Chapter 3 #2
Billy isn’t nearly as amused as I am. In fact, his expression turns downright stormy. It’s a look I could love.
“Yes, let’s start with dinner,” I say brightly. “There’s a great sushi place around the corner.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t protest.
I head to the back room to let Caroline know and say goodbye to Jan and Jamie, pick up my jacket and satchel, and reemerge.
Billy snatches my jacket from my hands with his signature irritation, and for a moment, I think he’s going to throw it on the floor or something, but he opens it, and holds it out for me.
I stare at my opened coat, dumbfounded. I’m twenty-three years old. I grew up in Jersey and live in Brooklyn. I’ve dated musicians and artists. Social justice warriors. Nice guys with big hearts. But I’ve never once had a guy hold my jacket for me.
The feminist in me wants to demand to know whether he thinks I’m incapable of putting on my own coat, but that would be silly.
Clearly, no man holds a coat for that reason. Just like they don’t hold doors open because we’re too weak to pull a handle. It’s a courtesy. Good manners. Chivalry.
And I don’t hate it.
Especially from a guy who looks like he’d rather suck a lemon than show deference to anyone. I rather like seeing the manners bred into him through fancy prep schools and a Yale education. Almost like something he’s compelled to do rather than wants to do. Like this wedding stuff.
So I accept the gesture, sticking my arms into the jacket and letting him lift and drop it onto my shoulders.
He inhales deeply and then holds his breath.
What the hell? He’s probably only smelled richly-perfumed women in his privileged world.
I twist to look up at him. “Do I smell bad?”
He rubs his nose and gives a quick dismissive shake of his head. “You smell like nutmeg,” he mutters. He puts a hand on my lower back and propels me toward the door.
Nutmeg?
“And honey.”
“So…not bad?” I stop in the open doorway to look up at him again. We’re close–our bodies colliding as he stretches a long arm out to hold the door open for me.
It must be some bizarre biological reaction to his size and sheer power because I’m suddenly turned on. My nipples get stiff, and heat travels south between my legs.
He gives me a formidable scowl. I’ll bet looks like that make the people who work under him run for cover.
I don’t move from my position, wedged in the doorway with him, his arm extending beyond my shoulders to hold the glass door ajar. My lips stretch into a slow smile–my response to his unhappy expression.
Making him scowl is my new favorite pastime.
Billy
Nutmeg and honey. Cafe Girl’s scent is no less potent now than the first time I met her. The way it hits me in the chest and travels south to my groin is both a painful and ecstatic experience.
I want to sink my teeth into her skin and–
No, that’s not right.
I definitely do not want to mark her. Is that what I was imagining?
Fuck no. There’s no way I’d mark a human. Especially not a waste-of-oxygen-nobody like this female. Why would I even picture that?
That’s…so wrong .
Everything about her is wrong. Her feisty attitude, for one.
She’s never met anyone she wouldn’t challenge.
I doubt she bends a knee for anyone, even if they’re more powerful than her.
She’s reckless and willing to put herself in danger for what she believes in.
In my dog-eat-dog world, that can be suicide.
It also turns me on. Makes me want to savage her. To shove her against this door frame and wrap my fingers around that long, slender neck. Kiss her with bruising force before I tongue-fuck her mouth.
I want to teach her to drop to her knees for me. To learn to please me.
Fuuuuuuck. The image of her gazing up at me in submission with my cock between those pillowy lips nearly makes me jizz in my trousers.
No.
Erase, erase, erase.
Fuck. I can’t get the image out of my head.
To my utter shock, she reaches for the lapels of my suit jacket and smooths them. “This is going to be fun.” She gives me a bright, disingenuous smile.
Something twists in my gut. Misgiving about the meaning of that smile coiled with something more sinister.
Something I can’t even fathom.
The desire to win a real smile from her pouty mouth. The desire to have her hands on me for other reasons.
I want to spank her ass for creating such a riot within me.
Internally, I’m snapping at her to move her ass out of the doorway, but the only words that choke out of my throat are, “Is it?”
Her smile grows wider. The silver nose ring she wears glints. It would sear my skin if I touched it. “So fun. Let’s go, Suit.”
She finally releases her invisible hold on me by moving through the doorway. I suck in a deep breath of not-her to try to regain some of my brain cells. She sashays ahead of me, strutting in her white patent leather Doc Martens like they’re a pair of six-inch heels. I stare at her ass as she walks.
Spankable.
Very spankable.
Fucking gorgeous. I can’t wait to see it bared.
No, wait. That’s not happening. I’m not going to fuck this human. She doesn’t deserve my attention. She isn’t worthy of my time.
Plus, it would be messy. I’d want to do horrible things to her, and she’d cry to Madi, who would talk to Brick. I’m already in the doghouse with him.
I want to go back to being his most trusted advisor and friend. I seriously miscalculated when I tried to get rid of Madi. It’s a failure that still keeps me up at night.
I hate failures.
Aubrey leads me to a sushi place around the corner. I look around doubtfully. The place is clean but tiny and low-budget.
“You’ve eaten here before?” I ask doubtfully.
Shifters generally don’t get food poisoning, but the idea of her getting sick on raw fish puts me on edge.
She rolls her eyes. “What? Do you think good sushi has to cost a hundred bucks a roll? This is good food.”
I shrug. “Fine.”
I need to just grit my teeth and get through this meeting. Find out what’s required of me for the wedding and be done with it. Coming here to meet with her in person was a mistake.
And yet, even as I have the thought, I’m certain I’ll be making the mistake again.
We order at the window and take a number to our table. I sit down and openly study the human.
She quirks a “what?” eyebrow to show me I’m being too obvious.
“So tell me.” I spread my hands. “What do I need to know about this wedding thing.”
“Well. You’re in charge of the groom’s shower and the bachelor party.”
I frown. “ Groom’s shower?” I’ve heard of bachelor parties, but a groom’s shower doesn’t ring any bells. Granted, I don’t run in human circles, so it could be something new.
She nods. “Yes. You have to host a brunch with mimosas and invite all of your male relatives and hers to bring gifts and play games.”
My upper lip lifts in a snarl. “ What? ”
“What?” There’s something overly innocent in the way she’s looking at me.
“You’re fucking with me.”
She flashes a smile that goes straight to my dick. Her lips have a purple-mauve gloss on them that makes me wonder what shade her nipples are. What color her nether lips turn when flushed with blood and arousal.
“Yes, Suit. I am. It’s way too easy.”
My cock is unbelievably hard. I spread my legs to make room for my erection. I don’t know why I seem to like her fucking with me. I’m glad we’re sitting down, so she can’t see the tent in my pants.
“So no groom shower?”
Her laugh is low and throaty. A husky sound that brings to mind a fresh image of her on her knees.
This time she’s naked. Hands tied behind her back, so those big breasts are lifted and spread for me.
“No groom shower. But definitely a bachelor party.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Is Brick the strip club type?”
Now I’m picturing Aubrey swinging topless from a pole. That image makes my dick happy, but my wolf gets pissed at the idea of a room full of men seeing her tits. A snarl of jealousy tangles up around my throat.
I will not make it through this dinner. I force a shrug. “No. Not really. Especially not since Madi. He wouldn’t look at anyone else.”
Aubrey relaxes. I’m not sure why she seems surprised by that news. But then, she doesn’t understand that Brick is a mated wolf. She’s not part of our world.
“Well, maybe we should think about a coed party. I know Brick is sort of jealous, so he probably wouldn’t want me taking her to a Magic Mike show, right?”
“A coed party?” I can’t keep the skepticism out of my voice. All of this sounds abominable.
“A joint bachelor/bachelorette party. You might have heard it called a Jack-and-Jill party. Often a destination event–like we all go to Vegas together.”
“Done,” I say. “How’s this for a deal–you arrange everything; I foot the bill.”
I’m used to throwing money at problems. It’s the advantage of being a billionaire–I hire out any task I don’t want to do.
But stupid me. I forgot how much this female hates money.
I made this mistake with her before when I was trying to save Brick from moon madness. Offering money only incenses her.
Her cinnamon-colored eyes flash. “I don’t think so, Suit. This is your punishment. That means you have to play.”
Something about her words excites me. Oh, yeah. I know which words. Punishment. Play.
How would she respond to punishment? Fuck, I’d love to bend her over and warm her ass until her pussy is dripping.
Except…I think she’s turned on by the idea of punishing me.
And somehow, I don’t mind that, either. She could strut around in a latex catsuit and point her crop in the center of my chest. Command me to lick her pussy until she can’t take any more pleasure.
Would I grovel for her? Never in a million years. But I’d eat that pussy.
Yeah. I’d definitely lick her clean.
I tug at my tie to loosen it. I’m way too hot around the collar. “Fine. You want to play with me? Let’s play.”
Her pupils dilate, and her scent thickens. Yep. She’s definitely turned on, too.
Damn. That thought sends my brain on a race around the moon and back.