Page 54 of Seduced By the Werewolves

“Ms. Dockett.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “You’ve been enjoying yourself tonight, have you?” His gaze travels around the table at Leon, then Quinn, then Jace.

“S-sure,” I say tentatively. “It’s a nice place, and the food is good.”

“You certainly have some interesting company.” A cruel grin is slowly spreading across his face, like a hawk staring down a rat. He laughs. “I’m honestly surprised to find you’re that greedy. No wonder you’re so sloppy at work.”

My breath is coming shorter and faster, but I can’t seem to compel my mouth to open. I’m frozen as Mr. Bosley cocks his head to the side. The pleasure he’s getting out of my shame is clearly monumental.

“Who knew my shy little assistant had such an active social life?”

I could simply keel over right here and that would be better. My throat tightens, and my cheeks ache from where a heavy stream of tears is building up behind my eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” Leon says, rising from his chair. Mr. Bosley shrinks back as Leon reaches his full height. I forget sometimes just how tall they are, how broad and, in the wrong light, menacing.

“I’m Ms. Dockett’s employer,” my boss says firmly, though his body language is anything but confident in the face of someone Leon’s size. Jace’s eyes widen, and his eyes snap over to me. I’m struggling to breathe just sitting here. Jace snakes his hand into mine and squeezes it.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, employer.” Jace can barely disguise the distaste in his voice.

Leon takes a step toward Mr. Bosley, who responds by taking one backward.

“I’m going to politely ask you to leave now,” Leon says, anything but polite, “and if I don’t see your backside in three, two…”

Mr. Bosley nods rapidly, his eyes flicking from Leon to me, as if I’ll step in and save him. But Jace’s hand in mine steadies me. Quinn’s on his feet now, too, and walking around the table so Mr. Bosley is now standing off against both of them.

“This is the fucker?” Quinn says, curling one hand into a fist. “This is the guy you’ve been complaining about?” I reach out and grab his arm.

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Please.”

Quinn’s hand loosens in mine, but he doesn’t take his eyes off my boss.

“I’ll be going, then.” Mr. Bosley’s eyes are huge as all three of them bear down on him. He shoots me a quick scowl. “See you at work, Ms. Dockett.”

Then he turns around and scurries out the door.

As hard as I’ve tried to hold them back, the tears break free the moment he’s gone, and I stumble into my chair at the table as they pour down my face. Leon, Jace, and Quinn all rush to my side. Quinn leans in to wipe some tears from my face, but I jerk back at his touch. Everyone in this restaurant must be staring at me, thinking the same thing as Mr. Bosley.

I suddenly get up from my chair. I shouldn’t be here. This is all too much.

“Tiff?” Leon asks. More and more people are staring at us as I cry harder, my breaths coming so fast that my head is starting to feel light and heavy at the same time. Leon grabs my hand in his and pulls me toward the exit. “Tiff. Come with me.” His voice drops to that familiar, commanding tone. “Right now.”

I have nothing to hold on to except him, except those confident words, so I cling onto them and him as he guides me out of the restaurant and into the cool night air. I’m gasping, struggling just to get air into my lungs. I stumble, but Leon’s holding me up.

“Please, love. Try to take longer breaths.” He imitates what he wants, inhaling deep and then waiting to exhale again. “I’m right here. Quinn and Jace are right here.”

But that only makes the tears run faster. It’s humiliating, all of it, in every possible way. Mr. Bosley surely thinks I’m a slut, and for fuck’s sake, is he wrong? After what Eli caught Quinn and me doing, just a few hours ago?

That’s why I scared off Eli. I’m sure of it. He hates me now, for the same reason Mr. Bosley does.

“Tiff.” Leon brings me into the soft curve of his arm. “It’s all right. Nobody’s watching.”

I close my eyes and let Leon’s voice seep into me. I imitate his slow breathing, trying desperately to get my throat to open again. His hand runs in soothing circles up and down my back, and the intoxicating smell of him is so close, I finally feel my contracting diaphragm start to release.

“There we are.” He draws me in to his chest, still stroking me.

Quinn gently pats my hair. “Fuck,” he mutters. “That asshole.”

Now that I can almost bring oxygen into my body, all I want is to lie down and cry some more about what tomorrow at the office will be like, now that Mr. Bosley’s caught me.

I’ll never, ever live this down.

---