Shifters of Grrr 2 (58 page)

"Finalllyyyy –
thank
God," Star gushed with a surprisingly mild slur. "Come in – don't
just stand
out there."

Star half strutted, half stumbled around her living room, the ice cubs in her drink rattling with every step she took.

"I'm going to try
this
on right now," she said.

Sheila held her palm out, desperately trying to catch the dangling ash from Star's cigarette lest it fall onto the costume as the showgirl yanked it from its plastic cover.

"Brilliant!" she announced. "This will look gorgeous on me!"

Star disappeared into her bedroom with Sheila chasing after her.

Carly remained in the living room.
 
She heard zippers zipping, unzipping, then zipping again.
 
She heard bumping and complaining.

Finally Star emerged with Sheila trailing behind her.

Carly had to admit that Star looked like the Diva of all Divas.

"Okay, Sheila, you HAVE outdone yourself," Carly told her friend.

Star stopped stumbling around and then blinked at Carly, studying her intently.

"Who the hell are you?" Star asked, as if finally noticing Carly for the first time.

"Carly.
 
I'm a dealer here at the casino."

Star wagged a finger at her.

"I've heard the name. You're the
slut
that Jason Irvine won at poker."

Sheila looked mortified.

Carly couldn't care less.
 
Clearly this showgirl was off her meds.

"Yeah, that's me."

Star glared at Carly.
 
Then she suddenly threw what was left of her vodka in Carly's face.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, bitch. Jason Irvine is my fiancé."

Chapter 11

Hell hath no fury as a she-wolf scorned.

Carly, being a card dealer, understood the notion of chance, odds and probability.

She knew the
odds
were clearly in favor of the fact that Star Tyler was batshit
loup-de-lune
crazy.
 
Carly also knew the
chances
were good that Jason had been telling her the truth that he was a confirmed bachelor until he bought her from the casino.

But clearly there also was a high
probability
that
something
gave Star reason to believe that she and Jason Irvine were an item. And Carly intended to find out what that something was straight from the Alpha's mouth.

Sheila chased after Carly as she stormed out of Star's suite and headed back to the penthouse.

"Oh geez, what are you going to do?" Sheila asked.

"I haven't quite figured that out yet," Carly said.
 
She pushed the "Up" button to call an elevator.
 
It wasn't arriving fast enough, so Carly kept repeatedly pushing the button, getting angrier and angrier.

Finally, the elevator doors swooped open and both women jumped in. The elevator began to ascend.
 
Carly looked up and caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective ceiling.
 
The woman she saw couldn't hold a candle to Star Tyler.
 

Star was all legs and totally crazy. What unnerved Carly most was the fact that
everyone
knows men think that crazy women are the absolute best in the sack.
 
Men confuse crazy with passionate.
 
Carly was smart enough to know the difference, but the typical male was not. If Jason had ever claimed Star, he would have gotten the ride of his life.
 
And then Star would have turned his life into a complete disaster.

As a man, he probably wouldn't care – at least for a few years.
 
He'd keep going back for the crazy sex, like a heroin addict.

Carly knew she couldn't compete with crazy sex.
 
She was too well-adjusted.
 
So as mad as she was right now, she wasn't about to boil a rabbit in a pot like Glenn Close.
 
But she was pissed-beyond-pissed.

"You have to be careful," Sheila warned her. "As an Alpha, he has the right to any woman he wants, whenever he wants.
 
It's just the way it is, ever was, and ever shall be."

Carly shot her an annoyed look.

"She thinks they are engaged, Sheila."

"Well, you know Star. She's a dancer and an actress and she lives in a bit of a fantasy world.
 
Wait – Carly – you're not in
love
with Jason, are you?"

"What?" Carly scoffed. "Of course not!"

"Are you sure?"

"I just want to protect my interests."

"What interests?"

Carly explained to Sheila about the fact she would be negotiating a contract with the Alpha that defined the terms of her concubineage.

"Okay, I'm impressed," Sheila said. "I didn't realize the deal would make you
rich
!
 
I thought this would just be about the sex."

Carly thought for a moment.

"Should I add language in the contract that applies to our mutual sexual responsibilities?" Carly asked.

Sheila blinked, surprised.

"Well, a contract is a contract.
 
I guess you can put whatever language in there that you want."

"I think I'm going to do just that," Carly mused.

When they got up to the penthouse, Jason was nowhere in sight.
 
The butler was, however, and he informed Carly that the Alpha was downstairs playing roulette.

"You should go, Sheila.
 
I need to handle this one on my own."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure.
 
But first, I need a favor. Could you send over that purple dress you were doing alterations on?
 
Is it finished?"

"Just about.
 
It wouldn't take me long."

"Good. I need to look good tonight."

Jason had told Carly that he wanted to catch a showing of
Loup de Lune
before they left for Palm Springs. Carly knew she needed some fashion ammo.
 
She would never outshine Star Tyler, but she could look as elegant and classy as possible on the arm of her Alpha.

Jason Irvine didn't know it yet, but that night he was about to be torn apart by two she-wolves in heat.

When Jason finally returned to the penthouse just before dinner, he found Carly already dressed and ready for dinner.

Carly's shoulder length, glossy blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her makeup was expertly done, and diamonds glittered on each ear.

The purple dress Sheila had delivered to her was perfect. It had cutouts that bared each shoulder, but a high neck.
 
The dress gathered at her waist and dropped to the floor, with a slit running up her right leg to about mid-thigh.
 
The garment shimmered with a discreet rhinestone here and there.
 
Not so many that she'd be confused with a Vegas showgirl, but it was enough to give her an air of effervescence.
 

The Alpha whistled.

"Damn, you look mighty fine."

"Thanks," she said shortly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing.
 
Why would something be wrong?"

"You look like you've got something on your mind."

"Nope.
 
Not a thing."

Carly was holding off on confronting him.
 
She was waiting for just the right moment.

The Alpha couldn't help but be suspicious all throughout dinner.
 
He attempted to wine and dine his concubine, but she didn't seem impressed with anything he did.

He kept asking her what was wrong, until he began to realize that it shouldn't matter to an Alpha if a woman was being moody.
 

So, he tried a different tactic.
 
He slipped his hand under the table and touched Carly's right knee – the one exposed by the slit in her dress.
 
He ran his fingers higher up until he found where the top of where her nylon ended and where her garter belt began.

Carly felt a mild *snap* pinch her thigh.

With one deft move, Jason had released her stocking from its strap.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Carly reached down and discreetly refastened her nylon in place.

"Just checking your reflexes," the Alpha told her.

Carly made the mistake of looking at him directly for the first time all evening. The hot gaze of his eyes nearly melted her mascara.
 
His then quite obviously let his gaze settle on her lips, causing her to involuntarily lick them.
 
Then his gaze travelled to her cleavage, causing her to take a deep breath and shudder.

"Stop," she said.

"Stop what?" the Alpha asked.

"You know what," she said.

Jason reached back under the table and attempted to run his hand higher up her thigh.
 
She stopped him immediately, but it was starting to be clear to their waiter that some hanky-panky was going on under the tablecloth.

Carly was trying to swat his hand away, but the Alpha was too determined. His hand reached his intended destination, at which point she knew it was futile to stop him.
 
The best she could hope for was to not react too inappropriately in public.

She had faked orgasms before, but Carly hadn't a clue how to pretend to NOT be having an orgasm.

 
The Alpha's fingers were doing the walking, and he was dialing her up as if his index finger was circling on an old-fashioned rotary phone.
 
That is, as if he were dialing up a 1-900 number.

"Just relax," he whispered in her ear.

"How the hell am I supposed to relax?" she whispered. "Geezus!"

She felt her body reacting involuntarily under his control. She was going to come hard and fast, and not-so-politely, if she didn't figure out a way to pace her physical response.

The waiter actually had the nerve to come over to refill their water glasses in the middle of all this.

Carly shot the waiter a dirty look.
 
He clearly was trying to get an eyeful.

Jason looked up at the waiter.

"
Get lost
," he said.

The waiter bolted. He was a Beta, like most everyone else having dinner.

Carly finally figured out how to pace her breathing and how to not cause a scene.
 
This was probably one of the most challenging situations she had ever dealt with.

Her right hand involuntarily slammed on the table, causing the silverware to jump. But she thankfully hadn't pulled a Meg Ryan in
When Harry Met Sally
.
 

When the Alpha knew he had satisfied his concubine, he wiped his hand off and finished his desert.

"I'm putting that in the contract," Carly said.

"What?"

"That move you did – not the fact that you did that to me in public," she said matter-of-factly.
 
"I want a clause that states you have to do that three times a week."

Jason paused before he took the last bite of his cheesecake.

"You really are serious?"

"Weren't you just now? That whole thing felt pretty serious to me," Carly said. "Clearly you've had a lot of practice."

"Fine," he said. "You got it.
 
Three times a week."

Chapter 12

Carly couldn't believe she would have to sit through
Loup De Lune
knowing that its starring diva thought that one day she would be Mrs. Rich Alpha Jason Irvine.

Jason had balcony seats.
 
One would think they were attending a showing of
La Boheme
but once the curtain went up and out came the half-naked dancing girls, all illusions would fade.

Loup De Lune
was Las Vegas tawdry.
 
The show was all skin (and fur – yet to come) and flash and boobs. The Alpha was enjoying himself just a
little
too much.
 
But then he realized his concubine was giving him dirty looks.

Jason cleared his throat.
 
Then he did something unexpectedly sweet. He took Carly's hand in his, kissing the back of it gallantly – like the gentleman he was NOT.
 
Then he did something a little more sexy.
 
He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist.

Carly's insides melted.
 
She was having a hard time staying mad.
 
What with the seven-course orgasm at dinner and now having her hand nuzzled by an Alpha while she sat in the best seat in the theatre, she thought that maybe she should accept her strange state of existence as an Alpha's concubine.

So far it really wasn't all that bad.
 
Except for the delusions of Star Tyler.