Shifting Michelle's Boundaries (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (6 page)

Jack smiled. “I’m not expecting anything much to come of it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know I came on hard about it at first, but really as long as you’re having a good time that’s enough for me, man.”

Craig hadn’t expected that. He patted Jack’s arm. “Thanks, man. Means a lot.”

“Of course, if she mentions that she’s into two guys at once…”

He laughed and stood. “Fuck you, Jack.”

“Nooo, that’s not how it works. We fuck
her
. I’m not doing it if you can’t get that straight.”

Craig just shook his head and headed to the front door. A car had just pulled up.

* * * *

While Craig went to answer the door, Jack headed to the kitchen. All their important meetings, whether pack related or not, happened in the kitchen. It’s where the coffee was.

From the smell, Stefan, Tate, and four other pack members had arrived. Craig was thanking one of them for returning his phone and wallet. Jack moved the dirty plates into the sink and then stood by the door, ready to greet the visitors.

Stefan came first, followed by Mitch and Paul, then two other, newer members. They all gave Jack a nod and a smile, though in Paul’s case it was forced. Jack couldn’t blame him. He’d had to beat him in a fight to prove his worthiness to join the pack, and Jack had made him look like a weak fool. His pack partner, Mitch, found it very amusing and used every opportunity he could to mock Paul about it.

“This had better be worth waking me at 1:00 a.m.,” Stefan said with a wink as he passed.

“Trust me, I don’t miss sleep unless something’s important,” Jack said.

Craig came in next, followed closely by Tate. Even if someone had no idea of the pack’s structure, they’d certainly guess at him being the leader. Closer to seven feet than six, and built like a professional body builder, Tate turned heads wherever he went. Since shifters tended to mirror their sizes in both forms, he made quite the monstrous wolf, too. More than once he’d had his picture in the paper, along with headlines reading ‘Giant wolf terrorizes local wildlife, experts baffled.’

Tate greeted Jack with a crushing handshake and a big grin. Despite some of the recruits being unsure about having a cat shifter in their ranks, Tate was all for it. “This is the twenty first century,” he’d said. “We move with the times or we become extinct.”

“How are you, puss-puss?” He still liked to mock, though.

Jack grinned and punched his pack leader in the arm. “Fuck you, Fido.”

Tate laughed and took his place at the head of the table. “So, what’s all this about.”

“Well, as you know, Stefan sent me off to settle a disturbance earlier tonight.” Jack sat at the opposite end of the table. “Two guys were making a scene, so I put them in their place.”

“You mean you beat the crap out of them,” Stefan said with a smirk.

“Most certainly, yes. Before that, though, one asked who the pack leader was, saying that his crew was looking to take over. I assumed he was a new guy in Mickey’s pack, and didn’t know the lay of the land.”

Tate’s smile disappeared, replaced with a scowl. “Go on.”

“After I’d…subdued them, I questioned one of them. He’d never heard of Mickey.”

“So a new crew, then?”

“Looks like.” Jack held up his hands. “Now, I don’t know much about it yet, but I thought it was worth bringing up.”

“Definitely,” Tate said. “Thanks, Jack.”

“You didn’t try and tail them back to their pack?” Paul said, his contempt clear.

Jack turned to his biggest fan and raised an eyebrow. “Of course I did. Funnily enough, though, men you’ve just beaten the shit out of tend to be a little paranoid on their walk home.” He smiled as Mitch laughed and punched Paul in the arm. “They flagged a cab as soon as they could, and by the time I’d got back to my car the trail was cold.”

“You could have—”

“Shut up, Paul,” Tate growled. “You couldn’t have done better.”

Paul colored and stared at the table. If he hadn’t been the biggest thorn in Jack’s side, he almost would have felt sorry for him.

“All right, then,” Tate continued. “We’ve got a possible threat to the pack. You all know what that means. All tasks are to be performed with your partners. I don’t care if it’s surveillance or picking up someone’s clothes from a drop box, you do it in twos. If your partner is unable to, for instance if he’s fucking some chick in a hotel room…” He winked at Craig, who glared at Stefan. “You call in and we’ll reassign. Clear?”

A round of “Yes, boss,” and one “I’m going to kill you, Stefan,” sounded simultaneously, and everyone but Tate rose to leave.

“Head on out. I want a word with Jack.”

They all did as they were told, leaving Jack and Tate sitting in the now-quiet kitchen. They waited until the front door closed again. Given that a shifter’s hearing was enhanced, when someone wanted a quiet word everyone else had to go a little farther away than normal. Tate glanced around, then leant toward Jack.

“These two guys,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “Was one of ’em blond? Liked knives?”

Jack frowned. “Yeah, you know him?”

“Thought I smelled him on you.” Tate swore. “Knew him way back when. In my last pack, before I started my own. Thought he was dead, actually.”

“Nope, though I brought him a little closer.”

The boss chuckled. “Look, it’s probably nothing major, but keep an eye out, especially for him. No need to worry the others yet, though.”

“Sure thing, Tate.”

“Knew I could rely on you.” Tate reached across the table and shook Jack’s hand. “There may be an opening coming up in the top rank of the pack soon. I think you and Craig would do well.”

Jack tried not to grin. The top rank was reserved for Tate’s most trusted pairs. Him and Stefan, Mitch and Paul, and one other pair. Jack wondered whether someone was leaving, or if Tate was simply expanding the tiers. It wasn’t a time to enquire about such things, though.

“That, uh, that’d be great, boss.”

“Well, you two deserve it. You two are the smartest guys in the pack. You know how to handle yourselves, too. Never seen a pair work together as well.”

“With respect, boss, why aren’t you telling Craig yet?”

Tate tapped a finger on the table. “He’s got a lot on his plate already, and I don’t want him to feel pressured into taking on more work. If you break it to him, though, you’ll get his honest opinion, and that’s the only one I care about.”

Jack smirked. “Crafty for a dog, aren’t ya?”

Tate laughed and stood. “Keep your eyes peeled, okay?”

“Will do.”

Jack walked him to the door and waved the small group off, then headed back inside with Craig. They both headed back to the kitchen, and Jack flipped on the coffee machine while Craig began rifling through the fridge.

“So, what did Tate want?”

“He was talking about us maybe moving up a rank.”

“What?” Craig straightened so fast that his head smashed into the roof of the fridge. “Damn it!”

“Whoa, calm down. It’s not
that
big of a deal.”

“That’s what you think.” He dipped back into the fridge long enough to pull out a couple of steaks. “No wonder he didn’t want Mitch and Paul to hear.”

“Huh?”

“The only way to the top rank is through dead-man’s boots. Someone has to leave, or be demoted.”

“And?” Jack poured two coffees and dumped them onto the table. “Maybe it’s the other two guys.”

“Danny and Carl? No way. They’re practically Stefan and Tate’s bodyguards. No, it has to be Mitch and Paul.” Craig chewed his lip. “Kinda not surprised, either. Paul’s a dick.”

“Yeah, but Mitch is a great guy.”

“Doesn’t matter, man. If one is demoted, both are.”

“Ouch.”

Craig shrugged. “It’s the way of the pack. You’d know if you paid more attention in the meetings.”

“And miss all that napping time?” Jack grinned. “I guess I’ll have to, once we’re promoted. Assuming you want to move up, anyway.”

“Yeah, sure I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“The way Tate tells it, he’s worried you’re overworked as it is.”

Craig slapped the steaks into a frying pan. “That’s just this current building project. Once it’s done I’ll have more free time. Besides, I’m the foreman. If I get too busy I go and slack off.”

“True enough. Anyway, enough about this. Tell me about Michelle.” Jack winked. “Spare no detail, no matter how obscene.”

The next day had arrived too soon, and Michelle’s job seemed to be draining what was left of her dwindling energy through her fingertips. She finished writing her third essay of an e-mail of the morning and sat back in her chair, grasping her coffee cup like it was a life preserver. So much for being a graphic artist. These days she spent more time typing than drawing.

“Only six more hours,” she muttered into her mug.

Not for the first time, she considered just walking out the front door and never coming back. Maybe stopping at the manager’s office on the way to let her know what she really thought about her. No doubt she’d get a cheer for that, albeit a quiet one. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Bills didn’t pay themselves.

It wasn’t the worst job in the world, anyway. It certainly wasn’t the
best
either, but her hours were flexible, the lunch break was long, and she didn’t have to work weekends. Add to that the fact that she could wear pretty much whatever she wanted and it made for a good few reasons to hang around.

Michelle finished the dregs of her coffee and dumped the cup back onto the desk. Technically she was now on a fifteen-minute break, so the manager couldn’t complain if she checked her e-mails, right? Even so, she peered over the top of her cubicle’s divider before risking it.

Nothing but e-mails for penis pills and mail-order brides. Was Michelle a gender-neutral name and nobody had told her? She signed out again and went back to her work. She hadn’t really been expecting anything, but she had hoped that maybe a certain man would e-mail again. It was a slim chance, given that the whole point of the website they’d met through was to avoid repeat encounters, but it could happen. Couldn’t it?

Yeah, right.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she jumped out of her chair. She spun to find Alison leaning against the corner of her cubicle. She was wearing a very formal-looking pantsuit and had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Not quite how Michelle usually saw her.

“Hey, cutie.”

“What are you doing here?” Michelle asked.

“I’ve got a job interview!” Alison bounced up and down. “How cool would that be?”

“But you’re not an artist.”

She rolled her eyes. “Secretaries don’t need to be.”

“Oh, right.” Michelle grinned. “Sorry, bit frazzled today.”

“Wonder why.” Alison winked and headed off toward the manager’s office. “Lunch?”

“Sure. See you then.”

Michelle watched her enter the office and close the door behind her. Now that would make for a more entertaining work day, certainly. Better lunch breaks, too.

She turned back to her computer, but Alison’s sarcastic comment about Craig had got her mind whirring again, and she couldn’t focus on what she doing. Maybe she should make the first move. A quick e-mail to the guy, asking if he wanted to get a drink sometime. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

Unless he said no. After all, he hadn’t seemed interested in anything else last night, had he? Once the fun was over, there had been no real attempt at conversation from either of them. She’d washed up, dressed, and left. He hadn’t tried to stop her.

Gah. Why is this stuff so hard?

Her lunch break came far too slowly, but once it did a friendly face was waiting for her beside her cubicle. Alison was all smiles, but refused to divulge any information until they were sitting at one of the tables outside a local coffee shop.

“Well?” Michelle asked. “The suspense is killing me.”

“I got the job!”

“That’s great, Ally!” She leant over the table to hug her. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow morning. They were in dire need, apparently. It’s only temporary at the moment, but I’ll take what I can get.”

The waiter appeared, and they both ordered sandwiches and juice, then discussed the job while they waited for their food. Once it arrived they switched to men.

“So,” Alison said, her fingers tapping on the rim of her glass. “E-mailed him yet?”

Michelle colored. “What’s makes you think I want to e-mail him?”

“Oh, please. A guy rocks your world and you don’t even
consider
it? Pfft.”

“Okay, so I thought about it. It’d be interesting to see what he’s like outside of the bedroom.”

“You mean clothed? Where’s the fun in that?”

Michelle snorted. “Cut it out, you.”

“So e-mail him, then.” Alison shrugged and stabbed at her sandwich with its own toothpick. “Just say something like, uh, you had a great time, and you’re wondering if he’s interested in seeing a movie.” She grinned. “If that doesn’t work send him a picture of your tits and get ready for round two.”