Chapter 6 – A little less conversation

SELENE

I had to hand it to Rocco and his sweet Scandinavian counterpart, they knew how to run an event. Very professional, who knew a pair of burly, muscular sex gods could do good business too? I keep drinking my vodka cocktails despite knowing they won’t get me drunk. It takes an extraordinary amount of alcohol to get a shifter inebriated but it was better to play along.

I watched Jax gamble away her thousand immediately, the utter randomness of the roulette wheel her swift undoing. I managed to persuade her not to withdraw her life savings at least. It took everything I had not to let me eyes rest on Rocco. That dark hair and olive skin looked too good to be true. Tall, dark, handsome and a voice so sensually rich it made my hair stand on end.

"You're no fun sometimes Selene," she grumbled, folding her arms in protest.

"I know," I sighed, switching my mind back to the party and not my panties, "but I can't be bothered to pick you up for work if you gamble your car away."

Instead we shared some more drinks, watched the other gamblers, cheering as some from our department scored some big wins.

Greg and some of the other male managers seemed to be on a bit of an ego trip. They took that scotch display as a mission statement. By the time the fleet of taxis I had organised started to roll up in fifteen-minute slots the party was coming to a natural close. 

Half the men were in scotch-coma's and the others were bouncing into their taxis like lottery winners. I decided to let Greg have a little sleep, he could get the last taxi and then I’d head back with Jax.

It meant that I found myself, at the bar watching Rocco on my own. I could have sat anywhere else, but it was as though a magnet drew me in. I didn’t want to resist anymore. He moved silently like an assassin around the stacks of bottles, glasses, and accessories. His eyes kept meeting mine and I found my gaze lingering longer each time.

“I am sorry if I have been hard work,” I said eventually, lowering my eyes to the glass and wood bar.

“No problem, you have a lot on your plate organising everything…Miss Wilding,” he said a smirk.

“It’s Selene,” I replied blushing, remembering how I’d cut him off. My self-defence had kicked in, him being so hot he'd sent my stomach fluttering 

I lifted my head and looked at that handsome face some more, trying to stop my eyes silently betraying my attraction. “So, where are you from then? I'm from Silverlake”

“Blackfoot originally but I’ve lived in the city for the past ten years,” he said briskly, continuing to dry glasses and avoid my eyes.

“Do you go back?”

“Not if I can help it,” I replied a bit too quickly.

His eyes shot to mine, a glimmer of understanding between the barricades. “Same here," he murmured. I longed to ask why, but then I would have to answer the same question.

“Why do you work in this end of the city?” he ventured.

“Same reason as you I assume,” I answered vaguely. As his lovely dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion I elaborated, leaning in towards him to keep my reply low and discrete. His gaze briefly flicked downwards where the jacket buttons strained under my leaning pose. “I don’t mix with my own kind if I can help it.”

He placed the towel underneath the bar, and leaned onto the glass and wood countertop, matching me, crossing his strong, muscular arms across his chest.. It brought his face closer to mine, speaking in a hushed, yet still richly deep voice he said “I avoid it at all costs too.”

“It’s never a good idea,” I agreed after what felt like an eternity, though it sounded less convincing than when I told myself it earlier. Instead I found myself inhaling deeply, taking in that cologne of his mixed with his natural earthy scent like a shot of adrenalin.

The way he was looking at me made me wonder how true his declaration was. Would he really not want to ‘mix’ if I let down my guard? 

If I told him I was only a minute away from asking him to take me somewhere private and rip this jacket straight off me? He could take the skirt too to be honest I'd be fine with that.

His face was only inches from mine, each trying to work out where we stood. Heat and desire raced up and down my body in waves as his proximity made my skin tingle. Even his name, Rocco, was ridiculous, yet it rolled around my mind like a roulette ball. All my mind could do was think of what it would feel like to just let go and pull him by that crisp white shirt for a kiss.

His pupils widened, his deeply dark coffee-eyes shimmered with a hint of gold. Someone’s wolf wanted to come out. Without thinking my arms shifted, pushing my cleavage a little bit more. Against my better judgement I knew my eyes would be kicking out a kaleidoscope of colours but then my wolf was a horny little devil at the best of times.

"Do you want to get…" I started, intending to suggest a drink, but actually meaning fuck me senseless. Thankfully there was an interruption.

“Selene, come and help me!” screeched Jax and in that second, I snapped back to reality, standing up and smoothing down my jacket and hair as if the blush that covered my face could be wiped away. 

We were only talking i told myself, but it felt as though anything could have happened. Like something should have happened.

Greg had woken up, waving his arm flaccidly towards me, still clearly drunk, “Selene! Finally!” he shouted. I smiled politely as I sat down at the other side of the booth. Jax suggested getting him some water and trotted down to the bar out of sight.

“How are you feeling, boss?” I laughed, watching as he tried to adjust to waking up, straightening himself out of his slump.

“A lot better now you’re sat here. You need to wear that jacket to everything. Fucking knockout.”

“Ah, thanks,” I said, wondering if the taxi was outside yet, “you think you can get outside and wait for a taxi with me?”

His eyes lit up like Christmas Day, shit, he thought I meant I was getting into the taxi with him. 

Nope, not a chance, just going to wait with him. “You know what,” he replied with a wide smile, “I think I can definitely do that, let’s get out of here.”

As I offered my hand to help him stand up he lurched towards me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, grabbing me so tightly to him my breath hitched. He needed the support and I wanted him out of my hair as quickly as possible, so reluctantly, we walked through the casino together with him draped on me. 

A few hours ago I would have loved the feel of his hand on my bare skin, now I was freaking out that he was going to be sick.

Stood outside in the fresh air he seemed to sharpen up. He released my waist and stood up properly, rubbing his eyes with his hands as we waited in the chill of the late night for a cab.

“Selene, you know you’re heading for good things at Godiva, don’t you?”

“I hope so, I love my job, but we can talk about that at work. Have you enjoyed your birthday?” I found myself looking past him up the road for a taxi, my body wanting me anywhere but here.

“I have, I don’t think I got a birthday kiss from you though,” he said, his hand lifting to twist one of my blonde curls through his fingers. Just because my head had been severely turned tonight by Rocco didn’t take away the fact I was attracted to Greg. I had spent months imagining this scenario. 

His eyes seemed to linger on my cleavage, neck, lips and finally my eyes as he sized me up like a menu. His breath reeked of scotch, and I shivered in the cold. Tonight was not the night for any workplace fantasies to come alive.

Thankfully before I had to make an awkward reply, a cab turned into view.

“Taxi Greg! I’m taking Jax home, so I’ll see you Monday - thanks for a great time!”

As I quickly shut the door on him, I trotted down the steps back into the casino. My pulse racing and imagination bubbling with images of debauched naked naughtiness. Rocco wasn’t going to know what hit him. 

Without a second thought I had callously dumped my boss in a cab and scurried back down the stairs like some giddy teen dreamer. He was was drunk to remember, I tell myself. My wolf desires were pulsing me forward, like an inescapable whirlpool. My view was tunnelling, nothing else mattered.

Except for the other massive cliché I ran into. 

Jax and Rocco having a very close conversation together at the bar, exactly where I had been sat fifteen minutes earlier. Nice. He stood up on seeing me re-enter the room and at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. She was oblivious and instead came running up to me, wittering about cabs and the late hour.

Jax headed outside first, insisting she sneak a final cigarette before the cab ride home. As I stood in the foyer, cursing my foolishness, Rocco appeared with my long coat and silently assisted me in putting it on. The tension between us returned and was undeniable but now it irritated rather than tantalised me.

Maintaining an icy silence, partly fuelled by my own humiliation I prepared to head upstairs to the exit without a second glance. Screw him and his cheap games.

 As I took the first steps his hand landed upon mine on the handrail causing me to stop in my tracks. A lightning bolt of desire fizzled down to my toes, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. 

I quickly turned and looked into his eyes, knowing my glance was ice cold. Less confident than before, those coffee-coloured pools of his looked wounded but I wasn’t falling for any routine he had now.

“Look, I enjoyed talking, sparring whatever you want to call it with you,” he said.

“I’ll pass on the message to Jax too,” I said coldly, lifting his hand from mine and running up the steps, bolting into the waiting taxi and grabbing a yelping Jax in with me before he could say another word.

This sickly, horrible feeling. This is exactly why I don’t mix with shifters. Clever, sleazy, alpha-male ego-driven bastards.