Page 7

Cullen

F ury.

Usually I kept my cool, but with Bethany, that seemed to be getting harder and harder. Joey couldn’t stop going on about her.

Then she turned up at the restaurant almost a week after she had babysat Joey. A whole week of her scent infiltrating my senses, driving me insane, and now she was here.

At my restaurant.

On a date.

Though I doubted the pathetic alpha who smelled like raw meat could really be considered a date.

He’d turned up before her, proceeded to drink while hitting on Sally, my bartender who took no crap, before slinking off to his table. He was only there for a few minutes when Bethany turned up.

Fuck me.

She was beautiful; I knew that. I had admired her from afar, but when she turned up wearing a skintight dress that was molded to her every curve, my mouth went dry.

The little red number, falling just below the curve of her ass and dipping in the front to expose ample cleavage, left next to nothing to the imagination.

I’d never seen so much of her skin on display. Naturally, when she was at the ice rink, she covered up because it was freezing. Knowing that she had an amazing body was one thing, but seeing it firsthand made my brain short-circuit.

“Boss?” Sally asked as I gaped after Bethany while a waiter guided her to the table where the asshole was waiting. “Are you okay?”

I mentally shook myself. “Of course I’m okay.”

Sally chuckled, grabbing a glass from behind the bar. “Sure thing. If your mouth was open any longer, you were going to start catching flies. Do you know her?”

I contemplated lying, saying that I had never seen Bethany before in my life, but Sally would be able to see right through me. “She’s Joey’s ice-skating instructor.”

Sally nodded. “Well, she’s beautiful. She’s turned the head of every single male and most of the females since she entered this building.”

I didn’t need reminding of that. I was already painfully aware.

“Have you seen the guy before?” I asked.

Sally frowned. “Yeah, sadly. He regularly brings girls here for first dates, usually omegas, and they rarely last long. He isn’t exactly a ray of sunshine. Judging by his past actions, this is probably a first date.”

“I don’t like that,” I grumbled.

“That it’s a date?” Sally asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat. “No, that he’s a serial dater. Bethany is a friend. If this guy is an asshole…” I frowned. “Did he not pick her up?”

That was utter bullshit—yes, I was unhappy, but it wasn’t because I was worried about her as my daughter’s ice-skating teacher.

I was mad that she had made all that effort to look mouthwateringly good and it was being wasted on him. He didn’t deserve her, not at all. In between helping Sally at the bar, I glanced over at their table. Whenever he looked at her, his eyes were firmly homed in on her chest.

The shithead couldn’t even be bothered to look her in the eye.

Bethany was no fool. She clearly wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation either. She kept glancing away, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. Her body language was far from engaged; in fact, judging by the way her eyes kept glancing at the exits, she wanted out.

“Sometimes a girl just needs to figure out for herself that a guy is a dud,” Sally said.

I grumbled in response. Bethany was a sensible girl. She would surely realize he was worthless and ditch her date.

“Oh, Wallet Wanker is back,” Chris said as he emerged from the cellar, his eyes glancing over at Bethany’s table.

“That’s him?” Sally asked.

I glanced between the pair of them. It wasn’t unusual for us to give patrons nicknames, but Wallet Wanker was a new one. I had to assume Chris had come up with it, considering he was an aspiring actor and reveled in using British slang in his… well, frankly, horrible English accent.

“Explain,” I growled. Yes, I was being terse, but if this was pertinent to Bethany, it was pertinent to me.

Sally grimaced, pouring a few shots and handing them to a patron before turning back to me. “There’s this guy who’s been bringing girls here for dates, and he always forgets to bring his wallet and makes them pay for it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said. Walking up to the till, I pulled up their table number. He had ordered an expensive bottle of wine and several expensive appetizers.

“He sometimes pays—I kind of get the impression he pays if he thinks the girl is going to, you know…” Chris waggled his eyebrows.

I was mad before, but now I was livid.

How had Bethany managed to find such a paragon of chivalry? She certainly didn’t look thrilled. As he went on and on about himself, she gave him a cool, level stare. Couldn’t he tell she wasn’t at all engaged? Or did he simply not care?

Now that Chris was back at the bar, I could leave. I was here to do inventory and behind-the-scenes work and was only covering while he changed one of the barrels in the cellar.

Bethany downed her glass of wine before getting up and giving the prick a small smile and making a beeline for the bathroom. It may have been the wrong move, but I followed her, anger churning in my gut.

The bathrooms were at the very back of the restaurant, with a small corridor between them and the main building, so it was somewhat secluded. Leaning against the wall, I watched and waited for Bethany to exit.

When she reappeared, her eyes were firmly on the floor. Her blonde hair, which she usually pulled back in a ponytail, was falling in golden waves that my hands itched to tangle themselves up in.

She looked breathtaking and was wasting it on an idiot.

“Bethany,” I said, my voice a little more growly than I intended.

She jumped at the sound of her name, her eyes darting up to meet mine, before breaking into a small smile. “Cullen, what are you doing here?”

Did she not know this was my restaurant?

Was it simply fate that, of all the places she could have ended up on a bad date, she’d ended up at my establishment?

“What are you doing spending time with an idiot like that?” I asked, pleasantries be fucked.

“I’m on a date,” she said, hugging herself around the middle and frowning. My grumpiness was radiating off me, so undoubtedly she was feeling it.

“Please tell me you can agree that he’s a waste of space.”

“He’s not that bad.” She sighed, but the words rang hollow and she didn’t meet my eye. A snort of laughter escaped me, making her glower at me. “I need to go back,” she said, moving to walk past me.

“No.” The word left my lips before I could think them through.

“No?” Bethany asked, bewildered.

My eyes kept trailing down to the expanse of skin along her neck and her chest. I wanted to run my lips down them and taste her. Would she taste as sweet as her scent?

I bet she did.

When I didn’t reply, Bethany frowned. “My date is waiting for me,” she said softly, brushing past me.

My body reacted, and I shot forward by an almost primal instinct. Gripping her waist with one hand, I dragged her to the wall, pressing my body against hers, the other arm resting on the wall next to her head, caging her in.

This close, I could almost taste her, the rich hint of wine on her breath escaping those pouty lips. She was perfection, and she had no idea.

“Why are you letting that shit for brains take you out?” I asked, my voice dangerously low.

Our faces were only an inch apart, and Bethany gazed up at me.

She was shocked, but there was something more to her expression.

The way her lips parted ever so slightly, her eyes widening as her breathing deepened.

As she took in my scent, her pupils dilated and the smell of her desire became apparent.

Sweet. Oh, so fucking sweet.

It was the kind of scent that could bring a man to his knees.

“C-Cullen,” Bethany whispered, my name on her lips the sweetest of prayers. She wasn’t angry or scared.

She wanted me.

My body was moving of its own volition, all common sense escaping me. Lurching toward her, I pressed her against the wall, every curve of her body flush against mine like she was built just for me. My hand on her waist grasped at the flesh of her thigh, pulling her closer to me.

Our lips crashed together, and it wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was hungry, frantic. I needed to taste every inch of her, to consume her. My suspicions were confirmed: she tasted like fucking ambrosia. Nothing had ever come close to her—and nothing ever would.

Her hands fisted my shirt, while the hand that had been caging her was tangled in her hair, keeping her firmly against me.

In the small hallway, her scent only intensified, her need palpable.

She wasn’t alone. I was so hard, I was shocked my pants hadn’t sprung open.

Fuck.

This was Bethany.

She was Joey’s teacher. I couldn’t fuck her, no matter how much my body cried out to feel her.

Pulling back slightly, I let the bossy alpha in me speak, which probably wasn’t the best idea, but I was nothing but instincts and need, thanks to the small, sinfully attractive omega.

“You got yourself all dressed up for a waste of space like that, when you could easily have any alpha on his knees for you,” I muttered.

“Cullen,” she whispered, her voice breathy. How would she sound as she came, soft and sweet like this, or louder and more feral?

“You need to go home. Your date is over,” I said, growling the last word.

Beth’s eyes widened. “I can’t…”

I couldn’t take her pushing back. I needed her out of my restaurant, and I needed it immediately, or I would be fucking her up against the wall before she could even blink.

“You can. You need to do better. Not displaying yourself in public like a cheap whore.”

Her body stilled, her eyes going cold as my words sank in.

Shit.

I had been harsh, but it did the trick. Her pouty lips were swollen from the kiss, her chest was heaving, making the swell of her breasts look downright pornographic.

My eyes were firmly locked on her lips when she shoved me away with surprising strength, glowering at me as she righted the dress.

“This was a mistake,” I said.

The only mistake was not taking her into the back and showing her just how much I appreciated that dress on her.

Bethany snorted. “A mistake? You’re the one who accosted me, Cullen. Get over yourself,” she snarled, brushing her hair out of her face and straightening before gracefully exiting the hallway like nothing had happened.