Dragon VIP_Malachite

by Starla Night

  He shuddered, the aftershock of his release. “You make me forget everything but you.”

  Cheryl stroked his trembling belly. She felt the same way.

  The first time had been life-changing. There had been aching need and irritation he wasn’t already inside her where she needed him. Then, shock and awe when she forced him there. And, finally, uncontrollable passion as she discovered what it meant to belong to her lover and give him everything.

  This time was better.

  The pleasure was sweet and intense without any surprises. But more important, it was right. This was the male she loved. No matter his reason for pursuing her in the beginning, they belonged to each other now.

  “I forget, and that’s why we can’t do this anymore.” He lowered her to the ground. “I have a product line to launch. Get out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cheryl stumbled onto the vintage heels. Mal’s command to get out, only seconds after he’d cradled her in his arms while the aftershocks of an orgasm rippled through her in delicious waves, struck her like a slap. “What?”

  “You can’t come into my office again.” He left her at the collapsed conference table, strode to his closet, and tossed her one of his shirts and oversized pants. “It makes me lose my concentration.”

  The dismissal stung.

  She put on the clothes, buttoning the silk with shaking fingers. “So if I can’t come into your office, do I call you when I want to go home tonight?”

  “Have Jasper take you. And bring you back, too.”

  She paused. So he was breaking his promise to take her. “Are you coming home at all?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t. Not until the launch.”

  He was on a deadline. This was his last chance to beat his rivals. The company was going to be sold or destroyed in two weeks. She could wait.

  Except she couldn’t.

  Cheryl finished dressing. “Mal, you can’t take on everything yourself.”

  “I always have.” His teeth gritted. “I always will.”

  Amber’s talk returned to her memory. He wasn’t alone. This was a team effort.

  “Pushing everyone away isn’t going to make you a better performer,” she said. “Every artist needs a critique.”

  “I need no one.”

  Ouch. “No one? Not even me?”

  He stared at her for a long moment.

  Then he turned away. “Not right now.”

  Cheryl stood in the middle of the office in his ill-fitting pants and shirt and her crazy hair and she clenched her fists. Some residual power of the pinup clothes must be left in her. He needed her but not right now? No. That wasn’t okay.

  “You can’t dismiss me like I don’t matter,” she said. “I’m not just your employee anymore.”

  He rocketed to his feet. Anger blackened his features. “You were never my employee! Your boss is Jasper.”

  “Even so.”

  “If Sard Carnelian beats us again, we all lose! The only thing that matters is this company.”

  “That’s not the only thing that matters.”

  He blinked.

  “Your family matters,” she said. “Your health matters. I matter.”

  He bellowed. “I’m doing this all for you!”

  The sound washed over her like a violent windstorm. Yes, of course he was. He wasn’t doing this for vanity. He wanted to prove it could be done. To give hope to other low-class male dragons. To secure a nice future for her and to keep his siblings together.

  But he couldn’t do it all alone. And he couldn’t keep treating her in this hot-cold-hot manner.

  With the strength of her feelings from only minutes earlier, she continued to fight for her value.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He scrubbed his face. “Cheryl. Please. I don’t have time for you. Get out.”

  The casual dismissal of her declaration slapped her across the face again. Her whole face got hot. Her tongue grew two sizes in her head and her throat went dry and sharp. Her heart pounded like she was running in a race and she sweated like she was standing on a roaring fire.

  He scrawled something in the margin of a file.

  She took a stand in his office and stabbed her finger at him. “I said I’d marry you and I will. But you’re going to have to develop our relationship.”

  “My schedule is packed.”

  “Mal, look at me.”

  “I don’t have time for your distractions!” He clenched his pen. “If I look at you, I’ll lose it. I’ll take you in the middle of the office. And I’ll do it again. And again. Until I can’t think of anything else. Until all that exists is me and you.” He stabbed the notepad. “Don’t ask me to do this. Not right now.”

  Fine. Fine, fine, fine.

  She wasn’t like his mother. She wouldn’t make him destroy his company because he prioritized it and hurt her feelings. But his time was coming. This obsessive self-sacrifice could not continue.

  “Fine. I’ll take away my ‘distraction.’”

  God, she was such an understanding girlfriend. He better appreciate it.

  He scribbled something on his notepad. “Great. Get out.”

  Damn him. “But after this crisis, you will make time for me or you won’t have a wife!”

  He blinked in shock.

  With that forceful un-Cheryl-like declaration, she threw open the door of his wrecked office and stormed out.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The days passed by in agony.

  Mal stayed true to his word and forced himself not to see Cheryl. She was his reward. His rainbow after the storm. His light in the dark, dark sleepless nights. He couldn’t give in and see her early. He hadn’t earned her. He didn’t deserve to cuddle up beside her or stroke her soft curves or bring her to the peak of pleasure. He didn’t deserve her quiet competence of her sparkling conversation.

  Her final words played constantly in Mal’s mind while he was supposed to be concentrating on work.

  You will make time for me or you won’t have a wife.

  She’d looked so powerful as she snarled at him. Radiant, dragon-like, demanding. She claimed him so boldly. He accepted her claim with his whole being. Even now, his cock filled with the memory.

  He’d wanted to fly across the office, rip off the men’s clothes, and have her again.

  Which was exactly why he’d insisted she go.

  It had never been so hard to focus. Usually, he put his head down and slammed into his work. He needed to prove he was needed. He needed to prove he was worthy.

  But now he was conflicted.

  Cheryl said she wanted him. He craved to be with her. She almost sounded like she didn’t care if he was a number one company CEO. She wanted him anyway. Right now, even. Just the way he was.

  He was worthy just the way he was.

  No. That was impossible. He was so sleep-deprived his imagination was trying to trick him into giving into his deepest desires and going to her.

  He needed to take the company to number one this launch. His siblings were counting on him. They’d spent five years working together, seeing each other nearly every day, even if it was only in meetings. He’d felt more closeness and belonging and family here on Earth than anywhere in the universe. He wouldn’t give that up. And he didn’t want his failure to curse his siblings, forcing them into a fate not of their choosing.

  He’d started this company. He was damn well going to finish on his terms. Cheryl had to wait. He forced her from his mind.

  He couldn’t afford a single instant of distraction.

  “… Mal?”

  He jerked upright. Everyone at his newly repaired conference table was staring at him.

  Right. They were in the middle of a meeting.

  “You want to launch three outfits,” he growled, repeating the last thing he remembered Amber saying before his mind had wandered back to the last viewing he’d had of Cheryl in one of those outfits. “Instead of our usual one. We alrea
dy discussed this. It’s too expensive.”

  She acknowledged his criticism. “We might not break even.”

  “Yet you wish to do this anyway. And include an expensive free gift.”

  “Now’s the time to pull out all the stops,” Darcy said. “This is your one Hail Mary.”

  Mal barely understood those statements; the latter was a reference to sports. “We aren’t using your company, Darcy. What are you doing here?”

  “If your company gets dismantled, you all go away. I’d hate that.” The human male grinned with white teeth. “So I’m helping.”

  “Why? You’re not a member of our family.”

  “Yet.” His smile widened. “I have plans.”

  Amber fixed Darcy with a quelling stare.

  Hmm. What was Darcy saying? Did he wish to become a member of the dragon family? Ah, now Mal remembered. Darcy had sisters. Perhaps one of his sisters wanted to claim Alex or Jasper and then Darcy would become Mal’s brother-in-law. That must be how he would become one of them.

  If Mal’s mother was not satisfied with Mal’s marriage and promise of dragonlets, then the others were going to have to scramble to find women.

  Based on his experience with Cheryl, finding them wasn’t hard. Anticipating their happiness was far more difficult.

  He had prepared to tell her his wing bone finger strength, but she hadn’t asked him once! And not all dragons willingly confess their weakness.

  Still, Mal was starting to figure her out. She didn’t like to be abandoned at his house without transportation. She wished to eat and sleep at regular hours, and she preferred to do those activities with him.

  The memory of her other demands made his chest thrum. Yes, he was well beginning to understand her.

  You’re perfect just the way you are.

  She’d said that. It still jolted him. Some things about her were unfathomable.

  He enjoyed the challenge of figuring her out. She would surprise and entice him for the rest of their lives.

  Someone thumped his shoulder. “Mal!”

  He jumped.

  Pyro snorted. “Keep it together.”

  Hell fire. Mal scrubbed his face. “Proceed.”

  The dragons regarded each other.

  “So you agree to three outfits?” Amber pushed.

  “They scored well enough with the second round of test audiences, didn’t they?”

  She lowered her chin. Of course they had or she wouldn’t be having this discussion.

  “Start mass production only if you can finish before the shipment date,” Mal ordered. “If you can’t, then limit the launch to one.”

  Jasper leaned forward. “We will meet our launch window with all three outfits.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I took the liberty of producing the most popular outfit already. That production run is done so we can now concentrate on the additional two.”

  Everyone stared down the conference table at the stoic male.

  Mal’s lips curled back from his teeth. “Before receiving the top-level approval?”

  Jasper faced him solidly. His sandy brown hair shifted as he spoke. “I evaluated the situation and moved forward to meet our timetable.”

  “You don’t have the authority! I am the one who decides.”

  “We are supposed to take on your duties until—”

  “Until I found a wife! And I have found her!”

  Jasper closed his mouth. But resistance showed in all their faces.

  Dammit. “I have found a wife.”

  No one dared dispute him.

  Except one.

  Pyro sucked in a breath. Streaks of gold and red zipped up his arms as lines of scales emerged and disappeared again on his dangerous hands. “Mal. You—”

  He wheeled on Pyro. “You will not take this company away from me.”

  “No one’s trying to—”

  “You weren’t here, Pyro! You don’t understand.” He ignored the shocked look on his brother’s face as he seethed, his green claws emerging and digging into the conference table. “I have duties. This company is my responsibility. I dragged you here. I have to ensure it succeeds.”

  Down the table, Jasper’s lips thinned.

  His younger brothers defied him?

  Mal erupted from his seat. His fury rose to a roar. “I run this company!”

  The others clapped their hands over their ears. Darcy stared at him like he’d gone mad. He didn’t often lose patience in front of the human male but Mal was over the edge. Between the endless frustration of reliving Cheryl’s words and the razor’s stress of their looming deadlines, he needed sleep and stretching and Cheryl, and he wasn’t getting any of them soon.

  “Mal,” Pyro growled, “sit down.”

  Mal’s vision turned red. His siblings defied him. They all defied him.

  He gripped the table hard enough to splinter it. “I am this company!”

  Pyro rose and slammed his fist into Mal’s gut.

  The air whooshed out. He folded over. And it felt like Pyro’s fist remained stuck up there, lodged in his gut. Air refused to return to his lungs. His mouth gaped.

  Pyro helped him collapse into his executive chair.

  Red vision faded to normal colors. Mal finally sucked in a painful breath. His guts burned.

  Fire. His guts were on fire.

  Mal groaned. “Pyro…”

  Pyro dropped into the chair beside him again and rubbed his calloused knuckles. “Don’t be an aristocrat.”

  Mal narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. It felt like he was breathing through a straw. If Mal could get his breath back, Pyro would have a fight on his claws.

  Alex cleared his throat. “I think what Pyro’s trying to say is that we all understand and appreciate your concern. You’ve always felt responsible for us because you’re the eldest sibling and this company is your vision. Our success is owed to you. But, technically Mal, you don’t have a wife until next Thursday. Which is after the launch.”

  The day after the launch was the soonest Alex could schedule the human marriage ceremony. This way Mal would reward himself. He would launch the final product and then he would enjoy Cheryl.

  Soon. He just had to work a little harder. He had to make himself worthy. Then, she would never throw him away. She would never, ever betray him.

  “So the rest of us believe Jasper is within his rights to run the Operations division as he sees fit. And if Amber has budgeted three outfits for our last launch—”

  “Plus a free gift,” she said.

  “—then that’s her prerogative as our Chief Financial Officer. As Sales Manager, I have analyzed the successful sales tactics of our rivals, and I have acquired samples of their collectible free gifts.”

  Pyro rested on his elbows. “As Vice President, I sit back and relax. Darcy is here for moral support.”

  “And my charming personality,” Darcy said.

  “The point is, Mal, we’re all doing our jobs.” Alex sounded far less charming than usual and a lot more frank than his status as sixth brother gave him. “You have to trust us. This the most important launch of our lives. You can’t carry it all this time. And if you try, then you’ll collapse, and the company will collapse right on top of you.”

  Alex was wrong.

  Mal would carry this company long after his back broke. If his heart gave out, he would still carry it, dying upright. Not even in death would he let it go.

  “Flint…” Mal groaned.

  “Flint’s researching.” Pyro’s gold-brown gaze gleamed like he was hoping Mal would protest more so he could pound him again. “Probably.”

  Damn Pyro.

  Mal tried to straighten. His bruised belly cried foul. Sweat beaded on his brow.

  When Alex and Pyro spoke like everyone else was taking care of everything, what did they need Mal for, anyway?

  But all he could do was groan and cough.

  “You weren’t here,” he managed. When their mother had iss
ued her first edict, Pyro had been partying in a human prison.

  Pyro peeled back his lips from his teeth in a snarl. “I’m here now. So sit up and don’t speak. I’m leading this meeting.”

  His burning guts gave him no choice but to obey. Mal strained to his full height and leaned back in the chair waiting for his healing powers to fix the pain.

  Alex placed his briefcase on the conference table and revealed the gifts the Carnelians had distributed. “Here are the collectible art cards from their last three launches.”

  Pyro leaned forward. “Good work.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alex passed around the physical cards and also projected their images on the wall screen. They were cleverly drawn pictures of dragons wearing the clothes item the Carnelians were selling.

  From three launches ago, there was a dragon in a fuzzy bathrobe and slippers with a cup of coffee and a newspaper under one arm. Next, a dragon checking out his blushing butt cheeks in a fitting room mirror, exposed by black leather chaps. Finally, the card they were distributing on the silk pajamas the Carnelians had just launched today: a green dragon in gray silk looking pleased with himself.

  Damn them. It was easy to see why the products hadn’t been returned. Customers wanted to keep the clothes they had purchased because they were commemorated in these cards.

  “Customers are making images of themselves in the same poses, and sharing galleries,” Alex said, cementing Mal’s intuition. “That is sparking their popularity.”

  The Onyx Corporation needed something huge to compete. Sard Carnelian knew what he was doing. Was it his aristocratic blood that led him to understand the dragon customer psyche so well? Could a low-class Outer Rim family ever compete?

  Mal must and would beat Sard Carnelian. That aristocrat would not be number one forever.

  “I have analyzed Cheryl’s artwork and I’m confident she is capable of producing a similar style,” Alex said.

  Darcy snorted. “If you hadn’t told me, I would have guessed she was the artist.”

  “The Carnelians are using a human artist, clearly.”

  “Yeah, but that guy on the end there, in those silk pajamas. He looks just like her logo design you showed me the other day.”