Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
She sways forward even more, leaning into me. Her soft breasts brush against my ribs again.
For a moment, she manages to focus enough for our gazes to lock. Her breath smells of tequila and lime, her lipstick is her usual bold red, but the heavy black eyeliner makes it clear she’s in costume.
“Were we terrible? Should I be mortified? I had to drink just to get on stage. That’s why I’m slurring. I don’t usually overimbibe. Not my style.” She side-steps like the floor moved beneath her feet, and I pull her against me again. Just to steady her. Not because I missed holding her upright.
She gasps, face tilted to mine. Then she looks quickly around the ceiling, and I realize what she must’ve seen. My eyes were glowing. My wolf showing. She’s looking for some logical cause, like a colored light shining on them.
“Time to go, Windows.”
“Windows?”
“That’s your new nickname. For the window dresses.”
She laughs but puts her hands on my chest and pushes away. I release her instantly. I’m not the kind of guy to strong arm a woman if she doesn’t want it. “I don’t need a ride. I’m going home with someone.”
A sharp spike of jealousy goes through my gut. My nostrils flare, and my mood turns black. “Who?” My question comes out a snarl.
Madison blinks, looking uncertain. She doesn’t answer me right away, and my possessive instincts are taking over.
It’s none of my business. I have no right to ask. But I have to know. “Tell me. Now. Who are you going home with tonight?”
Chapter Twelve
Brick
A wrinkle appears between Madison’s brows. She’s meeting my eyes, in the way only she can, searching my gaze for the truth. “Why do you want to know?”
That’s a billion dollar question. “I need to know you’re safe.”
Her pupils grow larger. “Why?”
I can’t answer her. I don’t even know.
The lead singer of their band appears at her side. “Oh my God, is this the Big, Bad–”
Madison pokes her in the ribs to shut her up. She thinks I don’t know what she calls me.
The girl waves her hand at me. “You’re the boss, aren’t you? Did you see our show?”
“Mr. Blackthroat, this is Aubrey, my roommate.”
“Roommate.”
“As you can see, I won’t be going home alone.”
Ah. I almost lost my shit there for a moment over her going home with her roommate. What the hell is wrong with me? The tension in my neck and shoulders eases, and I unclench my fists.
“We’re besties.” Aubrey hooks an arm through Madison’s and tilts her head at me, wrinkling her nose like she’s trying to figure me out.
“Anyway,” Madison breaks in, shooting her roommate a look I can’t interpret, “I don’t need a ride. Or a bodyguard.” Madison narrows her eyes, which makes her tip back and lose her balance. I catch her elbow again. “Were you acting as my bodyguard tonight? Is that why you stayed?”
“I didn’t stay,” I insist, which is foolish, since she’s already caught me in the lie.
“Fine. You didn’t stay.” She smiles like it pleases her that I’m an idiot.
I need to walk away.
Leave.
I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time.
I force myself to stand and reluctantly release her elbow. Then I take her guitar strap off her shoulder. “Want me to take this so you can enjoy yourself?”
Her pretty lips form a little round “O” of surprise. Then she recovers quickly. “You see?” she says, poking my arm. “You are nice. You just don’t want anyone to know it.”
“I’m the farthest thing from nice you’ll ever meet, Ms. Evans. Don’t forget it.”
With that parting shot, I carry her guitar out of the place and walk to my car.
I need to go to the Berkshires to let my wolf out. The need to run, to hunt, to kill, nearly blinds me.
I should fire Madison Evans. Right away.
Before I cross the point of no return.
Madi
“Your big, bad boss is totally into you,” Aubrey says, turning a spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream upside down, so she can lick it when she puts it in her mouth.
We’re sharing a pint for dinner. I shove my spoon in the carton and dig deep. “He literally admitted to being turned on by the sight of my skin.”
“And you should’ve seen the way he was looking when he had his arm around you. I mean, he was nothing–nothing–like what you described.”
“I said he was beautiful.”
“You said he was beautiful but a nightmare on wheels. That guy last night? Total gentleman. Hot, rich gentleman. You should go for him.”
I give her an exaggerated look of horror. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend Aubrey?”
She laughs. “What?”
“Um…rich asshole? No thank you.”
“Let’s examine the facts. Rich asshole who seems to hate everyone but you. That’s kinda hot.”
I roll my eyes and snatch the ice cream carton away from her.