never wanted her, and would never want her. Then Liam had popped up in her life, flipping her entire notion of herself on its ass, and Wulf had walked through the door, and had seen that change in her. She had already become a sex kitten once, for Liam. She had the practice time under her belt. If she could put it into use against Wulf, who knew how far she could take things.
God, I want to see how far we can go.
Katya didn't want to wait a week. She didn't want to wait another second. What if he disappeared? What if old-Katya reared her ugly head? She didn't want to take the chance. She wanted to be that girl from the made-up-profile again, so she decided to go for it. She took a deep breath, then reached under her dress. Felt around for the edges of her underwear, then dragged them past her hips. Let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them, then balled them up in her fist.
I can do this. I can really do this. What's the worst that can happen? He laughs at me? So what, then I take the train to Liam's house and work out this sexual tension with him.
When she came out of the bathroom, the first thing she noticed was that some shading had been pulled low over the windows. They were sheer, but they dulled the glare and made it almost impossible to see outside clearly.
Then she saw that Wulf wasn't sitting at the bar anymore. He'd moved to an old piano that was tucked against a wall, taking up a lot of space in the narrow bar. He was plunking out a tune, something she didn't recognize, though she was surprised he could play. He sounded decent and she stood behind his shoulder for a moment, watching his fingers move over the keys.
“I thought you were going to be in there all night,” he finally said, though he didn't bother looking back at her.
“It was two minutes, max,” she replied, though she still felt a little breathless. He must have heard, because the notes on the piano died down, slowing to a stop. He climbed to his feet, throwing back the last of his brandy, then he put the glass on top of the instrument before turning to face her.
“More like five. You sound nervous, Tocci,” he called her out. She nodded.
“I am.”
“Why? Scared of me?”
“Not scared.”
“Then what?”
She took a deep breath. A second one. Wouldn't let her eyes move away from his as she lifted her hand.
“I don't want to wait a week,” she said plainly, all while she tucked her hot pink panties into his chest pocket, crushing the pocket square he had there.
Wulf glanced down at the fabric poking out. It only took him a fraction of a second to figure out what she'd just done. Then his lips twitched, quirked up into a sly little smile, and he raised his arm, snapping his fingers.
“Tom,” he said, not looking away from her. The bartender cleared his throat. “Ten minutes, please. I need the room.”
Nothing else was said. The bus boy stopped clearing tables and made his way to the back of the bar, disappearing through a heavy wooden door. The bartender went and locked the entrance, then quickly went through the same door as the bus boy, and Katya could hear it get locked behind him. They were completely alone.
“Do you live close by?” she asked. Wulf pulled her underwear away from his blazer.
“Not close enough.”
She watched as her panties were folded up, then shoved into his pants pocket, and she halfway wondered if she'd ever see them again.
“When I said I didn't want to wait a week, I didn't mean I couldn't wait five more minutes,” she tried to joke, then her breath caught in her throat when his hands smoothed over her hips.
“Pity, because I can't.”
He forced her backwards, pressing his body against her. He wasn't overwhelmingly tall, maybe six foot, but his strong physique was intimidating, and his sheer presence filled the entire room. Made her feel small and helpless and overwhelmingly feminine. She braced her hands on his forearms, allowing him to move her so her back was pressed into
God, I want to see how far we can go.
Katya didn't want to wait a week. She didn't want to wait another second. What if he disappeared? What if old-Katya reared her ugly head? She didn't want to take the chance. She wanted to be that girl from the made-up-profile again, so she decided to go for it. She took a deep breath, then reached under her dress. Felt around for the edges of her underwear, then dragged them past her hips. Let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them, then balled them up in her fist.
I can do this. I can really do this. What's the worst that can happen? He laughs at me? So what, then I take the train to Liam's house and work out this sexual tension with him.
When she came out of the bathroom, the first thing she noticed was that some shading had been pulled low over the windows. They were sheer, but they dulled the glare and made it almost impossible to see outside clearly.
Then she saw that Wulf wasn't sitting at the bar anymore. He'd moved to an old piano that was tucked against a wall, taking up a lot of space in the narrow bar. He was plunking out a tune, something she didn't recognize, though she was surprised he could play. He sounded decent and she stood behind his shoulder for a moment, watching his fingers move over the keys.
“I thought you were going to be in there all night,” he finally said, though he didn't bother looking back at her.
“It was two minutes, max,” she replied, though she still felt a little breathless. He must have heard, because the notes on the piano died down, slowing to a stop. He climbed to his feet, throwing back the last of his brandy, then he put the glass on top of the instrument before turning to face her.
“More like five. You sound nervous, Tocci,” he called her out. She nodded.
“I am.”
“Why? Scared of me?”
“Not scared.”
“Then what?”
She took a deep breath. A second one. Wouldn't let her eyes move away from his as she lifted her hand.
“I don't want to wait a week,” she said plainly, all while she tucked her hot pink panties into his chest pocket, crushing the pocket square he had there.
Wulf glanced down at the fabric poking out. It only took him a fraction of a second to figure out what she'd just done. Then his lips twitched, quirked up into a sly little smile, and he raised his arm, snapping his fingers.
“Tom,” he said, not looking away from her. The bartender cleared his throat. “Ten minutes, please. I need the room.”
Nothing else was said. The bus boy stopped clearing tables and made his way to the back of the bar, disappearing through a heavy wooden door. The bartender went and locked the entrance, then quickly went through the same door as the bus boy, and Katya could hear it get locked behind him. They were completely alone.
“Do you live close by?” she asked. Wulf pulled her underwear away from his blazer.
“Not close enough.”
She watched as her panties were folded up, then shoved into his pants pocket, and she halfway wondered if she'd ever see them again.
“When I said I didn't want to wait a week, I didn't mean I couldn't wait five more minutes,” she tried to joke, then her breath caught in her throat when his hands smoothed over her hips.
“Pity, because I can't.”
He forced her backwards, pressing his body against her. He wasn't overwhelmingly tall, maybe six foot, but his strong physique was intimidating, and his sheer presence filled the entire room. Made her feel small and helpless and overwhelmingly feminine. She braced her hands on his forearms, allowing him to move her so her back was pressed into
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