8. CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 8
Cassidy
Graham rings the bell right on time.
I open the door and offer him a small smile. "I didn't know you were capable of making such a humane entrance."
He lets out a huff, his eyes not leaving mine. A strong wave of heat blows into the apartment. "Where would the fun be in that?"
I gesture for him to enter and close the door. "If you wanted fun, you picked the wrong girl."
He gives me a serious look. "I don't know if I believe that. There is certainly nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun every now and then. Is there?"
Oh, isn't that the million-dollar question?
And, for some twisted reason, I'm wondering how to answer it in the form of a smart-ass remark. He's made me into a different version of myself. Or has he simply awakened a dormant part of me I've managed to bury for most of my life?
My silence makes me nervous.
"Anyway," I say dismissively, turning around and practically running away through the living room and to the kitchen.
His mere presence and the sound of his voice cause some inconvenient reactions in my body. My face keeps betraying my presence of mind, keeping hot like an oven. I have no control over my blush, and that sucks.
How he can keep such a calm presence in all of this is a mystery to me. He is either cold and calculating or an asshole, and that's comforting because it makes him predictable.
His behavior with me is always out of the ordinary, however. Constantly shifting and unsettling and not giving me a moment's notice of his moods. And that is the single most terrifying thing about being around him, whether I'm looking at him or listening to him talk.
I'm not usually capable of settling down my arousal or calming the butterflies in my belly or taming my brain from devising sinful scenarios when he's near. Right now, I'm definitely not. Not at all. In fact, they are actually getting worse with time. Worse as in racing inside of me, sending some jolts of electricity through me every time my thoughts get out of hand.
The look he's currently giving me from across the room makes me wonder if I should consider using the kitchen knives if he does try anything. But...do I really want him to get in trouble because of my inability to let a couple of harmless hormones manage themselves?
I'm sure he can already smell my arousal anyway. The thought brings the heat up a notch.
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Graham asks as he brings the bags to the kitchen and sets them down on the table.
"How you're going to die tonight if you keep messing with me," I retort quickly.
"You're welcome to try, Cassidy. I'd love the opportunity to add some much-needed fresh air to your sheltered existence."
I love the way he says my name.
Fuck.
"Well, maybe you should mind your own," I suggest. "Because I promise you one thing, Graham, you won't be able to match my speed when the time comes."
Graham tips his head back and laughs. The rich sound makes my insides twirl. "I'm not sure whether you do it on purpose or you're simply forgetting that out of the two of us, I'm the shifter. And trust me when I say, my wolf can match and double everything you throw at us."
I gulp and avert my eyes downward. They land on the two bottles of wine in his hands.
"We should start drinking," I say in a small voice. I'd prefer not to remember any of this later on. Or anything at all. To be honest, it is starting to feel like too much.
"Way to change the subject," he comments. "And the night hasn't even begun."
"Do I have to remind you that this is a strictly business dinner?" I say, hoping to regain some composure.
"I will follow your lead, Cassidy," he says, taking his sweet time to taste the name on his tongue. "As long as you behave, I won't do anything you don't want me to."
I should press the matter. Instead, I lower my head and work on setting the table. Maybe he'll be able to smell that I'm still scared shitless of him.
"No need to be tense, Cassidy," Graham whispers, his face dangerously close to mine, his breath tickling my neck, his masculine scent penetrating my nostrils. "Even if you don't trust me, your body does. Listen to it. There's nothing to be afraid of."
Yes, there is, I want to yell at him.
I am afraid. Terrified, in fact.
Afraid of the strange sensations he evokes in me. Afraid to ask him to fill the emptiness inside me.
Desperate to hold on to the ghostly threads I'm weaving between us, trying to prolong the inevitable—our separation or worse, my death.
I am the worst kind of stupid. It's almost refreshing. I have to remind myself that it's just wrong, because after all, he's a wolf.
But I also haven't been with anyone ever since Tim and I broke up. We’d dated for two years, during which we weren't very sexually active, but at least there was an occasional release.
Damn, how long has it been? A year? One and a half?
Too long.
That's how long it has been. Too damn long.
What is happening? I'm developing a crush on a man who'll make my life hell on Monday, and I'm doing it in record time.
Shouldn't I be afraid, even cautious when I'm dealing with someone who can rip my throat open with a couple of savage bites? Yes.
Yet he smells too good and looks delicious and he is too attentive toward me.
But if I wasn't thinking with my vagina, I'd have run away from his presence screaming. Unfortunately, I'm way past that phase, and I can't seem to shut the door anymore.
His presence makes me crave forbidden things. And that's fucking terrifying.
However, now that he's by my side, I'm starting to feel safer. How is that even possible?
The more confused my head becomes, the greater my cravings. Now I'm even wishing to be his in ways I can't even define.
I wouldn't mind belonging to him.
Belonging to him? I must be losing my mind. As if he would keep me around once I've served my purpose.
"Do you have a wine opener?" Graham whispers against my neck. The vibration of his breath reverberates through my soul.
My body's definitely not listening to the demands of my mind. What is happening to me?
Get a grip. Yes, a grip. Like, on myself.
And that's precisely what I do. "The first drawer."
If Graham feels or notices my retreat, he doesn't comment.
Or care.
But I can't deny that he keeps me as close as I keep him. And that makes no sense. But then again, not much does lately.
He pours us a glass of wine. He opens the food containers and takes a fork, diving into the near-raw steak. His moans seem to only be for the satisfaction of making me cringe or pissing me off or simply to mock me. There's definitely nothing remotely erotic about his groans.
I check through the containers, looking for something to eat. Once I go through three containers whose contents don't make me happy, I begin to accept the fact that I won't be eating tonight. I'm not interested in a white shark fillet or beef kidneys.
"There's pizza on the bottom of the bag," Graham says with a wink. "It's what you usually order for lunch when at work."
"How do you know that?" I demand.
"The company pays for it," he replies with a shrug. "I make it my business to know everything that's going on in the company."
"Which is why this hack must really bother you," I retort.
Graham turns rigid. His eyes darken.
Is it me or did the light in the room dim? The shadows have certainly become more prominent.
"It does," he says with a low voice. His previous lightness is all gone now. "So, Cassidy. Ready to start talking about how we can kick out the radicals' asses and get our life back on track?"
"You're the boss. The way I see it, you tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I reply before taking a bite of my pizza.
"If only it was that easy," he says, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
"I'm guessing that our first order of business is locating the leak," I say, wanting to get back on track before my insides melt. He nods. "We will also need to review the footage."
"Which is why I set you up in my office," he confirms and sets down his fork. "I hope you're enjoying this weekend. It's the last one you'll have off because we won't rest until we bring down the radicals."
"If being stalked by my boss is your idea of a free weekend, you seriously need to reconsider your employment policy," I tell him dryly, needing to lighten the mood.
"Sure I do. As soon as I find myself a new employee. Might be a hard thing to do since you're so competent. But if you prefer my attention to go to someone else, all you need to do is say the word," he teases.
A pang of jealousy squeezes my stomach, but I refuse to acknowledge it. I'm sure nothing good can come from it.
"The way it looks now, I have to make the best of this situation," I tell him seriously.
What does it mean, though?
"I still have a company to run," he says, his voice turning serious again. "During the working hours, you will resume your duties and use the time to keep a closer eye on your content analysts as well as software engineers. I will attend meetings and make sure to keep the human government happy."
"What about outside those hours?" I ask, raising my brow in challenge though I don't know what I'm challenging him about.
"Outside those hours, you and I will get very comfortable with each other," he replies, the corners of his mouth lifting. "We will work in my office, my home, and even your home if necessary. I hope you don't have a boyfriend because you're going to see more of me than you would of him."
The double meaning of his words makes my cheeks flush.
He winks. "Who am I kidding? I hope you don't have a boyfriend because, if you do, I'd have to rip him to pieces."
An unexpected bubble of happiness bursts from within my heart, my panties going as damp as a woman can get.
He better be joking.
Or not.
Damn.
"I would ask if I scare you, but I already know the answer," Graham whispers. He tilts his head to the side and sniffs, his intense gaze holding mine captive. "Are you going to play nice with me or not? Be careful because it's a serious question."
"I will," I offer in a whisper.
He raises a brow.
"Graham?"
"What?"
"I'm not afraid of you," I admit slowly. My pulse is rushing so fast.
Why the fuck did I just say that?
I glance at the wine. Sure enough, we are already well into our second bottle. And now that I think about it, Graham is still on his first glass.
"You should be," he murmurs, his pupils turning dark with lust. "I'm just a beast who craves one thing above all. A woman's curves, and the scent of her arousal."
I avert my eyes to my plate and take another bite of my pizza. As enticing as his words sound, they also make my fear resurface. If the monster beneath his skin does indeed crave such things, am I strong enough to face him?
For the first time, I worry that I might've bitten off more than I can chew. I'm not sure I can deal with it.
It's almost time for dessert, a little voice speaks inside my head. The voice sounds a lot like mine, but it has a lusty, flirty tone that I didn't even know I could do.
What the hell is happening to me?
I can't be on a date with a wolf who is also my boss.
And yet, I am.
I'm also enjoying it. A lot.
And, I think it's time I started putting that wet pussy of mine into some action. That will most definitely help.
Once and for all.
Unless it destroys me.
Trial and error. One way or another. It's on.
God help me.
I can't believe I've gone from terrified to horny in a span of less than twenty-four hours.
My thoughts are completely mixed up now. I'm writing it off to the amount of wine I've had. It must be its fault, otherwise, how could I explain what I’m about to do next?
Once I finish my glass, which is also the last of the second bottle, I feel bold enough to give my body what it wants. This is my last free weekend, so I might as well go all out and enjoy it. Hell, it's been months since I've had a good fuck session. Graham certainly looks like he can give me a good time.
Besides, I've always had a secret hooking-up-with-the-boss fantasy. Doesn't every woman have one?
It's true that I never considered said boss to be anything else than human. But as long as his parts are all in order, which I can attest to because I'd seen them less than twenty-four hours ago, we should be fine.
That's the line of thinking that pushed me to jump out of the chair and throw myself at Graham. From his surprised expression, I can assume this isn't a common occurrence.
Not with me. Not at all.
But apparently, I've developed some masochistic tendencies that make me crave all the things my mind tries to shield me from. Which I guess is a pretty harsh way of saying I'm no longer scared shitless to share my desires with him. At least, those particular desires. I want him to touch me.
His hands instinctively find my waist, stopping me from falling. Trusting him to keep me upright, I close my eyes and crash my mouth against his. The taste of his lips is wild, earthy, and intoxicating. It's so unlike kissing a human. And I love it.
The kiss is slow and exploratory. I push myself closer so that he is flush against my breasts, and I can feel his hard cock pressing against my belly.
As he pulls away from the kiss, his eyes are black as the darkest time of the night. And he takes his sweet time to roam his gaze over my face as if searching for something.
I gulp, realizing my body wants him, desperately.
His nostrils flare, and he slowly licks his lower lip. His hand comes up to cup my cheek.
Graham is so close now, and his heat engulfs me. My legs are trembling, and I can't think straight. But it's okay, I don't have to.
His black eyes rest on my mouth. Our breath mixes together. My chest heaves. I lick my lips nervously. Waiting.
He grabs my ass and gently pushes me into him. One hand begins to slide to my face, then to the nape of my neck.
"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" I challenge, breathing into his face.
Suddenly, I realize I'm practically faking a brave front.
Am I? Am I really? My mind is too tired for debates.
Can I seduce my scary, badass wolf boss without losing my mind or getting hurt in the process?
Can I continue with my dare before I get too freaked out to finish it?
He traces along my neck and jaw with a finger until it reaches my bottom lip. Graham hesitates for a moment.
We stay frozen in the position where I'm standing between his legs as he sits on my kitchen bar stool for what feels like ages, not saying anything. I don’t dare to make a sound.
Then he kisses me. He presses his mouth hard against mine, and it's a passionate, desperate kiss.
His tongue in my mouth feels foreign at first, yet I know the body that houses it. And, his is a nice body, with smooth, chiseled abs, and a hard, impressive cock. And arms…and shoulders.
Nice body. Very nice. Not threatening at all.
But there's more. So much more.
Because as much as Graham is imposing when he's all alpha wolf-asshole, right now he's a lion stalking his prey.
And I gladly offer myself to be his first choice for this evening's dessert.
He takes his time though. Tasting. Torturing. Trailing one of his fingers down my front, stopping just above the fabric covering my pussy.
Pushing closer, so close his cock presses hard against my belly.
He kisses me like a madman, using lips and teeth and tongue.
I drink him all in. Consuming every hot, desperate moment of the kiss. I've already waited too long for this. Too fucking long. His cock presses hard against my belly with his heavy breathing of desire.
Feeling bolder, I lick his lower lip, then gently bite into his flesh. His hunger radiates and fills the air around us.
"Tell me what you want, Cassidy," he whispers huskily against my ear. He gives it a light bite, and I shiver.
"You," I manage through a fit of moans.
"Any particular part?" he inquires with his low, raspy voice.
Why is he being such a douchebag?
Oh, who cares.
I pull back and narrow my eyes at him. "Would it satisfy you if I say your cock? Would that make you feel better about yourself?"
The left corner of his mouth quirks upward into a grin. "Was that supposed to be a burning remark, Cassidy? Because all I hear is you begging for me to fuck you so you can finally find out what it's like to be impaled by a real man."
"You're annoying and getting on my nerves," I admit. "The asshole side isn't working on me."
"Sweetheart, everything about me works on you," he counters, pressing his lips against my neck. Then, pulling away, he adds, "Well, except my wolf form maybe."
"Wow, Graham," I reply with a shudder. "You really know how to talk to women, don't you? Oh, I don't know, maybe you should work with a wolf trainer to correct your ability to piss off a girl."
"I'll pass. I happen to find it amusing when I get on your nerves. Besides, I'm not a fan of changing my habits."
"Can you do me a favor?" I inquire. He raises a brow but makes no effort to comment. "Can you keep on silent mode? You're much more handsome like that."
Instead of replying, he surprises me by diving in and nipping at my lips.
First, the bottom lip, then the top. And the bottom lip again. His kisses are violent, demanding, and unrelenting, leaving my knees weak and shaky.
And I'm certainly not going to fight it anymore. My head may keep me from confessing how I really feel about it all, but damn if he doesn't make me want him. I don't care anymore if it's just going to last for a fleeting moment, that it'll soon turn to dust. I simply want Graham to conquer my body.
He trails his tongue downward, tasting and teasing me. The sensation is unreal.
I feel a change inside me, from the very depths of my gut. I breathe in fast. All I can feel is a hot, wet, need down there.
Soon, we both become a ball of limbs, all tangled up. He moves his hands upward, pushing me into him. I'm all stiff, not knowing what to do or how to act around him. But the wine is turning me pliant.
"Bedroom?" he whispers with a smile. "Unless you want me to fuck you on the kitchen island first."
And there he is. The true Graham. The Alpha.
Something about him is so wild and unfamiliar that I gasp. A look of almost triumph settles in his gaze.
"Bedroom sounds good," I manage to reply.
He lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist, then grip his black hair, which is messed up because of me.
His cock is as solid as a rock, pressing against my center. He must use his wolf senses to walk us toward the bedroom. My eyes roll back as he presses himself into me even more, using my bedroom's doorframe to restrain me.
"Are you one of those women who fantasize about fucking their boss?" he asks, his eyes gleaming dangerously. "Or do you prefer the boss to fuck you?"
"Actually, I fantasize about ripping off my boss's head in the middle of a full meeting room," I retort sweetly. He presses himself against me, making me whimper.
His cock seems to be fighting the fabric that keeps him away from me. "If that doesn't work for you, fucking the boss instead will do just as good."
"It's fuck or be fucked, Cassidy," Graham growls. "Your behavior will determine what will happen next. I plan to be very generous."
I stay put in his arms and let him carry me toward the bed. For once in my life, I actually deserve a night of having an actual man dominate my body.
After everything I've been through since my break up with Tim, I can only ask for normal. As normal as being with a shifter can be. Or should be.
With surprising gentleness, Graham sets me on the bed. He lowers himself until our eyes are leveled. A fire of lust and desire is burning in his gaze.
"This is the last time tonight I'm going to be serious, and I need you to listen to me," he says and pauses.
I realize he's waiting for me to acknowledge, so I force my head to nod.
"I'm a wolf, which means I'll fuck you hard. If any of this gets too much for you or if you want to change your mind, you need to tell me. You need to be clear. And because I'm also your boss, I'm going to need you to verbally confirm that you want this. For legal reasons, you know."
A nervous laugh escapes my throat. "Don't be a killjoy, Graham."
He stops with the teasing. His face turns serious. "Do you want this, Cassidy?"
Fuck.
Do I? I mean...it's happening anyway, right?
But maybe I'm crossing the line here. Maybe I'm letting my emotions and hormones take over my better judgment. But what's happening has been in the making for a while.
So why stop it?
Why not enjoy the view before he wrecks me?
Why not be willing to let go?
There's only one way to find out.
My throat constricts with fear. My body tries to tingle its way out of it, but Graham pins me under him, and my fear and desire intertwine, driving me mad.
"Say it," he demands.
"I-I want this," I barely whisper.
"Good girl," he growls.