by Haley Weir
Her soft hand slid through his fur, and he enjoyed the sensation thoroughly. No one else had touched him like that before. He lifted his head and licked her hand, up her arm toward the sensitive skin of her inner elbow. He let out a huff and stalked toward her bedroom, just barely squeezing through.
He shifted back into his human form and laid in her bed with his hands tucked behind his head. When Isabella appeared in the doorway, he grinned at her. “I’m ready to fulfill my promise.” And that he did.
Things in the Sinclair clan were better than Noah or any of his brothers could have planned for. Life was close to perfect, and the family made it a point to continue the Saturday morning get-togethers with their parents regardless of what life threw their way.
Ava and Mason had a healthy baby girl who they named Katie, after their grandmother. They had also decided to finally plan a wedding ceremony of their own now.
Olivia and Liam were happily married and honeymooned in Hawaii. The day before their wedding, they found out that Jared, Olivia’s ex, would be going to jail for the foreseeable future. She wasn’t the first woman he’d terrorized, and now justice was being served.
Sophie and Will also had a beautiful wedding. They did the opposite of visiting a tropical paradise like Olivia and Liam, and headed to Alaska to visit explore the glaciers and wildlife instead.
While Noah knew neither he nor Isabella were ready for marriage, they were now mated within the eyes of the pack. They also had a trip planned for Europe later that year, visiting several cities and countries including Paris once the winter holidays came and went. He’d started looking for engagement rings to pop the question during the vacation. Just because he wasn’t ready to be married didn’t mean he wasn’t ready for commitment. He was growing up, after all. Maybe his brothers were right...at least about this.
He couldn’t imagine his life without Isabella in it, and he would do everything he could to prove it to her each day they spent together.
*****
THE END
Fire Bound Protectors
Professor Drake
Chapter 1
Claire walked down the hallway of New York University’s history department building and rolled her eyes, wondering what the student body was protesting now. Geez, didn’t anyone ever let anything go anymore? Claire thought to herself. Last week, they were protesting the tourist fee for the Statue of Liberty, stating that such a historical monument should be free to the public in order to appreciate America’s heritage. Haven’t they ever heard of upkeep? Claire certainly thought that Lady Liberty looked a little worn around the edges lately.
“Come on, move along. Let’s get to class, people. There are midterm papers to talk about, and excuses for late papers that I’ll have to…” Claire trailed off as she pushed her way into the classroom. Her briefcase hung limply at her side as she stepped through the door and found a man sitting behind her desk. The man in question looked as if he would have been more comfortable on a battlefield in the days of yore, but he was making an effort to appear casual as he leaned back in the chair. Rather, her chair. She brought specifically from her apartment. It was ergonomic, with an exercise ball in place of the seat. She noticed he was bouncing on it lightly, and the muscles under his shirt flexed as he moved him up and down. Claire could see why the students had swarmed, causing a back up in traffic akin to seven a.m. on the Brooklyn Bridge. Heat blasted Claire’s body and ripples of pleasure tingled under her skin as she tried to remember what she had been doing a moment ago. Then, the man in her chair turned and finally made eye contact.
His eyes, so amber in the morning light, seemed to ignite when he saw her standing in the doorway. Suddenly, Claire felt like he had scorched her pencil skirt and blouse from her body. She felt heat creep up her neck, and decided that she would miraculously sink into the floor if it found its way to her cheeks. She allowed irritation to take its place, which offered a whole new sensation of heat. Claire tossed her head back, remembered her faculties, and marched right up to the desk. She dropped her briefcase on it to fully get his attention.
“Who are you and what are you doing at my desk?” she asked.
The man stopped bouncing and she was annoyed. She almost wished he hadn’t; the movements reminded her of something she had done in bed with…oh please, get a grip on yourself Claire! She shook her head once more and bit her lip, tapping her boot-clad foot on the floor impatiently as she waited for his answer.
“I’m Professor Drake, and I believe this is my desk. Unless the post for Natural History was filled by someone else.” His voice was rich and melodic, and Claire hated the eargasm he gave her. No, no, no! She wouldn’t let herself think like that. She’d been down this road before; seduced by a big beautiful man who humiliated her by waltzing off with a cross between a supermodel and a sex kitten. He was way out of her league, and she learned her lesson about falling for pretty boys.
“Oh, I wasn’t aware they had filled the post.” She folded her arms over her chest and hated how the movement seemed to only accentuate her breasts, and made her feel silly. Her skin felt tight and hot. She unfolded her arms to avoid further embarrassment, and because she didn’t want to come across looking like a petulant child.
“I was offered the position last night,” he explained. The man sat back and folded his hands behind his head. His lips twitched as she processed this. “And who, might I ask, are you?”
Claire tugged at her collar. “I’m TA LaFaevre. I’m the teacher’s assistant who has been running the class.”
“Ah, very good, a TA. Well Miss LaFaevre, I can assure you I will most certainly appreciate any efforts you make in assisting me. But I am confident I can bumble my way through today to get a rhythm of how the class runs. I look forward to meeting with you during my office hours so we can discuss…” He leaned forward, and Claire couldn’t help but take a step back. She was vaguely aware of the other students filing in behind her. “How you have run things in this position, and where the class is with their current…excuses, as you put it.”
“I grade papers,” Claire blurted out, and her cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment and panic. Of course he knew she graded papers. Every Professor here has a teacher’s assistant who grades papers. The corners of his eyes crinkled, but his face remained passive. If he started to laugh at her, she was fairly certain she would turn around and run out of the classroom. She never lost her composure and sense of professionalism like this. Why did his man’s intensity, which was rolling off of him in waves, affect her so much? For that matter, why was his intensity affecting all of the women in the class? Claire looked around and saw all of them stare at him longingly, and watch her with loathing.
“I’m sure you do a fine job grading papers, Claire. Please feel free to take your book bag and have a seat. You don’t need to carry the workload entirely by yourself any longer.”
“I…I don’t mind,” she whispered. He nodded, and she didn’t know why her name passing through his lips made her feel like she was a toddler, learning how to follow the rules like a good little girl.
“I know. But rest assured, I have very broad shoulders, and I am capable of carrying a heavy load. I’m fiercely protective of the things I am passionate about and will bear the weight, however immeasurable it might seem.”
Claire was slightly taken aback by his impassioned speech. Was he talking about History now, or something else entirely? Claire picked up her briefcase, and with the scorching cheeks she had sworn she wouldn’t wear, made her way to the back row and took a seat. She couldn’t help but let her mind wonder what specifically Professor Drake was referring to in his last comment. Was he really that passionate about teaching and managing the workload of a Natural History class? His baritone voice reached the rear of the classroom as he began his introduction, and Claire quickly found herself curious about another thing: how had he known her first name? She hadn’t given it to him. As if reading her mind, Drake winked at her from the front of the classr
oom. The sunlight caught the amber of his eyes, and they appeared to ignite into flames before he turned away and it flickered out.
Chapter 2
Drakkain watched as the feisty TA walked to the back of the classroom and took her seat. For a moment, his inner beast wanted to prowl down between the rows, scoop her up, sit her pretty ass on a desk, and then spend hours making her his in every way possible. Too bad for the beast that the damn suit he had fitted at the tailors yesterday restrained him from doing so. Well, that and a classroom full of students watching him. He didn’t so much care about anyone who might enjoy the show, but his patience was tested yesterday at Tuck and Threads. He didn’t fancy going back to have all of the seams re-stitched. Not that a suit could contain his beast if it wanted out.
Gods, he missed his home in the North. He remembered the day when he sat his brothers down to tell them that they needed to integrate into modern society and find human mates. He and his brothers were content to remain in their state house that had been in his dragon-line ever since New York was colonized. They hadn’t bothered much with the outside world. Hudson Valley proved to contain the wilds they needed to stretch their wings without being discovered, and they had a butler who managed their contact with the rest of the world. But then the Serpentina discovered their hideout. The Serpentina were the remaining female dragons, and they had turned vicious and cruel. Their wombs dried up long ago, and as ruler of the Dragon-kind, it was up to Drakkain to come up with a plan to ensure their continued survival.
So, here he was: in New York City. Wearing a suit that made his skin feel even tighter around the scales and wings that were constantly threatening to burst from within. He chose to teach history because the funny thing about textbooks was how often got the facts wrong. He had been there throughout the development of New York and was able to awe-inspire the Dean of the University with his knowledge. His butler, Corey, procured all of the appropriate licenses Drake needed to obtain the post. To add fuel to the fire burning inside of him, he felt a rush of blood to his dick when the TA stormed up to him, demanding to know who he was. It was a lust he hadn’t felt in decades, and his beast was just as intrigued as he was by the rekindled sensation.
As he began his lecture, he winked at the vixen with the strawberry blond hair and the angry green eyes. He and his brothers coveted the unique gemstones of the world. Her eyes looked like some of the most rare gems he had ever seen, but in the form of living, breathing flesh. Drakkain suppressed a smile at her disconcerted look . She looked like she was ready to get up and storm out of the classroom, but he had quite enjoyed their banter a moment ago. He wanted her to stay and be intrigued enough by him to meet after hours in his office. But he didn’t care under what pretense. All he knew was, when he looked at her, his gut reaction was: “she’s mine.”
“Good morning class. I’m Professor Drake. You can call me Drake, if you like.”
“But is that your first name or your last name?” said a meathead sitting in one of the middle rows. Drake turned to look at the upperclassman, and noticed he was wearing a jersey. From what he knew, the jersey was significant to the University.
“Yes.” He smiled as the bulked-up beefcake looked confused. He could practically smell the chemicals oozing out of the man’s pores. As a chorus of questions and confusion erupted around the room, he caught Claire’s eye and saw the tiny smirk twitching at the corner of her lips. When she noticed him staring, her face deadpanned and she looked down at her notebook.
“Can anyone tell me some common last names?” He looked around the class. Every female hand shot up in the air except Claire’s. He was hoping she would answer, as his eardrums were aching to catch a note of her melodic voice again. He fielded a few answers and wrote them on the board. Then he took one of the more known names, Smith, and began his lecture. “Hundreds of thousands of people in the United States share the last name Smith. Am I correct?” A collective nod circled the room. He noticed Claire wasn’t paying attention, and his annoyance caused his eye to twitch. He wanted her to look at him. He directed his focus on her, and almost as if he had said the words “look at me” in her head, she slowly looked up. “Can you tell me why that is, Miss LaFaevre?”
“Throughout history, the way people differentiated names was with a first name, and whatever particular vocation they held. So a smithy named John would have been John Smith,” she answered swiftly.
“Very glad to see you’re paying attention to me, Miss LaFaevre.” He could see her face turn red even though she was at the back of the room. She mumbled something and bent her head low over her notebook. Drake turned his attention back to the class. They observed the interactions between the two, and were intently engaged, listening closely to every word he said. “Right, let’s take a look at some of the more prominent names of New York and see if we can’t figure out their origins. How about we start with Rockefeller and, perhaps, Vanderbilt?”
The entire class was keen to hang onto his every word, and he heard the occasional scribble of a pen across a notebook. Still, he attempted to make the lecture interactive. The more people thought they were important enough to be included in a conversation, the more they were likely to take charge, which left him free to observe Claire. She seemed to be the kind of student who listened attentively to the opinions of everyone in her class, and formed her own opinions. But she didn’t offer any suggestions as to the origin of historical names. He wondered if that was because she had gotten to used to teaching and allowing students form their own opinions that she forgot to express her own.
She would have to get used to being a student again, because he could think of a lot of things he intended to teach her, Drake thought. The problem was, he was sensing a lot of hostility whenever she looked at him now. He figured it was because she thought that this late in the term, she wouldn’t be replaced. She must have assumed that she would be able to finish her senior year with the TA position on her record, which would give her a leg up into a teaching position of her own.
Whatever the case may be, Drake was very familiar with the hostility of females. He suffered loss and injury at the claws of his female counterparts, far away in the Hudson Valley in nightly battles that raged above the inky waters of the Hudson River. He would be very careful to give her the leeway she needed.. While he was unaccustomed to ceding control to anyone, he could create the illusion that she was in control until he had seduced her completely.
Drake finished the lecture with an essay prompt for the students to choose a native New Yorker to research, and report on the history of the family for next week’s class. As the class filed out, he gestured to Claire, who looked like she was ready to bolt out the door. She paused when he beckoned her to the desk, and he waited for the students to leave before speaking. He wanted this time with her to be theirs alone.
“I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I don’t want to be stepping on each other’s toes. I would like very much if you would participate in my class. I think you have valuable insights to provide. Your input would be beneficial for the students...and for me,” he admitted.
Drake shuffled some papers on the desk faux-thoughtfully. He sat in the chair behind the desk and smiled up at her, hoping the friendly look would soften her aura a bit. He should have known to expect the worst when her aura didn’t change one bit, but she returned the smile and said, “You don’t need to worry about me stepping on your toes or providing insights. You said that you could ‘carry a heavy load’ no matter how immeasurable, so I’ll take you up on that. You see, I’m dropping this class as soon as I walk out that door.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving him sitting there, gaping open-mouthed at her audacity.
Chapter 3
Claire walked back down the hall, determined not to look back to see whether or not he was following her. It didn’t help that the student assistance office was at the far end of campus in a different building. She wasn’t thrilled about having to walk all the way there, and t
hen to her next class, but if dropping the class was a way to get away from him, that was what she was going to do.
Claire felt a vice-like grip on her arm, and jumped in shock. She whipped around and found herself staring up into the eyes of Drake, who looked irate. But when she looked at his hand on her arm, he dropped it immediately.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I am unaccustomed to sharing the position of...with...” he stammered.
“Power? With...a woman?” She was skeptical of the man already, but if he thought that just because she was a woman, she didn’t deserve just as much respect as he did...
“It’s not because you’re a woman.”
How was he doing that? Claire questioned. How could he be picking the thoughts right from her brain?
“Damn it. I’m doing this all wrong.” Drake ran his hands through his ebony hair and bit his lip. It was distracting to the point of madness because all Claire wanted to do was lean up and bite it for him. She cleared her throat and looked around at the other students, who were staring at her. “Please,” Drake began. The word sounded foreign coming from him. Claire assumed he was a man unaccustomed to asking for the things. He probably had people waiting on his every beck and call. “Please, don’t drop the class. I really could use your help getting up to date on…many things.”
Claire searched his face and had the strangest sense that he had been out of touch with the city for a while. Had he been traveling? Exploring? A lot of professors gained their expertise by venturing to the most historical sights around the world. His features were certainly exotic. He wasn’t American. At least, not originally. The lilting accent that rolled off his tongue was a testament to that as well. English hadn’t been his first language. She wondered what else he could do with that rolling tongue.
