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)
Damn, my cock’s so hard it’s going to break off.
“Does tomorrow night work for you?” I demand belatedly. I’ve already sent the text.
Surprise registers on her face. “Uh…yeah. I mean, if that works for Madi.” I catch the sadness to her scent again, and my hard-on droops.
I rub my forehead, contemplating the problem. I am an extremely good fixer. It’s how I made myself indispensable to Brick early on. Give me a situation, and I will strategize the hell out of it. And I’m not afraid to make the hard or dangerous decisions. To put myself at risk to achieve the desired result.
What’s bizarre is that I’m analyzing an emotional problem. A human female’s emotional problem.
It’s definitely a first for me.
The server arrives at our table to deliver the platters of sushi and take our number away.
I have to admit the food looks good, but I’m still gnawing on Aubrey’s situation.
“You miss Madi,” I say out loud.
Her chopsticks pause halfway to her mouth, and those purple-mauve lips part.
I get an even bigger blast of her sadness, which does something strange to my chest.
“I…” There’s a flash of vulnerability on her face that simultaneously gashes my chest open and makes me wish I hadn’t asked. I don’t like to see her made vulnerable.
Not this way.
Only naked and tied with my rope.
She shrugs. “I mean, yeah. We didn’t see each other all that much when we lived together, but it was fun. And we used to talk on the phone more. But…she’s even busier with Torrent than she was with Moon Co., and the rest of her time is apparently spent in bed with Brick.” She flashes a forced smile, attempting to lift the mood.
I pick up a roll with my chopsticks and pop it in my mouth. “Yes it is,” I agree, chewing.
Aubrey was right–the food is delicious. Not that I’m going to tell her that.
“They’re disgusting.”
Aubrey’s light laugh is genuine, and my wolf relaxes a bit.
We eat in silence. Apparently, Aubrey is starving because she inhales the food. I let her eat until she slows and then move in to kill the rest.
“So a coed party. No groom shower. Anything else?”
“You’ll have to get Brick to the ceremony on time and hold the rings. And you’ll make a toast at the reception.”
“Pass,” I say immediately.
“It’s required.” Aubrey makes her voice hard. I can’t decide if she’s fucking with me again or not.
“Are you doing one?”
“Yep. I’m going to talk about how hard everyone worked to keep them apart, and yet, they persevered.” She gives me a pointed stink-eye.
I wipe my mouth with a paper napkin and sit back. “And I’ll describe the half a million dollars I pledged to try to get them back together but was completely shut out by her so-called Maid of Honor.”
Her eyes narrow. “You think you can solve everything with money, don’t you?”
I hesitate because, honestly? Yeah. Most problems in my life can be solved with money. But this is the female who wore an “Eat the Rich” t-shirt as a teen. I know because I stole the photo to prove it.
“I think money is a leverage point for a lot of people. Not all. Not you, as I learned.”
The defensiveness ebbs from her shoulders. People like to be seen.
I don’t know why I want to see more of this particular person. She both fascinates and disgusts me. She embodies nothing that I value. And yet, I want to throw the doors to her closet open wide and examine what’s inside. Look under the bed and find her darkest, dirtiest secrets. Know what makes a money-hating artist want to study something like Women’s Studies and work in a hippie cafe.
“What are your leverage points, Aubrey?” My voice is soft, and saying her name in that tone sounds too familiar. Too intimate.
Aubrey's face takes on a rosy glow.
She stands. “You’ll never know, Suit.” She tosses her napkin on the table. “Thanks for dinner. It’s been illuminating.”
My brain stutters on the word illuminating. What does she think she learned about me?
Nothing. I’ve shown nothing. I never show anything. That’s how I can be ruthless.
“My place. Tomorrow night.”
Her nose wrinkles, but I would swear that I catch the faint scent of female arousal. As if my demanding words conjured up some scenario other than meeting with our engaged friends.
My wolf fucking loves it.
“I suppose you live on Billionaire Row?” She cocks a hip.
“Same building as Brick and Madi. Apartment 44. Seven p.m.”
“Did Brick even respond?”
“I’ll make sure they’re there. You just show up.”
Her eyes narrow as she considers me for a moment, then she holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
My dick twitches. I like it when she demands. I imagine her in that catsuit again. Crotchless, of course, so my tongue can reach the places it needs to reach.