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“Did you say you like me?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Yep.”
“Even though I have a boyfriend?—”
“You said he’s asort of boyfriend, which is girl code for someone who means less than your favorite ice cream—which is?” he asked, and I felt compelled to answer.
“Strawberry. But only if it’s Hagen Daas. Otherwise, my favorite ice cream is always chocolate. Wait. What?”
“Besides, you’re breaking up with him. Tomorrow, in fact,” Mitchell continued.
He clinked my glass again before taking another sexy sip and I stared, mouth hanging open. I must have been more desperate for male attention than I knew if I thought some man slurping beer was hot. Okay, he didn’t slurp. But what the fuck? I wasn’t some needy little coed looking for attention and this wasn’t a 90s movie, either.
God, he was so hot. Like the kind of hot I was only used to seeing on billboards in the city. He could be an underwear model easily. Of course, he was probably too big for the industry. And I meant that in a purely observatory sense. Werewolves, Shifters, were large in general.
I’d almost forgotten that. I mean, yeah, there were supes in New York City, but not many in corporate law from what I’d seen. The men in my current circles were thin, lean, average height. It had been a long time since I’d felt tiny around a man, if ever. But Mitchell did that to me. He made me feel petite, and his hungry gaze did wonders for my self-esteem. Even if the constant sniffing was a bit strange.
I didn’t mind my curvier than average frame. In fact, I was pretty fond of my ass, which some had compared to fabulous booty award winners such as J-Lo and a certain Kardashian, though mine was gainedau naturel. Likely from a lifelong romance with Ho-hos and other snack cakes.
Anyhoo…
“Why do you keep doing that?” I barked the question, wincing at how rude I sounded.
“Doing what?” he asked, one dark eyebrow raised.
“Tapping your bottle to my glass. It’s empty. I don’t have another drink,” I said.
He made me so frustrated. I felt inadequate and silly, and dammit, I did not like that. Of course, that part was all me. Mitch hadn’t done anything wrong. And if I was being honest with myself, he intrigued me more than anyone else of the opposite sex had done for a very long time.
“It’s for good luck, sweetheart. Can I get you a drink?”
“No,” I began, then shrugged.
Fuck it. It was my birthday, and I was entitled to live a little dangerously once in a while, right? I nodded.
“Yeah. Yes. I mean, sure, I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Be right back,” he said and winked.
Sizzles seemed to spark through me at that sexy little gesture, and I rubbed my arms. What was going on? I’d been freezing my butt off lately, but five seconds with Mr. Tall Dark and Scruffy and I was warming up all over. And I meant all over. This was dangerous territory, but I was in it now.
“Hello little Martina,” a lightly accented voice flitted towards me.
I turned my head to see a beautiful Sherry Morgan smiling widely with a handsome man,sniff, Werewolf, on her arm. That was a shocker. I didn’t know Sherry had settled down, and I was surprised it was with a Wolf. She’d been part of my childhood, a local White Witch who’d helped me and my sisters learn to control our powers. That she was the descendent of the first Morrigan, and now held the powerful title herself, was something I didn’t learn until I was much older.
“Sherry! I didn’t know you were here,” I said, and gave her an awkward side hug.
I was trying to avoid touching the male who had an arm firmly around her waist. I frowned. Possessive much?
“Seff, be a good boy and let go. You’re making my young friend here nervous,” she told her man.
The Wolf was handsome, I’d give him that. He grinned at her indulgently, whispered something in her ear before releasing her. He leaned close and kissed her temple before he turned to acknowledge me.
“Sorry, I can be a little protective of my Sherry. The name is Seff, Seff McAllister,” he said and offered me his hand.
I stared. My heart was pounding, and my Wolf whimpered deep inside of me. This man wasn’t just a Werewolf. He was the motherfucking Beta of the very powerful, scary as hell, Macconwood Wolf Pack.
“Easy, I mean you no harm,” he rumbled, and I saw his Wolf in his eyes. “You are upset, and my animal is protective. Please be at ease, Martina. I am a friend.”
