Rooming With the Grumpy Biker Alpha

Chapter 011

LAYLA’S POV

The best thing about being good at what you do is that you’re hard to replace. That’s why Mrs. Jones didn’t hire anyone at the print shop, even with all the applications that came in over the break.

I’ve been working here since freshman year, mostly to support myself alongside the allowance my father used to give me. This semester? It’s everything. Every cent matters, and I have to stretch what I earn because I don’t want to rely on Edward more than I already have.

I’m still printing the tutoring schedule I made for him when the door opens.

An unwelcome scent hits my nose and I stiffen, lifting my gaze instantly.

Colt is here and he’s inside with me. Right now.

He shuts the door behind him and steps closer, his head tilting, and something dark settling in his eyes, something that tells me he didn’t come to talk. Goosebumps race down my skin, every hair standing on end because I’ve seen what he does to his guards when he’s upset.

“What do you want?” I demand. “The print shop is closed after 3 p.m.”

He huffs, still advancing. “That means no interruptions.”

A chill slips down my spine.

“I’ll scream,” I warn. “Don’t come any closer.”

He lets out a laugh. “Go ahead.” His gaze flicks around the empty shop before landing back on me. “Who’s going to hear you?”

I glance around, even though I already know there’s no way out. The print shop is too small, packed with shelves and stacks boxing me in with no second exit.

Oakie senses danger from his wolf and starts to snarl, the way she always does when she’s trying to alert me and I stagger back.

“You’ve been playing games with me, Layla.” His voice drips with malice as he closes the distance. “At the mating ceremony, I let that slide. Thought you were just embarrassed and angry because I rejected you.” His lip curls slightly and his gaze hardens. “But now? You show up at the Alpha lodging with him. What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

My back hits the shelf at the end of the room, and I know I’m trapped because he’s so close now I can smell the mayonnaise from the sandwich he always eats that I absolutely hate.

[Let me out] Oakie demands. [Feed him to me.]

Except the room is too small, and shifting would wreck everything in here and I can’t afford to pay for any of it. Besides, what’s stopping Colt from shifting too and turning this into a disaster?

I should appease him or scream or do something.

My body trembles, and I force out a shaky exhale.

“Suddenly mute?” He growls, stepping into my space so fast I barely have time to react. His hand circles my throat, lifting me until I’m on the tips of my toes and his other hand comes up and slaps me. “Open your mouth and talk. What do you think you’re doing?”

This is Colt, some distant part of me registers. He’s actually doing this.

My pulse is so loud in my ears I can hear it.

I force my lips apart. “We’re not mates anymore so—”

I don’t finish the sentence before his knee drives into my stomach and the pain explodes upward through my chest before I can brace for it. I fold into it, gasping, and his grip on my throat tightens to compensate, forcing me back upright. Tears flood my eyes before I can stop them.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry in front of him.

Oakie is frantic now, slamming against the walls of my mind, desperate and furious and clawing to get out.

Please. The thought comes small and shameful. Please, someone walk in. Anyone. Come to print something. Anything.

But I already know no one’s coming. Classes ended an hour ago. The campus empties fast after 3 p.m. and I knew that when I stayed late, and Colt knew it too and that’s why he waited. That’s why he chose now.

“Whore.” He hisses directly into my ear. “It’s barely been two weeks since I rejected you. Two weeks, Layla. And you’re already doing this?” His grip shifts, his fingers pressing harder. “But let me remind you that I still own you, rejection or not. Maybe I’ve been too easy on you and that’s why you forgot your place.” His lips curl against my ear and I feel sick. “Or maybe it’s him. That Edward. You throwing yourself at him, hoping he’ll want you? What do you even do for him? Clean his room? Cook his meals? Play his little maid?”

I say nothing, mostly because I can’t even breathe properly.

“Answer me.” His voice drops to something almost gentle, which is worse. “Is he going to be the one? Because I promise you, Layla, I waited a full year for something that belongs to me. I’m not handing that over to some guy you’ve known for five minutes.”

Anger burns through me at his degrading words, at his humiliating words about my body like he owns my virginity. I manage to grab onto his arm, my nails dragging down his skin.

I try to kick him and he shuts that down fast, slamming his weight into me, chest to chest, and pinning my legs against the wall before I can do anything with them. The shelf edge bites into my spine.

And then I feel his hard bulge against my stomach and my skin crawls so violently I nearly gag.

He’s enjoying this.

“Get off me.” My voice breaks on the last word and I hate it, hate that he gets to hear that. I jerk my whole body anyway, useless as it is. “You rejected me. I’m nothing to you…your words, not mine, so let me go.”

Colt’s grip doesn’t loosen.

“Edward will find out.” I throw it at him like a weapon because it’s the only one I have left. “And when he does, he’ll come after you.”

He grabs my chin and wrenches it up, forcing my eyes to his. “I said you’re mine and you will be mine until you die. Nobody changes that. Not you or him or anyone!”

When he releases my chin the relief lasts exactly one second before his hand travels down, making sure I feel every inch of the path down my neck, between my breasts, and then lower, and I know where it’s going and I can’t stop it and that helplessness is its own kind of horror.

He cups me there and squeezes. Bile surges up my throat.

I wrench against him with everything I have and he smiles. He actually smiles like my struggle is the best part, like it’s feeding something in him and his fingers begin to move and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I can do this all day.” He whispers, dragging his tongue over my chin. “Every part of you is mine. Every inch. Your little games don’t mean anything to me, Layla. And Amber? Amber can’t stop me. Nobody can.”

“Please.” The word tears out of me and it’s everything I swore I wouldn’t give him.

But it makes it worse. Of course it makes it worse.

His breathing turns ragged against my ear, and he licks a slow stripe up the shell of it. His fingers push deeper, past my panties, and a cry escapes my lips.

My fingers burn. The burn crawls up through my knuckles, through my palms and my claws begin to push through the skin one by one. Oakie doesn’t ask this time. She just comes, flooding up through me, and I don’t fight her.

Do it, I think. Tear him apart.

“Layla, you’re—”

The door opens.