ROMANCE: The Bad Boy Meeting (35 page)

              She knew she was safe when Keith burst through the door. She wasn’t expecting it to be so dramatic but she wasn’t going to complain. She pulled against the men, managing to get away now that they were stunned by the sudden arrival of this brute of a man.

Just as she started to get away, one of the men snatched at her dress and pulled her back. She hit the ground hard and that's when Keith saw red.

His skin began to rippled as his body started to change and the skin around his spine began to split as fur sprung up from underneath. His feet and hands changed into massive paws and claws grew from them, scratching the hardwood floors as he finally settled on all fours.

His mouth had elongated and become a muzzle full of sharp teeth. His eyes were the same gray they always were but far more intense with a storm churning just behind them. He let out another snarl and Robert made a strange, terrified noise.

Rachel’s heart was pounding in her chest and her eyes were wide as she stared at the wolf that had once been Keith. This was the stuff that nightmares were made out of and yet, she wasn’t scared. This was Keith. She knew it was still him and she knew that he wouldn’t hurt her.

He was pawing closer and closer and the men holding her down were looking on in horror. Robert was screaming for them to shoot the wild animal. His voice was strangled and his breathing had become more and more erratic and it sounded as if he might pass out at any moment.

Despite his orders to shoot, the men just stood there, stunned and gripping Rachel with enough force to bruise her arms. She didn’t care about that, though. Her eyes met Keith’s canine gaze and a smirk started to pull at her lips. Her head shot up and she said the words that would make Robert’s blood run cold.

“Sick ‘em boy.”

Keith didn’t hesitate. He lept at the men and they released Rachel immediately. She scrambled away from them as Keith nipped at their heels and chased them out of the room. He wanted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum since Rachel was watching. Once the men had fled the room he turned his gaze on Robert.

The tubby man was backed into a corner, tears streaming down his fat cheeks. He was blubbering like a baby and begging for the wolf to spare his life. Keith looked over at Rachel and the woman narrowed her eyes, nodding.

He leaped at Robert and he screamed, bringing his hands up to protect his face. Keith was on top of Robert, looming over him, his muzzle dripping with saliva. He wanted nothing more than to tear this man open and rip him apart for touching
his
Rachel. He snarled and snapped his teeth loudly in Roberts face.

Rachel walked over to them and crossed her arms, staring down at the man who had tried to rape her. The cut on her cheek had stopped bleeding but the dried blood was smeared across her face. She stared down at him, her eyes bright and a wicked smile coming to her face.

“You think this is a game, Mr. Cohen?” She whispered, snapping her fingers.

Keith snarled and snapped at Robert’s face again. He was on the verge of a heart attack now and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You think we’re playing? One word and Keith here will rip you to pieces.” She hissed.

Robert let out a pathetic sob and shook his head, trying to avoid the wolf’s teeth and gaze, “No! No! I don’t think this is a game! Please, I’ll pay you! Whatever you want!” He sobbed.

She grinned and tapped her foot on the floor, “Oh you’re going to pay alright.” She hummed. “I’m not interested in money and neither is Keith. We want justice. I’m about to tell you what’s going to happen next. You’re going to listen closely and do exactly what I tell you to do.” She said sharply.

Robert nodded quickly, “Yes! Anything! Whatever you want!” He wheezed out.

Rachel ran her hand down Keith’s spine and he backed away, his teeth still bared, warning the man that if he made any moves he’d be dog food. Rachel crossed her arms and glared at him.

“You’re going to stand the fuck up and we’re going to walk up the stairs to the roof.”

              “T-Then what?” He whimpered, obviously afraid that they were going to throw him off the top or shoot him.

              She grinned at him and nudged him towards the door. “You’ll find out when we get there.”

              They walked to the stairwell and made the short climb to the top. As they walked, she could hear the cracking sound of shifting bones as Keith turned back into a human. He was shirtless and his remaining clothes were torn but that could be explained away. They wouldn’t really have a solid answer for the agency if Rachel showed up to their pick up with a large wolf.

              When she turned around she saw Keith’s handsome face once more. The teeth and fur were gone but that protective gaze remained. It made her shudder and she’d happily admit that she liked it.

              They stood on the roof for a while before a helicopter dropped down and some transport people hopped off and cuffed Mr. Cohen. He read the side of the helicopter and his eyes widened.

              “The DEA?”

              “That’s right. You’re going away for a long time, Robert.” Keith said.

              Robert spun around, his eyes bulging out of his head in anger. As the dragged him away and put him in the helicopter he was screaming about a wolf man and cursing the two who had finally busted him. He slammed his fists against the window to no avail. As the helicopter took off, his words were muffled by the loud sounds the propeller made as it took off into the night sky, leaving Keith and Rachel alone.

Chapter Ten

              They stood on the roof and watched the helicopter fly away before they turned and took the elevator down to the first floor. As the walked out a storm of DEA agents entered the building, handcuffing people as they tried to escape.

              The valet was in a state of shock and so he didn’t hand them their keys. He was staring at the men who had begun herding people out into police vans. Keith dug around until he found the keys to the car they’d drove there.

              As the walked to the car, they were in total silence. There was a lot to be said but neither seemed willing to start the conversation. Hell, were there even words for what had happened? Rachel had so many questions but she had no idea how to even begin asking them.

              She got into the car and leaned back in the seat, taking a deep breath. She turned to Keith and smiled at him, “Can we go back to your place?” She finally said.

              Keith was surprised but nodded and started the car, his brows furrowed as he considered his next words carefully, “You want to go home with me?”

              “Of course I do. You promised me wine.” She murmured, closing her eyes.

              He backed out of the parking spot and fell silent once more. After a long paused he looked over at her, “You aren’t scared of me?”

              “Why would I be scared of you?”

              “Well, because...You know…”

              “Because you can apparently turn into a wolf and snap people’s necks? Nah.” She smiled at him, turning her head to the side.

              His heart swelled with hope and he could help but smile, “You really aren’t afraid of me?”

              “You haven’t given me any reason to be afraid. You’ve never hurt me and I don’t think you ever would.” She said, curling up in the seat.

              He smiled and shook his head. “I wouldn’t.” He whispered, glancing over as she dozed off.

              Keith didn’t wake her up when they got back to his house. He picked her up and carried her inside and laid her out on the bed. He undressed her and tossed the tattered dress on the floor. He slipped out of his own clothes and crawled into bed, wrapping himself around her.

              She sighed happily in her sleep and curled even closer to him. She’d always enjoyed how warm he was. Sleeping beside Keith was the best sleep she’d had in months. She didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and slept well into morning.

              When the sun finally started to filter through the curtains, she opened her eyes and sat up, looking around the familiar room. She smiled and turned over, kissing his sleeping form and stroking his cheek. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

              His gray eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her, smiling happily. “Morning beautiful.” He sang, leaning up and kissing her.

              She smiled and returned the kiss, settling back into the bed. She stared up at the ceiling for a long time before she spoke again, “So...This whole, avoiding me and trying to make me hate you thing that you did for so long. Was it because of this?” She asked, looking over at him.

              “Because of what?”

              “You know what I’m talking about. Was it because you’re a….wolf-man-thing?”

              “I’m a werewolf, and yes. That was the reason. I was afraid you’d find out and I’d have to leave.” He admitted, “I would rather have you hate me and still be around than have to leave and never see you again.” He sighed, closing his eyes, “That was my worst fear for a long time.”

              She nodded and looked up and him, kissing him tenderly. “Has it happened before?”

              “Once.” He said, not really wanting to go into anymore detail.

              Rachel nodded but didn’t press him for more information. “Well, I’m not that easy to get rid of.” She murmured, smiling up at him.

              He laughed a little and nodded. “Is that so?”

              “Hell, yeah. I’m super stubborn, so if we’re going to be an item, you’ll have to get used to that.” She pointed out.

              He laughed and they fell into a comfortable silence. Everything was comfortable with Keith. It always had been. That was why she’d been so angry when he avoided her. She knew they were meant to be and the idea that he would cast her aside just seemed so...stupid. They were perfect together and could only better each other.

              She smiled and rubbed his chest a moment, “You’re the best partner I ever had, you know?” Rachel admitted.

              “On the force or in the bedroom?”

              “Both.” She said with a grin.

              He laughed again and rubbed her back. “Same. You make it hard to focus, though. I react without thinking when you’re in trouble. If I keep transforming like this, it might cause us some trouble.”

              “Nothing we can’t handle.”

              He looked down at her and pulled her close, his brows furrowing “You’re really going to stay?” He asked, sounding like he didn’t quite believe it.

              “Of course I am.” She murmured.

              “I just...Have to make sure.” He said with a sigh.

              She looked up at him and stole a kiss. “I care about you, Keith and I might even love you. Besides, I’m totally a dog person.”

              Rachel had tried to brush off the fact that she’d just told him she loved him. It didn’t slip past Keith, however and he pressed his lips to her temple, smiling.

              “I love you too, Rachel.”

By Rachel S. William

Copyrights © 2015 by Rachel S. William

All rights reserved. No part of this publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author and the publisher.

WARNING: This e- book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It maybe be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY.

Please ensure that this book is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by an underage reader.

I stood, being sure to smooth out my black Chanel mini dress. Mother told me it was a mistake that no one would take me seriously with my back showing and my hem so far away from my knees. She even replaced the dress with a more subdued knee-length pencil skirt. I wore the skirt to breakfast, even smiling while Mother and Father cooed at my much more conservative attire, but changed into the dress she detested at my first chance. I knew they would have to see me eventually. We worked in the same office building for Christ-sake. They will realize that I defied them.

I can’t wait.

The subdued applause ended as I took my stance in the front of the conference room. I ran my hands through the curls that had taken me almost an hour to complete that morning, wrapping my long hair into one roll on my right shoulder, then cleared my throat, turning my attention to the then covered sketches I had completed for the upcoming fashion show. I uncovered them, leaving a pause for reaction.

Like clockwork, a collective gasp rippled through the room. There was the sound of pens clicking, pages turning, chairs moving and scribbling as people jotted down what she assumed was complete and utter support.

“So, you see here...” she pointed to a rough sketch of a dress standing alone on an easel. “This is the center piece. I imagine it red and black for the show, but I am open to other options when it is released to YSL.” She explained.

There were collective nods from the business people that filled the room, so I smiled, thinking this would be a piece of cake. But then someone raised their hand. It was one of the older women. When I nodded at her, she cleared her throat and moved her long, graying hair behind her ear. Titling her slightly too-large head so far that her elongated earring trickled down the center of her cleavage.

“Yes, Clarisse?” I sighed.

She shot me a tight smile, muttered a, “Thank you,” and then sat up even straighter than she already was to launch into the whole, “I think this whole line is a little risqué for something inspired by the office.” She explained in a harsh voice.

I raised an eyebrow. She was just the kind of conservative women my age loved to ignore. “Well, as is described by these captions,” I started in a confident voice. “This isn’t actually all to be envisioned in an actual office. Some of these are for cocktail hour…” My voice trailed off as I scanned my drawings for the appropriate outfit. “Ah…” I murmured, pointing at the satin crop top and skirt combination designed for, ‘cocktail hour,’ “like this,” I replied.

She nodded slowly, but then replied with, “but what message are you sending middle aged women?” she demanded.

The entire room had become fully engaged in this altercation, their heads moving from her side to mine as they tried their best to catch every word, every quip, and every retort. “Look, Clarisse,” I started. I could just feel the entire room on my side. “First of all, YSL does not market to woman your age. It markets more to women closer to my age, in their twenties: old enough to afford us, but still young enough to want to wear one of these,” I pointed at a high wasted skinny cut pant, “to a business meeting. It’s the perfect combination of chic and classic. A woman should be able to express herself.” She explained.

But Clarisse was adamant. “Yes, at the expense of her credibility right?”

I could tell that by the fact that she was raising her voice that she was more than a little put off by my backhanded insult that meant she was much too old to have an opinion about any of this anyway. “If you believe a woman loses or gains credibility based off of what she is wearing, and not as a measure of her actual work ethic or mental value, than I don’t know what to tell you, because a fashion line isn’t going to fix the problem that you have in mind.” I replied in a harsh voice.

I could have sworn I thought I saw the woman practically melt right in front of me, she was so embarrassed. Her face turned an odd crimson color as she hastily nodded and returned her attention to the blank notepad in front of her. I could almost feel the entire room fawning all over me as I stepped back and adjusted my attention to address the entire room.

“All right. So, there you have it. This is my line. Although I do not completely agree with Clarisse, I do understand the issue she brings up. Women will not be taken seriously unless they demand to be taken seriously, in whatever form they chose. Men can wear what they want, as long as it’s a classy look, so why can’t women have the same courtesy extended to them. With this line, I am saying, ‘No one will judge you for being who you are,’” I finished to a room full of applause.

After standing there, taking it all in for, what some would say, was a second or two too long, I replaced the covers on all of the diagrams and then took my seat, graciously accepting the nods of approval from all of the board members. After that, there was one short presentation about a proposed new shoe line and some other thing, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was thinking more so about how I was going to convince mother and father to let me go to a club tomorrow night. My best friend (Jessica, a girl I met in the little amount of time that I was at art school in downtown Paris was a DJ at one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. Well, she was about to be one… and she wanted me to come out and support her on her first night. The thought of finally having a place to wear my gold, sequined dress, or finally having an excuse to actually go out, was enough to make me brave my harsh parents for long enough to ask them to let me go. I knew the possibility that they would reject this idea was high, but something about attempting to sneak past the guards and the security system in the middle of the night was a little more than I was willing to do.

The sounds of people shuffling around wrenched me out of my own thoughts. “All right. If no one has anything else to add…” Clarisse muttered as she closed her own notebook.

But no one responded, because, of course, there was nothing else to add.