Alpha Ian's The One and Only

Chapter 21

"A lampshade!"

"A spinning top?"

"No, it looks like a thread in a needle."

"What nonsense!"

"Come on, guys, it is not that difficult," Jay says.

"Uncle Jay, no talking," says Bri, and Jay throws up his hands in mock frustration. "Mmm mm mmm mmm," he tries to tell her, making her giggle.

After our very emotional but rather happy reunion, the children spent all their time with Jay, asking questions about his whereabouts and what happened, which Jay answered without revealing much. He divided his time equally among the three, listening to what they had to say, giving his views wherever needed, and he even coloured and sat for tea parties with Bri. After polishing off the delicious chicken roast and pasta Ian had cooked for dinner, everyone is now sitting in the living room playing Pictionary. Claire and I tried to help with dinner, but he shooed us both, telling us to spend time with Jay.

"You should take drawing classes from Brielle," Bane smirkingly suggests. Creed and Bane stayed back while Markson went back to the pack.

I start to get up. "Wait, you can't leave the game unfinished," Liam says, popping popcorn in his mouth.

"It is dancing ballet." I throw a pillow at him and stand.

"What? How is that a dancing ballet?" Claire turns her head from side to side, trying to picture a dancing person.

"You are bluffing," Liam says.

"No, she is not. It is a person dancing ballet," Jay signs. "How can you not figure it out? It is so simple."

"Your drawing nowhere near resembles a person," Liam gestures towards the said drawing, baffled by the answer and the said drawing. "How did you figure it out?"

"Jay's drawing is like a doctor's handwriting. It takes a lot of practice to understand." With that said, I go upstairs to my room, their arguments fading in the background. Once in my room, I refreshen-up and change into my old, faded but soft PJs and matching t-shirt. When I come out of the bathroom, Ian's sitting comfortably against the headboard of my bed, waiting for me.

"You have a guest bedroom all to yourself."

"I know."

"Then why are you here?" I ask, walking into my closet. The cool air around my back turns warm. I feel his breath on my neck as he leans in. He places both his hands on the shelf in front of us, caging me in, and runs his nose along my neck, trailing soft kisses, making me shiver. Making my core tighten and needy. Oh, I want him so much. Now more so than ever. "Ian," I say breathlessly. He continues his assault on my neck and shoulder.

"How many relationships have you had in the past?" His growl sends a shiver down my spine.

Huh? My muddle mind registers his voice, but it seems to have difficulty in understanding. He presses his front to my back and wraps an arm around me. Oh good, because my weak knees were about to betray me. "Natasha." He bites my shoulder, making me moan. Slowly, his words make sense.

"What?" My voice still sounds breathless, like I have run a marathon. Get a grip, Natasha, the man has only kissed your neck.

"How many men have touched your soft skin?" he asks again, trailing his hands under my t-shirt. "How many men have made you moan? How many men have kissed you? How many men have you slept with? How many, Natasha? How many men do I have to kill?" his voice holds a dominant tone that demands obedience. His hold wasn't tight, so I ducked from under his arm and put some distance between us. He growls his displeasure. "Answer me."