18. Connor O’Doyle

Chapter 18

Connor O’Doyle

Full moon? More like full swoon .

I pace the hallway outside her room, threatening to burn a hole in the gray-colored carpet. Pulling my sleeve back, I check my watch, then glance out the window at the night sky.

Usually, Whitley would be here by now, meaning something is holding her up with the new choreography lessons. I hope she isn’t being a little brat to the instructor I have hired to teach everyone, and the urge to double check eats at me, especially as I wish to see her. Instead, here I am, waiting on her to get here like a dog after his master, but I can’t deny how she leaves me panting wherever she goes.

I spent the last hour cataloging items under the castle, just to put another barrier between us before I do something idiotic, like stare at her as she dances.

My obsession is getting worse than even I, or Jekyll, could have anticipated—not that the fucker has been answering his phone to help. I’ve been calling for three days now and have heard nothing from the man. There is also the fact that I still haven’t seen her put on any perfume, and yet the scent remains. Not that it seems to matter now, with my need to be with her in any capacity overriding all reason.

I held her through the night for fuck’s sake, slept like a rock, and woke up hard.

I refuse to try to stay away from her any longer, and it’s quickly becoming obvious this “friendship” may well break me. I’m not sure, but I’m starting to wonder if she’s my mate. It fits with the enormous need I have to simply hold her, and it’s one impulse I can’t seem to resist.

I doubt I’ll be sleeping in my own bed any time soon, especially if I can convince Whitley to let me stay in hers.

Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t, but I think I’d rather choose sleep and cuddles. No fucks to give, not when it could potentially be about the person I’ve been waiting centuries for.

Although, I won’t lie and say that I don’t find myself wishing for more, whether I have to hide myself or not. The more I get to know her, and see how kind and good natured she is, the more I want her.

I just hope I’m right, and that whatever spell she has put me under doesn’t come to bite me in the ass, because I’m well and truly done with trying to keep away from her.

Not after having her in my arms all night, and how I had to fight myself to stay away all day.

A wide grin splits my lips when I finally hear her footfalls on the staircase that leads from the bottom floor. She curses under her breath when she sees me.

“What are you doing outside my door?” she asks from down the hall.

After my well-placed suggestion to Frederick, the stylist, Whitley is now sporting wide panier skirts with a much smaller bustle, making it easy for her to move around the castle without getting hurt.

“I told you I would come to see you tonight.”

Leaning against her doorframe, I flinch when my cock throbs against the zipper of my jeans at the look of her. Her outfit isn’t as constricting as the last costume, but it does little to hide the swell of her feminine curves.

The cream-colored dress is covered in pretty flowers and accentuates her waist and ample hips beautifully. Long and flowy, the breast cups make her drool-worthy tits look even bigger than they normally are. An apron wide enough to span the gown was a bit harder to manage for the seamstresses, but a tablecloth maker was able to work something up in time for rehearsals.

She is right, though. The extravagant costumes do make castle operations a bit tighter, but the results... Whitley Whitt in a dress is a sight to see.

She is absolutely stunning.

She moves closer and the smell of her arouses me so much that I’ve grown accustomed to walking everywhere with a hard-on tightening my pants. The way my hands shake, wanting to dig into her hips, is a new development.

Her brows pinch. “I thought you meant—you know what? Never mind what I thought. Do you want to explain last night? Or maybe want to talk about why you were in my bathroom that day?”

“Right to the point then?” I ask, unprepared for her tirade, but I suppose I should have been. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

I wave toward her door, gesturing for her to open it. She unlocks it with her key and steps inside, then quickly turns to me with her hands balled into fists on her hips.

I know I’m in trouble, and her glare tells me I better make my next words good.

“Listen. I will be completely upfront with you,” I say, walking in and closing the door behind me. “Last night was the best sleep I had in ages. I had a bit too much to drink last night, and I want to thank you for not tossing me from the room. You would have been well within your rights to.”

The tension in her shoulders softens as if she’s surprised. “You’re welcome.”

“Can you forgive me for being a complete and total ass for the last few weeks? I really like you, Whitley, and I am sorry for my past actions. As to what I was doing in your bathroom, I grew fascinated with the thing after looking for something. All of this wing used to be mine, and they gave it to you while I was away without letting me check if it was truly empty. I was searching for something of mine and thought it may be in there.”

It’s not a complete lie; I actually do have a couple suit ties in this room somewhere, unless the staff removed them and didn’t tell me.

“And you were in the bathroom because...?” She raises a brow at me in question.

“I heard you coming into the room and panicked,” I say honestly, shrugging.

Her eyes narrow, and her skirts swish lightly as gives me her side.

“Can you at least tell me why you were such an ass, O’Doyle Rules ?” A small smile plays at her lips at the strange nickname she has given me, before quickly hiding it.

“I’ll be frank with you—I’ve been stressed about opening the hotel. We decided to throw a ball not long after you arrived, and much was happening around that time that I can’t tell you. Vlad has also disappeared with very little warning, and you kind of came at a bad time for me.”

Whitley folds her arms and her lips pout. “But you hired me then.”

I scratch the back of my neck, unsettled by how nervous I am by this conversation. “Due to a mix-up, Aubrey actually arrived a week early, so we needed to rush to hire someone. We didn’t want the hotel’s reputation to be damaged by our very first guest, who also has a really big social media following. We were worried she’d ruin us before we were even open.”

“But none of this explains why you were so harsh on me in comparison to everyone else.”

I find my gaze slipping away, unable to meet hers.

“There’s much I can’t tell you, Whitley.” Yeah, like how I’m a werewolf and this hotel is owned by monsters. Or that she calls to my instincts in a way I’ve never experienced before, and it’s been driving me and my cock nuts for weeks. “I guess I’ve liked you from the beginning, but you’re my employee, so I thought putting a wall between us would be best.”

“You’ve liked me from the beginning?” she whispers, her posture losing all its stiffness, and I hear her heart stutter.

Her skin flushes in a way that makes me want to pull her into my arms and nibble on her.

“Yeah, I have,” I say, surprising myself by how true that may be.

It’s regretful that we’re having this kind of discussion about my behavior when I’ve found her exceptionally beautiful from the very beginning. Although her tempestuous nature has always grated on me, I’ve often found myself seeking that battle with her because she is so beguiling. I’ve been unable to stay away, her scent making me pant like a werewolf in a rut, but resisting her and her charm seemed easier at first.

Whitley is pretty, and her curves make me want to bring her into my strong arms so I can feel her softness. I wish I could tell her that, but I also don’t want to sound like a sappy sod trying to negate everything I’ve done.

“A-and the garden?” she asks in a small voice, a blush rising in her cheeks.

A grin threatens my face. “Just testament to how hard I find it to resist you.”

She folds her arms and gives me her side again, like she wants to hide. “Say I forgive you. What happens next?”

“To be completely honest, if this didn’t go as planned, I was going to convince you with more orgasms.”

“What?” The shock that lines her expression brings me unadulterated joy.

I’m so glad I decided to tell the truth, in this at least.

“You said no man can make you come like a vibrator, and I want to prove you wrong.”

The skin across her shoulders deepens to full red, and she nibbles her full bottom lip.

“You’re ridiculous.” Her blushing face scrunches into a cute glare. “Do you really not remember kissing me that night? You don’t remember telling me I needed a good shag, and you weren’t the one to do it?”

A flicker of pain passes over her features and my chest tightens in response. “Yes, I remember. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t myself, and I’m sorry.”

I’m unable to confess that my instincts screamed enemy from the first moment I met her. Or that the night I kissed her, her voice, her scent, her very gaze since then has driven me wild.

I purse my lips, and in a few short steps, reach her side. I pull her into my arms and hug her to me. “Hopefully a gang bang with me and all your battery-operated boyfriends will make it better?”

“What?” she says, her eyes wide in alarm as her body goes lax in my arms in disbelief.

The idea has been running through my mind since I first found her collection. She may hate my guts, but it’s hard to ignore how she comes apart in my hands. I will convince her with orgasms and then treat her as I should have all along.

“It’s perfect,” I say with a laugh, pulling away from her to look into her pretty eyes so she can see me wiggle my brows. “Imagine if we could make it through the next month without us at each other’s throats.”

The ability to have her in my arms and give her what her body needs fills me with anticipation. I want to make this woman come apart like no man or device ever has.

She arches a brow. “Only now you’re totally trying to get some of you in my throat.”

“You’re not wrong.” I shrug and try to hide how my cock leaps at the idea of it being buried between those lips until I’m deep within her face.

I grab her shoulders and forcibly spin her. She gasps and then leaps forward when my fingers touch her back as I go to undo the laces of her dress.

“Let me help you,” I say, knowing she won’t be able to get out of the thing if I don’t.

I watch the goosebumps raise on her perfect, freckled shoulders when I trail the backs of my fingers down her spine. I tease her skin, hoping to stir her desire in the same way she does me without trying.

“I will not beg like you told me that night,” she says, her dress falling from her to give me a tantalizing view of her.

It’s all I can do to not take her in my arms and rumble a horny growl at her.

My voice is gruff and strained as I say, “From what I can tell, woman, I’m the only one here begging.”

She snorts, laughing, and the cute sound does something to my insides.