Enchanted by Alpha

3. Santa's Cottage

*Samantha*

I had been quiet as a mouse when Archer hit the pedal and entered that snow-covered road into the unknown. Although I was grateful for the rescue, being alone in his presence made my body react like I had never responded to anybody, not even Timmy. I felt his cologne and secretly inhaled it, reveling in its intensity; it stimulated my senses so strongly that a particular lady down there decided to wake up and drool over the hot stuff behind the wheel. I squeezed my thighs shut, hoping that I could quickly escape the car and walk off my desire to jump his bones and ride him like a pony. I sighed.

This man would be the death of me. I thought as I once again inhaled his surprisingly addictive scent of musk combined with the sweetness of cinnamon apple pie, and I almost moaned with hunger. I was ready to eat the man just five minutes in his presence. One look at his muscular biceps and I drooled over having a bite. I cleared my throat and exhaled while turning right to look out the window at the darkening scenery surrounding us. We hit the forbidden forest, and my heartbeat increased as Archer effortlessly swerved his pickup through the trees. I saw nothing but a stack of snow and tree trunks. It seemed that the blizzard was just about to hit at its strongest, and I voluntarily let myself be dragged into the place with a small escape route.

"Just a few minutes, and we'll be at the place. Hold on a bit more, Mimi." Archer suddenly announced in his deep and throaty voice, and I turned to look at him for the first time since he strapped me in his car. His tone made me clench my thighs even tighter as the vibration suddenly traveled to my lady's parts with no explanation. He sounded as if he was restraining himself from doing or saying something, and surprisingly, I found it arousing instead of frightening. And the way he said my nickname given by him and used ONLY by him made me cream my panties even more. What was wrong with me? I thought as I scolded myself internally for drooling over a man who did nothing but help me up and rescue me from the incoming snowstorm and being frozen to death.

"And where would that be?" I asked, my voice a bit raspy making me sound like a damn scared cat. Damn, he made me feel so small and intimidated even though he did nothing but help me out of the trouble. I watched as his knuckles over the steering wheel turned white by the iron grip he had over it, and his profile showed a clenched jaw and narrow eyes focusing on the road before him. Was he mad?

"Someplace safe. Don't worry." He affirmed, continuing to focus on the road ahead of him. I hummed in response and returned to looking out of the window at the passing trees and the zillions of snow covering the ground. I felt a gust of fresh yet cold air and inhaled it even as a shiver ran through my body, and I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the source of its intrusion: Archer's side window, which he had opened halfway right, allowing the cold breeze carrying millions of flakes to settle on his face and clothes. He looked relieved or calmer, and I noticed his grip on his stirring wheel lessened. I felt relieved and, at some strange point, disappointed at his relaxed posture. I was bothered by his presence, and I secretly wished to be a source of his distraction, too. It seemed the universe made only me susceptible to my high school crush charm, not the other way around.

"Hold on, here's a real bump ahead," Archer warned. Before I could react, I squealed as I felt him ride over a huge bump, making me jump in my seat, clutching the seatbelt for dear life.

"f**k, Mimi." He cursed while he put his large hand on my upper chest and pushed me towards the chair, preventing me from hitting the dashboard with my forehead. I felt a wave of heat radiating from his hand, and I gasped as I felt a small zap of electricity run through my body. My eyes widened, and I turned to look at him only to find him clenching his jaw, almost making his teeth gnash.

"Thank you," I whispered as I regained my composure, and the reality of my situation dawned on me. Archer saved me again, this time from an expensive dental visit or plastic surgery to repair my skull. I blinked a few times, trying to understand my situation. Still, before I could lash at him for riding over an obstacle too fast, I peeked through the snowy windshield and noticed a small clearing with a lighted cabin in front of us.

My eyes widened when the wipers cleared all the snow from the windshield. I saw a beautiful view of a mountain cottage decorated with Christmas lights on the porch and gray smoke rising from the chimney in the middle of the roof. I held my breath as Archer parked directly before the porch with a stash of firewood and Christmas decorations resembling raindeers, trying to peek over the railing to check the window.

"Oh, my God. Where are we?" I marveled at the view as I unbuckled the seatbelt and was instantly charmed by the scenery. That was something I wished to experience once: a simple and cozy life in a mountain hut, sipping cocoa or mulled wine, staring at the falling snow outside the window, warming myself in the warmth of the fireplace, wrapped in the arms of my loved one. A romantic at heart. Yeah, I know, I'm hopeless. But who could stop me from dreaming?

"You like it?" Archer asked as he shut the engine and looked at me expectantly. I hadn't noticed it before, but he sounded nervous, as if my answer was crucial to him, although I had no idea why. I turned my smiling face to him, and for the first time in my life, I decided to act as childish as I sometimes felt.

"Are you kidding me? I love it. I hope it's Santa's place or at least one of his elves. It's magical, and I want to marry the guy who lives there just to be whisked away from the depressing world and live in a fairy tale." I said with the enthusiasm I hadn't heard in myself for ages as I opened the car's door. Even though the wind was trying to keep me inside the car, I pushed further and jumped out of it right into the cold, snowy cushion that reached almost my knees. I shivered but thrust through the snowdrift to find myself on the porch decorated with beautiful lights.

"f**k, Mimi. You'll get sick." I heard Archer curse before he slammed his door shut and quickly joined me on the porch, shielding me from the brutally blowing snow. "Let's get you warm, baby." He added and pushed me toward the door. If not for the sudden died-down storm, I would not have heard the endearment he used before practically pushing me inside the house that smelled strongly of his scent and a hint of simmering goulash soup and freshly baked bread. I closed my eyes and inhaled the perfect combination while my stomach decided to express its urgency for a meal. I blushed as I heard Archer chuckle behind me while he closed the door and proceeded with his clothes. I peeked through my eyelashes and saw him take off the thick coat that made him look like a Sasquatch, and when he did and tore off his hat, I gasped, taking in him for the first time. I remember Archer Wellington as a well-built, tall teenager with short hair, sweet chocolate eyes, and adorably protruding ears. Still, I now saw a picture of a different level of beauty. He was no longer a boy. No, he was a man. And a man he was.

He was over 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders, tones of muscles, and facial hair that made him look like a lumberjack. His innocent eyes took on a more serious expression, and his protruding ears clung to a head full of dark curls tied in a loose bun. His arms had the reach of an excavator and probably the power of one. His massive legs could easily crush me with one movement, and the size of his feet could be compared to almost the entire length of my forearm. In front of me stood a mountain of muscle that looked at me like prey about to be pounced. I felt like a little girl compared to him, and I probably was, barely reaching his shoulder even though I wore my almost four-inch heels. His whole arm was thicker than my thigh, not to mention the difference in weight. He looked like a good two hundred pounds while I recently celebrated a reduction to below a hundred. I felt intimidated and suddenly self-conscious with a powerful wave of uneasiness. I was in the middle of nowhere with a man I barely spoke a few words with since high school.

"So." he cleared his throat as if sensing my nervousness. "Just to be clear, we're at my house at the northeast part of the sawmill territory and about ten miles from the city. The blizzard is gaining strength, and from what the weather forecasters predict, it will last at least two days, cutting off the main road to the airport. So you have two options." Archer stalked towards me, and I stepped back, suddenly intimidated by his giant figure, "You stay with me until I can get you out of the city, or you take my car and navigate through the trees until you find the airport." He offered, and I suddenly gasped at the thought of leaving his peaceful and luring home to wade in the snow without navigation skills. I pondered his offer and noticed that he gave me no choice.

"I'll stay," I said faster than I could remember the twists and turns he took to get us here. His handsome face lit up with a smile that almost made me come in my freezing wet panties, and I quickly looked down, trying to avoid the humiliation that the sight of this smiling divine man was causing me.

"Great. I'll show you the room, but first, let me take that thin coat and warm you up with a mug of mulled wine and a soup my momma brought this morning from the local market. It's a local hit, and judging by the smell, it has a well-deserved opinion." He encouraged and chuckled as he gestured for my brand, but unfavorable in current conditions coat, which was more soaked than my panties after meeting the Archie Wellington after a decade.

"Yeah, right. It smells like Mrs. Grace's cooking. I hope it tastes at least comparable." I said as I slipped out of my coat and shivered. I felt his fingers graze over my neck, sending a strange wave of electricity through my body. I felt charged, as if his presence was a charge to me, and his every word and move brought me closer to the moment of discharge, yet I had no idea why.

"I hope so, too. The kitchen's this way. Momma said that everything should be ready in seconds." Archer directed me to the door with a mistletoe and red sash interwoven among the leaves in the form of wrath glued to the panel. Before I could ask who did that, I was pushed into the wonderland of scents, and I moaned the moment the same smell of Grace's goulash hit me, and an unknown power of hunger woke inside me, making me a wolf hungry for its prey. I saw the pot on the stove with a few fresh loaves of garlic bread beside it, and I attacked the food like a lioness.

I quickly noticed the bowls next to the stove and filled them to the brim while Archer watched me, letting me act all crazy over the food in his kitchen. I put the bowls on the small dinner table next to the island, and when I returned to cut the bread, I noticed that Archer had already taken care of it. He had placed the cutlery on the table with a brewing pot of mulled wine in the middle.

"Extra pep or pap?" he asked, pointing at the two containers of spices in his hands before setting the right one next to my plate.

"Pep," I said as I bit my lower lip, seeing him dote for me more than any man ever. He put the pepper container next to my plate and sprinkled the paprika over his without trying.

"You're sure you can handle this? I'm not a pro, but this smells like Grace's, and she loves spices. It should be enough to rip your nose off when you sneeze." I joked as I sat on the chair opposite him and inhaled the lovely aroma.

"I'ma big boy, and I love it hot. So hot." Archer said as if he was referring to something different than food. Then I noticed his hot gaze directed at me while he put the first spoon of his goulash in his mouth, and I froze. I was expecting a full-blooded scream of spice overdose, but I received a gaze that almost melted me with the chair, causing me to gulp my spoon with a cough as the content went to a different hole than it should. I spat, blew my nose, and coughed out everything off my throat, staining not only my clothes or the table but Archer's impeccably handsome face, which looked like a red-dotted portrait contrasting his cold nature.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry." I started apologizing, but when I slid off my chair and approached Archer to wipe his face, he raised his hands to stop me. He was cool and calm, but even behind his closed eyelids, I saw the storm coming, and I shut my mouth so as not to worsen my situation even more with my blabbering.

"As I said, I like it hot." He said as he washed the remnants of my spit off his face and smiled at me before standing off the table. I licked my lips and waited for him to throw me out and scold me for being childish, but what I received made my heart skip a beat.

"Next time, I'd rather receive a kiss than a spit. But I'll take everything you're willing to share with me, Mimi. Finish your bowl, and I'll show you to your room. I have a very intense morning looking for your luggage." He commented, and after a word kiss, I stopped listening, focusing on his red, plum lips, mouthing some words while I imagined them doing wonders to my body. There must be something wrong with me because I let the man I barely know to swoon over me and lure me into his home like a moth to the flame approaching the unknown with no backup, support, or even a damn phone to call the cops. I finished the soup and avoided his face for five minutes of our meal. I felt my ears redden with embarrassment, and my heart ached at the thought that I had just closed all doors to a holiday romance by making a total fool of myself.

"It was Graces," Archer said when he led me through the large living room illuminated by the large fireplace to the doors behind the wall decorated with fake brick wallpaper. I stopped and looked at him, puzzled, before he enlightened me over the topic.

"The soup. It was Grace's. She started selling her dishes at the Christmas market almost five years ago, and every year, something unique. This year's market theme was regret. I had no idea what it stood for, but when I tasted it, I knew." Archer said as he looked at me with something sad shining in his chocolate eyes, but he quickly masked it with a small and tired smile when he opened the door, and the scent of flowers hit me.

"I didn't know. " I admitted more to myself than to him, but he heard, yet didn't comment but flicked the light to illuminate a small but very nicely and spaciously furnished bedroom.

"Ellie uses it when she doesn't want our parents to find out she's been drinking too much. They always know, but let her think otherwise." He explained with a chuckle, and I giggled, too. I remember Ellie being about six years younger than me; the last time I saw her, she was a spitfire teenager kicking all boy's asses at the football pitch.

"You'll find all the necessities in here. That door over there is a bathroom. It's not much, but it has everything you need." He pointed at the sliding door near the small wardrobe, and I nodded at him.

"Thank you," I said as I looked at him with a grateful smile, almost crying my eyes out at the thought of him not passing my car and sawing my sorry ass. I lost my clothes and cosmetics, but if it weren't for him, I would have lost more, my life. I was undoubtedly standing in the path of death by freezing to death or, worse still, being eaten by the wild animals inhabiting these forests, most likely wolves.

Archer gazed at me with so much intensity that I wondered what he was thinking. I felt my heart beat sped up as he took a few steps closer, not taking his eyes off my face. His hands were at his sides, but when he was close to smelling his cologne, he raised his right hand and brushed his knuckles over my cheek, sending another wave of addicting zaps of electricity throughout my body, and I couldn't hold my body's reactions. I moaned and closed my eyes, enjoying the moment. I suddenly wanted him to do more, to slide his hand over my throat and grab it while angling my head to his liking. I felt goosebumps imagining him tearing off my clothes and grazing his hands over my skin until he memories every inch of me. That thought awoke the lady between my legs again, and I rubbed my thighs together, feeling the need to release.

"f**k, Mimi. Damn you, Temptress."He growled as he retrieved his hand, taking those pleasurable sparks. I didn't realize what I was doing before his eyes turned darker with lust, looking at me with its addictive intensity. "Good night, Samantha." He said before he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, taking not only his divine scent but his electrifying warmth that now I realized radiated from him every time.

"Night Archer," I whispered in a labored breath as I released it, not knowing I held it for the entire time since he touched me.

"What the f**k, Sam? A second later, you would rub your bean in front of this god of a man." I scolded myself, half whispering as I slapped my forehead for being stupid. This man was doing things to me like a damn magician to hypnotize the audience. He played me like a fiddle, and I had no control over my body around this man.

"Get a grip, girl," I said as I hid my face in my hands and groaned to get rid of those treacherous feelings taking over my body and mind.

I looked up at the ceiling, and when I felt my body was halfway to its normal state, I looked around the room. It was not standardly small, but in my case, it was more like the size of my wardrobe. I was used to large spaces. My room in my parents' mansion is four times larger than this bedroom, and my apartment in New York is at least twice as large as this beautiful wooden cottage. But did it matter now? Not really. In truth, I feel more warmth and homeliness in this small room than in any other place, not to mention that this entire cottage had more warmth and love vibes than my single bedroom. It may have been built with love in mind when I purchased my apartment when Jeremy offered me the best offer I expected.

I walked towards the bed and grazed my fingers over the fluffy, freshly changed bedding before sitting at the edge, testing the mattress's flexibility. I gazed over the wardrobe and walked towards it, hoping to find some comfortable flannel pajamas I could borrow or at least some T-shirts and cotton shorts. I almost squealed in surprise when I saw it stashed with warm pajamas, cotton t-shirts, leggings, hoodies, unopened packs of panties, sports bras, and socks, all in surprisingly my size. Ellie must have come here often or bought things for a few months in advance. I quickly grabbed a pair of fluffy socks, panties, and red checkered flannel pajamas before heading to the sliding doors leading to the bathroom.

Archer was right. The shower cabin was small but had everything I needed: towels, shower gel, soap, and shampoo. On the small sink, I found a wrapped toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a comb, and a small bottle with the inscription "Argan oil for hair.” I smiled at my lucky stars, closed the door, and set the clothes on the small sink before opening the shower cabin and turning on the water.

It took me seconds to undress and place my dirty clothes into a laundry bin before the small space filled with steam and heat, and I stepped inside with a deep sigh. The moment I felt my muscles relax under the pressure of the stream, I moaned and placed my hands on the wall, letting the water massage my neck and shoulders as I succumbed to the pleasure. I felt relaxed, relieved, and surprisingly exhausted, most likely letting my guard down entirely for the first time today and letting all the emotions I had been feeling finally catch up with me. I felt my eyes close in bliss, sating my tiredness. My muscles relaxed, almost making me fall to the ground, but I tensed my knees and stood there, allowing myself a minute of stupor before I found the strength to analyze today's events.

My parents not only didn't warmly welcome me to my family home, but they downright scolded me for coming without my boyfriend. I felt as if Timothy was more important to them than their daughter. Who the hell sends their child to bring a scum of a boyfriend for Christmas even though he was a shitty one? They should be happy I kicked his sorry ass, not patrone me about letting him go. I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks, and I let them fall while I sobbed, hopefully silently, despairing over my hopeless family.

What did I do wrong to deserve such a cold treatment? I did my best in everything to please them, mostly my father. As a member of one of the oldest families in the city, my father, as the last representative of the van der Meer family, felt like an aristocrat, exalting himself wherever he could, bragging about his family fortune and boasting about his contribution to the annual holiday project to help the city, which the mayor initiated with the help of the wealthiest families in the area. I will not brag, but there was a time when I proudly told everyone about my father's achievements and good deeds before I discovered, thanks to my guardian angel Jeremy, what my father's real contribution was to all these miracles for Kallispel. Insignificant. Several other donors contributed more funds and deeds, with one family anonymously contributing almost sixty percent each year. No one knows who, but my father decided to take credit for this.

I was devastated and beyond angry, but my father told me to keep my mouth shut and focus on my studies to become the newest addition to the most prestigious law firm in the city, Shelton & Fenderson LLP. Little did he know I rejected their offer when I applied for the clerkships. I did feel proud when they answered, but at that time, I felt like my path deviated significantly from that paved by my parents. Without consulting them, I made a life-changing decision and changed my career path to finance. With Jeremy's encouragement, I turned to trading when I showed him my wallet after I thought it was some fun on the stock market. He praised my results and told me I have talent or luck and can use it fully. That's what I did; I invested almost half of my money and turned it into a nice fortune. Even if my parents cut me off from their money, I would still survive without any help.

"Awoooooooo."

I gasped as the wolf's howl tore the sky, causing a shiver to run down my spine. It sounded close, like dangerously close to the cottage, and it took me out of my thoughts and brought me back to the current situation. The water hitting my back was lukewarm, suggesting the incoming end of the hot water supply. I quickly washed myself using the cosmetics stashed in the shower and walked out of the shower cabin. I dried myself off, looking at the small skylight under the ceiling, expecting wolves scratching at the wall, trying to get inside. I felt like I was being watched even though the window was too small and covered with a frosted window film. I quickly jumped into the clothes without brushing my hair or teeth. I walked out of the bathroom, climbed onto the bed, and crawled under the duvet, almost pulling it over my head. My heart was beating like crazy, but I heard no more howls for the next several minutes. When the adrenaline finally wore out, and the warmth of the bed settled in, I moaned and stretched before I lay down in the fetal position and fell asleep with a deep sigh under the same roof as Archer Wellington.