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)
Which doesn’t make sense, since I spend all of my waking hours scheming about how to keep my power over him.
I cock a hip. “Is it working?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I plan to use it to buy stuff for Pepper.”
He turns off the water and grabs a kitchen towel to dry off the dog. When he finishes, he sets the sweet pup down on the floor and strides over to me. The little dog follows right at his heels, his whole butt wagging with the force of his tail.
“Good boy, Pepper!” I croon. “Are you all clean?” Yes, I’m talking to the dog to distract myself from the approaching danger.
I try not to look at Billy’s bare forearms. They’re not that sexy. They’re not sexy. Oh God–why are they so damn sexy?
Billy comes right up to me, crowding into my space. “What reaction were you looking for?” If I didn’t feel the electric magnetism pulling my body toward his, I might find him intimidating. I’m sure his employees cower when he brings this forbidding expression.
I put a hand on his chest to push him back, and he catches my wrist and twists it, spinning me until it’s pinned behind my back. It doesn’t hurt, but the agility of the move shocks me. Like this guy is some kind of Taekwondo expert or something.
He uses his grip on my wrist to pull me flush against his body. “Are you waiting for me to punish you?” His voice is a low rumble. So sexy. He’s so close I can smell his minty fresh breath. I’m acutely aware that mine probably smells like coffee. I close my lips.
His eyes track the movement.
“I had a feeling that’s what you were into,” I accuse, trying to turn it back on him. I hate how breathless I sound.
A feral smile creeps onto his face. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile before. It changes his entire face. Makes him twenty times more handsome. “Oh, I’m definitely that guy.”
Everything in me ignites, turning my insides to molten lava. My pussy gets wet–dripping wet. I’m close enough to examine his perfectly shaven square jaw. The divet in his chin. The patrician nose.
“I had a feeling you crave being overpowered.” The velvet bass of his voice seems to lick between my legs.
I get dizzy with the impact of his observation. It’s not something I ever identified in myself, but the words ring some internal bell so soundly it’s like every nerve ending in my body reacts.
I don’t like how out of control I feel. How exposed. “You wish.” I throw as much scorn into the words as I can.
The ghost of a smile reappears around the corners of Billy’s lips. I find it alarmingly enticing. “Silver,” he rumbles, “I watched you come in the middle of my kitchen just from me grabbing your wrist.”
A puff of breath leaves my lips. He has me off balance right now, and I hate it. God, I still can’t believe he saw that!
“I could make you come again in less than sixty seconds right now. Just say the word.”
My pulse picks up speed. Word. Word! Yes, please. Except no. I can’t give him the satisfaction.
I draw scorn around me like a cloak. “Full of yourself much?”
He gives me a cool look. I’m burning up, and he’s all calm containment. “I’m just stating facts. I think you want to know what it’s like to have all control wrested from you.”
Something squirmy happens in my belly–a mixture of excitement and tension. I deny it all. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He tilts his head, still cool as a summer popsicle. “I know a bit. For the rest, I have some guesses. You want to hear them?” I’m still his captive, my arm twisted behind my back, my front pulled against his body. I’d fight for my freedom, but he’s right—I love feeling his strength and power. And I want to know what happens next.
I lift my free hand and make a beckoning motion— the kind you see in martial arts movies. Show me what you’ve got, Suit.
“Let’s hear it.”
“You’re attracted to me, but you also actively dislike me. Which is why you don’t want to give me anything, including your smoking hot body. You think you can’t trust me. Understandable. For one thing, I screwed over your best friend–an act I partially regret.”
I open my mouth to demand why only partially, but he’s on a roll.
“For another, you have a hang-up with Wall Street guys in general. Or maybe just the broad swatch of the wealthy. You assume I’m conservative, politically, because I love money, and you’re so far left, you’re coming around the bend to the right. Regardless, I’m about as far from your type as they come.” He tilts his head to the side. His gray gaze bores into me. “Maybe that’s part of the attraction.”