Page 31 of Degrees of Control

With a final malevolent wink, Westwood disappeared, hopefully to take his Chinese food down into the depths of hell where he so clearly belonged.

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow at him. “So…”

James’ gut coiled. He wasn’t going to be asked to explain Westwood’s parting sentence, was he? She might take the news that he liked sloppy seconds to the point of calling it ‘The Stamp of Approval’ badly. As would anyone. “So what?”

“You work with that guy?”

“’Fraid so.”

“He seems like…” Charlotte tapped her chopsticks against her lips. “A complete knob.”

Her response was such a relief that James laughed aloud, a sound almost completely foreign to his ears. “He’s our top sales guy, he’s pretty much bulletproof.”

“Figures. Comes with the territory, doesn’t it, cowboy?”

James scowled. “I am not a cowboy. I have an accent. One that you told me was sexy.”

“Yeah, when I was trying to get into your pants.” She gave him a big cheesy smile. “Mission accomplished.”

James chuckled, then remembered Westwood’s proposal. “You don’t actually want to go out Friday, do you?”

A crease appeared between Charlotte’s eyebrows, and James realized he sounded like a complete dick. “I mean, you can come along if you want to but I don’t know if I’m gonna go, I have a lot of other stuff on this weekend.”

Charlotte’s blue eyes were unreadable. “I don’t expect you to take me anywhere, James. Besides, I’m broke.”

He snorted. “I’d pay.”

“That wouldn’t be very casual of you.”

“Maybe not, but I’d fuckin’ take you out if you wanted to go out.”

Her blue eyes widened and James wanted to groan. This was like a fucked-up dance, she took one step back and he dragged her two steps forward. Why was he doing this?

Charlotte placed her chopsticks across her empty bowl. “James, it’s fine. I’m not looking for a social hookup and your friend isn’t exactly someone I want to see more of.”

Silence stretched between them, long and uncomfortable. Finally Charlotte stood. “I’m going to walk to the bus stop. Thanks for bringing me here.”

She pulled out her wallet and began rummaging through its shiny black folds.

Wouldn’t be leather, though, not for Miss Charlotte. Fairy princesses don’t hurt animals or drive big cars or let assholes like me pay for their dinner.

He gestured for the hostess, who appeared at his side like a genie. “Put everything on my account.”

The hostess smiled. “Will do, Mr. Hunter.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, thanks for dinner.”

She came around to his side of the table and kissed his cheek, her mouth as soft as a brush from a butterfly’s wing. Something inside him went very still and as she turned away, he seized her wrist. “Wait.”

Even after everything that had happened, Charlotte’s eyes still lit up with that nervous, submissive glow. James stood and pulled her into his arms. Then, before he could think or hesitate, he kissed her. It was firm and fast but he knew everyone in the restaurant had seen it and found he didn’t care.

“Come home with me.” He was surprised by how calm he sounded even though everything inside him was a whirling mass of confusion. He brushed a thick lock of hair from her eyes. “Come home with me, let me make you feel good.”

She blinked up at him, trusting him. “Okay.”

“Let’s go.”

Charlotte wasn’t right for him, anyone could see that. He’d be better off letting her catch her bus home, finding someone less sweet and kind and funny to lose himself in, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wanted her. He wanted to bury himself in every warm wet hole Charlotte had to offer until he couldn’t think straight. He wanted to blanket himself in her calm sweetness until everything else washed away. He was a wolf and she wanted to get eaten. The end.

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