Werewolves of New York (5 page)

S
tanding
in the hallway on the welcome mat pushing light-brown shoulder-length hair from a frowning forehead, was the woman he’d run from just yesterday. That she’d be standing here with confused blue eyes flitting from him wearing only a blanket to Lana, was about the last thing Eli had seen coming. She looked pretty freakin’ cute, too, with her face all screwed up like that as it quickly dawned on her what she’d walked into. In his fantasies, she’d been more sultry and dressed like a stripper, but the All-American charm she was sporting was even more appealing.

Lana slammed one hand onto her jutted hip, still holding the door. Rose checked her out, raking a discerning glance from the heels upward. Where Lana was dressed for a night on the town, Rose wore faded, ripped-up blue jeans, a short brown coat over a deep blue sweater, and bright red sneakers.

He grinned, “Rose!” trying to act normal. “Come in. Lana was just leaving.”

Lana’s jaw dropped. “You are unbelievable! Who is this?”

Closing the blanket tighter he took a few steps closer and locked eyes with Lana, his voice low. “This is Michelle’s best friend. She obviously came over to see her, see how she’s dressed all casual and buddy-buddy? She’s not here to see me.”

“The last person I expected to see here was him,” Rose agreed, waving her hand in front of her like there was no way in hell she’d planned this. Lana stared from one to the other trying to decide if she believed them. Rose threw a look to Eli and made a face. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not attracted to Eli.”

He blinked, surprised, and his spine straightened like a shot.

Lana peered at him through gleeful eyes. “Ha!” She said it like it was the punctuation to their argument. “Well, then you’ve just saved yourself a lot of grief, Michelle’s best friend. Excuse me.” She walked past Rose into the hallway and without looking back shouted, “Eli Jackson, you think about what I told you!”

He inhaled patience and crossed to the door, pulled Rose in by her arm and shut it. He let her go and headed for the couch where he plopped down with his bare legs jutting from the blanket. With both feet planted to ground him, he shook his head. “Just stay here with me a minute so I can remember what it’s like to be in a sane woman’s company.”

She crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”

He chuckled, “No way.”

Rose set down her bag and looked at him, then around the room. From under his brow he watched, but wasn’t able to read her expression. She crossed directly to a slender table by the window and touched a square, clean space outlined by a thin layer of dust. “She took our photo with her.” Her smile was small, her voice quiet. Biting her lip, Rose asked, “So, are you just here for the night?”

Was that hope he heard?

He shook his head. “No. I moved out of our old place so they could have it.”

Rose’s eyes clouded over and she stared at the floor. “I see.” Running both hands through her hair, she walked around the room taking in the fact that everything was still as it had been. “And when was this?”

“Tonight’s the first night,” he replied slowly. “I just brought a few things for now. Just a suitcase. The rest will come later. She didn’t tell you?”

Rose shook her head, mumbling, “Nope.” He could see she was in pain even though she tried to act like she didn’t care.

Hoping it would help, he offered, “It was a quick decision. Nathaniel and I decided it last night. I suggested it since it was complicated having me around…and then he sprung it on her probably today after her big meeting.” Rose’s eyebrows went up and he realized she didn’t know about that either. “It’s been crazy with all the changes. Both of them are forgetting everything,” he lied. “I’m sure she was going to call you and the move just happened too fast.” He forced a laugh. “All her stuff is still here except for some clothes. We’re going to go through everything…” he trailed off, feeling like an idiot.

Rose nodded, sucking on her teeth. “Mmhmm.” Anger flashed over her. She had no idea how sexy she was when she got that look in her eyes. Eli watched her lips as she licked them. “I’ve called her and called her, and the phone just goes to voicemail now, so not only is she not returning my calls, she doesn’t even want to hear them ring. Can a guy change you that much so fast?” Knowing the question wasn’t really meant for him he didn’t offer an answer. He was too busy trying to ignore the sweet smell of vanilla, shampoo and Rose that now drifted around the room, spreading out as she walked. He stretched his shoulders and tried not to inhale.

Unaware of the effect she was having on him, she walked right next to him, standing between the couch and coffee table as she eyed the stack of INC. Magazines. Picking one up, she was close enough that he could see her pores in her profile. See how her nose sloped gently. How her lips had no lipstick on them…just soft pink flesh he could nibble on to find out how she tasted. Just like it had yesterday, his cock filled up and he shook his head and stared down in its direction willing it to deflate. Worst timing ever.

“Well at least she took our picture,” she whispered as she thumbed through the pages, not really reading the words. Suddenly, she dropped the magazine with a thump and rested her hands on her hips, taking a last look around. She turned and her jeans zipper was within biting distance if he just leaned forward and... “But she left pretty much everything else. I guess
he’s
got everything she needs now.” She glanced to Eli, narrowing her eyes like she’d just thought of something. “Hey…why didn’t you go after your girlfriend?”

He was so focused on her every movement that at first he didn’t know who she was talking about. Then his eyes widened and with more energy than he needed to use he announced, “Oh, Lana’s not my girlfriend.”

Rose frowned. “Then why is she so pissed?”

“Because she’s not my girlfriend.”

Rose’s bright blue eyes transformed instantly to judgmental ice. “I see.”

They stared at each other and he leaned back and scratched his head with both hands, resting one foot on the coffee table to make a tent. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Look at you like what?” She feigned innocence and walked to stand against the wall by the T.V.

He exhaled, the distance abating his wolf’s thrashings. He needed her far away, or very, very close. “You want to take off your coat?”

“No.”

He chuckled uncomfortably. “Okay.”

“Don’t look at you like
what?”
she asked again, crossing her arms and making her coat bunch up. As she waited for his reply he got a really good idea of how she looked in the forbidding courtrooms. He wanted to bend her over and fuck that look right off her face.

He felt the anger rush into his preternatural veins and he held her steady gaze without fear. “Like how you’re looking at me right now. Like I’m an asshole who thinks everyone is begging to be my girlfriend.” He leaned forward. “Well, I’m not an asshole and I don’t think that. But that’s what our argument was about, so I’m pretty sure I’m not an egotistical dickhead when I say that the facts are this, Ms. Lawyer. Lana just told me she wanted to stay over for the very first time. She also told me point blank that she wants more from this than I’ve been giving her.
I
told her I don’t want that. She got pissed.” Throwing up his arms, he said, “I’m not bragging and this doesn’t make me feel like a hotshot. If you want to know how it makes me feel, I’m annoyed, that’s all. She’s a great girl but we had a casual thing and that’s all I ever wanted. I never made that a secret and up until tonight, she said she wanted the same.” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis and spread his arms out, biceps up. “Am I innocent or guilty?”

He was relieved to see the condescending look vanish as she softened. She shrugged a shoulder and her eyelashes fell to the ground. “Sorry.”

More than a little surprised, he stared at her. “It’s okay.”

The unfamiliar room was filled with their silence. He realized she was just hurt about Michelle, and she looked small suddenly. Her intelligence and strength made her seem taller just moments ago but now all he wanted to do was cradle her in his arms and tell her he would have called, if it were him.

Finally, she looked up and crinkled her forehead. “You want to go get a drink?”

He threw the blanket off, stood up, said, “Fuck yes,” and headed for the bedroom to put some clothes on.

To put some clothes on. Uh-oh.

With bare feet slapping the fake wood floor and his half-hard cock bouncing back and forth against his thighs, he suddenly realized what he’d just done. “Uh…” Slowly he covered his cock with his hands and turned around. “I didn’t mean to uh...”

She stared at him with her fingers spread in surprise. “Um…yeah. Okay.”

“I’ll just get dressed.”

“Great.”

He went to turn around, but remembered Lana. “Do you mind if I take a five-minute shower?”

She shrugged. “Nope.”

“Thanks.” He turned and walked into Michelle’s old bedroom as casually as he could. Shutting the door, he stared into the bedroom and grinned. Rose had either lied to Lana or changed her mind when she saw him naked. The sweet, unmistakable scent of her arousal as they tried to get out of an awkward situation, was proof she found him attractive. And he was too happy about it to realize he was really,
really
happy about it.

He called through the door. “So, when you say let’s get a drink, you mean as friends, right?”

She gave a nervous laugh and called back, “Yep! You’re safe.” He listened hard and focused on her heartbeat. It was beating fast.

“Good,” he said with forced seriousness. “So are you.” Chuckling to himself, he strolled to the bathroom.

A
s Rose stared
at the closed bedroom door, stunned, she could feel her body whirring with pleasure at having seen one of the biggest cocks of her life, on the sexiest body ever. His curly pubic hair was surprisingly dark auburn and his chest had a healthy amount of the same colored soft hair. He was beefy and packed with muscle and when he’d turned around covering himself, his pecs were fantastic, clenching with his biceps and forearms. The shock on his face, it was fucking adorable.
Thank God I was able to hide my reaction,
she thought as the secret place between her thighs still throbbed.

She began to pace.

The speech he’d given her had turned her on as it was, the way the fire of his anger and self-preservation darkened his warm brown eyes. She’d felt stunned by his masculinity as he’d leaned forward and directed all that heat at her. She wished the attorneys in the courts would argue their points like he just had. Despite her attraction to him, she’d asked him for a drink just so she didn’t have to go home and sit around, pissed at her best friend Michelle, wondering what to do about her.

But then he exploded from that blanket!

She stopped in the middle of the living room and stared at the bedroom door, her nipples so sharp they hurt against her bra. She ran her hands over her sweater and walked to hold her ear to the white-painted wood, listening to the muffled running shower. She closed her eyes and pictured him all wet and naked in there, soaping himself up. The bubbles slipping into nooks and crannies just like her fingers wanted to.

Jumping away from the door, she paced again. “Okay, okay, okay, okay…do not go into that shower. Don’t do it!”

She froze, staring at the floor, helpless. Running back she listened again. Imagining him sliding her ex-best friend’s body wash all over those calves, those cute toes, those fucking shoulders of his, she thought she might pass out. She rested her hand ever so slowly and quietly on the doorknob.
I could just walk in, tear off my clothes, pull back that shower curtain?
She pulled the knob to the left until she heard the water suddenly shut off. Jumping away from the door, she hurried on tiptoes to take her old position against the wall.

“Almost done! Just gotta throw something on,” he called out.

“Okay! Take your time,” she called back, foot tapping. Pulling her keys from her jacket pocket, she fiddled with them for something to do, looking down and reading the fine print on her yoga pass. The door opened and she casually looked up and smiled. Her eyes flickered as he walked into the room wearing blue jeans that hugged him in all the right places, a burgundy graphic t-shirt that read, “Born To Ride,” and red converse sneakers. He rubbed his head with one hand and pointed at his shoes with the other. “I have red sneakers, too.”

She smiled. “I see that.”

He grabbed a black jacket from where he’d left it on the back of the couch and held her eyes as he walked to the coffee table. With a graceful motion, he dipped down to get his keys. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and he hadn’t looked away from her either.

He stood tossing his keys from hand to hand, and his dimple flashed. “And I’ve got keys, too. Only I think these actually lock the door.”

She laughed and stuck her set back in her pocket. “I was just…”

“Were you thinking of leaving or something?”

She shook her head, surprised. “No! I was just fiddling with them, I guess.”

“Ah,” His smile changed and he looked at her in a way that made her knees feel wobbly. “Ready to go?”

She pushed off the wall and headed for the door, running a hand through her hair as she tried to compose herself. Her body felt like it was on fire and all she wanted to do was wrap her legs around him. She’d never had such a primal reaction to anyone before. She literally ached to touch him. How she was going to sit next to him in a bar she had no idea.

“Forget this?” he asked with a laugh in his voice.

She glanced behind to see him holding her purse. “I think maybe I should go home,” she mumbled as she crossed to take it from him.

“Oh no you don’t. You can’t go home and mope about your friend all alone. I’ll mope with you. Let’s go.” He followed her out into the hallway and she watched his profile as he concentrated on an unfamiliar lock. It snapped into place and he said, proudly, “There!” and turned to face her. They were a couple feet away from each other now and he towered above her. His nostrils flared and he blinked, his brown eyes sharpening on her. He reached out and ran his finger down the line creasing her brow. “What’s this for?”

She swallowed, eyelashes fluttering. “I didn’t know it was there.”

A smile brought back his dimple and made his eyes sparkle so much they didn’t seem real. If she weren’t so shell-shocked, she would have sworn they glowed.

“Well, get rid of it.”

Hypnotized, she nodded. “Okay.”

He took her hand and led her down the hallway. Neither of them spoke. She felt his strong fingers move to lace with hers, tightening his already firm grip. Stealing a glance at him, she wondered what the hell was going on. From the look on his face, he was wondering the same thing.

The hostess let them into the speakeasy bar, hidden in the depths of an innocuous building. The slender room was made all the more cave-like by scant, dark lighting, a cherry wood ceiling, deep red brick walls and few people. Rose glanced around the room. “I’ve never been here.”

“Not many know about it,” he answered simply, leading her to the bar. It was the first word he’d said to her since they’d left Michelle’s. Or should she call it his place now? That felt crazy strange to her.

“Oh.” They mounted yellow bar stools and he turned his to face her. She did the same. A wall had erected inside him. The intensity she’d felt earlier was lessened. A little relieved, she picked up the menu and scanned names of cocktails like Fall Leaves and Harvest Moon, wondering what she should get. “Ooooh, Cranberry cream. I’ll have that.”

Eli nodded to the male bartender who’d heard the order, and added his own. “An Old Fashioned.”

“You got it.” The bartender dropped two black napkins in front of them and left.

She hadn’t minded the silence, it seemed right as they walked hand in hand. It was as if he was being led by something, and was taking her along, like in a dream. But now that she gazed at him, Rose wanted to ask Eli questions about himself. Only she didn’t want to look like she cared. It was an awkward tightrope, but since she’d seen Lana and her anger, she knew to tread carefully or flat out run. He hadn’t let her do that, so now she juggled her options and glanced away. The wall behind the bar was mirrored and she could see Eli watching her in it. She started, but held his look, the same as he’d given her outside Michelle’s door, sharp and hyper-aware. Like he could see things in her she didn’t know.

She felt her heart race and her mouth go dry. She asked the bartender, “Can I have some water, too, please?” He was standing a bit away, muddling a cherry with sugar and Bitters in Eli’s glass. He looked up and nodded, but went back to making the drink. “No, I mean now,” Rose said, without pause. He poured her one and brought it over. “Thanks.” She sucked it up all at once without coming up for air.

Eli watched her from the corner of his eyes. “I bet you’re a very good lawyer aren’t you, Rose?”

She nodded and set down the glass, straightening up. “Mmhmm. Very good. Why?”

He smiled, but his eyes were intelligent and serious. “Because you’re strong.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “And you’re not scared.”

She waited until he met her eyes again. “Who says I’m not?”

“I do.” He turned to the bartender as their drinks were set on the napkins. Eli held up his glass for a toast, his voice at a volume meant just for her. “To life.”

“L’Chaim,” she smiled.

His eyebrows rose up. “What does that mean?”

She smiled. “To life, in Hebrew. I’m not Jewish, but some friends at my firm are. They always say it when we go out after work, which is rare.” She rolled her eyes, thinking again how much she needed a vacation. On a shrug, she told him, “I love the way it sounds.”

He tapped his glass to hers in a way that felt sensual. “L’Chaim then.”

“Mmm, that’s good,” she smiled, setting down her glass. “So, when you say I’m not scared…you don’t know me, Eli. I bet you don’t even know my last name.”

He chuckled and set his glass down. “Hendricks. I looked you up.”

“When did you look me up?” she laughed, surprised.

He rested his weight on his elbow and answered, “And I can see more than you think. I’m pretty perceptive when I’m interested.”

A warm feeling drifted through her body. “And what did you perceive, Eli Jackson?”

He smirked, leaned in close and made love to her neck’s soft skin with the heat of his whispering breath. “Most women would have waited until he’d finished making those drinks, for their water…but not you. Most women wouldn’t hold my looks the way you do every time I stare at you. Looking someone in the eye isn’t an easy feat. But you? You don’t shrink back from me at all. And when I left yesterday on the street? You didn’t look back to see why I rushed into that cab. You just walked off like you didn’t give a shit.”

Her blood throbbed in her head as he leaned back and picked up his glass. When he met her eyes, she smiled, “I didn’t give a shit.”

As he studied her, his face darkened. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered with a fading smile. He turned away, picking up his glass and staring off. Thrown, she looked in the mirror behind the bar to discover him not watching her this time. He was miles away and she wanted him back. “I’m sorry. I was…teasing.”

He gave a short shake of his head. “No. You were playing a game. Don’t do that with me. I’ll know. I don’t want games with you.”

She felt like she’d just been slapped hard. He hadn’t said it cruelly, but the truth hit home so hard. She secretly hated games but it was necessary in this day and age. And hell, maybe every age before now as well, wasn’t it? Saying what you want means you don’t get it, right?

Right?

She stared off into all the past men she’d dated, how none of them had worked out. Picking up her Cranberry Cream, she sipped it slowly wondering if she was like he said she was, fearless. She wasn’t, not by any stretch, but being brave means doing something even when you were afraid to do it. She had a feeling about Eli, one that didn’t come along every day. It was either go for it, or regret not doing so, with the outcome unpredictable. At least if she took her chance, she could look herself in the face, stand tall and maybe even give her reflection in her bathroom mirror a wink. Now wouldn’t that be fun? It was worth the risk.

She got up from the chair and grabbed her bag, standing behind him. “Let’s get out of here.”

Taken aback, he turned to face her. “Where do you want to go?”

“Back to Michelle’s. We’re taking a shower together.” She headed for the door without waiting for an answer.

He called over the bartender to settle the check as she opened the door and walked into the chilly night air. At midnight the East Village is relatively busy any night of the week. Tonight was no exception. There were people walking their dogs, others smoking and chatting, and even some skateboarders doing tricks off a building a couple doors over.

She picked up her pace, done with playing games. If he wanted honesty, she’d give it to him.