The Perfect Ass
Nikolay
This is boring. I’m so boooored. Someone blow my fucking brains out and put me out of my Goddess-forsaken misery. Nearly three hundred years old, and here I am in a room full of thirty-something-year-old humans rambling on about…something—I don’t even fucking remember.
“Dmitri,” I mind-link my security detail, “how much longer do I have to sit and listen to this drivel?”
Dmitri stands by the door to the conference room like a good guard dog and checks his watch.
“The meeting is scheduled to wrap up in twenty minutes,” he links back.
“Can you pretend to pass out or something? Fake an incoming emergency phone call—I’ll pay you extra,” I demand.
Dmitri stifles a chuckle, scratching his nose with his middle finger in a not-so-subtle flip off as he looks away. His answer is loud and clear. He wants me to suffer—it’s his way of getting whatever payback he can for all the shit I put him through.
A low growl slips out, and all heads snap in my direction. The moment I scowl, their eyes drop back to their documents, and that asshole resumes blabbering about how amazing his company is. If your company is doing so well, why am I buying it for pennies?
It’s not like me to be so unprofessional, but after seeing Laurent, Tae, and my little brother all with their freaking amazing Eresthais, life just hasn’t been the same. Do I need to start behaving for Selene to deem me worthy of an Eresthai? Alex and Tae are both goody two-shoes. Laurent was once following in my debonair footsteps, until Alex got his hands on him and turned him into a pussy.
What’s the point of any of this anymore? Who am I doing all this dreary, arduous work for? Surely not myself. Work used to satisfy me once, but there’s no thrill in this modern-day company hunt anymore. I have no mate and no cubs to leave a legacy for. I’m a hamster in a wheel, running like a maniac and going absolutely fucking nowhere.
What a waste of time.
At this point, I’m considering leaving everything behind just as Alexander did and living it up on some beach somewhere. Bury myself in anonymous pussy.
Looking around the conference room, I amuse myself by examining each one of the humans at the table. Going down the line, I imagine what each man or woman would look like naked. Ew, gross. Too wrinkly. Hmm, maybe. Fuckable but forgettable. Meh. Hell no—most likely smells of cheese.
I subtly sniff the air. Yep, parmesan. Probably has a yeast infection.
Taking out my phone, I peek at my calendar, confirming some free time tonight. Thank fuck—if I don’t get laid soon, I’m going to have an aneurysm.
Slipping my phone back into my back pocket, my gaze drifts through the glass wall separating us from the worker bees. The glass is one-sided, so while we can all look out at the sea of desks, none of the little peons out there can see in.
Having Lycans and Werewolves with incredible hearing in my employ, I prefer to keep meeting areas further away from the masses—but this isn’t my building. Not yet, anyway. And if this is how boring these people are, I might just forget about absorbing this company entirely. The only reason I’m even considering it is their in-house catalog of ancient Aztec artifacts—all currently ownerless. If I buy them out, I’ll own everything and add it to my pile of treasures.
As I scan the miserable faces out there one by one, my attention automatically locks onto the shapeliest ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, and I’ve seen many an ass—but this one is honest-to-Goddess, chef’s kiss perfection.
I can’t see her face—the woman leans against one of her colleague’s desks, arms crossed as they chat. Now that I look at her more closely, she’s not dressed appropriately for this place. While everyone else is in business attire, she’s wearing painted-on jeans, sneakers, a tank top, and a baseball cap.
But let’s reel it back, focus on the critical issue here, and return to those jeans—how in Goddess’s almighty name did she slip into those babies? It’s the most ideal example of painted-on denim I’ve ever seen.
When she pushes off that guy’s desk and shifts her weight, my head tilts to the side, following her magnanimous ass like a hypnotist’s pendulum. Even my Lycan sits at attention, and he’s been around the block just as much as I have.
All I can think about is going out there, bending her over a desk, and sinking myself into that woman so deep her head explodes. Her hips are wide enough—she could handle me. My Lycan claws at me to go after her.
I don’t even realize I’m already walking toward the door until my hand reaches for the handle, but I don’t make it out there in time to even ask for her number—the oddest thing happens. The woman quickly looks to her left, blesses me with the tiniest glimpse of her face as she smirks, then turns to the right and bolts away at full speed.
A moment later, a handful of security guards run past the door in hot pursuit of the perfect ass. What the fuck was that all about?
I open the door to see where they’re running and catch the faintest hint of Wild Bloom hanging in the air.
Dmitri steps out to stand beside me, sniffing. “You smell that?” he asks.
I nod. “It was that woman.”
Dmitri frowns. “What woman?”
“Mr. Mikhailov?” a voice calls from inside the conference room, but I ignore it.
My Lycan is telling me to run after her, so I run.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but this feels an awful lot like a hunt, and my eternally bored Lycan wants to chase. Sick ’em, boy.
“Ah, fuck,” Dmitri mutters, reading me perfectly.
Catching up to the security guards is easy. They rush down the emergency stairs in pursuit of the mystery woman. I look down the spiraling staircase and spot her hand as she lets go of the railing on the ground floor. How did she make it down so fast? If she’s this fast and using Wild Bloom, there’s no way she’s human.
My Lycan and I both feel exhilaration pummel through us as our curiosity piques.
I’d love to vault over the railing and jump straight down, but even my Lycan knows better than to reveal our kind to humans, so I run instead, quickly passing the huffing, puffing guards. As soon as I push through the emergency door into the alley, my nose is bombarded by the scent of Mexico City on a hot day.
Not even the slightest trace of Wild Bloom lingers among this complex aroma, and I fear I’ve lost my prey. I step out into the open, the alley’s heat pressing down on me—then I look up. The woman in the baseball cap stands on the roof of the building opposite, ten stories up, her body framed by the bright sky as she looks down at me.
She vanishes a heartbeat later, and I can’t hold my Lycan back anymore. He shifts my hands, and we scale the building, only to find the rooftop completely bare of any signs of life.
I sniff at the Wild Bloom hanging in the air, but it’s quickly swept away by the hot breeze. Crossing the rooftop, I scan for any hint of someone running. Nothing. My Lycan starts going ballistic, but I’m not exactly sure why—he’s not the most articulate of beasts.
“You know,” Dmitri says as he casually walks up behind me, his hands slipped into his pockets, “I’ve seen you do some ridiculous shit to chase tail, but never bust out of a business meeting like that.”
“No matter. I think I’ve decided not to buy the place,” I mumble, walking along the edge of the building as I continue scanning the streets below. “Their presentation was lousy.”
Dmitri scoffs. “How would you know? You were daydreaming through most of it.”
My next move is clear: the guy back at the office—the one my perfect ass was talking to—he might know something about her. I don’t know why I need to know, but my Lycan won’t shut up about it, and if he keeps clawing at the inside of my skull like this, I’m going to smash my head against a wall just to knock him out for a minute of peace.
When I find the guy back at his desk, he claims not to know my mystery woman.
“She said she just started working here in the IT department. Made small talk, ran away, and that was it,” he says, looking confused. “Does she work here?”
“How the fuck should I know,” I growl.
Well, this is somewhat annoying. I shove my hands in my pockets and sigh as he resumes working.
“Dmitri, I want any and all security footage of this woman from the moment she stepped into the building.”
Dmitri looks up from his phone, his brows slowly rising. I can tell he thinks I’m nuts, but he also knows to keep his opinions to himself… most of the time.
He smirks, subtly shakes his head in disapproval, and looks back to his phone. “Consider it done.”
I’m not exactly sure where my feet are taking me, but somehow I find myself outside, wandering along the bustling city street, lost in thought. I don’t care where I’m headed—I just don’t want to be indoors any longer.
All I can think about is how my mystery woman’s lips smirked when she saw the security team coming for her. The more I replay that little image seared into my mind, the more obvious it becomes—she was expecting them.
I couldn’t see much of her face under that baseball cap, but she looked to be in her twenties, with long dark hair and olive skin. I’ve been infatuated by women in the past, but it’s been at least fifty years since someone genuinely captured my attention like this.
When I met Victoria, she stood out for obvious reasons, and sure, I would’ve loved to make her mine—any sane male Lycan with a functional aura detection system would have. But after seeing my little brother completely transform into a new Lycan, I could never take that away from him. I might poke fun at Alexander and enjoy putting him in awkward situations, but he’s my little brother, and as long as I’m alive, he and his Eresthai will always be under my protection.
That reminds me—it’s going to be Madi’s first birthday soon, and as her uncle, it’s now my official duty to spoil her rotten and inconvenience my brother with the most awkward and over-the-top gift an uncle like me can possibly buy. Seeing how Madi enjoys riding on Boris so much, perhaps a pony would suffice. Then again, Madi might end up eating it—that kid is as wild as they come.
A dead pony would definitely be an inconvenience to Alex.
Pony it is.
I spot a nearby café and take a seat. Once I’d ordered two of largest iced coffee they had, I started searching for ponies online. A few minutes into my research, Dmitri takes the seat across from me and slides a piece of cake my way.
Cake usually means bad news. I knit my brows at him, waiting for him to drop a bomb. Dmitri simply takes one of the iced coffees and starts sipping as he leans back in his seat and pushes the cake closer my way.
“Well?” I prod.
Dmitri sucks air through gritted teeth before coming out with it. “There’s no footage of her. Any time your mystery woman came into view of a camera, the camera turned off.”
“That’s suspicious,” I mutter.
“Yeah, no shit,” Dmitri says, looking into his coffee. “This is good.”
Well, that’s unfortunate. I guess I’ll just have to go out tonight and find myself a subpar ass.
