risto included private tutors, live-in nannies, and summers on a yacht in Mexico. Our parents had wanted us to have the best but what they couldn't buy us—real friends. A healthy social life. They could always find us play dates and birthday party attendees, but real honest to God friendships were hard to come by. We'd been sheltered and isol
ated from the rest of the people in town. To some, we were the mysterious Ristos. To most, we were fancy, highfalutin freaks. We were our only friends. All Jamie and I had was each other, especially after the divorce.

  "It was a lucky shot." I used the back of my hand to wipe away the salt and grease. The truth was I'd been exhausted, and it had nothing to do with a lack of sleep. After spending so much time away, the island felt different. I was different. Both mentally drained and out of my element. Jamie stared at me for a few seconds.

  "Listen, I know things are...tough right now, but I promise we're going to figure it out." He squeezed my hand then added quietly, "I miss him, too." That familiar ache ripped through my chest, rendering me speechless. I nodded, wishing he hadn't said that but knowing he meant well. "Oh, that reminds me. My guy was able to come through with the stuff." He looked over both shoulders then discreetly slid an envelope to me under the table.

  "Good. You got it." Relief washed over me. I knew he'd been having a difficult time with his contact, but if anyone could get it done it was my brother. "Thank you. You're amazing."

  Jamie shrugged off my appreciation as if it were no big deal, but it was. He'd been risking a lot.

  "Seriously. It means the world to me."

  He lifted his gaze to mine, then quickly lowered his eyes. Jamie had always been uncomfortable taking compliments.

  "That's why I do it." He winked, then tossed another fry at me. That time I deflected, using the palm of my hand as a shield, hitting the fry back at him.

  "There she is." Jamie grinned. We both grew silent, and my thoughts wandered to the night before.

  "So, do you know a guy named Brando?" I tried to sound casual.

  "King's brother? Yeah, I know him. Why?"

  "No reason." I shrugged, swirling the straw around in my shake. "Just curious if you knew him."

  "Did he ask you out or something?"

  "No," I replied immediately. It was the truth. Brando hadn't asked me for a thing. Not even my phone number. Granted, before he had a chance to ask, I told him I wasn't interested in more. A complete and total lie. It just seemed like the smartest thing to do at the time. After a little probing, Jamie reluctantly filled me in on what he knew about Brando. He was the younger brother of the local street racing legend, Mack King. Unlike his brother, Brando wasn't a racer. He was a tattoo artist, so it made sense that his arms and torso were covered in ink. He'd recently opened a tattoo shop on East Street. A sketchy area of town from what I could remember.