Page 5 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Chapter fou r

Cheyenne

I ’m still in my towel when there is a hard knock on my door.

Shit, shit, shit, I need to get presentable.

The knock gets more insistent. Fuck it, nobody here will care.

Junelle is marrying into a loving, but very open family.

I won’t be surprised if I see at least one random person’s boob before the end of this trip.

Opening the door in the oversized towel I brought from home isn’t going to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“Sorry, I’m coming,” I call out, rushing from the bathroom to swing open the door.

Valentino looks from my sunburnt cheeks to my cleavage tan lines before he stomps into the room like he owns the place. I suppose in a roundabout way he does, since this villa belongs to Andrea’s great-grandmother. But shouldn’t I be annoyed that he is storming into my space like this?

“Do you need something?” I ask, holding the top of my towel up and out of the way.

“Yes,” he says rather forcefully, closing the door with his foot.

He sets a pitcher and a plate of food on the fancy dresser without a single care for the wood.

He pours a glass of water and hands it to me.

Our fingers brush together and heat rushes through me.

It’s not the external warmth that has my cheeks humming like a furnace, but a deeper heat that pulses right beside my heart.

“Drink, all of it.” He points at me while he says it in a very superior tone.

I’ve got half a mind to tell him that he can’t boss me around, but I see the look in his eyes.

It isn’t threatening, it’s not even that intimidating, but it’s dark and serious in a way you only read about in books.

I take the first sip under his watchful stare until thirst takes over and I chug the whole glass.

I hadn’t realised I was so dehydrated after getting a bit lost in the book I was reading at the pier.

It’s been so long since I could just sit.

Between curriculum planning, grading papers, writing deadlines during Christmas vacation, and everything else going on, there hasn’t been a moment to breathe since fall break.

That was over six months ago. Maybe I am burnt out.

“There you go,” Valentino murmurs, stepping into my space. His thumb brushes against the corner of my mouth where some of the water spilled down my chin. “Why didn’t you eat anything for lunch?”

“Uh...” I look towards the door next to me and step back. He doesn’t let go of me, though. He follows me until he has me pressed against the wall. “Valentino, this isn’t appropriate.”

I use my sternest voice possible. It doesn’t matter if I think he’s stupid hot, this is red flag behaviour. It’s not okay to push people around and invade their space without their consent. One kiss doesn’t make it okay.

“Nah, sweetheart, I think it is, ’specially after this morning.

Loving and leaving me like that,” he says.

His touch is so gentle on my skin, the rough calluses tickling me, but his voice is like electricity right through my veins.

“I’ve got half a mind to put you on your back and spread those pretty thighs to see if all of you tastes sweet. ”

My nipples tighten. They press into the material of the towel at his words like they are at his beck and call. Humiliation sinks in my stomach and makes my clit tingle .

“Look, this morning was a mistake. I’m here for Junelle’s wedding and I’m not some easy lay, if that’s the impression I gave you. I’m not like that.”

“Good to hear,” he rumbles, voice surprisingly deep. “As for this morning, that’s just the start, and I plan to make you mine by the end of this wedding.”

Valentino takes a deep breath, flexing the muscles in his neck before he steps back.

He raises his hand and smoothes it through his hair before he straightens his clothes like he’s remembered he’s got an appointment or something.

I stare a little dumbfounded. What the fuck does he mean?

Does he think I’m just going to be his fun hole for the holiday?

“Eat the full plate, drink another glass of water,” he instructs me. “I’ll let Junelle know you need a few minutes, but I want to see those pretty nails tonight wrapped around a glass of wine. Be ready to leave at eight.”

I blink like a fool. I’m sorry, did I miss a whole conversation?

I don’t remember agreeing to go on a date.

My heart is stuttering and shrieking and jumping for fucking joy, though.

A man who takes initiative? Yes, please.

I know the bar for real men is on the fucking floor, but this guy can’t be serious.

My stomach rumbles, because of course it does. I haven’t eaten enough today because I’m terrified my dress for the wedding isn’t going to fit .

“Please eat, and I can’t wait to see you tonight.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. His lips linger on my hairline, like he’s trying to breathe me in before he leaves. “I’m serious, Cheyenne.”

He leaves quickly, and I fall back against the wall. Oh my god. I’ve got half a mind to drop this towel and pull my wand out. I’m serious ? About what, sir? Starring in the next Tolson Times Best Sellers Romance?

I need to talk to Junelle.

My hands have been scrubbed raw, my cuticles tamed, and the most stunning shade of light purple I’ve ever seen painted on my stubby nails.

The nail tech wasn’t keen for me to skip the shaped fancy gels the rest of the group got, but once I pointed out I couldn’t type with longer nails, the tone changed.

Apparently, it’s imperative I can still do that.

Around me there is so much chatting and laughing, it makes my ears ring. This is for my friend, I remind myself. She is worth even an ounce of minor discomfort. I can be polite and friendly and cordial for as long as she needs me to be.

While some of the other women go outside for a smoke or vape break, others are yawning and ready for a nap. Soon it’s only Junelle and me lounging in this sitting room.

Niceties first, I know surprises aren’t her forté.

“How was birdwatching?” I ask, relaxing into the corner of one of the sofas.

“Good, I’ve got some great pictures, Andrea didn’t get pooped on like he was convinced would happen,” she giggles before plopping down next to me. “Look at how cute I am.”

She pulls up her photos, skipping past ones of birds for me.

She and Andrea are perfect. Truly, I’ve never seen a more beautiful couple.

Every photo of them together is like seeing real love manifested.

No book boyfriends could compare. Junelle looks in her element as well, decked out in hiking gear.

She’s always been the adventurer, willing to go where no one has before.

Even at college, field days were her favourite part of our biology classes.

I was more of a labs and mathematics type of student.

Junelle loves all the beautiful things the natural world has to offer.

And I love praising her photography skills.

It meant we made a great team for group projects, though, because presentations are my jam.

Probably for the best I became a teacher and she’s working as an environmental scientist for the Harbor Island Nature Reserve. It does make field trip day my favourite day of school, though. I love getting an excuse to spend the day with her while working.

“I bet Brenda is gonna have smoke coming out of her ears when she sees your pictures.” I thumb to her next photo and see Valentino in this one, his face shoved into Junelle’s e-reader. “Why does he have your tablet?”

“I gave him the ballerina book to keep him occupied on the drive. Couldn’t put it down.” She smirks at me. “He loves Remi.”

“Oh,” I nod. That makes sense, I guess. It explains why he was so strange this afternoon, he knows now. Like the women in the group, Valentino knows about my side hustle. That doesn’t excuse this morning’s weirdness, though.

“Did you eat, by the way?” Junelle leans back and side-eyes me. Her gaze moves from the collar of my T-shirt to my calves. If we hadn’t been friends for over a decade, I would have been uncomfortable with her assessing look.

“I had a few bites of your picnic leftovers. I was mostly thirsty.” I make a pointed move to drink from my water glass, pinky out. “Why?”

“Tino mentioned he got some food for you, said you need a few extra minutes to eat.” Her eyes narrow. “You okay? ”

“I’m trying to make sure I fit into my dress for Saturday. It was a little too tight before I flew out,” I confess.

“Nobody’s made you feel… weird?” She waggles her fingers as she says the word weird.

Besides Valentino turning my pussy into a waterfall, the only people I’ve spoken to have been lovely. Even the awkward questions about inspiration were all very kind. I look Junelle over the way she did me. Nothing about her seems different from before she flew out here.

She looks the same as she did before the wedding in Jamaica, for that matter. Her brown skin is glowing with all the extra sun she’s been getting, and she looks at peace. Like everything in the universe is going right the way she planned it.

“What do you mean, weird?” I counter.

She makes a show of looking to see who was outside, and if there was anyone lingering by the door. There are like thirty rooms here, all full. There is always someone just around the corner. I’m not sure who she’s worried about overhearing us either.

“Has anyone tried to speak with you alone or asked you out?” she whispers.

I almost laugh and say who here would want to ask me out . There are hundreds more attractive people in town to take on a date. There’s no way I’m the last single adult in Italy.

Except Valentino has asked me out. To dinner, no less. After I tried to suck his face off this morning after some kind of insane delirium took over me.

“Yes,” I mumble. “What’s the big deal?”

Junelle grabs my shoulders and shakes me before she pulls me into a hug.

“This is the best wedding gift you could possibly give me. The guys and gals here are great, a little rough around the edges, but sooooo fine. Who was it? Who asked? How did they do it? When did this happen? Oh my god, was it Dino? He’s very nice, not so bookish, but I’m sure he’d love Remi Roman’s work. ”

“It wasn’t Dino, OMG.” I crack a smile, her enthusiasm catching. He’s cute enough, but a little younger than I like potential partners. “Why is this so great? He’s gonna take me out and realise how boring I am.”

“Hmmm, him, a he…”

I can see the calculation happening in her head.

Like Andrea at board games, Junelle can be too smart, calculating chances and counting cards.

Being analytical and smart doesn’t make you a cheat in my mind, but it can put the dots together a lot quicker for you.

Her eyes go wide, and I swear she’s going to lose her eyebrows into her hairline .

“I should have said no.” I crumple into my elbow. “I’ll still tell him no, that’s not what this trip is about. It’s weird, isn’t it? Why would he even ask me?”

“There’s no rhyme or reason for stuff like this,” she whispers, her head bobbing up and down like there is a manual crank turning her thoughts now. “Plus, it’s fine, Tino is like fifteen years older than Andrea. They act more like brothers most of the time.”

“Fuck, I hadn’t even thought about that,” I groan.

“Babes, I’ve got my happy ending, you deserve yours too.”

“Why are you being weird now?” Panic settles into my gut.

“Who’s acting weird?” Andrea asks, a grin on his face as he sits next to us. He pulls Junelle into him for a kiss before he looks at me.

“Me, I think just too much sun today,” I lie, the words slipping off my tongue so naturally. “I’m gonna have a nap, I’ll see you later.”

I need some quiet time to recharge anyway if I’m actually going on this date. Maybe I’ll finish the food Valentino gave me and write. That always helps me clear my head.

“There’s aloe in the fridge if you need it,” Andrea calls, but I’m already racing to my room.

Like I wouldn’t bring my own aloe vera.