Allure of the Wolf (Seraphine Thomas Book 2) (15 page)

“And yet you are still so damn popular,” Tristan teased, giving me a wink so I knew it was really just a joke. I threw back my head and laughed as he put the pouring caps on all the bottles, checking with the teams what they ordered and with Vlad everything was paid, yadda, yadda. The chatter in the bar rang in my ears. The music was quiet now, but shot glasses tapping the bar, people talking and figuring out their plans, everyone getting situated was a lot of
noise
.

My wolf didn’t like it.

It turned out that if he spilled while rushing to pour, that team automatically won. Not sure how that could even be proven in a club with all this going on, but the bar was spotless and dry at the moment.

“Basically you’re watching for anyone tossing their shot aside and not drinking it,” Vlad explained while Tristan finalized the last few details. “Making sure the right person goes next, no one’s cheating, or any rule breaking.”

“Got it.” I took a deep breath and checked I had a good view of all the team starts. I realized the outskirts were a little hard to see sitting down so I ended up standing on the crate.

“I love a woman who takes fairness seriously,” Vlad joked.

“Hey, if you’re going to do something, do it right, and now that I know this is like his big show and he hasn’t lost a game yet, you’re damn right I’m going to make sure no one’s cheating him,” I threw back, not losing focus as I studied the players, scoping out who might be the problems.

There were a few I mentally flagged who looked more than excited for a challenge or game but as if they were up to something. Not good.

I ignored Vlad’s deep laugh as Tristan filled the last of the starting shot glasses and set down the bottles on the bar in front of the team’s area. He nodded to someone, and I flinched when a fog horn went off. Damn, those things were always annoying but stuff like that now that I was a wolf was like getting punched in the face.

The
second
the first empty shot glass hit the bar, Tristan was off and damn was he
fast
. It was like a blur darting back and forth across the floor. Part of me wanted to just watch him but that would have made me busy… And I had a job to do.

Five shots in I saw some idiot toss his drink over his shoulder—onto his friend’s white shirt. Good thing it was green because it was absinthe. “Disqualified!” I hollered and in the blink of an eye, Vlad snagged the bottle and shot glasses, getting right back out of Tristan’s way as security cut in front of that team.

Nice system!

One kid a few rounds later reached for his glass, hitting it funny, and it went sliding off the bar onto the floor. I called that one an accident and Vlad quickly replaced the glass so Tristan could re-pour. The only other team I disqualified had some other chick try to reach over and “help” them with their shots. Moron. She just cost her friends over two hundred dollars. I’d be pissed at her.

People were starting to slow down as Tristan was laying bottles flat and it was obvious he was in the clear.
Wow!

The fog horn sounded when the last team was finished and Tristan hadn’t missed refilling a single glass. I leapt at Tristan when he turned to me, smiling, and he easily caught me, swinging me around.

“That was
amazing
!” I exclaimed, peppering his face with kisses. “You were seriously fast. How come I’ve never seen you move like that before?”

“A man likes to take his time with his lady,” he chuckled, but his eyes were filled with heat.

I cleared my throat and nodded, sliding down against him as he set me on my feet. “Maybe he shouldn’t always. There might be times when speed like that could be fun.” I gave a shrug and Tristan blinked at me a moment before leaning in and pressing his lips to my ear.

“Are you saying especially after our conversation earlier that you’re not all that experienced, Sera?”

“Not particularly,” I muttered. “I mean, I’ve done it in more than missionary and on a bed, but just the office a few times over a desk. What we did at Vlad’s with Riley was the craziest. With Noah kind of too, but yeah, can’t come up with a top-ten kinky list or anything.”

His breath hitched as he gave me an evil grin. “We will fix that and
soon
.”

“Okay,” I snickered, wondering what I’d unleashed by bringing any of that up.

Curious maybe was a better word. Yes,
curious
to see what was to come.

Davis was cheering in the corner of the bar for Tristan and I could finally see her better now that she wasn’t blocked by a security guard. Vlad walked over to her with the disqualified team’s alcohol bottles, already recapped and wrapped.

“What’s that about?” I asked Tristan, nodding towards them.

“Your parting gift for judging. Vlad gives the bottles to the judges for catching cheaters, plus a bottle of something banned from street sales that he can get with his special license.”

“Oh, cool. Well you pick that one out. We should start stocking our own bar at home now that I know I like watching you mix drinks,” I purred, running my hands over his perfectly toned pecs.

“I’ll make sure to get the ingredients for your Cherry Ice,” he promised before sneaking in a quick kiss. Vlad was suddenly there again snapping a picture of us with his phone.

“May I Instagram this?” he asked as his fingers flew across the keys. I glanced over his shoulder and read what his comment was with the picture.

“Our own Tristan Saunders celebrates another Beat Off Service victory with his sweetheart and guest judge, Seraphine Thomas. Congrats, Tristan! Better luck next time, contestants.”

“I don’t even have an Instagram account,” I hedged, glancing at Tristan to ask what he thought.

“It’s fine,” he promised with a wink. “We do it every time we run the contest. The only difference is Vlad added in you’re my
sweetheart,
which I’m sure people are already tweeting about.”

I glanced incredulously between the two of them. “Why would anyone care we’re together?”

There were a few seconds before they both started laughing. I still didn’t get it until Vlad showed me on his phone that #beatoffservice was one of the top trending hash tags in Chicagoland.

“Shit,” I hissed, totally not getting what the big deal was. “I mean, five grand is great and all, but why’s this such a big deal? I’ve seen other contests for cars and stuff.”

“Because we do it a four times a week,” Tristan explained. My jaw fell open, doing the math in my head. He made
eight grand
a
week
just from doing this challenge thing.

“Shit, I’m so not pushing to split groceries with you anymore,” I muttered, rubbing at my eyebrow as I gazed out at the teams breaking up now that the fun was over. They got that many people four times a week? It seemed unfathomable.

“You shouldn’t,” Vlad agreed, smirking as he sent out his message. “There are twelve other clubs that do the contest as well. Think of it as constant St. Patrick’s Day and fraternity competitions all in one. It drives up business, people keep thinking
they
will be the ones to win, and they do sometimes at other clubs.”

“But not here. The owners make bets, it’s a thing. Humans trying to outrace paranormals to prove they’re faster, still better than us, whatever. It’s a hype we’re riding.”

Vlad slid his phone in his pocket and unrolled his shirt sleeves now that his bar-backing duties were done. “Until it fades and then we’ll start a new one. Such is the way of business.”

“You guys have fun with that,” I snickered. “All I see is potential alcohol poisoning, DUIs, and hangovers.”

“No one entered is allowed to keep their keys, security takes them,” Tristan assured me with a solemn nod. The he pointed out to me where security was escorting all the contestants to the roped off area that led upstairs overlooking the dance floor. “And they can’t just leave right after. They’re escorted to the VIP area and we’ve got water and snacks for them. We call them cabs even and their cars stay in the private lot until they pick them up the next day on us.”

“An accident or injury because of the contest would be devastating,” Vlad agreed. “We take every precaution.”

“Okay then, well, I’m out of concerns, still not my thing, but I’ll fill in as a judge any time you need one.” They both smiled at my support so I felt like I’d said the right thing… For once.

Hey, it happened from time to time.

Rarely.

9

The next morning I was tired but Davis and I had called it an early night for clubbing so it wasn’t too bad, plus I slept in a bit, being a
bum
and waking up at nine. I rolled over to find Tristan’s side of the bed cold… And satiny? Blinking fully awake, I saw there was a midnight blue satin pajama set on the sheets with a note.

I know we’re working today on your case stuff, but I’m counting that as a hot date for just us. A date comes with presents and this is mine for you. I saw it last week and it matches your eyes so perfectly I just knew I would give anything to see you in it. I’m making breakfast, there will be lots of coffee… Wear it for me?

—Tristan

I smiled. Last week, huh? That meant it had nothing to do with our fight and obviously he wasn’t still upset with me about Noah if he was giving me a gift. Yeah, I could wear it for him.

Even if there wasn’t much to
it
. I shook my head as I held it up. Yeah, not much at all. Tiny satin shorts that would barely cover my ass and a camisole that had lace over my breasts until the nipple where the satin started so it wasn’t indecent. Damn, it was beautiful though. I jumped out of bed and took a quick shower, making sure I was pretty everywhere, then I did the unthinkable—I styled my hair twice in two days.

I know, I know, sounds like no big deal but when a woman had tons of long, thick blonde hair that was not an easy task. But modern inventions helped. Last night I’d curled it, today I used the diffuser attachment on my blow-dryer with some gel and went with that wavy, wet, bed-head, just-fucked look.

Or at least that was what I called it. Plus, it was
much
faster. I threw on a little eyeliner, some mascara, and his present, smiling when it fit perfectly, before hurrying down the stairs.

“You slept in, I’m glad,” he greeted, turning around from the stove. His eyes went wide and he actually dropped the French toast that had been on his spatula. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I like your present too,” I purred, tracing my fingers over the lace. “Thank you, Tristan. It was really sweet.” I walked over to him, trying to be sexy, but more likely looking like an idiot bouncing on her toes, and gave him a peck on the lips. “I wish I always got to wake up to notes like that and planned fun when I have to work on weekends.”

“Not too much?” he murmured as he set down the spatula, the toast forgotten on the floor and moved his arms around my waist. “I didn’t want you to be upset I was pushing myself into your case work or something.”

“No, not at
all
,” I swore as I ran my hands up his naked, toned chest. “This is working
with
me and being amazing. Any and
every
way you can fit yourself in with what I’m doing,
do it
, Tristan. I’m not good at fitting things together always. It’s like separate compartments in my mind and I have to learn to see things more as open rooms that can flow back and forth. But if
you
see a way, please assume you’re welcome to join me.”

“I think that is what I’ve needed to hear more than anything,” he sighed, leaning his forehead down to mine. “I’ve been waiting for you to say you’re ready or have time for me, trying to stay out of your way, or zip in to help like Vlad last night. I never wanted to push so I just waited.”

“Hey, we’re new,
this
is new,” I reminded him. I kissed him again, and we started to really get into it until I smelled something burning. “Is that my breakfast?”

“Fuck,” he growled. In a flash I was sitting on the cool, black with purple flecks granite counter next to the stove with an iced latte in hand and then he dumped a skillet of eggs into the sink. “Sorry. Okay, let me start again.”

“There’s enough French toast there,” I chuckled, nodding to the plate. “We don’t need eggs too.”

“I wanted you to have options.”

“I like what I see right in front of me.” I reached out with my toe and poked him in the ass so he understood I wasn’t just talking about the food. The smile I got back from him was worth feeling like a dork for saying such a corny line. “Shit, I forgot to check with Monroe.” I hopped off the counter, grabbed my phone with my charger, and made the call.

“Thomas, I’m glad you called, I wanted to discuss the other day,” he said when he answered.

“Noah’s on board, Chief. We’ll work it all out once his credentials are in,” I mumbled, still not all that happy with my boss. Even talking to him almost made me lose my appetite, but the smells coming from the French toast brought me back.

He sighed heavily and I found myself fidgeting as Tristan set everything out on the counter so we could eat. “No, about what you said to me in my office regarding the fight.”