Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 15

JASON

"No," I say, but it’s a lie.

When I carried her from the backseat of the car into the tiny apartment, she’d slung her arms around

my neck. Then, when I went to put her on the bed, she clung to me.

When I went to lay her down, she pulled me onto the bed and rolled until she was on top of me.

I was not expecting that.

In those moments with her on top of me… my wolf rumbles at the memory.

He’s a simple beast. Driven by food, fighting, women.

Any one will do. Female or shifter.

We have high standards but no real attachment. With the exception of my former fiancee Jennifer, my

sexual encounters have been a string of one-night stands, and bedding female wolves from other

packs. Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

The important thing was that any woman I fucked knew the score.

I didn’t want a relationship.

Jennifer had been an exception. And since her death those years ago, I had no desire for a repeat

performance.

“What are you thinking about?” Grace whispers.

She’s sitting up, the blanket crushed against her chest.

“Your eyes…it’s like they go someplace else.”

Ha. She’d been fixated on my eyes last night too.

A man of rigorous control and training, how had I let my guard down to let her roll on top of me like

that? But before I could get up, she touched my face with her hands.

”Your eyes are so beautiful,” she’d murmured, “I really... like them..."

"Like?" The word was not strange to me. After all, there were always women who said that they liked

me, liked my eyes. My body. My wolf.

Insert whatever object/attribute they thought I’d like to hear.

When really, I preferred their silence.

The females in my life… they all want something, and flattery seems to be the forerunner of whatever

request it is that they intended to make.

Yeah. Misogyny.

I don’t overthink it.

I’m not mistrusting of women, per say, I’m that way with everyone.

In the past, when I was young, my father would look into my eyes and go quiet—much like Grace is

right now. Then my dad would mumble, "The kind of eyes you have are deceptive, Jason. They look

like they're very emotional, but in reality, they're the most heartless. I don't know if you will be emotional

or heartless in the future.”

As an Alpha, I had to be both.

Always.

Heartless is my default and it’s … easier.

“Uh oh,” Grace buries her head in her pillow. “I did do something embarrassing, didn’t I. What did I

say?”

“You told me my eyes were clean. Clear.”

She groans.

A corner of my mouth kicks up. I can’t resist teasing her. “I had showered yesterday, so, you know, I

can understand the clean part.”

Another groan.

“And I’m too young for cataracts, so, yeah, clear.”

I tug the pillow from her face.

“I was drunk,” she says as way of excuse.

She was forcibly made to drink and slipped something that could have potentially killed her. Terrence

had kept our pack physician on standby all night, in case.

Her cheeks bloom with color. “Please tell me that’s all…”

I smirk.

She drops back on the bed and covers her eyes with her forearm. “Gah, just tell me. What did I say,

Jay?”

I smile now. “You said you’d protect me.”

She’s still for several seconds then she busts out laughing. “I bet you thought that was funny too.”

I thought it many things.

Foolish. Naive.

Reckless.

Unnecessary.

Sweet.

“A big bad wolf like you likely doesn’t need protecting, right?” She tugs her hair to one side and plays

with the ends.

Sunlight cuts through the one window in the apartment and lands on her face. The bruise on her cheek

is dark. ”It would be great if I had arrived earlier. In that case, you wouldn't have been hurt."

I knew where she was and had several wolves in place at the hotel before I arrived. I’d been curious.

Why was she going there? This game between us, inevitably would end, but for now it amused me and

I saw no reason not to extend the charade.

I didn’t anticipate things playing out the way they did once she was inside that room though.

And when I did see what had happened, I was not happy. Not at all.

Grace pulls at my hand. "Thank you, Jay. It's really good to have you here. And I'm fine, really. It was

just a slap in the face. It's nothing to me."

Hmm. It’s nothing to me too. But the bruise on her face offends me and when she smiles as she does

now, looking at me like I’m the greatest man in the world…it stirs something to life inside me.