Lycan Alpha Claim 3 by Tamara Rose Blodgett, Marata Eros Read Free Book Online

compare later.
    Right now, it's all about the work.
    “Hi, Bryce.”
    He mumbles a reply as I hand him the first merciless task. The huge rubber band fits around the pole in the center of the room. Mirrors line the wall and toss back our struggles.
    And our triumphs.
    I watch as he half-heartedly goes through the motions of his straight leg kicks. When he reaches twenty I scoop my hand down and latch onto his hamstring and he groans at my touch. “Bend your knee a little,” he does while giving me a look that could kill. I stare neutrally back until his gaze drops and he finally digs in.
    An hour later, shaking and sweating, Bryce's huge and muscled body lumbers outside my door. He pauses as he opens it, looking at me with pissed off brown eyes.
    “I hate you, Miss Mitchell,” he says and means it.
    I smile back. I totally get it. Bryce needs to hate me to get better. It beats hating himself. I nod. “I know.”
    He walks out, and I run my finger down the patient appointments for the day. Kiki makes her loud entrance, and my lips twist. She balances chai tea in both hands, staggering in too-tall heels that sink into the nearly bald carpet.
    “Gawd!” she huffs as she winds her way through the ellipticals, weight machines, and treadmills. She leans against the walking bars that run like railroad tracks for those with dual injuries. Like both legs not working.
    I swallow and force my smile back in place.
    “Take your tea, you ungrateful bitch,” she squeals, handing me my tea.
    I blow on it. A touch of honey and ginger rise through the vapor, and I grin over the rim of the cup as I sip through the little slot.
    “So?” I ask in a purr.
    Kiki is pure drama. It's only Monday, so we have the entire week to build up to a crescendo. Mondays are usually sedate, so I brace myself. I have thirty minutes until my next client arrives to be tortured into wellness. Kiki smirks, sets down her tea, and moves to the pole. I give a furtive glance around the gym, hoping no one comes in.
    “Got a…” She wraps around the pole and slides down it seductively, letting her butt cheeks split as she wiggles and bounces at the bottom. She springs up, the front of her hoohah a hairsbreadth from the cool metal. “Ginormous tip this weekend from a richie!”
    She thrusts forward, wrapping one slender leg around the pole, and I groan. She does a little mock-hump against it and grins at me.
    Kiki is so inappropriate I could die. But she's my drug and I'm hers. We fit together because we're so different. She's an exotic dancer who's also a senior at Northwestern State.
    She makes great money, and she also does serious gym time, packing in an hour six days a week. It's important to not look too striated, Kiki claims. No “guy-look.” Just tits, ass, and curves with definition. I designed the workout for her because I’m intimately familiar with the human body. I didn't set out to be, but life had other plans.
    The sins of the past become the direction of our future.
    Kiki pouts, leaves the pole, and saunters toward me. “You're no fun.”
    I roll my eyes. “Okay... I know I've got to ask the burning question or we'll get nowhere.”
    She perks up. “You got it, sister.”
    “Who was it?”
    Kiki always takes stock of clients. Men think they know so much, but women could rule the world if we came together. I sigh. Kiki notices regulars, high tippers, newcomers and flags the creeps. She's scary uncanny. I came to watch a set at the prestigious strip club, Black Rose, and went away shocked.
    Shocked by the clientele, shocked that Kiki could dance that well for such a short time, and shocked by the moolah.
    “The owner,” Kiki whispers as if we have a secret.
    I shrug. “So?”
    “It's Jared-effing-McKenna, baby!” Kiki is offended by my deliberate ignorance. Her brows rise to her hairline, and her dark eyes are wide with clear disdain.
    Mine are steady with indifference.
    The wheels of my memory spin. Oh yes. Jared McKenna. The Jared