Chapter 12

My brothers are stupid and reckless. I'm inclined to tie them together and set my flame upon their heads until nothing remains but a pile of bone shards.

After a sleepless night with the pack in Nottingcook Forest, during which Owen eagerly volunteered to destroy a target with a long history of gross vehicular manslaughter while intoxicated, I came home to a quiet, dark house, and was able to get forty minutes of sleep before my world turned upside down.

Two tornadoes touched down in our front yard, one a dark gray color, and the other bright red. Except they weren't tornadoes. Instead, they were other alien dragon shifters who reside in Europe––Italy and Scotland, to be exact––and decided to pay us, their "cousins," a visit after the bouncy dark-haired one felt Mylo's presence in Italy while he was on honeymoon with Sam. They tracked Mylo back here and wanted to make an official introduction.

Were they invited? No. Did they alert us to their travel plans ahead of time? No. Yet Mylo is acting as if their presence in our town is somehow a good thing, and we should become allies with them. My idiot brother even exchanged numbers with them.

What bothers me most, apart from the dark-haired one––Dante, I think his name is––acting as if we'd be lucky to have them in our corner, is that I had no prior knowledge that other aliens existed on this planet.

This is the primary function of Andrei's job. I hired him to secure a contract with the U.S. government to monitor any suspicious activity that could be considered UFOs. The contract was easier to get than I anticipated. "The government doesn't want to waste their manpower on this shit," Andrei explained to me at the time. "Most of the higher-ups don't believe they exist, so they're inclined to make reported sightings disappear as soon as possible. There's already a public perception that the government knows they're real and is hiding evidence. The sooner they can jump on a sighting and chalk it up to a civilian's overactive imagination or a bad trip, the happier they are."

The only way Dante and his brother––tikanos, as he called them, from Planet Nocturna Tora––could've sidestepped this monitoring system is if they were here before us. That doesn't sit well with me either.

And now Charlie has learned that her husband, Zev, is not a human man, like she thought, and is instead a dragon from another planet with strange European cousins. Charlie left the house moments ago, needing time to process this discovery.

This is a multi-layered mess, involving too many people, and I am far too tired to remain composed. Charlie and Zev are not officially mated yet, and not only is she now aware of what we are, but Zev just let her leave, prioritizing her emotions over the danger she could be putting us in.

"Should we be worried that she knows the truth about us, and we let her drive away?" I ask, irritated that I'm the only one considering this.

"What would you have me do?" Zev snaps. "Lock her in the basement until she agrees to solidify the bond?"

He doesn't have to be such a child about it. "Very well. What we should be talking about are those sneaky fucking tikanos, Dante and Ronan," I add. "Don't call them, Mylo."

"Why not?" Mylo asks. "They don't seem like a threat. If they wanted to attack us for trespassing, they would have." Although he likely means they had the opportunity to react while he and Sam were in Italy, I am not convinced. The moment Mylo felt their presence, he and Sam left the country.

"It would be good to have an ally outside the U.S.," Luka notes. "They can alert us to other outsiders who arrive. We need to do more to track that anyway."

Fools. All of them. If they bothered to ask what I do for a living rather than mercilessly mock me for how much time I spend away from the house, they would know I have that covered and require no assistance from those European pricks.

I scoff at Luka's suggestion. "We don't need them for that. In fact, we don't need them for anything."

"Oh, are you saying you have the ability to track aliens entering Earth's atmosphere all by yourself?" Axil asks with a smirk.

If my right hand had not so recently been responsible for the look of sheer ecstasy on Naomi's face as I made her come in my office, I'd use it to knock a few teeth out of Axil's mouth. But I need to keep that hand in top form for my little vampire. He doesn't realize how lucky he is.

"What if I am?"

Axil, Luka, and Mylo start laughing hysterically. "Is that how you spend your days in your high-rise corporate office?" Luka asks. "Making spreadsheets and hacking into Area 51?"

My patience has reached its limit, and if I don't leave, someone is getting pummeled. Letting out a steady growl, I march out of the room, flipping one of the counter stools in the kitchen as I pass. One of the legs breaks in three places.

"You're paying for a new one," Mylo shouts.

What does he care? It's not his stool. "You don't even live here anymore!"

* * *

When the work week begins, I'm still fuming over the visit from Dante and Ronan and at my brothers for being so quick to trust these new aliens, but at least Charlie and Zev have resolved their conflict. All it took was my willingness to let Zev electrocute me with a laptop, and Charlie felt she could count on Zev to protect her and Nia. They're a strange pair, and I don't understand their bond, but as long as my brother is happy, I suppose that's what matters.

My face healed quickly, but it wasn't pleasant feeling my skin sizzle against the top of that MacBook. I hope he keeps that in mind the next time he feels inclined to give me shit about my job.

I slow my car to a stop a few feet past Naomi's driveway. She texted me late last night requesting I stay on the road, to avoid being seen by her cell mates. Every part of me comes alive, buzzing at the knowledge that Naomi will be within reach in mere minutes. My hands don't seem to know what to do when they're not on her skin. Not that I've spent much time touching her thus far, but I know I need more.

Yes, more.

One moment inside her hot, wet cunt, and my draxilio has become Mr. Chatty. He won't shut up.

Soon, I send back, trying to calm him.

Perhaps I've been lonely, and that simple fact can explain this new, insatiable need, but I don't think that's it. I run hot. Hotter than the average human, due to my inner flame. Naomi runs cold. I expected her to be unpleasantly cold, like hugging an iceberg, but it's not like that. Holding her is akin to pressing a cold beverage to a sweaty forehead on a hot afternoon. There's relief in her icy touch that reaches the center of my marrow.

"Hi there," she says when she climbs into the passenger seat. Her hair is swept up in a twist, making her elegant neck look longer than usual, with little pieces of it falling around her face. Large sunglasses cover her eyes, and her plush, perfect lips are the color of cherry blossoms. The wide brim of her hat takes up the majority of her side of the car.

"Wow." I'm instantly vexed at the distance it puts between us. "Is it supposed to be sunny out today?" I ask, looking at the cloudy sky above.

"It is," she notes, "but not yet." Then she knocks the hat off her head and pulls me in using my tie.

The brush of her lips catches me off guard, but I have no problem with it, and I quickly melt into her. Recalling her first day as my assistant, I thought she was kind, but meek. Since then, she has continued to surprise me, and this, right here, is the best part. She takes charge, and it's exactly what I crave. Would she be willing to take this dynamic further? I have yet to find a woman who's interested in playing that role, but it seems Naomi might be open to it.

Before long, our tongues are swirling around each other, and a jolt of electricity shoots to my throbbing cock at the sound of her breathy moan. I picture her eager lips wrapped around me, sucking hard, struggling to fit me in, her tongue tracing my ridges, and my hips buck in my seat. My need for her sets my skin on fire, and my draxilio rumbles in approval deep inside my chest.

When she pulls away, her lips are swollen from my kiss and more of her hair has escaped her twist. Then she begins to sneeze. The sound reminds me of a cartoon mouse being tickled, and it's the most adorable noise I've ever heard. The cloud cover seems to have disappeared, and a bright beam of sunlight shines directly on her face. I laugh as four more rapid sneezes burst from her, and she frantically puts her hat back on.

"I told you," she mutters, slightly out of breath from the sneezing fit. "Ugh, that sucked."

"I respectfully disagree. It very much did not suck."

She pokes me with her elbow. "Oh, you find my allergic reaction funny, do you?"

"Only because I know it's not dangerous. Also because it's cute."

"Cute?" She shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

I wonder how mad she would be if I hid that hat on the next sunny day, just so I can watch her sneeze.

"How was the rest of your weekend?" she asks when I merge onto 93 south.

"Irritating."

She pauses, as if waiting for my reply. When I don't elaborate, she asks, "What happened?"

"I won't bore you. My brothers are dipshits, and I didn't get enough sleep. Let's leave it at that."

"Sounds like you need more of Naomi's special treats."

My stomach growls in response and she laughs.

"How about my mom's famous almond cookies?"

"Almond is the flavor? That sounds dull. No offense to your mother, of course."

"It's okay. I get it, but you're wrong. It's a subtle flavor compared to the mango cupcakes, but they're equally delicious, with a crumbly texture and the right amount of crisp, topped off with a sliced almond. You'll love them. I promise."

"I trust you." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Do I trust her? Not entirely. Trust isn't something that comes easily for me. Though I suppose when it comes to desserts, I do trust her.

We make it to the office ten minutes late, but I don't care. No one is going to reprimand the CEO for being tardy.

"Ah, there you are," Thea says when I exit the elevator. Spoke too soon. Her gaze shifts between me and Naomi and a crease forms between her eyes. "You…arrived at the same time? That's some convenient timing."

"No, we drove here together," I reply, looking down at Naomi. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as her cheeks redden.

"Huh." Thea's expression is unreadable. "Well, it's certainly great for the environment. Kyan, we should prep for that meeting I emailed you about."

"Sure," I say. "Let me get settled and figure out where to squeeze it in. Probably late afternoon."

"Okay, sounds good."

"She's onto us," Naomi whispers once Thea is out of earshot. "We're so fucked."

"No, I don't think so," I say, replaying the interaction in my head. "If she is, she'll ask me about it later. Don't worry."

It's impossible to concentrate on work when I can stare through my glass wall at Naomi's plush backside all day. The back of her chair blocks most of it––blasted thing––but she gets up to do something once an hour, and my breath catches at the full view. She catches me each time and gives me a knowing, heated smirk. It makes me long for five o'clock, when everyone will leave and I can have her all to myself.

I don't get the chance to meet with Thea until the very end of the day, but luckily, when I do, she doesn't mention the moment with Naomi. Her sole focus is on the meeting with the buyer. After referring to the notes I made in my reply as "non-definitive and unhelpful," she tells me more about his background. I promise not to phone it in when the buyer comes to the office, and she seems satisfied with that. She leaves for the day shortly afterward, and as I lean against Naomi's desk, we realize in the same moment that we have the floor to ourselves.

My heart doesn't even have time to beat before Naomi's lips are on mine and my skin heats where her hands are pressed against my chest. It's as if my body is in stasis, and her very touch gives me life.

"I've wanted to do this all day," she moans against my mouth. "It's so hard to stay away from you when you look this good in a tie."

"You like my ties?" I ask. It seems like an additional barrier to remove and nothing more, but I'll wear them every day if she wants me to.

"Mm." Her fangs extend in her mouth, and she brushes the sharp points against my bottom lip.

My cock jumps at the sensation. Suddenly my head fills with images of Naomi leaving bite marks all over my chest, blood dripping down my stomach, and her licking my wounds clean as my blood paints her lips and chin the deepest shade of crimson.

She wraps the end of my tie around her wrist, pulling me flush against her. "I love your ties."

I don't hear the ding of the elevator until the flinty, high-pitched voice of my COO reaches my ears. "Would you believe I forgot my ke–"

Naomi must hear her before I do, because she shoves at my chest, putting a foot between us.

"Oh. Hey, guys," Thea says, her tone confused.

"Kyan," Naomi says, giving me an exasperated look. "How do you keep spilling food on your ties? And where did I put that Tide pen?" She looks around and starts digging through her desk drawers.

Thea clears her throat and awkwardly waves her keys at us. "Anyway…see you both tomorrow."

Both of us wait for the elevator doors to close, and then wait about ten seconds more before taking a breath.

Shit. Keeping this secret is going to be much harder than I thought.