SCOTTISH ROMANCE: My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf (Scottish Werewolf Pregnancy Romance) (Historical Medieval Shape Shifter Paranormal Science Fiction Short Stories) (78 page)

When I got back to my apartment, I threw a box of Mac and Cheese into the microwave, and grabbed myself a big glass of water to stave off the hangover. Had I seriously just done that? Much as it was kind of exciting to have brazenly hit on Randy, I wasn’t genuinely expecting him to call me- he was probably just looking for someone to flirt with, like me, someone he could just hit on for an evening for an ego boost. And who knows, maybe he would find my number the next day and call me up and…then what? I wasn’t sure how one went about actually dating a drug dealer, but I would be expecting champagne and limos everywhere we went. Or…or maybe just him. I had felt more than a little flicker of chemistry between us, although that could have been the beer or the atmosphere in the bar. I resolved to push him to the back of my thoughts until he gave me a reason not to.

When I woke up the next day, I was mercifully hangover-free, my body just a little achey from wearing heels all night long. Stretching my tired muscles, I yawned, and ran over the events from last night. When I remembered Randy, my stomach curled in on itself slightly my body clenching with the excitement of what had just gone down. But, as I’d promised, I peeled myself from the covers and started prepping myself for an interview I had at Stone’s Marketing, a small but quickly growing copywriting venture uptown. Dragging myself through to the bathroom for a shower, I allowed the hot water to wash away all my memories of last night, and click me back into professional Renee mode. The last thing I wanted was for the people I planned to work for to find out that I may or may not have laid in bed fantasising about a drug dealer and his alleged big dick.

The interview went well- better than I expected, in fact. They were interested in my ideas, and it turned out that one of the people I’d interned for back before college had a senior position at the company. I was walking on air when I came out, trying not to let myself get too psyched about working with such a cool group of people before I actually received confirmation one way or the other.

Pulling my phone out of my bag to distract myself, I saw that the screen had lit up to show one message. Clicking it open, I didn’t recognise the number, but read on anyway.

“Hope ur interview went well. Great meeting u last night. Would love to get a drink soon. R x”

Holy shit, it was from him! I hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon, if at all. My fingers hovered over the keys as I tried to figure out what to type back.

“It went great, thanks. Cool meeting you too. When are you free this week?”

Not to keen, but pushing forward for an actual date. My head intervened for a moment, asking me what my new employers might think of me dating a drug dealer, but I shook my head. It was just like Thea said- plausible deniability. Maybe I thought he was just a cool, popular guy who happened to always be surrounded by coked-up party girls, apropos of nothing? I snorted at the ridiculousness of the thought. Yeah, like that would work. Anyway, I wasn’t planning on running away and marrying this guy, just dabbling a bit in a dating pool that I’d left relatively untouched for the last few years. And hey, life is nothing without risk, right? I had to take advantage of the opportunity while it was in front of me.

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down. One word lit up the screen: “Tonight?”

Hmm, maybe a little keen, Randy. I texted back, suggesting tomorrow night at a quiet, hole-in-the-wall bar I used to take all my first dates to downtown. It was the sort of place where he wouldn’t get recognised by clients- at least, that’s what I hoped. He texted back minutes later, agreeing, and I dropped my phone back into my bag, satisfied. A great interview and a date with an alpha bad boy- did it get much better than this?

By the time the next night swung around, I was genuinely excited. My stomach was knotted with nerves, a sensation I was not used to feeling as the queen bee of my college’s sexual scene. I had dressed a little more conservatively than I had on our first meeting-now that I was looking at actually having a job, I wanted to be sure that I was projecting the right kind of “professional woman” vibe at all times and, hey, when else was I going to get the chance to wear that fantastic slate-grey pencil skirt with a retro Run DMC t-shirt? Slinging on a pair of heels and fluffing up my hair so it fell in soft waves over my breasts, I admired myself in the mirror one last time before I called myself up a taxi.

He was already there when I arrived at the bar, sitting with his drink in a small corner booth. He was wearing smart jeans and a crisp white shirt, and I was impressed at the effort he’d put in to make himself look nice. He strolled over to me and planted a soft, swift kiss on my cheek, sending my heart fluttering once again. The scent of his aftershave lingered on my skin.

“Renee! You look great. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Great to see you, too,” I smiled coyly at him, heading towards the bar and ordering myself a rum and coke. I slid into the booth opposite him, carefully placing my drink down so it didn’t spill.

“So.” I nodded, trying to take in the situation in front of me, and not get distracted by his gorgeous cheekbones.

“So?” He asked, his voice raising as if he was asking a question.

“I guess I’m kind of curious as to what a guy like you is doing on a date with a woman like me.” There was no need to beat around the bush here, or to play silly games that would just lead us both down the wrong path. He was cute, I was cute, but we came from different worlds, and I wanted to make sure that he didn’t forget that important point.

He shrugged. “I’m just looking for people to hang out with who aren’t part of my normal social circle. You know.”

“And what is your normal social circle?”

He looked at me, his eyebrows raised as if to say “seriously?”. “You saw them- party guys, coked-out models, hangers-on looking for a handout.”

“There must be
some
decent people in…your industry.”

He laughed, a deep and comforting sound that made me crave more. “My industry. That’s cute. I’ll have to call it that on my CV when I’m looking for new work.” He sipped his drink. “And yeah, there are a few good people. But most of them would be good people to hang with even if I was nowhere near, um, my industry.”

My ears pricked up, holding on to a certain comment he’d just made. “New work? Are you looking for new work?”

He glanced away from me for a moment, as if considering what he was going to say next, then continued. “I guess, kind of.”

“Why?”

“I’m bored. I got a degree in business management a few years back, and I feel like I’m not really doing anything with it.” He corrected himself. “Well, not anything useful.”

“So…you’re getting out of the business?” This wasn’t what I had expected when I’d agreed to come out with him, I could tell you that for free.

“Yeah. Seeing all the college kids like you finishing up and heading out into the world to do something constructive always gives me a kick up the ass, but this year I think it’s probably best I actually do something about it. It’s dangerous work, and there are so many people I could hand it off to. Just leave it behind, you know?”

Wow. I struggled to take in everything he was saying. So my hot alpha drug-lord was actually just a hot alpha? This was some of the best news I’d heard all year. I nodded, trying to react appropriately to everything he was saying. “Yeah, of course.” I paused as a thought flitted across my mind. “Is that why you asked me out?”

He grinned like he’d been caught out. “It’s cool to hang around people who aren’t drugged up all the time. Makes the thought of leaving a little more tangible.”

“Right, so I’m just your tie to normality?” I teased.

“Well, that, and I think you’re super hot.”

Okay, I hadn’t been expecting that. His mouth was serious but his eyes were smiling, his tone playful.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I managed, trying to keep the quake out of my voice. Sure, I’d known this guy thought I was hot when he’d spoken to that bouncer to get me into the bar, but hearing him say it was all different kinds of sexy. We stared at each other for a moment, as if both of us were trying to figure out where to go from here.

“So,” I began. “Where’d you get your degree?”

And so started one of the best dates of my whole life. He was smart, funny, charming, and we even grew up watching the same sitcoms from the seventies. He was also a total gentleman, the kind that all my sorority sisters were constantly swooning over but could never find. Now that’s I’d stumbled across one of my own, I had to say it was actually kind of hot to be treated like a lady. I still insisted of paying for my own drinks, because that was just the way I worked it on dates, but it was nice to have someone open doors for me and talk to me politely. So we sat and talked to hours, exchanging little snippets of our life stories, giggling over our retrospective college escapades. He’d been to the same college as me, so we reminisced over our time there, and I told him about all the stuff that had changed since he’d left. I was scrolling through my phone, trying to find the name of a Richard Wright book I couldn’t remember the name of, when his hand suddenly snuck across the burnished wood table and grasped mine.

I’d been having such a good time, I’d almost forgotten that the two of us were on a date. Our rapport was so easy and laid-back, it didn’t feel like the high-pressure push and pull for power I was used to from other guys. Glancing up at him, I smiled, and I felt his hand brush my knee under the table. I was a little fuzzy from the alcohol, but I was certain that I didn’t want the night to end. Flicking my bangs out of my eyes and looking up at him, I ventured a question.

“Would you like to come back to mine? Just for another drink?” My voice was a lot higher than it normally was, but that was the effect of his hand on my bare knee. Half of me was urging him to slide it even higher, while the other half was telling me off for even considering doing something so lewd in public.

“Sure,” he smiled broadly, squeezing my hand in his strong fingers. “Do you want me to call us a taxi?”

I nodded, and he stepped away from the table to call a cab. I slid my phone away and busied myself with my coat, my mind whirling. Did I seriously just invite him back to my place? Was I being that obvious? And, while we’d had an awesome connection this evening, was he just feeding me lines that I wanted to hear?

Glancing across the bar at him, I took in his strong, athletic form once again, and told myself no- that couldn’t be it. If he’d wanted to just hook up with some girl, there were plenty who’d be more than willing to throw themselves at him. This was something more than that, and the thought made me excited. He was far outside my type, but maybe I’d spent too long hanging around the wrong types anyway- we’d never wanted the same thing at the same time, after all, and we’d always ended up broken up and bitter. Maybe I was better off looking for someone a little closer to home?

The taxi arrived, and Randy took his hand in mine to lead me outside. It was raining lightly, and I bundled myself into the car before I could get wet. I gave my address to the driver, and he tore away, plunging through the night towards my place. Randy hadn’t taken his hand off mine, and I was so deeply aware of the way his skin felt against mine, of the warmth of him. It was all I could do not to lean across the cab and pull him towards me. I wanted to taste him, to feel him, but I figured that that might be a little inappropriate with the driver in the front seat. Anyway, I was getting hot from all the anticipation, and it just made me want his mouth on me even more. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been as excited about hooking up with a new guy as I was now.

By the time we arrived at my apartment building, I was desperate to get him upstairs and into my place. Fumbling with the keys, I just managed to get the door open before he spun me round, wrapped an arm around my waist, and kissed me.

Damn.

If all first kisses could be like this, then I’d be in love with the guy I’d first made out with in 9
th
grade. Pushing the door shut behind us, Randy pulled me into his arms, holding me up as his mouth moved against mine. His tongue gently parted my lips, caressing them, as if he had been waiting to have me like this all night long. The strength of his body against mine matched with the softness of his lips was intoxicating, even more so than the rum and cokes I’d thrown back, and I slowly slid my tongue out to meet his. Our kiss became deeper, my hand gripping his hair to tilt him towards me, and I felt him moan slightly into my mouth. Having the power to turn on such a gorgeous, alpha guy was insanely hot, and in that moment I would have done anything I could to please him. He just felt so natural, with his mouth on mine.

We stood in the doorway like that for a good few minutes, my hands travelling across his back and ending up at the waistband of his jeans, while his hands remained on my waist, angling me and caressing me so that I shivered with every motion. Then he began to move us, backing us towards the couch so that we both toppled down on to it, his body on top of mine. Feeling the sheer weight of his masculine body next to my own was a powerful thing, and I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed him harder, wriggling my body underneath his. I could already feel an erection growing beneath his jeans, and I fought to urge to reach down and touch it. Delayed gratification had been doing me so well up until this point, why change that now?

Kicking off my shoes, I parted my legs so I could wrap them around him and move against him properly. I hadn’t dry-humped like this since I was a freshman and determined to hold on to my virginity for someone special. Looking back, I was glad I’d done it when I had, because it meant I could go into this sexual encounter with Randy with a bit more confidence than I would have if I were a trembling virgin.