Beast Behaving Badly by Shelly Laurenston Read Free Book Online Page B

words and think you can distract me.”
    â€œI didn’t make up—”
    â€œLook, the bottom line is, I need your help. I need an edge. We’ve made it into the National Championships next month, but we’ll be going up against the Texas Longfangs. And the rumor is, part of their training is slaughtering cattle with their bare hands—while human. You’ve gotta help me.”
    â€œI don’t know anything about derby. In fact, I don’t even respect derby as a sport. So how can I help you?”
    â€œName the last guy who cross-checked you into the stands?”
    Bo couldn’t help but smirk. “Nice Guy Malone.”
    â€œExactly.” She gave a little laugh. “See? I need you to show me how to be less good, moral, loving Blayne and more evil, sadistic, asshole Marauder.”
    Deciding not to see that statement as an insult, he instead argued, “But I don’t really have time to help you.” He pointed at his watch. “I have a schedule.”
    â€œYou can’t fit me in for like . . . an hour, a couple of times a week?”
    â€œNo. No, I can’t.”
    â€œYou’re serious?”
    â€œYeah.” He tapped his watch again. “Schedule.”
    â€œRight. A schedule, which can be changed to do the right thing. Yes?”
    â€œNo. No, no, no. You can’t go around changing schedules. What’s the point of a schedule if you’re changing it all the time?”
    â€œBut schedules should be flexible.”
    â€œNo. Not flexible.” What was this craziness she was spouting? “Schedules can’t be flexible. Flexible leads to disorder. Disorder leads to sloppiness. Sloppiness leads to failure. And failure is another word for losing.”
    Blayne glided a few feet back from him. “You’re really not joking . . . are you?”
    â€œI’m not really a jokey kind of guy, but when it comes to schedules and time—I don’t joke.”
    â€œOooo-kay. Um . . .” She pulled off her helmet and scratched her head. “How do you . . .”
    â€œHow do I what?”
    â€œWell, I always hear about you at the latest shifter-only club openings—”
    â€œI don’t go to clubs.”
    â€œâ€”or taking out another supermodel—”
    â€œSupermodels have issues with time I’m not comfortable with.”
    â€œOr traveling the world to exotic locations?”
    â€œOnly when there’s a game there. Like the Tahiti World Playoffs. But God it was hot outside the rink. So miserably, miserably hot.”
    â€œBut I don’t understand. I mean . . . how do you . . . when do you . . . ?” Her eyes grew wide and she briefly covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you a virgin?” she whispered.
    â€œWhat? No!”
    â€œBut when do you find time with that rigid schedule of yours? I mean prisoners at Rikers have more freedom!”
    â€œI get along just fine. I’ve had girlfriends.”
    â€œDid they last?”
    Bo shrugged. “They were mostly feline so . . . no.”
    â€œYeah. Most felines I know aren’t gettin’ up at the break of dawn—on purpose.”
    â€œI’m aware of that, you know, now. ”
    â€œI have to tell you something,” she said, putting her helmet back on. “I am fascinated by you. And I now realize that not only do I need you, but you need me.”
    â€œAre we discussing sex again?”
    â€œNo.” She glided closer. “Let’s clear the air about that right now. I no longer have boyfriends.”
    â€œOh.” Bo raised a brow. “So you’re with one of the Babes now?”
    â€œNo. You Visigoth.”
    â€œYou know Visigoth, but you don’t know Boadicea?”
    â€œAgain, no making up words. Anyway, I no longer have boyfriends.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œMy last one was, tragically, a bit of a sociopath. When we went away on a weekend trip to Atlantic City