Dragon's Fake Mate

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Dragon's Fake Mate Page 9

by Abigail Raines


  “Nice to meet you.” Linda stepped forward and shook my hand and I shook it back, in a daze. “How is Tyler doing?”

  Everything seemed to happen in a blur. Linda kept asking me questions about Tyler, who was stirring in his bed just in time to be introduced. She was sweet with him and just sort of took over while not being a jerk about it. Jay moved like a tornado of cleaning and soon enough I was telling Tyler I would be home later. Linda and Jay both had my number. I was wide-eyed, in a kind of trance, as Justin ushered me out of the apartment after telling me to put some clothes in a bag.

  “What just happened?” I said, as we made our way outside. He took the backpack I’d stuffed with some clothes over his own shoulder.

  “Don’t worry,” he said easily. “It’s all taken care of. You needed a break.”

  I was still a mess. I hadn’t even showered. But in my confusion I said, “Are we...is there an event or something? I don’t think Joanie said anything-”

  “No, no, no.” Justin frowned at me before helping me into the car. “No events, no fake dates. Nothing like that. Just a retreat. For you.”

  “A retreat where?” I said. I wanted him to say it was a retreat to his place, partly just because I was curious about his place. But it also would be such an intimate thing for him to bring me to his place to chill for a bit.

  “My place, if you want,” Justin said quickly, and inwardly I cheered. “It’s huge. I just thought you might want to-”

  “Yes,” I said. I sat back in the plush, leather seat of Justin’s town car as his driver cruised through the Lower East Side. I was really starting to get used to his luxurious car. “That sounds nice.” I didn’t really know what he had planned. I kind of figured it would be a place where I could shower and eat for a minute, away from the hustle and bustle of home. If I was very lucky, I thought I might score a nap.

  I was thinking about just that when, before I knew it, I felt somebody nudging me. “Hey, Nic? Wake up, sweetheart.”

  The thing is, I knew it was Justin, but I thought I must be dreaming. I couldn’t picture Justin calling me “sweetheart” as much as I might want him too. Now I stirred awake, the confused part of my snoozing brain, having imagined I was in a dream about Justin saving me from my messy apartment and the chaos of single motherhood.

  “Hmm?” I woke up lying down and in the most comfortable bed I had ever experienced, and that included testing out mattresses for fun in mattress stores with Tyler, a guilty pleasure we’d indulged in more than once. My own mattress was thin and a little lumpy at this point. This one was plush yet firm enough to be supportive. Probably memory foam or something. Whatever it was, it made it difficult for me to want to wake up, especially when my still dozing mind was sure the dream was better.

  Justin’s chuckle was husky and sex-soft. “Nic, hey, wake up a minute.”

  All at once, I opened my eyes and sighed and reflexively stretched underneath a mountain of fluffy, goose down duvet. “What…” I yawned, scrunching my nose up, hiding under the top of the covers a little as my eyes fluttered. I was in bed, an unfamiliar but super comfortable bed. Justin was kneeling down next to me, smiling kindly.

  How on earth had I ended up here?

  “What’s happening?” I said. Except that I was still half-yawning and stretching like a happy cat, so it came out more like,”Whaaahmmmm…”

  “You have a good nap?” Justin said. He was smiling at me in the sweetest way, a way that could be easily misinterpreted.

  “How did I get in this bed?” I said, rolling over on my side. “I don’t remember?”

  “I carried you up here,” Justin said, his eyebrows shooting up. “You don’t remember that?”

  “You carried me?” I sat up in bed, feeling a little shy suddenly. But then I realized I was wearing exactly what I’d been wearing when I left the apartment, still decked out in my dowdy sweats. Justin had removed my shoes and that was it.

  Justin got to his feet and crossed his arms, ducking his head a little shyly. “You knocked out in the car and I didn’t want to wake you. So I carried you up here. Was that alright?”

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “Sure.”

  “I just thought I’d wake you now in case you’re hungry or anything?” Justin shrugged. “I have my chef over here today. He’ll fix you up anything you want?”

  I sat all the way up with a jerk, blinking up at Justin. “You have a chef here?” I looked around the room, still somewhat getting my bearings. It didn’t look like it was Justin’s room. It felt more like a guest room, flawlessly decorated but barren, in greys and whites, though there were splashes of color in the art on the walls. There was also an unexpectedly homey quilt thrown over the duvet like an afterthought. It felt like a room that had been decorated according to a wealthy person’s expectation yet some other homier impulse was peeking through.

  “I have a part-time chef,” Justin said, seeming sheepish. “I thought today would be a good day to utilize his services. Honestly, he’ll make just about anything. I have a lot of food. Pasta or-”

  “Oh my God, I’d love some pasta,” I mumbled. I blushed at my eagerness but I was starving, I realized. I’d been eating terribly the last few days with how busy things had been. “But oh my gosh, can I use your shower?”

  “Of course.” Justin smiled easily and I sighed in relief. I’d packed a little bit of make-up just in case. It was too late to save myself looking gross in front of Justin but at least I could primp a little bit and feel like a human being again. “Your things are all here, bathroom’s right over there…” He stood back, crossing his arms, and nodding across the room to a wide door. “I’ll just um… I’ll be in the kitchen downstairs? I’m just going to-”

  “What about your work day?” I said, finally and regretfully, rolling myself out of the luxurious bed. “It was barely after lunch when you called.”

  “Oh please.” Justin only rolled his eyes. “There’s not a CEO alive who can’t just work from home. It’s all phone calls and emails. We don’t do anything ourselves.”

  I was going to argue. I felt like he was going so far out of his way to help me out. But he was already dashing out the door with a reassuring smile, leaving me to myself. I rubbed my eyes and curled my toes on the plush, grey carpeting. There was an impressionistic painting of the California desert on one wall, another looked like a painting from the same artist of a forest. The paintings were engaging but not overwhelming. I decided I liked them. Though I especially liked the yellow and orange quilt on the bed that seemed to clash entirely with the rest of the room.

  The guest bathroom was about twice the size of my bedroom at home. It had a double sink and a giant glassed in shower. It was that kind of shower that can spray you from every direction and I took an absurdly long time just washing my hair, using the fancy stuff that Justin had waiting there for guests. Everything smelled so good too. He even had a facial cleanser in there. I would normally have been worried about using a different facial cleanser than usual, but I figured Justin would only supply the best.

  When I got out of the shower, I felt like a new woman. I brushed my teeth, finding a brand new brush on the counter, and blow-dried my hair. I put on some clothes I’d brought from home; black jeggings and a sweater. The second I was dressed, I checked my phone to see if there was anything about Tyler. Linda had texted a couple of times already just to say he was fine, correctly assuming I’d be overly worried. I appreciated the attention.

  I felt tentative about wandering out of the bedroom. I knew from magazine articles that Justin lived on the top few floors of a tower way uptown. I’d seen some photos too but actually being there was entirely different. I wandered out to a wide landing and was surprised at the open spiral staircase leading down to a massive hardwood living room with giant windows looking out on the city.

  The style was pretty modern and tasteful, but there were pops of a quirkier personality at work that I noticed. Justin had a crimson red couch (a very dragonish item to own) b
ut there was a colourful afghan folded over it as if it were some grandmother’s couch. There were old books stacked on top of what was probably a coffee table costing several thousand dollars. There was a couple paintings of dragons on the walls and I wondered at the artist. They were as impressionistic as the paintings in the bedroom, featuring bold bright colours. There was a braided area rug on the floor. I didn’t see Justin as I trotted down the stairs, my ears perking up at the sound of clanging dishes and low conversation.

  The living room stretched down through a wide passageway along a wall of glass bricks beyond which I found the kitchen where Justin was nibbling carrot sticks at a counter and reading something on his phone as his chef talked to himself and cooked, tossing spaghetti from one pot to another. The kitchen was huge, with open shelving and big marble countertops and dark hardwood floors. I sat down next to Justin and nodded, feeling a little awkward.

  Justin didn’t seem awkward at all, but then it was his house. “Nicole!” He grinned and patted my back. “You look refreshed.”

  “Ugh. I must’ve looked so shitty before,” I mumbled, pushing back my hair.

  “I didn’t mean it that way! You always look beautiful,” Justin said, his voice pitching up a little high, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying.

  I smiled gratefully. I couldn’t quite get over any of this. It felt like a fairy tale. Even having grown up with money, this kind of wealth felt different. I was trying not to think about what kind of hoard he must have. There are few things sexier than a male dragon’s hoard if you’re a female dragon. It’s nearly impossible to explain to a human. But we have an overwhelming need to collect the finest pieces of gold we can get our little talons on, and more than that, it also functions as an aphrodisiac. The golden spoon and the earrings were one thing, but the thought of what kind of hoard Justin might be sitting on… It was enough to make me wet.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Anyway…” Justin cleared his throat and caught his chef’s eye. “This is Marco, my chef. Man of few words but much flavour.”

  Marco only responded with a little wave. He was busy sautéing vegetables. He looked to be in his late fifties with slicked back salt and pepper grey hair and a neat beard. I smiled and nodded at him and he gave me a wink before he went back to what he was doing.

  “I just have him come work for me as needed,” Justin said, shrugging. “Kind of like ordering takeout. Or sometimes he kind of pre-makes meals for me to heat up.”

  “I don’t like to do that,” Marco said in a low voice. He turned halfway to glare back at Justin and wagged his spatula. “Food should be fresh.” Just as quickly he turned back around and Justin smirked at me as if we shared a joke.

  “I’m only one person,” Justin said, shrugging. “I can’t have a chef all the time. I’d feel ridiculous. Anyway, he has other clients.”

  “But Mr. King is my favorite,” Marco said. I raised my eyebrows in surprise and watched him expertly throw pasta on a plate with sauce from a pan and some vegetable and sausage that I hadn’t even noticed before. It smelled delicious and my mouth watered.

  He set two plates in front of us and I was kind of glad for the casual presentation at the kitchen counter. I would have felt strange sitting at the table somehow.

  “Did he tell you to say that?” I said.

  I was only joking but Chef Marco spun around and slapped his hands on the table. “Nobody tells me what to say!” He thundered. “Mr. King is my favorite!” He pointed at Justin and grinned. “Good man to work for.”

  “I work for him too!” I said, wanting suddenly to be on Marco’s side. “Just...not as closely. Usually.”

  Justin was snorting a laugh at that and Marco only nodded, muttering to himself before pouring two glasses of wine and setting them in front of us. “Enjoy.” With that, he walked off, a dish towel over his shoulder. I sort of wondered where he was going. Did he get a little break before cleaning up the kitchen or making more of those “pre-meals?”

  “Eat up,” Justin said, nudging me.

  I nodded and twirled pasta around my fork and took a bite with some sausage, moaning so loudly that my cheeks burned. Justin was laughing but it was truly that good. The two of us ate in companionable silence and when we were done, we sat around sipping wine, until Justin dug out some leftover tiramisu.

  “How do you feel?” He asked me later. We were on the couch now and I was more relaxed than I’d been in I didn’t know how long.

  But I was turned on too. I sat in the middle of the couch and Justin sat in the corner, his leg barely touching mine, yet I was keenly aware of his body. I could smell his cologne and the scent of him. I could see his muscles through the thin material of his shirt. He had some stubble grown along his jawline that I kept thinking about licking and his dark hair touched his shoulders.

  “I feel fantastic,” I said, scooting just a little bit closer. I wasn’t counting on anything to happen but I wanted to be near him, to bask in the scent and heat of him. “Do you treat all your fake girlfriends this well?”

  Justin smiled briefly and said, “Just you.” The way he said it made me feel special somehow. But I hated to get my hopes up. It would only hurt more later. “I have a hot tub too,” he said, staring into his wine. “On the roof.”

  “On the roof?” I raised my eyes and he grinned, looking a little hopeful maybe.

  “Would you like to try it?”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t have a suit with me. We’d be in our skivvies, I had a feeling. But I was more than fine with that. We already knew we wanted each other. I hoped that was still true.

  “God, yes,” I whispered.

  Chapter Ten: Justin

  It had started out so innocent.

  I just wanted to give Nicole a break. She had so much on her plate and when I’d heard her burst into tears on the phone, it had torn my heart in two. I could be the one to give her a much needed rest, not just from taking care of a sick kid and handling a full-time job on her own but from the stress of an artificial relationship. I’d tried to read her reactions. If she’d seemed uncomfortable, I would’ve taken her to a hotel in a second. But she’d seemed amenable about the whole thing, at least until she’d fallen asleep.

  The sensation of carrying Nicole in my arms from the car to the elevator and up to my place… I couldn’t describe it even to myself. I wanted to hold her like that forever. It made the fire in my dragon blaze and burn. I wanted to do things like this for her all the time, maybe especially because I knew how strong she was. I respected that. It made me want to be strong for her in turn.

  Anyway, it had all started out so innocent. But having her in my home and so close to my hoard… It was driving me mad. My head was buzzing, my heart pounding with a chant that said she was mine, that I needed her, that I wanted her. It wouldn’t be quiet. It was almost painful. But I didn’t want to take advantage of her either. She was here to rest and I didn’t want to assume anything. I figured a hot tub might be a kind of hint at things progressing. I would see how she responded and follow her lead...for at least as long as I could before the dragon started getting perhaps more aggressive.

  When she agreed, my dragon leapt within me.

  “Okay…” I grinned, running my tongue along my teeth. “Let’s go then.”

  I stood up from the sofa and took her hand and our bottle of wine. The anticipation made my blood ripple in my veins as I led her to the elevator that would take us up to the roof. We’d had such a nice time so far. But beyond the things we had in common to talk about, I had a feeling like there was a meeting of souls between us. She had left her father, the details of which I still wasn’t sure. I’d been lonely as a kid, forced for better or worse to only hang out with other dragon shifters. I felt a kind of communion with her.

  Even in the elevator, her hand clasped in mind, I felt as if something momentous was happening, whether we actually had sex or not.

  But Nicole stood close to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. I
let my eyes slip shut and pretended we were a real couple.

  “I liked it when you called me Nic,” she said softly. “No one else calls me Nic.”

  I smiled to myself, rubbing my thumb along her hand. “When did I call you Nic?”

  “When I woke up,” she said. “In the guest room.”

  “I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” I said wonderingly.

  “Oh. Well, I liked it.”

  On the roof, I heard Nicole gasp and I felt a kind of breathless anticipation even as the elevator doors opened.

  “Oh my God,” Nicole murmured in wonder. “This place is amazing.”

  I did feel a kind of pride in that. If you had enough money, you could make any place look amazing. But I’d put some work into making the roof, my own personal heaven. There was the iron dragon perches, one facing west and one facing east. There was a flower garden and a couple of benches and a fountain. But there was also a pool looking out on a glass wall so you could swim with a view. There was a spacious patio area and a bar. And there was also, of course, the hot tub. I’d had many lovely events on my roof. The dragon perches I called “buttresses” and only ever ran into confusion with architects who looked at me funny. But most people just accepted that explanation.

  I took off my shirt and when I looked at Nicole, I knew there was hunger in my eyes. But she only took off her shirt too. I swallowed and my hungry eyes skimmed over her plump breasts peeking out of her white lace bra, the curve of her hips, the little roundness of her stomach. I clenched my jaw, trying to contain myself, and jogged over to the power switches to turn on the jets. The water was already heated. I’d had it turned on...just in case.

  We stripped down to our underwear and climbed in and I didn’t have to wonder what sort of mood had been set when Nicole drifted over to sit beside me, her thigh pressed against mine.

 

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