Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I whirl to see his eyes flashing a strange shade of amber in the light. He reaches a hand for my hip in a possessive gesture as he thrusts his valet ticket at the attendant.
For some reason, none of my usual snappy responses come to mind. I’m too tired. My brain is churning too much on the Harringtons and my mom and the fact that everyone at Moon Co knows I’m screwing the boss. I’m in limbo–I need to make a decision about this job and Blackthroat, but I keep putting it off because of this. The way I feel every time he demonstrates his interest in me.
I’m hungry for his attention, his affection, his constant approval. I don’t want to give up hearing him growl “good girl” or ordering me around in that bossy way of his and watching as I perform for him. I don’t want to end the game we play because it’s so damn satisfying.
I expect a dressing down about leaving the party, but instead, he modulates his temper for once. Even though I see frustration in the set of his mouth, his voice is a mild rumble. “I’ll take you home, Windows.”
“I can take a cab.”
“It’s snowing, I’m taking you home.”
I muster a retort. “Newsflash, Big Bad, outside of the office, you’re not the boss of me.” My words lack my usual snappy delivery, and he must see it because his often flinty gaze is soft on my face.
“Keep telling yourself that, Madison,” he murmurs.
Brick
Something’s off with Madison, and it kills me. Was she running from me? Or was it something Billy said to her? I will tear him apart if he hurts her. Literally. With my wolf fangs.
Or maybe this is about that bitch, Eleanor Harrington.
I know Madison has issues with money and social class that likely stem from the situation with her father. This probably poked all those wounds.
She ends up getting into my car without a fuss, but she’s miles away.
“Did Billy say something to you?” I ask as we drive.
Her gaze slides my way. “I'm not afraid of Billy.”
I reach out and cup the back of her head, massaging her scalp lightly there. “You're not afraid of anyone, are you, Windows?”
She steals another glance at me, as if surprised by the praise.
“Tell me what he said.”
She shrugs. “He just said nothing good happens to secretaries who fuck the boss.”
I grind my teeth, trying to hold in the growl that rockets up my throat. He’s definitely going to feel my wrath. “He will apologize to you on Monday,” I grit.
“Don’t,” she says. “I’m a big girl. I can face the consequences of my actions.”
“Nobody speaks to you that way,” I snarl then catch the reflection of my gaze in the side mirror and realize my eyes are glowing yellow. I draw in a deep breath to calm myself.
“You’ll just make it worse. I don’t need you to defend me. I’m fine.”
“Talk to me, Madi. Why did you leave the party?”
“It’s just been…a day. You know?” Her voice catches, and she turns to me.
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Yeah. I’m sorry. What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
I hate how immediate and final her response is. I hate everything about the way this night is going. Instead of dropping her off at her apartment, I drive around the block to find a place to park.
“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” she says when I miraculously nab a spot a half a block away.
“Invite me up.”
“To my apartment?” She lets out an incredulous laugh. “No.”
“Then come to my place.”
That seems to unnerve her, like sleeping in my bed is far too intimate an act. “Not happening.” She flicks open the handle and uses her elbow to push the door open.
I climb out of my side and walk around. “Invite me up.”
“I have a roommate–Aubrey, remember?”
“Do you share a bed?”
Another shocked laugh tumbles from her full lips. “Brick…”
I take her hand and walk her to the apartment. “The weather sucks. I don’t want to drive back to Central Park.”
“You want to spend the night in my apartment.” She says it with a note of disbelief, like the mere idea of me staying in Brooklyn is shocking.
Maybe it is. My friends would certainly think I’d lost my mind. This is going far beyond sex with my assistant. We’re entering uncharted territory.
But the idea of letting Madi go to sleep alone tonight doesn’t sit right with me. I sense the wobble in her world, and I need to hold her through it. Do whatever I can to get her back to her beautiful center. Besides, if she’s having a melt-down around money and social status, proving I can sleep in Brooklyn without a fuss might help erase whatever beliefs she might have about the rich being assholes who step on the backs of the poor to stay on top.