“He’s the one we think keeps knocking up his wife so he doesn’t have to go back to work.” Claire whispered, “Here he comes.”
Flushlaps approached the table with his glued masterpiece. And then he saw Claire. He stopped in his tracks.
Claire stood. “Mr. Flushlaps. I think you obviously have to leave Hazel alone at this point.”
Wolf came to stand next to Claire. “What’s going on?”
Claire pointed in Flushlaps' direction. “I recognize Mr. Flushlaps as a married parent from our school. It's not appropriate for Hazel to be swindled into this match.”
Hazel, Claire, and Wolf all seemed to do the same thing at the same moment. They looked at Flushlaps' left hand. There was an obvious divot where he had recently removed a ring from his fourth finger.
Wolf looked harder at Flushlaps. “Wait a minute. You aren’t the guy from the picture. I set Hazel up with a different guy. Where’s Vander?” Wolf pointed around the room as if he was looking for someone.
Flushlaps cleared his throat and handed Hazel his collage. “Um. I sent in a picture that wasn’t me.”
Wolf stepped closer. “I was just coming here to tell Mr. Vander that his check bounced. But that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Because there is no such animal.”
Flushlaps grabbed his phone. Then he backed away from Hazel’s table and put up his hands to ward off Wolf.
Chance appeared out of nowhere, but Hazel noticed there was a hush on the crowd. Wolf was mad. He wasn’t yelling, but his tone of voice carried distinct authority.
Chance and another Booty Camp staff member came up on either side of Mr. Flushlaps.
“You don’t have to touch me. I’ll see myself out.”
Claire didn’t add any fuel to the flames, but her disapproving assistant principal glare was in full effect.
Hazel slouched in her seat and covered her eyes. This was the second time her date had been kicked out of the venue.
She looked at the collage on her table, its glue still wet. He’d done a good job, Flushlaps/Vander. It had kittens and music and dancing. All things she liked.
Chance came back and set a more relaxed tone, checking in with all the tables to make sure that they were pleased with their experience.
Claire sat in the empty chair, her insta-happiness sparkling on her left hand. As much as Hazel loved her best friend, it was really hard to see her looking all swoony and in love when she was literally getting teabagged with fate’s nuts at every turn.
Wolf approached the table with a glass of wine in one hand and some kind of liquor in the other just as she told Claire, “Look at all these people with normal dates.”
“Claire, can I sit with her for a few minutes?”
Claire gave Hazel a hopeful glance that included wiggling eyebrows. “Sure. If Hazel doesn’t mind.”
Hazel nodded once at her friend. She’d rather spend a few minutes with Wolf than wallow in yet another success story. She would let herself be bitter for a few minutes.
Wolf set the glass of wine in front of her, resting it on Flushlaps’ masterpiece.
She drained it before he was even completely settled in the opposite chair.
“Whoa. Thirsty?” He took a sip from his glass. The leather bracelets that wrapped around his wrist peeked out from under the blazer he wore over his Booty Camp T-shirt. A dark-wash, slightly beat-up pair of jeans was as fancy as he got.
“No,” Hazel replied.
A Booty Camp staff member removed her empty glass and placed a fresh one in front of her.
Hazel ran her finger along its edge and refused to look at Wolf.
After he took another sip of his drink, he gave her some comforting advice. “And that’s why checks are so untrustworthy.”
“Really? That’s what you take from this?” She gave him a hard look.
“Well, his check did bounce.” Wolf took another swallow.
“I wish I had more middle fingers to give you.” Hazel held up the two she had.
He set down his drink and covered her offensive fingers with his hands. “I bet you do. Just pointing out that this attitude might be why we're having issues.”
“Not your lack of an actual talent, then? And what about my safety?” She was sick of storming out and letting him enjoy the peace of her absence. “You know what? I’ve paid for a date, and you’ve delivered me a possible felon and a definitely married dude with squished balls. I think that qualifies me for a refund. Maybe even some interest. You should hear my rates.”
“Are you so sure you weren’t with the ex the last couple of days?” He finished his drink and held up his empty glass while making eye contact with her. A staff member took the cue and rushed to the open bar.
“If that was your business, you’d know.” She swallowed more of her wine. He was driving her to drink. Because despite their sparring words, there was this thing between them. It was like an unlit fire.
Chance showed up at their table and handed Hazel another drink while holding Wolf’s empty. He deftly switched out the white paper. The one with Flushlaps and Hazel’s conversation was crinkled into a noisy ball and a fresh one was placed on the table.
“You two should start with the first exercise. I think you might suck at talking. Try writing.” He set the markers back down on the table and rearranged the LED candles, as well.
A girl returned with Wolf's drink, and Claire appeared with a fresh wine for Hazel, even though she still had half a glass.
She gave Claire a suspicious look, and her best friend paused to lean down and kiss the top of her head.
Chance offered some advice. “This is quiet date. Your yapping is distracting.”
Wolf took the drink. “The security team is taking a hit while Peter is gone. We need to stay on top of this stuff.”
“True. I’ll look into it. Meanwhile, set a good example, Chief.” Chance patted the table before leaving.
Hazel took the blue marker and drew an upside-down middle finger with an arrow pointing at him. Then she added her thoughts.
You suck.
He leaned over and plucked the blue marker from her hand.
You’re eloquent. I thought you were a teacher.
His handwriting was sloppy, but she could read it.
She took her time with the pink marker and used dots and dashes to spell out his first name. Then she jotted next to it.
Here, practice so your handwriting looks better than a caveman’s.
He read it and nailed her with a look that almost had a smile in it.
Did you spend the night with the Ken doll?
She read it and shrugged her shoulders in pretend confusion.
What?
He added to his note.
Your ex. I call him the Ken doll.
Hazel mouthed the word, “Oh,” as it became clear to her.
You have a special nickname for my ex. Awesome. And creepy. And not that it matters, but he followed me to my apartment and then I closed the door in his face.
He responded.
Good.
Hazel regarded him for a moment.
Really? It would be so much easier for you if I broke the rules and you got to keep my money and stop me from hassling you.
Maybe. But his energy is all wrong for you.
So the married catfish is a better match?
The guy in the picture he sent in would have been a great match.
Hazel set her marker down and drank her wine.
The atmosphere didn’t really invite conversation, but it did allow for extended eye contact.
She held his attention as she tried to figure him out. Was he just a money hungry douche? Pity kiss had been a nice gesture, if not a reassuring one for her womanhood.
He broke first.
What are you thinking about?
I’m trying to figure out what your deal is.
Come up with any answers?
The room was filled with the furious scratching of Sharpies on paper. Hazel noticed
that some couples had flipped their paper over to get more writing space. It was a corny exercise, but it was a good trick. It was intimate without having to touch.
I wonder if you even like your job. You seem pretty grumpy.
He rolled his eyes before adding his words near hers.
I’m only grumpy around thickheaded women named Hazel.
That’s pretty specific.
I know. Imagine my surprise when you came through the door.
She took another sip of her wine.
Tell me about your tattoo.
Hazel wanted to see if he could hold a normal conversation or if he would continue to be an asshole to her no matter what.
She watched as he lifted the sleeve of his blazer to touch the tattoo she'd been thinking of.
He slowly put his answer on paper.
It’s in honor of my sister.
Hazel was taken aback. An actual answer. A sad answer.
She’s passed?
He nodded.
It’s beautiful. I bet she meant a lot to you.
It was gorgeous ink. An almost abstract version of a dragon—very colorful.
She meant everything.
Hazel ran her fingers over the words. It seemed artificial to make him write them, so she risked a whisper. “I’m sorry you lost her.”
Wolf looked away briefly.
He set down his pen and leaned closer, also risking a whisper. “Tell me about the kids in your class.”
The smile hit her face before she remembered to be angry with him. She loved her kids. Sometimes people were jerks about the kids she taught. In her experience, the sheltered people of the world couldn’t imagine life loving a special-needs individual. But if this guy had anything negative to say about her kids, she would toss her wine at him and then kick him in the balls.
Wolf gave her a confused look. “What? Are they in the Witness Protection Program or something?”
Hazel narrowed her eyes. “They’re just really important to me. And I’m super protective of them.”
She fished her cell phone out of the box, and Wolf leaned forward to block her illegal usage of the device from the prying eyes around them.
She punched in her code to unlock it and then accessed her pictures. She turned the phone to him and watched his face as he viewed the class snapshot she had taken a few days earlier.
In that picture, she saw their achievements, personalities, and exquisite souls. Wolf swallowed twice before taking the chance to swipe through her other pictures. She went to grab the phone, but he leaned back just enough so that she couldn’t reach.
As he swiped, she recalled each picture... Kenzie... Jonah... picture after picture would be flying by of the kids in moments she'd wanted to capture. Kenzie putting together a bird puzzle. Jonah hitting the yes on his conversation board. She checked his face again. If he had any cruel comments, she'd be headed to jail soon.
He flipped the phone around to her when he got to the picture of Scott she’d left on her phone in a moment of weakness.
She took the phone and locked it before putting it back in the decorated box.
“You deserve a real match. Not a guy who's lewd. Not a guy who's actually not the guy he says he is. You need a man.”
Wolf hit her with a look that seemed to hold sincere respect. She was lucky she was sitting because it was a lot to be appraised by him in that way. She rubbed the back of her neck as the hair there stood on end.
He was a powerful energy on his own.
She rubbed her index finger over her bottom lip. The image of him between her legs came like a thunderbolt to her dirty imagination. The pull toward this guy was unlike anything else she’d ever felt. If she had balls they would be blue. Her lady balls were blue.
With everything in her heart and her vagina, Hazel wanted him to say he was her match even though she knew her head would not agree.
Wolf stood. “Grab your phone.” He held out his hand to her.
She regarded him for a few seconds before doing what he asked and taking his hand.
He led her back to his office and put her in the center of the room before closing the door.
Hazel turned to face him as he locked it.
Oh shit.
Chapter 16
She
The first thing he needed to remember was that he was at work. With all his employees outside. And he had a firm rule about getting involved with clients. It wasn’t going to happen.
He faced her, and her soft hair and surprised expression triggered him. He stood on his moral ground for a good five seconds, rubbing his fist on the inside of his palm. He leaned over and ran his palms down his thighs to his knees.
He just knew they would fit together.
He looked at her again and she had the very edge of her bottom lip pinned down by her teeth. Pulling his blazer off, he threw it at one of the decorative chairs. It missed and lumped on the floor.
Hazel put the back of her hand on her forehead and let her gaze skim over him. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears and feel it pumping in his dick.
Her tongue peeked out a little as she looked at the fly of his jeans and spoke directly to it like it was a microphone. “I want to make a mistake with you. Right now.”
His voice was growly in his own ears when he said, “You’re sure?”
Hazel let her phone fall from her hand and she walked at him like he was a doorway she was going through. At the last second, she put her hand in the center of his chest, backing him against the door he’d just locked.
He gripped the wood behind him with the tips of his fingers. Obviously, reason had it that he wasn’t going to sexually indulge in her. But she slid one hand over his chest, up to his face, the other covering the problem he was having below his reason equator.
The loud groan came from him.
Hazel teased him. She held still, her lips just an inch away from his. In a breath she moved closer and skimmed her mouth near his skin, near his jaw.
She pushed up on the tips of her toes and placed an almost kiss on his cheekbone.
“How can someone so pretty…”
She ran her hand through his hair before grabbing a fistful of it and tugging. “…Be so mean?”
Oh God, he could do so much magnificent damage with her.
She gently bit his bottom lip and let her tongue touch it lightly before speaking into his mouth. “Maybe I can learn from my mistakes tonight?”
He licked his own lips and tasted her wine there. And he snapped. He let go of the door and pulled her hard against his chest. This wasn’t a kiss that defended her honor, it was simply what the man in him needed.
It was like Pop Rocks, soda, and fireworks in his mouth when he kissed the living hell out of this girl. She might irritate him, but her mouth had to be the most fuckable place on the planet. His brain gave him a flash of what her breasts and pussy might look like, and his testosterone hit him in the sex drive like a battering ram.
His hands were all over her, groping tightly—painfully, even—feeling all of her. Maybe even bruising her a little bit. He appreciated the curve of her hip, the pliant firm swell of her ass.
Hazel tilted her head back, her hair tickling his arms as she sighed like his touch was it’s own orgasm. His balls felt like they were crying and clapping at the same time.
While he had two handfuls of her generous tits, she retaliated with a demanding grip on his dick. When they locked gazes, the look in her eyes was pure sin. He’d never been regarded with such confident hunger before.
Wolf watched as her hands disappeared under his shirt, pulling it over his head. He felt a happy smile tug on his lips when she ran her hands over his chest and said, “Thank God. This chest hair. Sweet Jesus. I missed these tattoos.” Hazel stopped and put her cheek against his chest.
He offered, “I’ve got hair other places, too.”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shh. Don’t speak. Just be pretty. And do the rough, grabby things. That way
I’ll hate myself less for demanding that you screw my brains out on that old desk.”
The way she took her shirt off was fascinating to watch. It was like she was creating a surrender flag for her inhibitions. This beautiful girl, who had decided he was a mistake she was willing to make, took off her bra in his office. If her boobs felt great before, they looked spectacular now.
She backed away from him and sat on the edge of his desk. “So? Am I a good mistake for you?” She grabbed her nipples.
His mouth went dry. Somewhere in his brain, there was a voice whispering this was a bad idea. A trick, even. But his dick was screaming so loud, and his dick was right about everything, everywhere, all the time. And his dick would never turn Hazel down like this.
As he advanced on her, he watched the pleasure with a tinge of anticipation on her face and decided he would do every damn thing to keep that look there.
She was a treat. An illicit one, but the allure was overwhelming. The mouth, the breasts, the belly button and the slope below it all made this wrong so very right. Her skin was soft, and as he kissed every bare inch she offered, he realized she smelled amazing.
He pulled her close so her chest was pressed into his and used his other hand to throw everything off his desk, including the light. It tossed interesting shadows around the room, but her magnificent face was highlighted, and that was exactly what he needed. He kissed her while lying her gently back on the desk.
“Hey.” She stopped him, and he waited to see what she needed while panting a bit. “Don’t be gentle, for fuck’s sake.”