30. Tuvid

30

TUVID

W e returned to Angie's office and studied the recipe. "Just like we thought, someone altered it. It's subtle. Only a brewmaster would notice." Sighing, she rubbed her face.

I took her seat, and she stood beside me while I ran a scan on her software, trying to see if I could determine if anyone other than her and Ikor had accessed the recipe for her most popular beer.

Finally, I read through the report.

"Anything?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing suspicious, though it may have been subtle. Whoever made the change and saved it must've had access. When did you last change the passwords?"

"We do it regularly, at least every quarter."

Which meant they'd been changed many times since Benjamin might know what it was.

"I know what you're thinking." She leaned against the side of her desk, shoving her hair off her face .

She was so pretty. I wished we had time to play, to have fun. I wanted to take her to the park and toss a ball around with her. Go fishing. Take long walks to see the sunset at the top of some nearby hills. Get down on my knees and tell her how much she meant to me already. But the clock was ticking, and I was no closer to tracking down her kegs than when I'd taken this job.

The knowledge burned through me like acid. I had to find her beer and not only because I'd promised. I wanted to do this for her. She deserved to have a chance in that contest. Losing because her beer wasn't considered the best was one thing. Losing because she didn't have a beer to enter was unfair, and I wasn't going to allow that to happen.

"What am I thinking?" Rising, I stood in front of her, sliding her silky hair off her face and over her shoulder. I leaned close and kissed her brow. Her nose. Her lips, though much too briefly.

"You're thinking about Benjamin's computer scientist father. But his dad works for the government. He'd be stupid to risk his career to help his son access a competitor's computer to change a recipe."

"Someone did it."

"Maybe Ikor did by mistake."

"You must have back-ups of all your files."

"We do. We'll restore to the prior recipe and move forward from here." Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes shimmered with tears.

That's what broke me the most. I gathered her into my arms and held her. "I'm sorry."

"I hate having to throw out a batch. This isn't something I can claim on my insurance, not if we don't have proof our system was hacked. It's a waste of ingredients, but also a drain on yet another part of my brewery. That batch was product I could sell, and now I have nothing."

"I haven't given up yet."

"I know you'll keep looking," she said, her voice muffled against my chest. "I hope you find something. Not because I want to make a claim. That poor adjuster is going to get sick of hearing from me. I just want this to be over. I want to move forward. I don't even care if I have my stout back to enter in the contest. I want my life to be normal again."

I lifted her, sitting her on the side of her desk, and she wrapped her legs around me.

Tilting her chin, I kissed her again, though I meant for it to be soothing, not anything blistering with passion. Her moan was nearly my undoing.

I stopped kissing her. "Now's not the time."

"It is. Can you help me forget if only for a few minutes? I feel like I'm spiraling through the air, about to hit the ground, and my tail's defective. I can't stand it."

"Angie," I breathed. "I adore you. I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

Her lips curled up on one side, and though her eyes sparkled with tears, they also held a bit of joy. "Then distract me. I know you're good for it, Tuvid."

"Oh, I'm very good for it."

"Show me."

I reached out with my wing, locking the door, then focused on my glorious mate. It was so easy to get lost in this woman. She meant everything to me. It wasn't about loving her body, though I craved her all the time. It was about touching her, bringing happiness to her eyes, and giving her the pleasure she needed to help her feel complete.

I cupped her face, and because she was so precious to me, I gazed at her for a long while. I could do this all day and night.

Laughter bubbled in her voice. "Stop staring and start distracting me." Her lips curled up. "Unless you'd prefer I continue crying instead."

"Why would you start crying again?"

"Because you're looking at me like you adore me."

"I do."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her finger in my face. "See? That's all it takes. Don't be nice to me!"

My low laugh rang out. "I can't be mean to you. I love you."

Her breath caught.

"I shouldn't have said that, right? I mean, I alluded to the fact that I was falling in love with you before, but outright stating it is a completely different thing."

"You did allude to that, but falling is different than fallen." Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her face. "Now you've done it."

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"Don't be sorry. You love me. How can I be sad about something like that? I just want to point out that I'm not wearing black, though I bet I'll be wearing the red tail. As long as it's tied to yours, I'll be okay with that." Her head tilted, and she looked up at me, sniffing. "Is it okay if the flowers are pink and we serve beef stroganoff? "

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I love you and you're not pointing your finger at the door and telling me to get out, so I'm taking that as a good sign." I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

"I think I'm falling in love with you too."

"Think?"

"I'm getting there." She sniffed again and grumbled. "Don't push me." More tears fell from her eyes, and I pulled tissues from my pocket and carefully wiped her face. I tossed them aside and kissed her cheeks, licking her tears, which made her laugh. "Some people would say that's strange, Tuvid."

"Me kissing you or loving you?"

"You know what I mean. Licking my tears." She sucked in a breath and released it. "Can you believe they have matching tote bags already? And dueling iPads."

I wasn't even going to ask what she meant, not when I was dying to kiss her, touch her, love her.

I started with her neck because it was oh-so-kissable, and I was rewarded when she moaned and clung to my shoulders. I unbuttoned her blouse and parted it, growling out my joy when I spied her red—red!—bra with bits of lace I was eager to rip apart with my fangs. Since I wasn't sure how she'd feel about me shredding her clothing, I opted to kiss across the tops of her breasts instead. That made my cock stand at attention. I felt like I'd crawled across a desert for three months without water and this woman was a crystal-clear glass of it waiting for me on a pretty table perched on the border. She was perfect for me; for my touch, my tongue, and everything else .

"Dueling iPads?" I murmured as I fumbled with her bra, vaguely remembering her mentioning them. Should I roll her bra up or down? She removed it last time. Why didn't these things come with instruction manuals? Buttons on blouses I could figure out. The same with pants and zippers. But a woman's intimate undergarments? They were a great mystery to me.

She reached behind her back and unfastened the bra.

Simple, right? I'd need to sneak one away from her soon and study it.

The bra slid forward, and I tugged it out of the way, sending it flying. I think it hit the wall. Or the door or the window. Who cared? Her glorious breasts waited for my mouth.

Using a delicate touch, I stroked along the bottom of her breasts.

"And then we talked about appetizers," she said between sighs. "I hate liverwurst. Foie gras. Who names things like that, anyway? I hate it. It tastes like . . . well, I don't want to mention it right now, but you can find it in diapers. Did you know that about me?"

I shook my head. "I did not know this about you."

"They insisted! I shot them down."

"I'm grateful."

Her glorious breasts were now free to breathe and move about, and there was nothing I adored more than that. I stood back to stare at them for a long while. Gargoyle females did not have breasts, which meant their chests were much flatter and broader. And their nipples were inverted. A youngling was placed against them and they projected from there, into their mouth. So I'd heard. I hadn't seen it in action to form an opinion on how it worked.

"Your nipples are quite perky," I said. "I noticed this before."

"Yes, they are." She glanced down before looking up again, smiling. "They like you."

I frowned. "How can you tell?"

"See?" She lifted her breasts, pointing the nipples right at me like darts that might impale my eyes if I was closer. "They're budding or pearling if you want to be poetic. That means they're happy to see you."

I stroked my thumbs across her nipples, and my cock jerked upward in my pants in appreciation. My groan ripped out. I loved how responsive her body was, how her nipples liked me.

After shoving everything on her desk to the side, I eased her backward and studied her striped patterned skirt. Should I flip it up or tug it down? I preferred her completely naked, but she might like the adventurous form of sex, the spontaneity of me bunching it up to reveal her wetness.

I opted for bunching, doing it slowly, finding her underwear beneath, the material dark between her legs.

"I mentioned the totes, but still," she said. "I can't believe they had time to get ones that matched."

"Surprising." I tugged her over to the edge of the desk and nudged her thighs apart, stepping between them. Her legs went around my waist, which I liked a lot. Should I shred her underwear? I'd read online that women loved when a male did things like that, though the article I found didn't tell the reader how to tell which women might enjoy such a thing.

Angie might not want to walk around without an undergarment later, and I doubted she kept extras in her desk drawer, so I tugged them down and tossed them toward her window.

She wrapped her legs around me again.

I decided this was a wonderful time to lick her.

"What do you think about flower girls?" she asked as I stooped down and laid her thighs across my shoulders.

"I like flowers. I prefer you over any girl."

She laughed. "You know what I mean. Oh . . ." Her breath jerked out as I licked along her crease to her clit. "Oh!"

Yes, oh. I liked distracting my mate from her distress. I enjoyed eating her out just as much.

I got to work on her cute little clit because I loved it as much as I did my Angie. It was tasty and firm, and it swelled up nicely when I sucked on it. And her juices. My, how they flowed when I gave into my lust for her clit. Because I couldn't resist, I slid two fingers inside her. I needed to thrust my cock here soon, because that was its true home, but my fingers liked being there too.

I looked up, finding her gazing at the ceiling, stunned. She was talking about . . . I left her clit for a moment—only a moment, to speak. "Flower girls?"

Her breath caught. "And a ring bearer. Who needs that?"

Her clit welcomed me back with a twitch, and the inside walls of her passage sucked on my fingers sweetly. I swirled them around, making sure to stroke the bump that I'd learned drove her wild. I'd ride against it with my cock soon, and I, and my cock, could barely wait.

"Ring . . . Ring . . ." Her words dissolved into a moan. Her hips were jerking up to meet my fingers, and when she started bucking and moaning, her head thrashing on the desk, I lifted myself up over her.

My cock was a restrained beast inside my pants, and it eagerly sprang free when I released it.

"Mate," I said softly as I placed the head of it at her core. "Tell me more about the ring bearer?"

"Rings?" she mumbled. "What rings?"

With a grin, I pushed my cock deep inside her. "Exactly."