The Alpha's Rogue

Chapter Fourteen

Amelia's POV

"Well helloooooooooo." I say, swinging open the door to Mr. Alpha's office, my body swinging along with the door.

Michael and Branson are hovered over the large desk together as they both seem to be looking at the same documents, until I had come in which is when Michael covered the documents with some different ones. "Amelia, we're a little busy right now. I'll see you later at dinner." He says sternly with his Alpha tone.

Too bad buddy, that doesn't work on me. I toss my head back and throw my hands in the air. "Well sorry, for interrupting your jerk off session." I slur slightly, but I feel like I nailed it to the point no one noticed.

Michael's lilac eyes watch me very closely for a long minute before they darken slightly. "Are you drunk?" He leans back in his big tall chair and folds his bulging arms across his chest.

"Pft." I wave a hand at him. "Can't a girl just come see her mate, just to kiss his silly little face?"

A loud growl comes from Michael's chest. "My face is neither silly nor little." He speaks through gritted teeth at me.

"Is Marcy drunk too, you were with here weren't you?" Branson speaks up for the first time since I've come into the room. 

I shake my head vigorously. "I know not what you talk of. Marcy is sitting in her room like a good girl waiting for her sexy mate." It's like for the first time every I'm actually appreciating how attractive this young man actually was, not as fineee as my Michael but still pretty decent.

Another loud growl comes from Michael, this time he stands up and slams his fists into the large wooden desk. "Go take care of your own mate Branson." He says harshly while his eyes are souly fixed on me.

Branson ducks past me and out the door quickly, worry is plastered on his face along with annoyance.

"Stop being such and Alpha douche." I roll my eyes at Michael. "Goddess, you're so irritating!"

Michael scoffs, but sounds somewhat amused. "I'm the irritating one?" He straights up as he walks around his desk and slowly over towards me. "Was it the fact I was busy working on pack business, or that fact that I wasn't drinking with you and your new found buddy?"

"I'm not drunk!" I say stubbornly. "I just wanted to come here and kiss your smugness away, is that so horrible of me?" I take a small step towards him but end up stumbling slightly.

He raises an eyebrow at me, his hands go to my hips for stabilization. "You wanted to get rid of my smugness by kissing it away? Because that's a regular thought you have while you're  sober?"

I give a small nod which turns to me shaking my head and soon I'm just a bobble head with no words. I place one of my hands on his chest, feeling his very very well sculpted muscles under his shirt, while my other hand raises to cup his rouged face. I have to stand on my tip toes to get my lips to reach his, and when they do I feel the sparks going off making me want to kiss him all the more. I smile against his lips. "You're my first kiss." I confess to him.

Michael pulls away from me, the only contact he has with me now is his hands firmly on my hips to keep me up right. "How drunk are you right now, little wolf?" His eyes are mixed with amusement and concern.

"How drunk are you?" I counter.

One of his hands leaves my hip to brush some hair from my face before holding the back of my neck. "Amelia, please tell me how much you've had to drink." His voice was firm and yet soft.

I hold up my thumb and index finger in front of my eyes as I make them show a small amount no bigger than my eye. "Tiny amount, barely any. Pft."

"Don't lie to me, I hate it when you lie to me Amelia." He pauses and drops his forehead to rest against mine. "You're drunk and I want to take care of you, I just need to know what level of caregiving I'm in store for today."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Aye! Such the drama queen, it was barely many muchness. Just like half."

"A glass?"

"A bottle, but it's fineeee. I can barely feels it." I place my lips on his for a second before pulling away and smiling. "It's my first drinkies."

A small growl escapes his lips as he hold me against him. "Drinking is bad Amelia, you're doing things you wouldn't normally because of it."

I shake my head at him. "Just because I never do this doesn't mean I don't want to." I slur out, tapping my index finger against his chest. "Ohhh, do you think you could make me some of those might excellent French toast you made for me the other day?"

"Coming right up." He chuckles as he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carries me down stairs. As we enter the kitchen I hear him growling a command to everyone to get out now, before he places me down in the booth. "I'll be right back with some food for you, little wolf. How about you tell me a story while I cook?"

I tap my chin with my index finger, leaning my head back against the back of the seat. "One time, many moons ago. I came to a small human village. It was my first time being around humans, and I remember them giving me weird looks because I was small and alone. It was in this town that I met a very lovely elderly couple who didn't pay much attention to me but I paid attention to them. They'd been together for so long, and yet they were so cute and so very much as in love as when they had met. I heard them recounting old stories from when they were our age, stories of how they'd met and he'd convinced her to fall in love with him. I knew that day, that was what I wanted. Someone I could still be so in love with even after eighty years. Humans can be so smart, they do what makes them happy, even if it doesn't seem logical to them at the time."

"Is that how you feel about me?" Michael asks from where he stood at the stove. "Do you feel happy with me?" I could hear the hope in his voice.

I smile as I think of all the good things Michael has done for me since drugging and kidnapping me. "Well besides how we met, and a few choice acts since, you've been really sweet. And for the most part you do make me happy. When you're not being a complete Alpha jackass that is." I say, earning a small playful growl.