Stryker's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 1)

by Meg Ripley

  Vivian watched Cade turn the cigarette around backwards and put the tip in his mouth. He puffed once and drew the cigarette from his mouth, revealing a glowing end. A shiver of excitement rippled through her despite the fear and she saw the three men visibly stiffened. An instant later furniture skidded out of the way as Cade shifted and his massive form filled the space. One of the men pulled out a long dagger, but before he could even raise it, Cade lifted one claw and slashed it across the man's chest.

  The smell of blood filled the room and Vivian turned her head away from the man bleeding on the floor. Footsteps pounded as the other two men ran from the room through the side door. Cade's human form swept Vivian into his arms and rested a kiss to the top of her head.

  "Are you alright?" he asked.

  Vivian nodded and kissed his chest. This was reality now. She was irretrievably part of this, but as long as she held onto Cade, she felt like she could get through it.

  An hour later they stepped out of the house and into a night that was suddenly chilly. Fall was coming quickly and the shift in seasons seemed to underscore what was happening around them. Vivian could hear the voices of the trusted members of the operative inside the house, trying to make sense of the situation and decide what to do next. It was clear now that any talks of peace were only for show. The war was here and Vivian was a part of it.

  "What do you want to do now?" Cade asked, tucking an arm around her hips and drawing her close to him.

  Vivian breathed in the smell of sage and the hint of sweat from his skin. His arm felt safe and powerful around her, and her body responded to her primal need for him.

  "Bring me home," she whispered.

  Cade's hands were at her shirt pulling it off over her head even before the front door to Vivian's house closed behind them. She kicked off her shoes as she walked backwards across the living room, kissing him hungrily and working the buttons along the front of his shirt open. Her hands slid over the smooth, rounded muscles of his shoulders as she pushed the shirt away and let it fall to the carpet.

  As soon as they made it into the bedroom, Cade released her bra and tossed it away, bringing his mouth down to suckle the breasts he had kissed so patiently earlier. Vivian arched against his mouth and at the same time felt in front of her for his belt so she could unfasten it. The button and zipper fell away under her hands and he stepped out of the pants. Cade lowered himself to his knees, easing her pants and panties down over her hips and thighs so that she stood in front of him with nothing separating them.

  Vivian cried out as his tongue slipped into her core, tasting her and readying her even more for him. The sound tore from her chest like a release from the tension, the fear, and the uncertainty of the day behind them. As it left her lips, she surrendered herself to Cade, focusing only on that moment and the touch of his body near hers.

  She was quickly spiraling out of control when Cade got to his feet and scooped her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist and the heat of her core cradled the swell of his erection through the thin fabric of his trunks. He carried her to the bed and lowered her onto the mattress, pausing only long enough to step out of the trunks before rising over her and pushing into her in one hard thrust.

  Vivian wrapped her legs around his waist again as he pounded into her, each thrust accompanied by a deep, guttural sound. Suddenly he withdrew from her and she felt his hand tuck under her hip so that he flipped her over onto her stomach. Sliding one leg up so that her knee bent up toward her shoulder, Cade entered her again. She lifted her head as a moan poured from her lips and felt Cade bite down into her shoulder with enough intensity that a shock of delectable, pleasurable pain rolled through her body, bringing her right to the edge of her climax.

  Cade thrust into her harder until he impaled her a final time and roared with a release that made him throb within her, pushing her over the edge into another dizzying orgasm. She lifted her hips slightly as she milked him, wanting to be as close to him as her body would allow. As their tremors slowed, Cade lowered himself down onto her so that his body enveloped hers in warm, comforting weight. He slid his arms up over hers and intertwined their fingers, touching a kiss onto the back of her shoulder before resting his head onto her back.

  Vivian could feel his heartbeat on her back and his slowly relaxing hardness still inside her. She let the feeling soothe her and ease her toward sleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough and she would return to Killington with him to face whatever awaited the dragons. For now, she was satisfied to rest beneath him, lost in the scent of sage and the thought of the colors in his eyes. Her loyalties had changed and she knew that no matter what her memories held, this was the beginning of forever.

  THE END

  Bonus: Meg’s Bestselling Dragon Shifter Romance

  Mated By The Dragon Boss

  Story Description

  April Bancroft never thought she would find love, and she certainly didn’t think it would be in the form of Mads Durkheim—her boss and one of the world’s biggest media moguls. It’s totally unlike her, but she can’t resist his charm, his looks, or the heat of his body when they touch. A part of her hopes that a business trip to Los Angeles might turn their relationship into something more than strictly professional—but high in the Hollywood Hills, she’s introduced to a world that she could never even dream of.

  Mads Durkheim has been alive and alone for a very, very long time. One of the last of the dragons, he believes he will never find the woman meant for him—until voluptuous April walks into his office. He can’t put his finger on exactly why, but she soothes the fire raging inside of him. He wants nothing more than to keep her close and safe, but mortals are never safe when they meddle in the affairs of dragons.

  When April is caught in the crossfire of dirty business and ancient feuds, will their bond be enough to save her?

  “Ms. Bancroft, why are you always so cold?”

  April looked up from the ever-changing constellation of dates and appointments and blinked at her boss, Mads Durkheim. “What? I’m not cold.”

  “How many layers are you wearing?”

  “Three.”

  “Does that include the blanket?”

  She looked down at the afghan her grandmother had knitted for her over twenty years ago. It was the perfect size for her lap and she took it everywhere with her. It might be strange for a grown woman to have a security blanket, but she was, in fact, always cold.

  “No. I sit under that vent, and it’s always on.”

  He held his hand up to the vent. “It feels fine to me. Here, feel how warm I am.” He turned, swinging his bare arm in front of her face so she could touch him, as instructed. She registered the heat—against her cold fingers he felt like a living fire—but that wasn’t all she noticed. His smooth skin covered thick muscle, and the tendons twitched under her brief touch. She pulled her hand away quickly.

  “You’re very…” She swallowed the rasp out of her voice. “Warm.”

  “And your fingers are like ice! You really are cold, aren’t you? Here, let me show you something.”

  He leaned over her to reach for the computer mouse, minimizing her screen and double clicking on another icon. Misty, the woman who had trained her to be Mads’ personal assistant, had warned that that program accessed the climate control for the entire building. “Never touch that,” she’d said. “He’s very particular.”

  “Look, just drag this here. Then you can adjust the temperature.” He demonstrated by raising it from 67 degrees to a more toasty and tolerable 78. “Better?”

  Better? How could she even begin to notice when the scent of his skin was filling her head? Her boss was a very attractive man—a fact she had done her best to ignore in the eight weeks since he hired her as his personal assistant—and he smelled very, very good. He wasn’t quite touching her back, but she could still feel the heat coming from his body, and if she leaned back just a little—less than an inch—she would feel the solid muscle of his chest.

  �
��Well?”

  She glanced upward to meet his golden-green eyes and had to look away just as quickly. “Much better, thank you. But won’t it be too hot for you?”

  “No, my office is set to my personal preference.” He straightened and the heat disappeared—much to her disappointment. “Reschedule all my meetings for the next three days.”

  “Reschedule…?”

  “Yes, I’m going to Los Angeles.”

  April frowned and checked the calendar. “On business?”

  “Yes, and you’ll be accompanying me. We’ll be flying out tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be forwarding the itinerary. Make sure to pack a cocktail dress. We’ll be going to at least one event.”

  A cocktail dress? She didn’t even own a dress, much less one for an event in Los Angeles. Her mind raced for an excuse—any excuse—to get her out of the affair, if not the whole trip, but she came up with nothing. There was nothing holding her in town, and she couldn’t explain to him that girls her size didn’t have cocktail dresses lying around. At least he paid her well enough to go buy one.

  “And April?”

  “Yes?”

  “One more thing.” He leaned in close—so close that she could see the strands of golden-blond hair in his beard and eyebrows—and flared his nostrils. “What is that scent?”

  “Scent?”

  “What are you wearing? I was thinking of buying a new scent for my.... mother.”

  “It’s just my body wash. Or maybe the orange I had for breakfast?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Well, it’s an intoxicating combination.” He straightened again, and she hoped he didn’t notice the sudden flush on her cheeks or the way her pulse quickened. Her body betrayed her every time he stood within touching distance. Apparently, she needed more than eight weeks to get that under control. “I’m going to the club, I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “Would you like me to forward your messages?”

  “Only if it’s urgent.”

  She didn’t release her breath until the door closed behind him. Turning her attention back to the calendar, she tried to forget the texture of his skin, the smell of sandalwood and pine that always surrounded him, the color of his eyes—green with the brightest flecks of gold. She tried to forget everything except the task at hand—the impossible task at hand. Mads was a very busy man, and his schedule was a careful balancing act without surprise meetings taking them out of town.

  The thought of going out of town made her stomach flutter. He’d warned her at the beginning of her interview that the job would require frequent travel. She’d quickly assured him that travel would not be a problem—she didn’t even have a plant in her small apartment. But this was the first trip since he hired her. How long would they be gone? What should she pack? Where were they going? Would they be alone together?

  “That doesn’t matter,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders. She had a job to do. Three days of meetings were not going to reschedule themselves.

  ****

  It wasn’t just the smell of her body wash or her breakfast fruit that clung to Mads and drove him a little bit crazy, no matter how much distance he put between himself and his pretty assistant. The first time their hands touched, a chill went down his spine and he actually quivered. In that moment, he knew two things for sure—one: he would absolutely hire her, and two: he absolutely had no business hiring her.

  She wasn’t even the most qualified applicant. A recent graduate from a tiny state school out in the middle of nowhere with no previous office or administrative experience, she showed up with a bright smile and a recommendation from his previous assistant, Marie. He had to look up the school to verify it was an accredited university and not just something she made up for her resume. But her references had been effusive, her grades perfect, and she looked him in the eye with a boldness that he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Maybe even in centuries.

  Inviting her touch was not the best idea. Her soft fingers cooled the fire constantly burning beneath his skin, bringing him a moment of peace that the ubiquitous air conditioning never produced. She soothed him and then it was over, and he was left with nothing but a deep longing. Where else could she touch him? What other relief could she bring him?

  He shook his head. No, no, no. He wasn’t going to think about that, wasn’t going to allow those images—as delightful as they were—to fill his head. He had too many other things on his plate to be distracted by personal pleasure. Like Charles and Savannah Maelstrom, owners of the most powerful media conglomerate in the nation and the assholes trying to negotiate a hostile takeover of his own media interests. He only owned a handful of cable channels and three newspapers, but he wanted to keep them.

  The trip to California would be tedious at best. They’d throw him a party and try to find a way to buy him, though their billions meant nothing to him and they owned nothing he coveted. Strictly speaking, April did not need to accompany him, but just being near her brought him a sense of peace. And he would need all the help he could get if he had to spend a long weekend with Savannah Maelstrom. The fact that the world hadn’t yet figured out her secret was a miracle to him.

  It took him nearly thirty minutes to reach the club, and he resented every single second he spent confined in the car; if only he could stretch his wings, he would have been there in less than five. He would have soared over the skyscrapers and all of these little ants, scurrying around in their little ant lives, ignorant of their own insignificance. How terrified they would be to catch a glimpse of his immense power.

  What would April do if she could see him? If he shed his human suit and allowed her a glimpse of his true self, would she run from him? Or would she take a step closer? Would she place her fingers on his brow? Would she place a kiss on his inhuman lips? Would she fear him or would she understand that she would never have anything to fear from him?

  And how long would he be able to pretend that he didn’t long to show her?

  ****

  April had imagined the cocktail party as a smallish event full of boring business talk. Why else would he want her to accompany him, if not to take notes and keep track of who said what? But once they arrived, she realized there was nothing small about the party, and there would be no business discussed that evening. For the briefest of moments, April considered that maybe he simply meant her to be his date, but that hope was dashed when the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen attached herself to Mads’ arm.

  “Darling, it’s so good to see you again.” Her long red hair glowed under the chandeliers and her skin had the beautiful golden hue of the California sun.

  “Savannah, dear, it’s been too long.”

  “You haven’t called on me in, well, eons!”

  “I know, dear, and I have been remiss. But business—”

  She playfully hit his chest. “Oh, poo on your business. I don’t want to hear another word of it. That’s all Charles can talk about these days, and I’ll tell you, it’s perfectly boring.”

  Mads chuckled good-naturedly and gestured at April. “This is April Bancroft, my personal assistant. April, this is Savannah Maelstrom.”

  “Maelstrom? As in Maelstrom Media Group?”

  Savannah laughed. “Of course, darling.”

  “She is the queen of the empire. And a delectable one at that.” He bent low and kissed her hand, prompting a giggle from her.

  “Oh, you old flirt.” Her eyes flickered over April and dismissed her just as quickly. “Have you met Angelica Preston, darling? She’s come in all the way from Europe.”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure. Angelica?”

  “Yes, you know, Miles Preston’s daughter? Come, she was dancing just a moment ago.”

  And just like that, he was gone. April tried to track him through the crowd, but quickly lost sight of him and was unable to find him again, even when she checked the dance floor. She did spot the open bar and made a beeline to the only frien
dly face in the crowd—the smiling bartender. She ordered a champagne and turned to survey the party, feeling more comfortable with a glass in her hand.

  When they arrived in the town car Mads had hired, she assumed they were at a hotel. A very large, opulent hotel. An impression that didn’t change once inside—the sweeping stairs, the enormous chandeliers, the fine marble, the gold leaf accents, and the plush, leather furniture were all things she’d only seen in hotels. Well, pictures of hotels. She’d never been so out of place, and she was certain everybody there knew she didn’t belong.

  April looked down at her dress, inwardly cringing at the sight of her breasts and the swell of her belly encased in shiny, emerald green. It was not her favorite color, but what could she do? There was not an abundance of pretty dresses in her size 28. This one fit her well and covered enough of her breasts that she didn’t feel like she looked cheap. In fact, for a brief moment at the hotel, she actually felt surge of pride at the sight of her reflection. She’d had her hair, makeup, and nails done at the hotel’s spa—on Mads’ insistence and his dime—and the dress did look good on her. Mads’ smile when he saw her only reinforced her sense of pride. He had looked genuinely taken aback by her, and he’d offered her his arm, and it had all felt very real.

  But now, she knew for a fact that she looked cheap. Who else here was wearing off the rack clothes?

  God, why did he bring me here at all?

  “Hello there. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

  April twitched and looked up into a pair of blue eyes so bright the seemed to glow. “Hi, I’m April. I’m Mads Durkheim’s assistant.”

  “Assistant? Not his date?”

  “No, um...just his assistant.”