Alpha Snatched Me From My Human Date

It was Sunday, allowing Rosette ample time to prepare for the date. She had let her long blonde hair out of its usual ponytail, styling it in cute curls. Rosette emphasized her green eyes and applied what could pass for lipstick. Standing at 5'8, she was not unattractive with a size C chest and a generous rear end. Having spent considerable time running the hospital stairs during her training, she had grown proud of her legs and wanted to flaunt them. Choosing the only skirt she owned, a snug black piece with a thigh-high slit, Rosette paired it with a tasteful red sleeveless top and a thin black sweater for warmth.

Twirling in front of the mirror a couple of times, Rosette ensured the colors complemented her pale complexion, especially during the winter months when she tended to look fragile. Satisfied with her appearance, she aimed for a look that was neither overly doll-like nor too provocative, just enough to capture a man's attention.

Upon her arrival, Rosette found her date already seated at the restaurant, known for its impeccable service and elegant ambiance. The layout consisted of several cozy dining rooms, most of which were empty, likely due to the off-season. A group of men occupied one section, with only one other couple present in the small dining area.

"Rosette," her date greeted as she approached, "so lovely to meet you!" Standing up, he reached for her hand, which felt cool and slightly damp. Kate's description of him turned out to be accurate—a tall blonde man who seemed to devote more time to his hair than she did. His unnaturally flawless tan hinted at tanning bed sessions.

"Jerson, thank you for the invitation. I've always been curious about this place, given its excellent reputation," Rosette remarked, gesturing to the elegant surroundings. She was eager to release his hand as they took their seats facing each other.

During their meal, Rosette had ample opportunity to observe Jerson, who was quite talkative and seemed to be involved in real estate, judging by his well-tailored charcoal grey suit. While retrieving her fallen napkin, she noticed a man from the larger group staring fixedly at her from across the room, his intense gaze making her feel uncomfortably exposed.

Adjusting the slit in her skirt to cover a bit more leg, Rosette glanced over once more. The man displayed a complete lack of manners, his eyes freely roaming her body as he grinned and winked. Meanwhile, Jerson prattled on about a beachfront view condominium, completely oblivious.

"Well, it's not like I wasn't seeking male attention when I chose this outfit," Rosette thought to herself, "I just hoped to aim a bit better."

Following that initial encounter, it turned into a game for Rosette. She peered over Jerson's shoulder at the man every few minutes, particularly when Jerson delved into discussions on roofline architecture.

Even seated, the man's tall stature was unmistakable. His lustrous black hair cascaded in waves to his ear, complementing his golden olive skin that exuded a healthy and outdoorsy vibe. Observing his nearly flawless physique, Rosette noted his large, muscular hands placed on the table.

Despite his simple attire of a polo shirt and casual slacks, he exuded an air of authority. It was evident that he was well-regarded at the restaurant, given the staff's attentive demeanor towards him. Whether he was an owner or a wealthy patron remained uncertain.

Rosette found herself fixated on observing "Mr. Tall and Dark," as she had dubbed him. He wore a constant smile, but when Jerson reached for her hand, she noticed his tense jaw. Pretending a cough, Rosette withdrew her hand and received a subtle nod in return, signaling their peculiar unspoken exchange.

Lost in reverie about Mr. Tall and Dark, Rosette envisioned his strong arms enveloping her and his powerful mouth on hers. She wondered if his physical prowess matched his captivating appearance. Their silent stare-off seemed to evolve into a captivating interlude, punctuated only by brief interactions with her dinner companion.

As Mr. Tall and Dark's dinner companions remained oblivious to his distraction, engaging in their own discussions, he continued gazing directly at Rosette. Occasionally, he said something to the group, halting all other conversation at the table. Rosette concluded that he held a position of authority.

"Where do you reside, Rossett?" came the inquiry from her dining partner, breaking Rosette's trance of staring back at Mr. Tall and Dark.

Caught off guard by Jerson's intense blue gaze, Rosette managed to respond, "On the east side." Jerson seemed satisfied with her answer and launched into a discussion about the rising property values in the east side.

Rosette shook her head as she gazed at her partially eaten meal. Despite being at the finest steakhouse in town, she couldn't fully enjoy the food as she found herself stealing glances at the enigmatic man. Prodding at her steak with a disgusted sigh, she realized she was neglecting the eagerly anticipated date. Glancing at Jerson, he prattled on about the advantages of a 15-year mortgage while she mechanically nodded along.

What Rosette truly craved wasn't a man knowledgeable about mortgages; rather, she yearned for someone to satisfy her physically. Anything would suffice at this point. Even the awkward fumbling of her high school exes, from her last dating experience, now seemed appealing.

"No, no, no," she scolded herself. Dating is for finding a life partner, and that's her primary goal. Gazing up, disappointment washed over Rosette as the tall, dark stranger was nowhere to be seen. At least now she could focus on Jerson, notwithstanding the uncomfortable moisture between her legs that distracted her. Squirming in her seat to alleviate the sensation, she sought a more comfortable position.

"Um, excuse me, Jerson, I just need to visit the ladies' room," she whispered with a smile. Jerson returned the smile and guided her back in the direction they had come from, providing directions that seemed to evade Rosette's attention.

Navigating through the restaurant, Rosette inwardly reproached herself for squandering a promising date with Jerson by flirting with a stranger. Attempting to calm her nerves as she walked, the presence of the tall, dark man left her unsettled.

Lost in the labyrinthine layout of the restaurant, Rosette stumbled upon a group of waitresses conversing animatedly in a corner. Politely asking for directions, they eagerly guided her to the restrooms. "This place truly lives up to its reputation for exceptional service," she mused silently.

The restroom exuded an art deco charm, featuring individual cubicles for privacy and a spacious central mirror for grooming. Standing before the ornate gold mirror, Rosette critiqued her appearance and adjusted her curls, though they remained unchanged.

Suddenly, Rosette was no longer alone. With a forceful shove, the towering man pushed her into one of the private bathrooms and closed the door behind them. He was not just tall, but enormous. His firm grip on her arms pushed her against the wall, eliciting a gasp as her back met the cool tile. Meeting his gaze, Rosette nervously remarked, "This is the ladies' room." A faint smile played on his lips as his thumb brushed against her lower lip.

Up close, his scent was intoxicating, a blend of leather and spice. The heat radiating from his chest was palpable. Realization dawned on Rosette – she was about to face a disturbing encounter in the women's restroom.

Rosette placed both hands on his chest and pushed hard, but he didn't budge. Opening her mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by his, tasting like heady red wine. His tongue explored her mouth skillfully, inducing a low groan when she tentatively reciprocated. Feeling his warm hands cupping her face and cradling her head, she surrendered, realizing she wasn't resisting him anymore.

He enticed her with his seductive mouth, using his body to keep her against the wall. Determined, he ran his hands down her body, resting on the swell of her backside. Gently rubbing and kneading, he caused her skirt to gradually bunch around her waist. Clutching the hard muscles of his chest, she corrected herself - pectoralis muscles, as her eyes snapped open.

"I am a doctor. I am in a nice restaurant looking for a man to marry. I'm not desperate enough to engage with a stranger in a bathroom," she thought to herself, turning her head away and pushing at him once more. He chuckled, nuzzling her neck and nibbling at her skin, his rough 5 o'clock shadow sending shivers down her spine.

Successfully moving her skirt out of the way, pooling it at her waist, he slipped his hands under her underwear, pulling it down her legs. Seizing the opportunity, he firmly grabbed her backside, eliciting a throaty groan as he squeezed handfuls of her derriere while she futilely pushed against his chest.

"Stop this right now," Rosette breathlessly commanded, but he seemed unfazed, moving a hand to cover her exposed mound. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses on her sensitive skin. As he slipped his fingers between her moist lower lips, her intended threat to scream transformed into a different response. His exploratory fingers glided along her slit, gently caressing her sensitive bundle of nerves with a finesse she had never encountered before.

Discarding her underwear and parting her legs for better access, she absentmindedly ran her hands along his muscular chest. Engaging in an aggressive kiss, she explored his mouth, while his fingers expertly teased and caressed her, arousing pleasure with each touch. Pulling back from her swollen lips, he gazed into her eyes with evident satisfaction at her heightened arousal.

She was rapidly unraveling as her hips moved under his large hands, completely surrendered to their control. Lost in the sensations, she pressed her pelvis against his fingers, yearning for more. Running her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck, she relished the feel of the smooth, robust muscles beneath.

Breaking their intense gaze, he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, clothes and all. She couldn't contain herself. Moaning, convulsing with his fingers just entering her, she experienced a mind-blowing orgasm.

Her legs felt wobbly, her breaths quick and shallow. Her pale skin flushed unmistakably hot. Leaning against her, his forehead resting on hers, she couldn't discern whether she felt humiliated until he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. That was the breaking point.

Pulling down her skirt, she attempted to maneuver past him towards the door, but he halted her with one strong arm. Pinning her against the wall with his hip, she realized the true magnitude of his size. Feeling his outline pressing into her stomach, her eyes widened as she comprehended what he might believe she 'owed' him. Gasping in horror, she searched his face.

He smiled down at her, devoid of malice. "You are perfect," he murmured before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

She returned to the table clutching her sweater over the wet mark on her right breast. Struggling through the remainder of dinner with Jerson, she never managed to alleviate the damp sensation, which now felt a hundred times worse.

Too rattled to retrieve her panties, she felt as though the back of her skirt was soaked. To compound matters, she couldn't comprehend Mr. Tall and Dark's laughter as he escorted her out of the stall or his cryptic, "I'll see you later, Rosette."

'How did he know my name?' echoed in her panicked thoughts throughout the meal.

Thankfully, Jerson appeared content to continue his discourse on real estate woes in the twentieth century. At one point, he remarked that she seemed flushed, almost causing her to burst into laughter.

"Must be the cold that's going around," Rosette stammered, "I should probably head home," eager for an escape.

Jerson appeared momentarily concerned, but his expression remained unchanged, unable to furrow his brow in genuine worry. Feeling a surge of absurdity and on the verge of laughter, she urgently needed to leave.

The chill outside seemed to revive her scattered thoughts. Clutching her sweater tightly around her, she handed the valet her ticket. It was just a momentary fling, she reassured herself. Nothing to fret over. Happens all the time to other women, she imagined.

The absence of any emotional response when Jerson's lips met hers as their cars arrived troubled Rosette more than anything. The memory of warm lips pressing her against a cold bathroom wall lingered in her mind, prompting self-reflection on her feelings.

Getting into her truck was the first genuinely comfortable act she had undertaken all evening. Retrieving her iPod from her purse, filled with loud, obnoxious music for escapism, she cranked up the rock music as high as it could go, trying to drown out the night's unsettling events.

Rosette raced home at speeds she wouldn't typically drive, the speedometer nearing ninety when she noticed red and blue lights in her rearview mirror. Pulling over on a quiet stretch of highway, she found herself uttering curse words she hadn't used in years.

As she fumbled with her glove box, the officer casually approached her car and leaned in through the open window, assuming the most relaxed pose she had ever witnessed from a police officer. She sat there with her license and registration, staring at him as he casually picked up a strand of her hair, sniffing it before placing it back on her shoulder.

"So, what's the rush, Miss Rosette?" he inquired, without requesting her identification. The situation felt bizarre, teetering between amusement and unease.

"I was just heading home, not feeling well...," she trailed off as she realized he already knew her name, observing him take another deliberate sniff of the air.

"He had you worked up, didn't he?" the officer remarked. She then noticed the imposing figure leaning into her window, his thick, dark hair styled in a short military cut sparking a sense of recognition.

"Well, I asked you a question," he teased, smiling and leaning in. "Y-Yes," she stammered, "I'm worked up," too terrified to elaborate.

The notion that this man might be aware of what had transpired at the restaurant was incomprehensible to Rosette. Shaking her head slowly, she gazed at him, dismissing the possibility.

"Slow down," the officer advised, withdrawing from the window and tapping her shoulder. With that, he walked back to his cruiser, deactivating the lights and merging back onto the road, waiting until she started her truck and maneuvered ahead of him, trailing her all the way home.