Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
There’s challenge and innuendo in the syllable. She’s testing me.
I stare at the sketch again. “You want to paint black and white flowers.” I make my voice flat instead of lifting it in question.
She nods.
“And what design did you come up with for the color mural?”
She sits back in the chair. “I haven’t decided yet. I want some time in your space for inspiration.”
Oh, I’ll inspire her.
I’ll inspire her to take her clothes off. To spread those gorgeous thighs and scream my name at the top of her lungs when she comes.
To distract myself from that mental image, I pretend to examine the sketch. “Have you ever seen gray flowers?”
Her pouty lips spread into a wide smile. “Never.” Her eyes are lit with challenge. “Have you?”
She’s trying to prove that a colorless mural doesn’t make sense.
With this tigress in my space, it feels true. Before she walked in, I found the palette soothing. It’s also true that I find her disruptive, chaotic, and agitating.
I really need to fuck this female out of my system.
“Use this design for the other mural,” I instruct.
“This is for the black and white one,” she counters firmly.
She’s fucking with me. Issuing a challenge. Trying to show me the folly of my ways.
One part of me–the most familiar part–wants to tear her to shreds. Give her a verbal dress-down, fire her from the project, and send her marching back to Brooklyn in those white patent-leather boots.
But then she wouldn’t come back on Monday.
And I’d still have to deal with her for this bachelor / bachelorette party. And the wedding. Brick would be pissed at me for causing any ripples or discomfort for my luna.
Fuck.
The other part of me refuses to be taught a lesson by this she-devil. She wants to show me that a palette of grey is wrong?
Fuck that. I gave the constraint for this mural. She’s the one who will have to make the mural beautiful within the constraint.
“Approved,” I say flatly. “You’ll start Monday?”
She quickly hides her flicker of surprise. “Yes. I can be here in the morning. How will I get in?”
The normal thing would be to give her a key. I’ll be at work, after all. Or Grayson could escort her up and let her in.
“I’ll be here,” I say before I even realize I made up my mind.
Her brows rise. “You don’t trust me in your place? What, do you think I’ll steal the silver or something?”
“I think you require supervision.”
Her lips part with indignation, but then she lets out a puff of laughter. “I think you have control issues.”
I lock gazes with her. “Definitely.”
She gives me that cat-that-ate-the-canary grin again. “Good luck managing me.”
My dick gets hard. I have a half-dozen ideas of how I’d like to manage her. The punishments I’d issue when she misbehaved:
Clothing restrictions.
Spankings.
A ball gag.
Edging.
Tying her to the bed.
“Good luck working under me.” I might have put a touch of innuendo in my retort.
She lets out another surprised chuff. Her eyes dilate like she’s turned on. I catch the scent of her arousal over her nutmeg scent. Her swallow is audible.
This is the way I want her. Off-balance. Aroused. At my whim.
Now, I act the host. “May I get you something to drink?”
“Nope.” She pops out of her chair, and I instantly regret giving her an escape. “I’ll be on my way. I need to pick up supplies for the job.”
I pull out my gold Amex and hand it to her.
Her thick lashes pop open when she reaches to take it. I don’t relinquish the card, and she’s trapped in my gaze.
“For your expenses. Or for any you incur for the bachelor party.”
“I thought you didn’t trust me with your things.”
“Oh, I’d trust you with my thing.” This time, the innuendo is clear. I release the credit card, and she flips it up to flag between us.
“Careful, Suit. You have no idea what you just unleashed.”
Chapter Eleven
Billy
After Aubrey leaves my apartment, I’m on edge.
I should go back to the Adirondacks to run off this aggression. Having Aubrey scantily clad in my penthouse made me cranky as fuck. The image of her bare legs and midriff keeps flickering in my mind. Her scent has me all keyed up, and now the need to jerk off is almost overwhelming.
But I have more control than that.
Besides, she’ll be back Monday. I can exact my revenge for her ruining my weekend then.
Right now, I need to deal with my dear old dad.
He’s still in town, and Boudicca was able to get a Maine pack member to tell her where he’s staying. The residences at the Four Seasons are lovely, but out of my father’s price range. His small Maine pack doesn’t have the resources that we in the Blackthroat pack do. He’s either abusing the pack’s credit card–running it up for his own personal gain–or someone like Aiden Adalwulf is bankrolling him. My dad’s a piece of shit, so it’s probably both.