passing second.
So she wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his head down until she could reach his lips to kiss him.
At first, he froze, gave her no response at all. His lips remained closed against hers and he didn’t reach for her like he had before. He didn’t wrap his arms around her and draw her closer against that gorgeous, hard body.
But she wasn’t giving up. She let her tongue slide against the seam of his lips, licking, begging for entrance.
He shuddered at the touch and she felt his hands brush against her sides before grabbing her by the shoulders…
And holding her away from him.
“So now I’m a novelty fuck, right, Carrie?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “A novelty fuck? What the freaking hell is a novelty fuck?”
“I’m different. Some women get off on that.”
Her lips parted to tell him he was freaking clueless about women if he thought she wanted him just because of what he could do. If anything, she should be hauling ass out of here.
Then she took a good look at him, at the expression in his eyes.
57
Stephanie Julian
“Wait. You knew someone like that, didn’t you?”
His head tilted back and his mouth flattened even more. He didn’t need to answer.
She could read it in his eyes.
“What a bitch .”
He watched her for a second before nodding. “Yeah, she was.”
“How did she find out about you?”
“I stupidly told her.”
“You’re not stupid.”
Her immediate defense of him made the hard line of his mouth soften just a little bit. “No, maybe naïve would be a better word to describe my relationship with Jenny. I met her at a Fringe bar. She knew the scene, knew a few mutual acquaintances. What I didn’t know was that she needed a shapeshifter for her belt.”
“You mean… Geez, what a slut!” Then she realized what he wasn’t saying. “Wait…
You think I want you now because I know what you are? That that’s the only reason I want you?”
He dropped his gaze for a brief second and when his returned to hers, she swore she felt the burn of it inside. “I don’t honestly know what you want, Carrie. And I don’t think you do either.”
58
Size Matters
Chapter Four
“What the hell are you still doing here, Care? Go the fuck home already.” Bill Dailey dropped into the chair at the opposite cubicle in the offices of the Weekly News Journal , gnawing, as always on a toothpick. At forty-five, his dark good looks had weathered, making the man even more handsome than he’d been in his younger days.
Not that Carrie had ever considered dating him.
The guy was married to the paper. And to his toothpicks. Bill had quit smoking nearly five years ago but he couldn’t seem to quit chewing the picks down to splinters.
One of these days, he was going to choke on the damn things.
Carrie sighed as she minimized the story on her desktop. Glancing at the clock on the far wall of the newsroom, she realized it was close to eight p.m. and no one else remained on the floor.
“I’m working,” she said. “What’s your excuse?”
“When I signed my soul to this paper, they chained me to my desk. I didn’t see that clause in your employment contract.”
Damn, the man had a devastating smile. Too bad he barely ever used it when he held court at his u-shaped desk at the rear of the room. One side held a thirty-inch screen where he oversaw layout. Paper covered the opposite side—page proofs, article drafts, photo proofs. The last side, the one facing the newsroom, would have put a candy store to shame.
The joke was that the candy drew in unsuspecting prey then Bill ensnared them in his web and devoured them.
59
Stephanie Julian
It was true the Journal had a high turnover rate among staff, though honestly, that wasn’t all due to Bill’s usually gruff nature. Some writers just didn’t have the talent for making the impossible seem probable. Or at least amusing.
Bill was a damn good editor. He had awards filling his desk drawers from stints
So she wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his head down until she could reach his lips to kiss him.
At first, he froze, gave her no response at all. His lips remained closed against hers and he didn’t reach for her like he had before. He didn’t wrap his arms around her and draw her closer against that gorgeous, hard body.
But she wasn’t giving up. She let her tongue slide against the seam of his lips, licking, begging for entrance.
He shuddered at the touch and she felt his hands brush against her sides before grabbing her by the shoulders…
And holding her away from him.
“So now I’m a novelty fuck, right, Carrie?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “A novelty fuck? What the freaking hell is a novelty fuck?”
“I’m different. Some women get off on that.”
Her lips parted to tell him he was freaking clueless about women if he thought she wanted him just because of what he could do. If anything, she should be hauling ass out of here.
Then she took a good look at him, at the expression in his eyes.
57
Stephanie Julian
“Wait. You knew someone like that, didn’t you?”
His head tilted back and his mouth flattened even more. He didn’t need to answer.
She could read it in his eyes.
“What a bitch .”
He watched her for a second before nodding. “Yeah, she was.”
“How did she find out about you?”
“I stupidly told her.”
“You’re not stupid.”
Her immediate defense of him made the hard line of his mouth soften just a little bit. “No, maybe naïve would be a better word to describe my relationship with Jenny. I met her at a Fringe bar. She knew the scene, knew a few mutual acquaintances. What I didn’t know was that she needed a shapeshifter for her belt.”
“You mean… Geez, what a slut!” Then she realized what he wasn’t saying. “Wait…
You think I want you now because I know what you are? That that’s the only reason I want you?”
He dropped his gaze for a brief second and when his returned to hers, she swore she felt the burn of it inside. “I don’t honestly know what you want, Carrie. And I don’t think you do either.”
58
Size Matters
Chapter Four
“What the hell are you still doing here, Care? Go the fuck home already.” Bill Dailey dropped into the chair at the opposite cubicle in the offices of the Weekly News Journal , gnawing, as always on a toothpick. At forty-five, his dark good looks had weathered, making the man even more handsome than he’d been in his younger days.
Not that Carrie had ever considered dating him.
The guy was married to the paper. And to his toothpicks. Bill had quit smoking nearly five years ago but he couldn’t seem to quit chewing the picks down to splinters.
One of these days, he was going to choke on the damn things.
Carrie sighed as she minimized the story on her desktop. Glancing at the clock on the far wall of the newsroom, she realized it was close to eight p.m. and no one else remained on the floor.
“I’m working,” she said. “What’s your excuse?”
“When I signed my soul to this paper, they chained me to my desk. I didn’t see that clause in your employment contract.”
Damn, the man had a devastating smile. Too bad he barely ever used it when he held court at his u-shaped desk at the rear of the room. One side held a thirty-inch screen where he oversaw layout. Paper covered the opposite side—page proofs, article drafts, photo proofs. The last side, the one facing the newsroom, would have put a candy store to shame.
The joke was that the candy drew in unsuspecting prey then Bill ensnared them in his web and devoured them.
59
Stephanie Julian
It was true the Journal had a high turnover rate among staff, though honestly, that wasn’t all due to Bill’s usually gruff nature. Some writers just didn’t have the talent for making the impossible seem probable. Or at least amusing.
Bill was a damn good editor. He had awards filling his desk drawers from stints
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