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Post by Dean Joseph Tomlinson on Sept 24, 2019 5:07:11 GMT
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If there was one thing that he missed about living in London, it wouldn't be the appreciation for real football. It wouldn't be the rainy days and rolling fog, or even the Queen. What he missed the most since coming to Louisiana was the actual changing of the seasons. He missed the cool crisp days strolling around the ancient city. He missed getting a flat white from his favorite cafes and walking around the markets. Nope, now he was in this glorified swamp with all of the worst humidity that England had to offer and put it on steroids. Dean walked out of his modest home, but he had to remind himself that it was better than nothing. It was somewhere for him and Henri to start a new part of their lives and he was grateful to the Robespierre Family for that.
Dean ran his hands through his hair, running his hands to the back of his neck. It was too damn hot for this shit. September was supposed to be filled with chilly air and rugby games with the mates. Not this shit. He walked down towards the main part of the community. The Robespierre House. Inside was all of the highest profile members of the pack and one day he would be seated among them. He would be able to rise up the ranks, once he showed his loyalty.
He had to do it, and he would do whatever it took to prove that he was enough.
His walk to the main house was enriched by a familiar silhouette gracing the walkways.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Margot, what's a beauty like you doing out on this perfectly wretched day?" He asked with a smirk. They had been around each other here and there as members of the pack. Did not help that she was gorgeous and seemed to be one of the few females in the place that was impervious to his English accent and roguish charms.
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The way the parts of me / They always disagree / It's a wonder that this body doesn't break.
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Post by Margot Claire Anders on Sept 29, 2019 6:09:26 GMT
| S leeping in was not something that Oak Hill seemed to allow or value. They held meetings at ridiculously early times and expected all to attend, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It was different than Houston; there, she had been the top of her totem pole. Corner office and all. She wasn’t special in Oak Hill, though, just another member of the pack. It was both comforting and infuriating, especially when all she wanted to do was send Maddie to school in the morning and lounge in her pajamas with her morning coffee. But no, there was always work to be done, always someone to see and to defer to. She had gotten back several revisions for the academy’s indoor track before the morning clock had even struck ten, and it wasn’t like she could argue. With a boss? Maybe. With a client? Perhaps. With the governor’s brother who called himself their “Alpha?” Not a chance in hell.
She had taken the revisions with her usual chipper smile and set back to her home office to fix her “mistakes.” It had taken the better part of the morning and several cups of coffee to finish, but she finished with a flourish and rolled the prints up to take back. The community was bustling in the heat of the day, and she smiled at the passersby favorably. For the most part, they returned it, having accepted her presence among them. There were still a few who didn’t know what to do with the Anders family, but with every friendly meeting, that group was shrinking. Soon it would be nonexistent completely.
Behind her on the way back up to the Robespierre’s, Margot heard Dean. No doubt he was on his way to brown-nose, and before he caught up to her to chat, she let herself paint on a languid smile, slowing her strides let him fall instep beside her. Oh, Dean. Oh, oh, oh. Dean. Had she been ten or twenty years younger, there wouldn’t have been a question. They would have been cozied up long before, but she was older, wiser. And Dean was dangerous. Most werewolf men were, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Dean had an edge to him – and an accent. Oh yes, he was very dangerous. And she was supposed to be older and wiser. ”Wretched? Surely you can’t be done in by a bit of heat, Mr. Tomlinson.” She shook her head in mock disappointment and shock.
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Post by Dean Joseph Tomlinson on Oct 15, 2019 23:27:58 GMT
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| Dean wanted to rise up the ranks and prove to everyone around him, and to himself, that he was someone who was worth something. His parents were members of a pack that couldn't keep them alive from hunters, and he wouldn't run that risk with Henri. He loved his sister too much to risk her life by being weak. He wasn't weak. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his sister and being there for the Robespierre family was critical for that. He was all that she had left, and he would do anything for her. Sometimes that meant doing things that he would never tell Henri about. The bruises on his knuckles from those who spoke out against the family, a baseball bat in the trunk of his car with some suspicious stains on it. He took lives at the whim of the Robespierres and he didn't regret it. He would do what it took for him and for Henri to survive.
Spying Margot walking ahead, he was consumed with thoughts about the werewolf woman ahead of him. Anyone with eyes would have the same thoughts. She was gorgeous. Werewolf women were a dangerous breed and he loved that edge. He loved watching the bearing of teeth over disagreements. He loved watching the flash of the beast when he rolled with one of them on his sheets. He craved Margot for her curves and that wicked tongue. Oh her wicked tongue. She could lash insults at him that would drip like honey. He wanted to lap up each burning verbal shot she took at him.
"Mr Tomlinson? Are we really that formal?" He asked with a smirk, knowing that he would do just about anything to be less than formal with her. "London at least has the promise of winter and snow around the corner. I fear that Louisiana doesn't have the same." He said with a smile, enjoying the mental image of Margot bundled up in a flurry of London snow.
"Heading to the main house? Mind if I walk with you?" He asked with a charming smile. She was gorgeous and he enjoyed seeing how she was with her daughter Maddie. He wanted to be there for her. Make a couple more stains on his baseball bat if it meant the Anders family being safe.
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The way the parts of me / They always disagree / It's a wonder that this body doesn't break.
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Post by Margot Claire Anders on Oct 20, 2019 3:57:58 GMT
| ”I know you, and it’s always better to let you know where you stand, Mr. Tomlinson,” Margot said, peeking over the top of her sunglasses at the absolute specimen of a man. Her voice had a tinge of honey to it, and she openly looked at him up and down. ”No, I can’t say snow is on the horizon. You could swim well into winter if you really wanted,” she informed him. Snow was foreign to her outside of vacations. It happened once in a blue moon, but she certainly wasn’t holding her breath. She preferred the colder temps to the sweltering, smothering heat, she had to admit.
”I am heading that way, so I don’t suppose it’s illegal for you to walk with me,” she told him with a small shrug. ”As long as you keep your distance, of course.” He was entirely too much fun to mess with. Werewolf men in general were. They were a whole different breed to the corporate suits she had rubbed elbows with in Houston. She had to admit that she liked the danger, even if she didn’t like ascribing to the whole “werewolves are all beasts” mentality. She was still adjusting to living with so many of her own kind. She thought it would be easy to slip into, but so far she had been mistaken.
But Dean was very, very useful. ”So, what errand are you running for the family in the castle?” she asked as she readjusted the prints in her hand. The Robespierres were a species unto themselves, but she was curious about them and their goings on. They were the head honchos for all of New Orleans and Louisiana beyond, and as such, she was very interested in getting into their good graces. She wasn’t above wheedling her way in. ”They put you to a lot of work, don’t they? They’ll work you into the ground if you let them.”
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Post by Dean Joseph Tomlinson on Nov 13, 2019 3:40:33 GMT
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| She knew him. A devil smile crept across his lips as he thought of all of the ways he wanted to know her.
"You could know me much more intimately, Miss Anders. All you have to do is ask." Images of timid little kisses and sweet hand holding in the snow was instantly replaced with a roaring fireplace and Maggie's roars for more.
"Only if I have some company during those swims. Suits optional, of course."
Dean smirked when she accepted his offer to walk with her. Margot was beautiful and she was as close to regal as any of the rabid beasts could get to. He scoffed at the addendum about keeping his distance,
"Don't make demands that we both know you wouldn't want me to keep." He stepped closer to her, falling in step with her. Being around such a big and bold pack was a refreshing change for Dean. In London they were constantly hunted and destroyed for who they were. A part of him would always feel guilty for leaving his ex in London but he wanted to leave and she didn't. He had to be somewhere where he could be safe and thrive. Stealing looks at Margot, he knew that he would do more than thrive with her.
"Errand? Making me sound like their bitch boy, innit?" He said with a grin and shoved his hands into his pockets to reduce the risk of grabbing something else within reach.
"Just checking in on various partnerships the family has within the community. Think of me as public relations." He said with a smirk and knew that his bloody baseball bat would say something other than PR, but that was the best he was going to have for her.
"I'm good at what I do, no complaints yet." He looked her over pointedly when he said that,
"What about you? Business with the Robespierres?"
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The way the parts of me / They always disagree / It's a wonder that this body doesn't break.
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Post by Margot Claire Anders on Nov 27, 2019 5:25:47 GMT
| M aggie almost laughed, but there was an impish gleam in her eyes. ”You know, my mama always warned me about men like you, and I would like to heed her warning.” She shook her head and ‘tsk’ed at him. ”I’m sure there’s so many young women here who would love to take you up on the offer, but I’m a bit older and wiser than that.” She had been around the block a time or two with men like him. It never ended well.
”Oh, I could make some demands of you, but I hardly doubt you’d like them,” she teased him, pretty well figuring out where his mind was going at the comment. ”The back stair has come loose, and I positively demand you fix it,” she added after a beat, just so they were on the same page. She could just see him in her back yard, expecting more than lemonade for his hour’s work.
She had no doubt he was their little bitch boy. It’s what shielded him from repercussions for his favorite parts of the job. Maggie snorted, shaking her head. ”I’m afraid I would have to see your degree, boy, before I believe you’re in PR. A degree and plenty of reviews.” She eyed a woman who passed them on the path, one who was practically giggling at the sight of Dean. She rolled her eyes. ”I’m sure she’d give you a good review and then some,” she scoffed. She definitely was not above pretending she didn’t see what others in the compound saw in him. For some women, he was like a barely-leashed beast, something they could flirt around with and then dance out of the range of his runner. It was a waste of the man’s attention, especially when he was worth so much more. The little Robespierre lap dog who wanted nothing more than her in his lap. Oh yes, he had plenty of uses.
”Oh always.” She leaned toward him, closer than she perhaps should have dared. ”Actually, all of my work with them is a cover for my affair with Caroline. It would be disastrous if it got out, though, so you best keep a lid on it.” She winked at him before continuing on their way, feeling rather smug with herself.
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