by A C Warneke
It had to be a disease.
Needing to find his sanity, he turned on the television, hoping to find something – anything – to distract him from his thoughts, his obsession. Grabbing the remote, he pressed a button and the television lowered from the ceiling, already on.
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw Lexi as he saw her the first time, in her blond wig, a seductress look in her eyes as she looked across the bar. A wave a jealous rage rushed through him until he realized it had been him she was looking at. Good God, the crew had videotaped the entire thing – and with two local celebrities engaging in such relatively scandalous behavior…. Of course they released the tapes; sex sold and Lexi was sex on steroids.
“It is quite apparent that lavish writer, Lexi Darling, enjoys what she does,” the voice over said as the image of her laughing filled the screen. “Filmed on location, this footage shows the lengths Miss Darling goes to get her story. Sources say that this man,” the television showed the two of them as they kissed, oblivious to the world around them, “is the new owner of lavish magazine and if his expression is any indication, things down there are bound to get interesting.”
“Next on….” But Duncan had already clicked off the television and it was disappearing back into the ceiling.
He closed his eyes; the expression on Lexi’s face as he held her in his arms was burned into his retinas: the pleasure, the desire. How was he supposed to resist that? Maybe he could get Lexi out of his system, get things back on track, and when his head was clear, he’d propose to Lexi and have….
His eyes shot open; even his thoughts were betraying him. He really needed to clear his head. Lexi was not what he needed in a wife, with her colorful wigs and her even more colorful clothes and her very humanness. He needed a wolf and there was only the most infinitesimal to be non-existent chance she could make the transition if he claimed her….
The thought of losing Lexi because she couldn’t make the transition had his gut twisting in knots. He couldn’t take the chance that she would be destroyed if he claimed her like his wolf wanted him to do. Hell, like he wanted to do. Damn it; he knew he was on the knife’s edge and it wouldn’t take more than a simple “hello” to push him over.
Grinding his molars together, he slammed the rest of his brandy down his throat, welcoming the liquid fire. She was driving him insane and if he didn’t get her away from him he was going to explode or do something crazy and propose to her. Why couldn’t he simply marry her, not attempt to transform her….
That was a dangerous thought; one that he couldn’t quite ignore. Why couldn’t he marry her? Because he knew that in a few years, a few months, he would forget himself, only for a moment, and bite her as he mounted her from behind; sink his teeth into her delicate skin and flood her blood with the wolf’s venom. She would die writhing in agony because most humans couldn’t make the transition. Hell, he didn't know of a single one; generally, wolves didn't mate with humans.
It’s worth the risk, the wolf whispered.
He had to get her as far away from him as possible yet he couldn’t fire her, not after he promised her a month. But he could make her quit. And then, maybe, he’d be able to get back his sanity. If he gave into temptation, he may never get it back and with each moment he spent with her, the more he didn’t care that she was not what he wanted as a mate; she was becoming what he needed. He had to do something….
Sitting down in front of his computer, he composed the e-mail that would hopefully do the trick. Without a second thought, he pressed send, and prayed that it would work.
Chapter 11(Monday)
Hoping to make a more professional impression on the luscious Mr. Duncan Tremain while laying siege to his libido, Lexi got up much earlier than usual Monday morning, arriving at the office by eight. Thankfully Cole had to be downtown for an appointment and didn’t mind leaving so much earlier than normal. She wore a conservative outfit, at least by her standards: a dark, pin stripe skirt that went all the way to her knees and a matching jacket. Of course, the skirt had a split up the back that stopped just below her butt and the jacket was very fitted over nothing but a lacy, electric blue bra. She wore a pair of stiletto mules and her brown hair was scraped back into a severe bun; no wigs today. Actually, her look was more like 'Dominatrix meets the work place.'
On the way in, she saw his roadster parked in his spot and she realized that she was going to have to get there a lot earlier if she really wanted to impress him. Fortunately, she didn’t run into him as she made her way to her office, giving her a few moments to gather herself together and go over her game plan. Dropping her purse, she sat behind her desk and booted up her computer to check her e-mail.
Picking up the phone, she dialed her mother, something she tended to do at work to avoid getting into a long conversation. As soon as her mom answered, Lexi blurted, “Hey, mom, I have a quick question for you.”
“Alexandra,” her mom let out a long sigh. “You have the most impeccable timing; I was about to get my hair done.”
“Why did Thea nearly suffer an apoplexy when the Tremains were mentioned?” she asked before her mom could say anything else. When Charisma didn’t answer, Lexi thought she might have hung up the phone. “Mom?”
When her mom finally spoke, her voice was grave, “Alexandra; if you must know, you'll have to discuss it with Thea. Personally, I would advise caution when dealing with the Tremains; there is something dangerous, primal, about all of them."
A delicious shiver went down Lexi’s spine and she smiled at the thought of Duncan, all dangerous and primal. Her voice was low, husky, when she breathed, “Yeah.”
“Why are you asking about the Tremains? You usually aren’t one for gossiping.”
“Um, my boss is Duncan Tremain,” Lexi said, omitting most of the truth.
“Don’t get involved with him,” her mother warned gravely. “Out of all of the Tremains, he is the most... amused by us. I think he secretly mocks up and I cannot abide being laughed at.”
“I’m laughing at you right now, mom,” Lexi teased. “And Duncan is too busy conquering the world to spare any thought on mythological creatures."
“I know you’re laughing, Alexandra; you laugh at everything. But you’re family so I’ll allow it.” Lexi heard the smile in her mother’s voice and smiled in return. “Just think twice about getting involved with Duncan Tremain.”
“He’s my boss, mom,” Lexi interrupted before her mother could ask a question she didn’t want to answer. “I just want my writing to be given an honest shot because I think I might have influenced Jeffrey a little bit when I applied for the job, albeit unknowingly, since I didn’t freaking know about the Siren thing until recently and I’m worried I will do the same thing with Du… Mr. Tremain.”
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, my dear,” her mom apologized for the millionth time. "It's just...."
“Mom, I’m not mad,” Lexi chuckled, interrupting the excuses before they could start. “It’s just something I’m still figuring out.”
Charisma once again fell silent and Lexi chewed on her lip, knowing that her mother was working through the nuances of the entire conversation. As she waited for her mom to decide whether or not Lexi was flirting with danger, Lexi opened her email.
Her heart dropped when she saw one from him. Was he going to reiterate his ridiculous rules? She already knew them by heart; it didn’t change the fact that he was going to break them – but he wouldn’t necessarily remember. While she would prefer to leave him with his memories of her and whatever time they spent together, she knew that she would do anything she could to ease his torment if it grew too great. With a shaking hand, she clicked on it and began to read. Anger quickly replaced nerves and her nostrils flared as she pressed the print button.
“I’ve got to go, mom,” Lexi bit out.
“Are you… contemplating a relationship with Duncan Tremain?” she asked carefully.
“Yeah,” Lexi seethed. “Mur
der.”
Without a second thought, she hung up the phone and grabbed the printed e-mail, making her way to Duncan’s office. Marching up to his secretary’s desk, she took a deep breath to calm herself enough to smile, considering she was ready to strangle the man. That wasn’t Miss Reynolds’s fault. “Is Duncan in?”
The older woman looked up from her desk and met Lexi’s eyes, her face brightening as she smiled with affection. Lexi had always liked Miss Reynolds and hoped Mr. Tremain decided to keep the woman, who was fantastically organized and efficient. She kept things running smoothly even when deadlines made it feel like everything was on the verge of falling apart. “Mr. Tremain is not in his office at the moment; if you want to schedule a meeting, I’m sure….”
“Please,” Lexi smiled beguilingly, knowing the woman was just doing her job; it wasn’t her fault that her boss sucked. “Just tell me where he is?”
“The, uh, gym,” Miss Reynolds hesitantly answered. “But, Lexi, you can’t….”
Lexi didn’t hear the rest as she turned on her heal and stormed back to the elevator, crossing her arms under her breasts and hoping that her temper managed to do what everything else couldn’t: tone down this fascination with Duncan Tremain. God, if only it was that easy because even in her rage, she still wanted the man. Damn it.
Unconcerned with where she was going, she stormed through the door into the men’s locker room, oblivious to the half-naked men frantically trying to cover themselves. She was seeing red because of Duncan Tremain, and she had to remind herself that he was her boss. He was insufferable. Gorgeous. Infuriating. Delectable. Arrogant.
Nearly naked.
Her knees trembled and she swallowed as she took in the expanse of his hard, masculine chest, the light dusting of dark hair over the brown discs of his nipples. He was ripped, his tightly compacted stomach muscles tensing as her gaze caressed them. Tilting her head back, she took in his damp skin and wet, slicked back hair; it was so black and so glossy. Drops of water glistened on his hardened jaw, across his supple lips…. A dry Duncan Tremain was mouthwatering; a wet Duncan Tremain was irresistible.
“Miss Darling,” he ground out. When she met his eyes, she swore she was looking at storm clouds, roiling with barely leashed fury and passion. For a moment, her mind went completely blank as images of their bodies entwining filled her head, picturing all of that hard, wet skin moving over hers as his fingers tormented her breasts and his cock slowly eased into her swollen sex.... “What are you doing in here?”
Her fingers curled, crumbling the paper and bringing her back to the present. She quickly regained her righteous indignation and thrust her hand out. Plastering the paper against his damp, sculpted chest, she ignored the feel of his hot skin and glared at him, “You cut my words.”
“Yes,” he said simply, putting a hand on the knot of his towel, not doing anything to remove her hand. And did he just get closer, or was that just his aura expanding outwards and invading her senses?
Lexi glanced down and realized that he was going to take his towel off; that he was going to be naked in, like, two seconds. Her eyes shot to his and she saw the awareness in them. “I don’t think you should be doing that in here.”
He raised an eyebrow, and though he didn’t move his hand, he didn’t take the towel off, either. “This is the men’s locker room.”
“Yes,” she agreed, feeling the warmth creep into her cheeks. She thought about taking a step back but somewhere along the way the idea was aborted and her feet remained firmly planted in place. Her fingers relaxed a bit, letting the piece of paper slip to the floor so no barriers were between her hand and his flesh. Her heart pirouetted in her chest and her tummy tingled as she pressed her palm against the slick dampness of his chest and felt his skin. It had been too long since she touched him and it was beyond intoxicating. “Yes, it is.”
“You may want to consider leaving,” he murmured, his voice pure seduction.
“Yes,” she agreed. And again, neither one moved. She just continued to stare into his liquid silver eyes, losing herself in them. Yeah, she would give him her soul….
“Give me a few minutes and I will meet with you in my office; we’ll discuss your word count then,” he said, the storm raging in his eyes reeling her in until electricity moved along her spine, her skin. His eyes… they glowed with desire and possession.
“I don’t think you’ll do it,” she rasped, her mouth absurdly dry as she continued to stand so close to an almost naked Duncan. As he arched his eyebrow, she swallowed and her heart trembled in her chest, “I don’t think you’ll drop the towel.”
His lips curved upwards in a naughty smile and then the towel was gone, crumbled in a heap around their feet. Her eyes dipped down and then almost rolled back into her head as she took a moment to appreciate the exquisite beauty of his penis. Her hand drifted downwards, over his flat stomach, over the thin line of hair beneath his navel, downwards…. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her downward journey and she looked up at him with dazed eyes, the butterflies dancing for joy and her skin on fire.
Projecting an image of calm and cool collectedness was difficult as she purred, “Very nice.”
With a warm expression in his eyes, he lightly ran the fingers of his other hand over her temple, pushing a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear, “Give me fifteen minutes, Miss Darling.” Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “We are not alone.”
Jumping back, she felt foolish. She was standing in the men’s locker room, for God’s sake, practically melting at Duncan’s feet and several men were staring at them and she realized she wasn’t being professional at all. Well, she could do that; and she would. When she talked to him – in his office, with him dressed – she would be completely professional-ish. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes,” he repeated, standing naked and proud. As much as she would have liked to stay and stare at him, standing there nude and glorious, she turned on her heel and walked back through the locker room. As comfortable as she was with her body, she wasn’t prepared to engage in acts of public sex, no matter the temptation.
Besides, she was still angry at him for cutting her words.
*****
As he picked up the towel and finished drying off, Duncan took a few long, drawn-out breaths as Lexi walked away. Seeing her storm in here, her eyes blazing, was hell on his libido. He was painfully aware of his erection, and how stupid it had been to defy her expectations and drop the damn towel. She was so blatant in her attraction to him, desire of him, and as a wolf, he appreciated her boldness and vivacity. Even if she didn’t taunt him with her words he would have known that she wanted him; he could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. But there was no way in hell he was going to attack her in the men’s locker room with other men standing around. He wasn’t a beast.
His wolf wouldn’t have cared who was watching.
God, she was glorious! In everything she did, she did with her whole heart. Making love to her would be unlike anything he ever experienced before. Having sampled her briefly, he knew that much. It would be enough to change a man, make him forget what was important, forget his name, forget the reasons why he shouldn’t. And it would be worth it – until she ended up writhing in agony as the wolf’s venom coursed through her system because he forgot himself for one moment.
Damn it; he needed to get himself under control. He wasn’t behaving rationally; in fact, he was acting no better than his wolf, willing to rut without any concern of civility. He could control himself around Lexi; she wasn’t a Siren, luring men to their downfalls, their deaths. She was just an intoxicating woman that stirred his basest passions. Hell, if he kept panting after her, he would be luring her to her death. He shouldn’t sink any deeper.
Of course, if he were absolutely honest with himself, he would admit that he already had. If she had just been a sexy woman, he could have given in to lust and fucked her before letting her go. But she had to go and make him like he
r.
Just once, his wolf whispered. Take her just once and end the madness.
No, because once would never be enough. He was going to accept her resignation and never surrender; he was already too twisted up inside and he did not like the feeling, the spiraling out of control, of losing control to the wolf inside of him.
“That Lexi Darling is a real piece of work,” someone to his left said. Duncan turned his head and saw one of the copy editors standing there, staring at the door where Lexi disappeared. Letting out a low whistle, he continued, “I’d fuck her, though.”
“Excuse me?” Duncan asked, his voice full of disdain that this man should dare talk about Lexi. He didn’t like the guy’s look, with his slicked back white-blond hair, ice-cold blue eyes; the guy was a malignant tumor on a cockroach's ass.
The guy sneered, apparently unaware of the grave he was digging for himself. “Uh, Miss Darling. She comes in here like it’s her God-given right, wearing those… outfits. I swear, she just asks for it.”
Duncan’s nostrils flared, his chest tightened, and his hands curled into fists; if the jerk said one more word, he was going to end up in the ER needing surgery to remove his head from his rectum. Turning back to his locker, Duncan threw the towel down, needing to get dressed in order to make the meeting with Lexi. He didn’t need to hear some jackass talk crap about her.
“I can see she has the same effect on you,” the guy continued.
Duncan turned his head and caught the guy staring at his erection, which had barely gone down, even with the idiot blathering on. He wanted to wrap his hand around the idiot's throat and squeeze until there wasn't a drop of life left. Breathing heavily, it took a moment to get the violent thought out of his head.
Gritting his teeth together, Duncan grabbed his pants and pulled them on, not bothering with his briefs. Dressing as quick as possible, he needed to get the hell out of there before he committed manslaughter. If the guy kept talking, his wolf was going to rise to the surface and rip the bastard’s throat out.