Love and Whiskers

by Olivia Myers

  “And what if I decide not to take your advice? What if I decide to close it down? Would you keep working here then?”

  His words were quiet, but they hit Lexi in the gut like a fist. “I… what? No! You… Don’t be a moron, Duke! You have to take the money!”

  The anger and exasperation felt warm and familiar. She propped her fists on her hips and glared at him. Duke pushed both business plans away from him and shoved his chair back so he could get to his feet. He braced his fists on the desk and leaned over it, managing to loom over her despite the two feet of space between them.

  “Oh, I assure you, Blondie, I most certainly do not have to take your damn money!”

  “You stubborn ass! You would really turn down a loan from a friend just to…what? Save some of your damn pride?”

  He kicked the chair away, sending it crashing against the filing cabinet with a clang. Lexi flinched but didn’t back down. Duke’s nostrils flared as he shoved the massive desk to one side in a feat of bulging muscle and grabbed her by her shoulders.

  Lexi gasped at the feel of his hot, rough hands on her skin.

  “A friend? Is that what you are, Lex? My friend?”

  He snarled it at her, his cinnamon scented breath — from chewing his favorite gum, Big Red, and she hated and loved that she knew that about him — wafting against her cheeks. Unable to resist the alluring warmth of his body so close to her, Lexi’s hands rose and twisted in the front of his t-shirt.

  “Yes,” she croaked, clinging desperately to that word. Friend.

  Friends spent time together and made each other laugh and wanted the best for each other and were there when the other person needed them. Friends could even have sex more than once and still just be friends. She could do that. Friendship was safe.

  “Bullshit. I don’t do this with my friends.”

  And then he was kissing her, and Lexi was kissing him back and she was on fire with lust.

  She’d thought she remembered how drugging and powerful Duke’s kisses were, but she’d been wrong. His lips were satin smooth but so strong as they moved against hers, and his tongue was a sweet flame licking into her mouth.

  His hands shoved her vest off her shoulders and deftly unhooked her bra. A second later, the zipper on her skirt slid down and he dropped to his knees, pulling the silky fabric with him. Lexi panted, her hands on his broad shoulders as he divested her of her panties, boots, and socks… leaving her completely naked in middle of his office.

  Duke pressed hot kisses to her inner thighs and her belly, stroking the tender skin behind her knees as he drew her legs apart. When his mouth reached her center, Lexi cried out and buried her fingers in his hair.

  He devoured her, kissing her with every bit of the same passionate skill he used on her mouth.

  Lexi’s knees buckled. She would have sunk to the floor if Duke’s strong hands hadn’t held her up. “Duke!”

  He looked up at her, a wicked smile in his coffee colored eyes.

  She laughed breathlessly. “I… I don’t do this with my friends either.”

  The admission seemed to snap something within him. Duke surged upward, peppering kisses on her abdomen and breasts and throat until he made it to her mouth.

  She clawed at his t-shirt, wanting to feel his skin. All of his skin, this time. Duke obliged her, reaching back to pull it over his head.

  Lexi pushed him back against the desk, running her hands over every inch of his shoulders, back and chest. She pressed herself against his warm skin and rubbed like a cat. The faint swirl of rough, dark hair between his copper-colored nipples abraded the sensitive tips of her breasts, making her breath catch in her throat.

  “Christ, Lexi!”

  Duke’s hands tangled in her hair, dragged her back for another deep, wet kiss. She moaned, fumbling blindly at his belt buckle. It gave way with a muted clank and she yanked it free of the loops, tossing it haphazardly across the room.

  She took a moment to palm the rigid length of his cock through the soft denim before she pulled the zipper down and reached inside. They both groaned as she curled her fingers around him and began to stroke.

  Last time had been hot and incredible, but quick. And she’d been bound. She hadn’t had a chance to explore. At the time, she hadn’t cared.

  She did now. God damn if she didn’t care a lot. About everything.

  Duke managed to somehow toe off his boots without relinquishing her mouth. She heard them thunk against the floor as he kicked them away. Desperate to have him naked, she broke the heated kiss to shove at his pants.

  He shifted his hips obligingly, highlighting the delicious groove of his Apollo’s belt. Lexi bit her lip and whimpered. Sinking to her knees, she pulled at the legs of his jeans roughly, taking his socks with them.

  It was her turn to scatter nips and licks on his thighs and in the crease where his leg met his hip. She dragged her tongue through those tantalizing grooves, staring up into his glittering dark eyes as her hand pumped his shaft with tight, long strokes.

  “Lexi, baby…please.”

  Lexi licked a stripe along his length. Duke threw back his head and gave a shout of pleasure as her tongue flicked and rubbed against him.

  She could have happily stayed there, sucking and licking until he spilled on her tongue, but Duke tugged at her shoulders, urging her up.

  “Wait, baby, wait. Come here.”

  He caught her around her waist and lifted her up to his lips, pressing her along the entire naked length of his body. His shaft pulsed, hot and hard against her belly as he kissed her. He caressed her ribs and palmed her breasts to tease her aching nipples for a moment before gliding his rough palms up to cup her face.

  Drawing back just enough to meet her eyes, he stroked his slightly crooked nose alongside hers.

  “I want to be inside you again, Lex.”

  The words sent such a vivid spiral of pleasure through her body that Lexi gasped and shivered, goosebumps chasing themselves across her skin.

  “Oh, Christ. Yes!”

  She shoved at his shoulders frantically, urging him backward. Understanding, Duke swept his arm across the desk behind him, sending all the papers — including her meticulous business plans — fluttering across the floor.

  The office looked like a tornado had blown through it, but Lexi didn’t care. All she cared about at the moment was Duke.

  He lifted himself onto the desk in a maneuver that tensed his biceps and pecs and belly in a delicious display of muscle. Lexi’s mouth watered at the sight and she shuddered with the need to be touching him again.

  She got her wish a second later when he reached out his hand.

  Lexi paused. For a split second, she paused. She contemplated stopping. Stepping back instead of stepping forward. Putting her clothes on and walking out of the room and out of the bar and keeping to her ‘no repeats, no relationships’ rule. Keeping safe.

  Duke’s brows drew down.

  “Don’t be coward, Blondie.”

  Her chin came up. “Fuck you, boss.”

  His grin was bright and broad and heart-meltingly gorgeous. If she hadn’t been in love already, that would have done it.

  “That’s what I thought we were doing.” He wiggled his fingers.

  Lexi slid her hand into his and let him pull her up onto his lap. His cock slid against her inner thigh.

  Staring into his eyes, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his shaft. She guided him into her, rocking downward to sheathe him completely. Her right hand dug into the muscle of his shoulder as he filled her, stretched her.

  He stroked her hair back from her face, caressed down the long muscles of her back and curled his fingers around the soft flesh of her buttocks. His lips quirked as he squeezed gently.

  “I knew you were trouble the first second I saw you,” he said, rubbing his lips along her jaw.

  Lexi wrapped her arms around his neck and began to move her hips, lifting up and sliding down in a slow, rocking rhythm as inevitable as
the tide. She chuckled at his words.

  “Shut up and kiss me, you moron.”

  He did. He kissed her and tightened his grip on her ass, urging her to ride him. The wood of the desk creaked under them, providing an almost musical sounding counterpoint to their gasps and moans and sliding flesh.

  He kissed her, and she kissed him back, feeling the pleasure like a wave washing through her, rising and crashing and ebbing only to rise and crash again. He kissed her while she called his name, swallowing the sound and then giving her her own name back while his body shuddered and spasmed inside hers.

  Duke kissed her as she lay limp and panting against his sweat-slick chest. He kissed her hair and her eyelids and the tip of her nose. He kissed her breasts and her chin and lips. Her lips, over and over until they were swollen and sore, and she still didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t think she’d ever want him to stop.

  Yeah, she was definitely in trouble.

  Lexi huffed a ragged laugh against the warm, smooth flesh of his shoulder.

  “I guess repeats aren’t so bad after all.”

  She kissed the laughter from his lips and started all over again.

  THE END

  In the Arms of the Dragon

  Cassandra stepped off the elevator onto the gold-veined grey marble of the hundredth floor entryway, her entire body shaking like Jell-O in an 8.0 earthquake. She paused and inhaled a long, slow breath through her nose, her eyes scanning her opulent surroundings.

  The marble floor was the least of it. There was gold leaf on the moldings, priceless artwork on the walls. Even the woman perched behind the curve of the reception desk looked like a perfect, icy blond sculpture.

  The joke down in admin was that you couldn’t even set foot above the ninetieth floor of the Chimera Building unless you earned at least six figures. Cassandra was so out of her depth.

  She smoothed shaking hands down her black pencil skirt. When she’d left her apartment that morning, she’d felt like a million bucks in her sleek skirt, a drape-necked coral silk blouse that the woman at the store had assured her brought out the creamy undertones of her pale skin and looked “smashing” with her honey blond hair, and a much-coveted-and-long-saved-for pair of black suede Jimmy Choos.

  Compared to the slim woman in all white who lifted her head to rake her with her gaze, Cassandra now felt overstuffed, greasy, and cheap; like off-brand sausage.

  Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to take the remaining steps to the desk, chin up. She met the Nordic beauty’s cold blue eyes, trying to ignore the flutter of her heart at the company name — more gold, of course — above the receptionist’s head.

  Burning Stone Holdings, LLC.

  Cassandra felt sweat prickle along the nape of her neck and underneath her ample breasts. Dragons, her brain screamed. Run!

  But she couldn’t. Not unless she wanted to lose her job. And she really didn’t. She loved working for Chimera. Besides, she was twenty-two. It was past time for her to get over her fear.

  Coming in contact with shifters was a part of everyday life now. She had no problem with the shifters she worked with — foxes, eleven different types of bird shifters, a lynx, and even several wolves. She’d gotten over all her silly fears and prejudices in regards to them.

  Just because the dragons were the most notoriously territorial, acquisitive, ruthless, and dangerous breed didn’t mean there was any reason for her to fear for her life. It wasn’t as if she’d actually heard of them killing anyone who wronged them.

  It was just, the rumors…

  “How may I direct you?” The cool blonde’s slightly raised brows and pursed red lips made it clear she very much wanted to direct Cassandra back onto the elevator and away from her domain.

  Cassandra licked her lips, tasting her own peach gloss.

  “I’m — that is, Mr. Blackfeather sent me up. He said I’m to fill in for Bridget.”

  Thin blonde brows rose even higher and the receptionist’s lips pressed so tightly they showed white all around her bold lipstick. Her eyes crawled all over Cassandra. She felt as if the other woman was literally weighing her with her gaze, horrified as each pound added up.

  Cassandra knew that, as a size fourteen, she was considered ‘plus size’. Her overflowing bosom and wide hips and ass made that abundantly clear to anyone looking. But she also knew she was fit and healthy and had nothing to be ashamed of.

  She squared her shoulders and waited out the other woman’s judging appraisal, despite the butterfly trembling of her muscles and the clench of her guts.

  After a heavy moment, the receptionist sniffed through narrow nostrils and slid a hand under the desk. Cassandra heard a faint ‘click’ to her left and ornate steel doors (also trimmed in gold) parted slightly.

  “All the way at the end of the hall. You’re expected.”

  Cassandra murmured a distracted ‘thanks’ and placed a shaking hand on the door’s curled handle. The metal was cold under her fingers as she pulled, revealing a long, wide, brightly lit hallway beyond.

  As soon as she stepped past the doorway, the tall, heavy doors swung silently shut behind her. Sealing her in.

  Her heart stuttered in her chest.

  Mr. Blackfeather — her boss, a raven shifter and CEO of Chimera Corp — had told her almost nothing about what she’d be doing during her temporary reassignment to BurningStone. He’d just called her into his office (on the eighty-third floor, despite the fact that he owned the building) and told her that he’d offered her services to a friend whose assistant had become ‘suddenly unavailable.’

  The phrase was ominous before she’d even learned it was the dragon-owned BurningStone she’d be working for.

  Warren’s straightforward, “Because you’re the best we’ve got, after Marquesa,” in response to her shocked, “Why me?” had been little comfort as she rode the elevator up.

  She considered going back and making a case for her own incompetence, or to beg him to send Marquesa instead and let her fill in for Marquesa… But she loved her job and she didn’t want her boss thinking she was a slacker. Or a coward. And there was no way Warren would give up his own assistant.

  Everyone knew he valued Marquesa more than any other employee at Chimera.

  Cassandra took small steps down the quiet hall, not quite dragging her feet. She barely glanced to either side, trying to calm her rapid breathing. On one hand, she was excited by the idea of working with someone new. Mr. Stebbins, the Senior VP of Acquisitions, was bad-tempered, flighty, and hopelessly disorganized. Being his assistant was exhausting.

  There were rumors he was going to retire soon, and Cassandra had been praying they were true. She’d rather work for anyone other than Mark Stebbins. She’d said as much to Marquesa just last week.

  “Be careful what you wish for, poppet,” her Granddad used to say when she was little. “The gods have a funny way giving it to you.”

  Back then, she couldn’t possibly fathom how getting your wish would be bad. Now, mere feet from the enormous closed door of the corner office on the hundredth floor, Cassandra understood well.

  She’d wished to work for anyone but her aggravating boss, and now he she was about to step into the dragon’s lair.

  ***

  Rhys smelled her as soon as she stepped through the doors from reception. Ripe, sweet peaches first. Then, under that, the warm, creamy smell of skin. Just the faintest hint of salt. Sweat. Not just nerves, though there was that. Her fear was electric on his tongue, like the scent of the atmosphere before a storm. Martine Amici continued to ramble in his ear about the benefits of owning another international shipping conglomerate, but he was no longer paying attention.

  His hearing tuned to the panicked flutter of her pulse, the rapid, shallow, soft breaths.

  His own heartbeat sped, sending blood thundering through his veins. The fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end, vibrating with each tiny, tentative step closer she took.

  Rhys felt th
e lazy stretch of his other form beneath his skin. His vision wavered, flickering between normal and the extra sharp, color-saturated way he saw the world as a dragon.

  “I’ll call you back.”

  He hung up on Martine without another word, his hands curling into fists on the arms of his chair. His nail beds stung with the prick of phantom claws pushing forth. Rhys surged to his feet and strode to the balcony, shoving open the sliding glass door with a stiff hand. Through his nose, he drew in the crisp fall air drenched in the asphalt and gasoline aroma of the city, letting it overwhelm the delicate fragrance of the woman’s body… and her fear.

  It wasn’t like him to almost lose control like that. He was no hatchling.

  He’d flown just this morning, his massive wingspan eating up the distance between his palatial home in the Catskills and his office in the city, so that wasn’t it. The restlessness that was making his skin twitch even as the cool breeze swept over him had nothing to do with needing to stretch his wings.

  It was that scent. Peaches and cream and heat and prey. It made him want to hunt.

  Not that he actually ate humans. Not like that. No, he preferred to hunt prey of a different kind. And when he caught them… Blood pooled in his groin as he thought of the many entertaining nights and days he’d spent with his varied prey, the glide of slick skin and the gasps of pleasure, the wet, mineral and musk scent of sex.

  But still, that smell, the smell of fear, triggered something primal within him.

  It was clearly time to purge some of the names from his Contacts list. The same old hook-ups weren’t doing it for him anymore if the faintest whiff of some Nervous Nelly courier got his spine up. Time to hit one of the clubs and make a new acquaintance. Maybe several. Dragons were covetous creatures, by nature.

  A soft rap on the outer door caught his ear, even over the noise of the traffic below.

  Rhys stiffened as a fresh wave of that enticing aroma wafted to him and the quick thumping of his visitor’s heart filled his head. Not a courier then, or Ursula would have buzzed him.