Page 9 of Brock’s Mate

He actually blushed.

It seemed that no one who worked here reacted to anything the way she expected them to. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad as far as her job prospects were concerned.

By the time Desi’s ribs arrived, the second round of Speed Dating was starting. Desi caught sight of the Asian woman again, this time arguing with a tall man with dark red hair, pointing at the speed dating tables and holding—were those handcuffs?

Whoa. She was really taking this Dirty Dating thing seriously.

The guy—clearly annoyed—stalked toward one of the tables and sat down. Desi wondered what that was about. Maybe bondage was too dirty for him?

The Speed Dating got underway. Despite the noise, Desi found that she could clearly hear what the couples at the nearest tables were saying. It was even more entertaining than she’d expected, since they had each apparently been given a set of utterly embarrassing questions as icebreakers.

Naturally, everyone was lying about their answers. She didn’t know how she could tell, but she could. They seemed to be having a great time, though, and the bar was cleaning up on drinks. No fights had even broken out.

Good management—that was a positive sign.

She found that her gaze kept straying back to the annoyed guy, as the table-swapping brought him nearer and nearer.

There was just… something about him. Partly because he was even hotter than the guys at the signup table, with his chestnut hair and chiseled features. He had on a forest-green t-shirt with a black flannel shirt over it, the sleeves rolled partway up to show his muscular forearms, and when he switched tables, he moved with an easy grace that spoke of natural confidence.

He seemed completely focused on each of his partners, listening attentively to what they were saying—but she had the feeling that half his mind was somewhere else. Although she had to give him props—he faked it well.

That was not a good sign. She always went for the guys who faked it well. That’s why they usually turned out to be disasters.

The minute she had the thought, he suddenly turned his head and looked straight into her eyes. His were green, or hazel maybe, and as they met hers, she felt a shock of recognition. Like she’d met him somewhere before, but she would swear she hadn’t.

She’d remember.

Desi felt a telltale shiver down in her gut. Dammit. Here we go again.

The little voice that had been in the back of her mind ever since she left Jered said, He is very sexy. Let’s bite him.

Well, he was definitely biteable, but… no. That little shiver had never started anything that ended well.

Desi turned back to her ribs, but she could feel him still watching her.

Chapter 4

Brock was a little drunker during the second round of speed dating, and a little more outrageous. Especially because the parade of women, with their scents and sounds and pheromones, were making him toy with the idea of dating one of them.

Maybe more than one of them.

A date wouldn’t be so bad, right? Because if he were honest with himself and less than sober, he fucking hated that everyone in his crew had someone but him. He ached for a gentle touch, a soft place to land—hell, he ached for a wild, growling, up-against-the-wall hot bang in the dark.

Except that was exactly the kind of thing that would send his wolf out of control.

So he had to make sure the women here all thought he was trouble—and make sure not to attract the kind of woman who wanted trouble. Or thought she did. No woman wanted the kind of trouble he would turn out to be.

And the needy ones—hell, no.

He suddenly felt a prickle on the back of his neck—the kind that said ‘danger.’ He tuned out his current partner, who was talking about something involving cucumbers and salad oil that he really didn’t want to visualize, and turned his head slowly until he saw her.

Their eyes met, and everything in the bar stopped. The sound went muted.

She was sitting at a corner table, a short thick glass in her hand, tall and rangy and somehow restless, even though she was sitting perfectly still. Her hair was blue with pink and purple highlights and her eyes were a deep brown—the color of the Dirty Dominatrix drink Jaeda had brought him—and coolly wary.

He knew he should look away, but there was something in her gaze that pulled him in and held him there.

For a moment he thought he saw a flash of gold in her eyes, but then it was gone.