Kidnapped Alpha Mate

Chapter 19- Game On

Em's P.O.V.

I was sitting at the kitchen table with Michael, Miller, and Sam, fingers wrapped around steaming mugs of tea. The wind tapped at the windows like it wanted in, but inside, it was warm, safe almost.

I was mid-laugh, something light and teasing on my tongue, when suddenly my chair scraped hard against the floor.

Then I was airborne.

A squeak escaped me—undignified, high-pitched—as strong hands gripped my waist and lifted me straight out of my seat like I weighed nothing. I barely had time to blink before I was spun around, legs dangling, to face Jackson.

He was shirtless.

Of course he was. His skin glowed in the morning light, taut muscle flexing along his chest as he held me effortlessly, an amused look in his eyes.

"Jackson, put me down!" I shouted, half-laughing, half-mortified.

He only tilted his head, tousled wet hair falling across his forehead—and then, the bastard did it.

The one thing I hated.

With a wicked grin, he launched me straight into the air like a damn football.

"Jackson!" I shrieked, the ceiling flashing past in a blur. For a breathless second, my stomach flipped—and then gravity snatched me back down.

I slammed into his arms, solid and warm and annoyingly smug.

He set me down, but my knees were shaky. My heart hammered like it wanted out of my ribcage.

"Do that again," I growled, brushing my hair from my face, "and I swear you'll never have kids."

He laughed low in his throat, then leaned down, close enough that his breath stirred the tiny hairs at my neck.

"Then how will I pleasure you?" he whispered, voice rough and velvet-soft, like sin wrapped in honey.

I gasped—actually gasped—and glared up at him. "I'll find someone else."

The words left my mouth too fast.

His expression darkened, something primal flashing behind his eyes. A low growl vibrated from his chest, not entirely human. Possessive.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out the kitchen and into the living room, heart still racing.

Jackson stalked after me into the living room, jaw clenched, eyes still glowing faintly with heat. He was ready to go off—probably yell, maybe pace, definitely brood like the overdramatic alpha he was pretending not to be.

For some reason, that made me smirk.

He opened his mouth, already winding up for a full rant, when footsteps padded into the room. Edward and Sophia appeared from the doorway, hand in hand, eyes locked on each other like the rest of us didn't exist.

"Oh," I muttered, blinking. "That's new."

"Whoa—when did that happen?" Miller called out, strolling in behind them with a grin.

"Last night," Edward said with zero shame, his smirk loud and proud.

Jackson raised a brow, already suspicious. "Wait... did you guys—"

"No!" Sophia shouted cutting in quickly, cheeks pink. "We're taking it slow."

"Sure," Jackson muttered under his breath.

"Cool, cool," Michael said, flopping into a nearby chair. "But Edward, where were you? You weren't in your room this morning."

"Oh, that's 'cause I slept in Soph's room," Edward replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. He plopped onto the couch and tugged Sophia down beside him, their knees touching.

Jackson turned back to me, eyes narrowing. "So let me get this straight. Edward and Sophia slept in the same room. Probably in the same bed. And you still won't let me sleep in yours?"

I folded my arms, already bracing for this argument.

Sophia looked up from where she was curled beside Edward. "Well, technically... not the same bed."

"Ha!" I said quickly, tossing Jackson a victorious look. "There. Not the same bed."

Jackson just stared at me. "You're impossible."

"And you're pushy," I shot back, heat rising in my face, "And also you didn't ask, and I didn't invite you to sleep in my room," I said, giving him a duh-tone and raising one brow.

Jackson smirked, unbothered. "Oh? So can I sleep in your room tonight?"

I tilted my head and gave him a slow, obvious yes face, letting him think he had won. Then I deadpanned, "I don't think so."

The rest of the group broke into soft laughter and muffled snickers, but Jackson and I were locked in a stare-down like two wolves circling the same prey.

"And why not?" he asked through clenched teeth, his voice low.

I leaned in slightly, unblinking. "Because you think you can just have me—served up on a silver platter. You think I'll follow your every command like some obedient little mate—"

"Yes," he interrupted, far too quickly and far too smug.

I stared at him, blinking in disbelief. "Do you seriously think I'm that easy?"

Jackson leaned back, arms stretched behind his head like he was the king of the world. "Well... yeah."

The room went dead silent.

"You shouldn't have said that," Sophia muttered under her breath, eyes wide.

I smiled. Slowly. Sweetly. Dangerously.

A plan bloomed in my mind like a dark little flower.

"Okay," I said, voice airy and calm as I turned on my heel and walked out of the room.

Behind me, Sophia let out a soft giggle. "You're so going to get it now."

Jackson blinked after me, confused and cocky all at once. But he didn't know what I was planning.

He'd learn soon enough.

Game on.