Carson's Moonbeam Ch. 01-02byminibitch©
I've revised the bits that people found confusing. I just hope I haven't made it worse! Lol!
Thank you for all your comments and votes. Having recently gotten married to the wonderful Mr. Murphy, it may be a few weeks until I have the time to finish work on chapter 3! I do plan on completing this story for anyone who has enjoyed it so far and would like to read more.
Please continue to vote and comment.
Yea! I get to use my married name!
Moonbeam Rose Montana closed the front door on her grandma's property for what she assumed was the last time. It hurt too much being back, breathing in the familiar scents of home, all the while knowing that the people who made it that were gone forever. Grandma had passed peacefully in her sleep the week before at the good age of eighty-six. She wished her grandpa had had the same option. He was gone the last seven years. A heart attack had carried him away in the same hospital he had come to visit her in. "My little Mooney," he'd cried anguished, "my beautiful little Mooney, what did they do to you?" Death took him shortly after. Seventy-eight was still too young, she thought. Now grandma didn't crumble. She didn't fall apart when her granddaughter needed her, no, not old Rose Kane. She lead by example, showed Moonbeam what it was to weather a storm. What it was to survive. But, Leopold, it was Leopold who showed her what it was to fight.
The drive back to the city from her grandparents had Moonbeam, or Bea Rosemont, as she was known to everyone, rung out. How could she feel so old at twenty-three? 'People dying,' she thought drily, 'that's how.' Both parents dead by the time she was six. The incident ten years later. Now her grandma. No living blood relatives left. The last Montana. She chuckled despite herself, it sounded like a bad movie. Dragging her suitcase up to her one-bedroom box of an apartment, Bea didn't feel anything as she opened the door and flicked on the lights. It wasn't home. Just a place to lay her head and shower. There were no pictures on the walls, no trinkets decorating the shelves. Books, an old television and a radio, that was as much decoration as she needed. The couch was comfortable, the bed was comfortable and she had somewhere to shower. It was easy to keep clean and it was cheap due to the crappy neighbourhood. Easy to walk away from when the time came. The answer machine flashed with two new messages on the worn coffee table. The first was from the temp agency she worked for, they had two weeks at JC Enterprises for her, starting tomorrow. The second was from Carl, inviting her down to the diner he worked at for some dinner and a catch up. Knowing it would be better than moping around her apartment, she showered and dressed casually in dark skinny jeans, a vest top and heels. Throwing a loose cardigan over her out fit, she rolled up the sleeves, clipped cuffs on each arm before rolling them back down and heading out the door.
Jessie Carson Jr., Carson to his friends watched from the booth he was holding up at his newly acquired business when the daintiest looking female he had ever seen entered. She looked so out of place against the rough crowd that was frequenting it. Bea, Carl had called her.
How do you know her? Carson demanded.
Beatrice Rosemont, lives down the street. She's a friend, Carl said, jumping slightly at the telepathic intrusion of his Alpha.
She looked like a Beatrice, Carson thought. Small in frame and small in stature even with her six inch heels. Lush black hair intricately woven into a deliberate mess on the back of her head. No makeup showed the creamiest skin he had ever seen. What she was doing around here, he didn't know. Carson worried she could be hurt, this was no neighbourhood for a lady.
"What has you so jumpy?" Bea asked Carl, as he served her some orange. "Did a fly land in the soup?"
"It's you," Carl replied nervously. When she raised her eyebrows at him he continued, "I'm just shocked by how tall you look."
"Oh, ha bloody ha," she said, scrunching up her face.
"How was the holiday?" he asked, trying to ignore the growling coming from Carson's booth. Bea wasn't just another customer, she was a friend. She was on her own, away from home for a year. Flexing her wings before moving to France to live with her family and marry well. He'd pieced that together from the small snippets she told him about herself.
"You know, busy," she replied, brightly, "I was arranging dates and spending money like nobodies business." It was true. She had paid for and arranged her grandma's funeral on her own. Her heart constricted at the thoughts of everything she had lost. She sighed quietly.
"You missing someone?" Carl asked at Carson's urging.
Looking up at him with clear green eyes, she answered with total honesty, "More than I ever thought possible." The pain was clear in her voice and Carl reached across the counter to touch her shoulder. She flinched, backing away. He held his hands up and she laughed, extending her own to him. He grabbed them and pulled skyward, helping her onto a stool as he had done many times before.
"Maybe you need some bigger shoes," Carl laughed.
"I'm risking a nosebleed as it is," she smiled, "if I go much higher I'll have to start carrying an oxygen tank."
Touch her again and I'll rip your arms off, Carson warned Carl dangerously.
I'm sorry, Alpha Carl panicked, she's just a friend, that's all. You know Mark's my mate.
She is mine, came Carson's reply, MINE.
Carl gulped loudly. Carson was sending out fuzzy signals and he worried for Bea's safety if she was Carson's mate. Not that he would make a bad mate, far from it. Every unmated female in the pack wanted a slice of Carson. If he brought Bea to the compound and declared her, they'd challenge her for mating rights while she was still human. She'd be ripped apart.
Bea studied Carl closely. He was nervous, unsure of himself tonight. The banter they normally shared felt strained. He hadn't commented on the fact she came out without any makeup. No smart remarks about the fact her hair looked like a crows nest on the back of her head. He kept glancing towards the back of the room near the toilets. Curiosity piped, she excused herself to the ladies-room. In a booth at the back of the room sat a large man with dirty blonde hair. He had the most piercing blue eyes Bea had ever seen. Handsome wasn't a term that could be applied to many men, but she was sure that he was the dictionary definition. Looking out of place in an expensive navy business suit, he started at her unashamedly as she approached and entered the door beside him. Bea locked herself in the toilet and held on to the handbasin, breathing quickly. Feeling a rush of excitement as she'd passed him, she wasn't sure how she hadn't bent down to kiss his full lips with everything she had. That could never happen though, not for Moonbeam Montana, not even while pretending to be Bea Rosemont. Far was too messy. Moonbeam had learnt lessons in life that most people never did. She considered those people the lucky ones.
Carson could hear her heart beating wildly as she approached, could still hear it now in the small room behind him. He's liked how her cheeks had flushed and emerald eyes had dilated as she took him in. Whoever she was missing wouldn't match up to him in any department, he could guarantee that. Carson exuded raw masculinity and knew it. He smiled to himself, his little Beatrice was obviously timid, it stirred him just thinking about it. The man who had once dated her would be the same, he assumed. Easy to step over and crush while Carson took the only woman in the world who could capture even the hardest heart with her sparkling eyes. She smelt of coconuts and almonds. She smelt like paradise and he intended to bury himself for eternity in her.
Her family, Carl interrupted nervously, might notice if she turns into a werewolf when she goes home.
She's not going anywhere, Carson replied cockily, who wouldn't want their daughter married to me? He was a business giant, nothing was out of his reach.
Her's might not if she dies on the way to the alter.
Carson slammed his on the table so hard the cheap wood split on two. You might be mated to my second, but that is not your place to say. I will destroy anyone that hurts so much as one hair on her head.
I don't mean to overstep my place, Alpha.
Carson gave no reply as she came back out.
Bea had heard the noise of the table being destroyed in the small cubicle. Glancing quickly at the damage on her way back to her place at the counter, she asked for her order to go. The big blonde in the back was giving off serious testosterone and she didn't want to be around that. Not today. Carl handed over her order and as she turned to leave, she walked straight into a brick wall. Straight into Carson.
"Hey," he smiled down at her, touching the tops of his arms, "watch you don't fall."
Bea froze at the heat of his hands on her. He was bigger than she could have imagined, she only reached his chest and that was in heels. Gathering herself, she tried to shrug out of his hands. When he won't let go, she shouted loudly, "Get your hands off me. Let go of me." She wiggled more forcefully, checking around for security cameras.
"Let the lil 'un go, mister," one of the regulars warned, "she don' wan' no stranger touchin' 'er."
"I'm sorry, Bea," Carson frowned, "I meant no harm." Her heart rate accelerated and her breathing hitched. If it wasn't for her checking for camera's he thought she'd probably pass out from shock.
"Then keep your hands off my person," she warned, not letting his slip of the tongue show on her face.
Carson backed off, kicking himself for causing her to react like that. He expected her to laugh, make small talk and arrange a date. That was how it always worked. Carson made a plan and everything just fell into place as he dictated. Even in the boardroom when he was dealing with humans, they always fell into the lines he constructed for them. She was different, probably due to a privileged upbringing. Women from money didn't like to be manhandled in scruffy diners.
Leaving quickly, Bea stopped by her apartment long enough to pack up her clothes and toiletries. She was going to stay in a hotel for a few days while she figured out her next move. He knew her name and that freaked her out. He'd caught her completely off guard. Whoever that man in the diner was, she knew one thing with absolute certainty, he wasn't human. Everything else after that, for now, was irrelevant.
Carson wanted nothing more than to chase after her and mate her before she knew what was happening. He didn't and it wasn't because of any consideration for her feelings. He was responsible for more then just himself. The survival of the pack depended on him, exposing their secret in such a way would spell disaster for everyone. So instead of fucking his little Bea senseless, Carson was stretched out on his bed stroking himself. Images of her undressing shyly in front of him filled his mind. Face flushing with embarrassment at him seeing her exposed to him. Lifting her naked body to his, kissing her slowly, teasing her nipples to attention. Licking every inch of her smooth and perfect body, making her wetter then she ever imagined she could get. Entering her from behind while she screamed his name in pleasure. He pumped his long thick member hard and fast. Calling her name only on his release.
Bea had checked into a hotel ten minutes away from her apartment and wondered why she'd ran away. The best she could come up with was that so much had happen in the past week, she didn't have in her to deal with the table smashing blonde in the diner. She was beyond tired and unable to stop and think straight. Deciding her best option was to sleep and mull it over after she'd rested, that's exactly what she did.
Moonbeam Montana woke long before she received a wake-up call from hotel reception. The events of the previous night still swirling around her mind, she knew she'd let panic creep in before she could sort through what had happened rationally. There had been no need to rush away from her apartment, she'd overreacted. The big blonde, or blondie, as she started to refer to him at 3am, had caught her by surprise. Dizzied her with those bloody blue eyes. She'd wanted to kiss him. Where had that come from? 'His stupid eyes,' Bea mumbled to herself, 'that's where.' The start of a new day hadn't squashed that want completely.
Bea did the only thing she could do, and that was to run through things yet again. Once more, with no feeling.
Blondie was Carl's superior and by the looks of him, she guessed he was an Alpha. Blondie must have asked Carl for her name, that's how he came back with Bea when he'd spoken to her. This complicated things slightly. Now that Carl's Alpha had met her, she couldn't use Carl for information. Blondie was a good hundred pounds heavier and about five inches taller than Carl, she knew she'd be signing Carl's death warrant if she pursued him. Too many good people had passed without good reason, she wasn't about to add to that list. Blondie had also made a point to bump into her. Either he wanted to know about her, since she was acquainted with one of his own, or.....or....he knew she didn't do exactly what it said on the tin. Another complication. If he found out what she was before she found what she was looking for, it'd be all over for her.
Figuring she might as well get up and take the temp work at JC Enterprises for the interim, Bea went about showering and getting ready for the day ahead. Feeling more like herself than she had in days, she dressed in a loose, long sleeved black silk blouse and black pencil skirt. She applied her makeup quickly and efficiently, pulled her long black hair into a messy bun and clipped on her wrist cuffs. Deciding to blow the executive look to hell, she topped it off with a pair of bright blue heels with a thin ankle strap. She smiled at the fact the fabric of the shoes had bright robots printed all over them. Her crazy choice of shoe always threw employers for a loop. They were used to conformity and were less likely to try and mount the temp if she was just outside the norm. Anticipating her reaction to a hand on the ass was impossible and not worth the risk. A girl wearing shoes like hers wasn't worried about trying to land a permanent gig.
Crossing to the front desk of the office building she was now temporarily employed at, Bea didn't think she'd like working there too much. The lobby was large, flooded with natural light and spotlessly clean. It was also more secure than a bank. A quick glance around and she saw the place littered with cleverly concealed cameras. Four large security men stood around the front door and everyone was dressed in the same colour uniform. It was boring, regimented and full of werewolves. Missing that blondie was a werewolf the night before bothered her almost as much as how attractive she found him. "Good morning," Bea smiled at the receptionist, "I'm from the Johnson's agency."
"Miss. Rosemont," the receptionist said, handing her a company newsletter, "welcome to JC Enterprises and good luck." Giving her a temporary security pass too, the polished redhead informed her she was to be Mr. Jessie Carson Jr's secretary for the next two weeks.
Bea looked down at the picture of the company's CEO on the newsletter and said sweetly, "I'll need a bit more than that."
"Please follow Mark," the redhead smiled, "he'll give you your induction."
Bea nodded and moved as fast as her skirt would allow her after the navy suited man she assumed was Mark. He was tall, that didn't shock her, they were all tall. His features were unassuming. Pleasant, but easily forgotten. Considering what he was, that had to be a blessing. Mark lead her into a small room with two seats either side of a desk. There were papers laid out on the table in preparation of her arrival. Standard practice in any large company. Bea signed the confidentiality agreement no problem. She signed the agreement of her hours no problem. She even signed to say that she had no relevant medical problems. It was just the last sheet that she refused to fill in.
"Is there a problem?" Mark asked.
"A few," she answered, "why do you want to know my shoe size?"
"All employees wear either flat shoes or heels not on excess of two inches."
"I'm afraid I can't walk in anything under five," she said seriously.
"Noted," he said, "the other problems?"
"If I am married, single or otherwise, does not effect my capability to file. The number of sexual partners I've had does not impinge on how fast I can type. My height and weight are irrelevant unless the phone is kept next to a ceiling light and I need to balance on eggshells to answer it. As for my bra, leg, waist and hip measurements, well, I'm unaccustomed to such questioning."
"We supply all employees with business suits and appropriate under garments," Mark said, face twitching slightly, "it's nothing personal."
"I'm here for two weeks," she said flatly, "it's a waste of company resources to have suits made in my size. It would be better to donate that money to a charity and I'll hide under my desk if my clothes embarrass or offend any clients that come in."
"Noted," he said.
"Report to my office," a male voice ordered over the buildings PA system.
"That's you," Mark smiled widely.
"He sounds delightful," Bea said sweetly.
Mark showed Bea to the sixth floor and her new work station. He made a point of showing her the small kitchen with a fridge, sink, kettle and coffee maker beside her office. "You'd better go in," he advised walking away, "he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Bea took a breath and put her game face on. "Good morning, Mr. Carson," she said after she entered the room.
"Please, call me Carson," he smiled from behind his large glass desk. Relaxing back in his leather chair, he looked like all his birthdays had come at once.
"Very well," came her compliant but unenthusiastic reply. She wasn't here to make friends, she had a job to do. Nothing more, nothing less. Bea watched as Carson sat forward, unhappy by her response. Maybe he expected her to swoon at him. Under different circumstances she might have. He was unbelievably handsome. Well, that was until he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
Carson decided, as he sent her away, that Bea would do one of two things. She would bend to his will and submit willingly or she would do it reluctantly. Either option worked fine for him, he was willing to let his mate decided how she wanted the inevitable play out. He couldn't believe his luck when he saw her name on the security list this morning. She should have been front of house with the receptionist, Abbey, but after pulling himself half to death with images of her and getting only a few seconds relief, Carson wanted her as close as possible. It was fate that she was there, and he was over the moon about it, but for right now, he planned to have some fun. "Report to my office," he announced over the PA system. He smiled as his betas started a pool on how long this temp took to leave. Six temps in five days last week. Five temps the week before. This one would last the two weeks she was assigned for, mate him and stay at the compound or his apartment upstairs. He doubted she'd have time to work, she'd be too busy catering to his cock every chance he got. Staring down at the papers littered across his desk when she entered, he motioned to an empty mug beside him and said, "Its empty. Fix it."
"Fix it with what?" she asked, nonplussed.