She narrowed her eyes as her gaze crossed his, and he couldn’t exactly place a word on what transpired there. He only knew one thing: she was hot. Very, very hot. He wanted her so bad it was almost painful.
Cutting their staring contest short, her head snapped back to Daunte, making Rye want to roar in protest. He’d never been so easily dismissed. Most females, dominant or not, would have nodded to him, at least.
He didn’t like her indifference to his status or his vibes. Not. One. Bit. His tiger heartily disagreed, seeing it as a challenge.
“You told them to leave us alone? Wise,” she sweetly said to his Beta, “What else did you say about me?”
Her knee dug harder into his Beta’s throat, and Daunte croaked, “Nothing, I swear. Dammit Aisling, I didn’t have a choice. We have cubs. A witch, a Seer, and five others. One of them is two.”
While she kept Daunte on the ground for another ten seconds, she then got up, letting him go.
“Talk.”
“Wolves. We fight them, but some of them stay back, and aim for the weaker members of the pack. They never make it. Our Seer’s just nine, but she’s gotten stronger and stronger over the last three years - what she sees happens unless we change our decisions. I just thought for one second that we could stay here for a while, and she saw we were safe if we did that. Do you really think I would have come to you if I had any other choice? I don’t actually enjoy getting my ass kicked.”
The woman glared, but the glow of her eyes slowly faded; they reverted back to her natural human gaze, an amber which was a little more normal, and just as mesmerizing.
“You could have called,” she grumbled, turning back towards the house without another word.
Rye looked - of course he looked. Fuck, she could walk away from him any day, with an ass like that.
Daunte got to his feet, and smiled, yelling after her, “We’ll be here a week, tops - downstairs, no one will go upstairs. Then, we’ll get a place nearby. We’ll stay out of your way.”
He wasn’t asking permission, and to everyone’s surprise, the woman he’d called Aisling just shrugged indifferently.
“You still run that bakery?” he asked, and somehow that must have been pushing his luck, because she turned, her eyes flashing gold again.
“We’ll order in bulk. Delivery. The entire pride will completely stay out of your way. That’s a promise.”
She turned again, and walk away, replying, “I’ll overcharge you.”
Daunte yelled back a, “Love you!” that earned him a growl.
Rygan wasn’t quite certain what had occurred, and apparently, he wasn’t the only one because Jas asked, “So, we have a place to stay?”
Daunte turned to her and winked.
“Yep. And more surprisingly, I still have my balls.”
Excerpt of Shy Girls Write it Better
Cassie felt like a James Bond Girl, minus the grace and the fake boobs, as her fingers flew on the keyboard, typing the super-secret words no one could ever see.
Hearing steps behind her, she minimized the document she was working on, opening up a spreadsheet as quickly as she could – given the antediluvian system she was working with, that could take a while. Thankfully, the incriminating window consented to disappear in time. It just wouldn’t do for one of her colleagues to glance over her shoulder and read the word cock.
It wasn’t her fault – not really. If her boss sent anything even remotely challenging her way, she wouldn’t feel bored to tears by eleven every morning. At the start of her employment at Harris Toys, she’d done her very best, always eagerly asking for more projects, but each time, Michelle Davis, her direct superior, just sent her on a coffee run or an equally boring task. There was nothing wrong with being treated like a secretary; when you were one.
Cassie was an accountant with a double major in business; after working her way through college and amassing more experience than your average thirty-year-old, she’d received a good dozen job offers right out of school.
She’d accepted Harris Toys’ offer because, come on, it was Harris Toys. Not only did the company specialize in really cool children’s toys, half of which were crafted for the use of kids with special needs, but it also generously gave to just about any cause that seemed worthy these days. That was the kind of company you could boast about at a high school reunion. But not when you were a glorified secretary-occasionally-doing-payroll.
As it became clear that Michelle refused to let her do her job, Cassie resorted to two equally underhanded behaviors. Firstly, she’d started to schedule her occasional trip to her boss’s desk when Michelle’s own superior was within ear shot, to make it clear that she wasn’t the slacker Michelle was trying to show she was.
She was all smiles as she said things such as, “Is there anything I can do for you, Michelle? I’m done with the last expense report.”
Because Cassie was shy – terminally so – people mistakenly believed they could walk all over her. Not happening.
Her second coping mechanism, when she had nothing else to do, consisted of plugging in her USB stick, opening up her last document, and writing the naughty books she’d never had the time to focus on until now.
After adhering to the routine for over seven months, she had three books under her belt and the hearing of your average German Shepherd, as catching approaching steps had become her biggest challenge in her cubicle.
Lifting her head to see who the newcomer could possibly be, she dropped it right back to her keyboard quicker than usual, hunching her back to disappear behind her screen.
Patrick Johnson, the CFO, Michelle’s boss, came down at least twice a week, so she’d gotten as used to him as she could – although Cassie would never feel comfortable with a man like him: tall, broad, with a killer smile and too much charisma. She preferred them to stay where they belonged: in fictitious romance.
Still, she could deal with Trick. He was one of the nice ones; he remembered her name and asked how she was until she felt comfortable enough to return the greeting.
The problem was that Trick hadn’t come alone today. Oh, no. He’d brought his best friend, the founder and CEO of Harris Toys, Carter Harris.
Given the fact that she was working for him, Cassie had seen him a few times; on her first day, for one, and maybe once or twice in the elevator. Okay, seven times. Yes, she’d been close to hyperventilating at each damn occasion.
Trick was an upgrade on the All American guy, light brown hair, with amber eyes and a ready smile, while Carter was his exact opposite. Dark wavy hair he styled like Superman and cold grey eyes always penetrating whatever they landed on. Everyone in the room held their breaths and not only because he was signing the paychecks. Well, not literally; Cassie was the one who signed them.
He was the kind of person who effortlessly dominated whatever space he entered.