Chapter 2
The Million-Dollar Smirk
TERRANCE
Lothair washed his hands with soap in the kitchen sink before he made us both coffee in a machine that looked like something capable of launching us into space. I couldn’t stop thinking about him not washing his face. He must still be able to taste the omega’s slick on his lips.
He led me outside to a group of patio furniture under a cabana, where he sprawled in his cum-stained tighty-whities. I was sure he was doing it all to rile me up. Was it some twisted initiation ritual, or was he trying to get rid of me?
I loosened my tie and pulled my slacks up slightly before I sat, facing him.
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
And that was the first thing he said. But I’d dealt with the likes of him before.
“That’s not what your manager thinks,” I said.
“My manager is human.”
“I noticed.”
I’d met Carlos the day before. He was a small, round omega in his forties who drank twenty cups of coffee every day and popped Tums like mints. Lothair was probably responsible for at least one of the man’s ulcers.
Lothair leaned back against the pristine cushions, stretching his torso and showing off his impressive physique. He was sculpted, even for a shifter, and I could see why that body had earned him enough money to build this monstrous mansion.
“People think I’m pushing myself to the limit when I do what I do.
Instead, most of the time, I have to stop myself from running too fast, jumping too high, or punching too hard.
I need to be the best, but if I’m too good, I stop looking human.
It requires the highest level of self-control and precision.
That’s why I’m constantly aware of every little movement and detail around me.
I’ve been keeping myself safe with a one hundred percent success rate, and I doubt you can do anything I don’t already excel at.
But let’s say that some nutjob decides to shoot me in the street. What can you do? Catch the bullet?”
He jerked his chin forward arrogantly, and I had to smile at his little speech. He was missing the point of me being here.
“I’m not going to catch the bullet. My job is to make it much harder for anyone who wants to hurt you to get close enough to do it.”
“As long as I do what you tell me.”
I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for him. “Yes. Statistically, clients who follow the advice of a security consultant run a much lower risk of being exposed to incidents, including direct attempts on their lives.”
“And that statistic of yours applies to dragons, too?”
“Mr. Courtemanche, this is not a job interview, and I don’t have to prove myself to you. It’s you who needs me and not the other way around.”
He scoffed. “I’ve never needed anyone before.” Even as he kept challenging me, he sat all relaxed, his voice pleasant.
“Why did you agree to employ Cassidy and Hassel, then?” I asked.
“To get my manager off my back.”
“This is not a charade. If I’m to work for you, we will follow protocols.”
He just looked at me for a long time, studying me with an unnerving focus. Suddenly, he slapped his thighs.
“Okay,” he said brightly. “Good thing you’re a shifter. I won’t have to hide from you.” He smiled roguishly and adjusted his dick. His eight-pack rippled.
Lothair’s abrupt change of attitude had warning lights glaring in my head. Had he been pulling my leg from the start, just wanting to rile me up?
“Mr. Courtemanche.”
“Call me Lothair, please.” Something about the curve of his plump lips made me wish I could slap that million-dollar smirk off his face.
He was just a brat who never grew up. I remembered guys like him from college—popular, attractive, rich shitheads who got away with everything while the rest of us had to keep our heads down and work our asses off.
Chances were, I wouldn’t even last the month I’d promised to Devon. My new client irritated me just by existing.
“Lothair, I understand the plight of an unmated alpha dragon. But I would appreciate it if your sex life didn’t interfere with our scheduled meetings.”
His glee only grew. “What? Didn’t you like seeing a fuckable hole early in the morning? Wakes one up, doesn’t it?”
I took a gulp of my coffee, holding his gaze. “Ten’s not early.”
“Do you get up at six and head straight for the gym before work?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Well, to each their own. Do you have a mate, Terrance?”
“No,” I answered honestly. It wasn’t uncommon for a dragon alpha to be unmated at twenty-eight.
Lothair, on the other hand, was approaching thirty-five and fucked around like one of those rodents who’d climb down trees and copulate to death.
I’d thought the rumor mill had exaggerated, but this morning confirmed it.
“I eat out a horny ass for breakfast, and you go jogging. We all cope with reality the way we deem best, am I right?”
“I’m not judging you.” I was judging him a lot, but whatever. “You’re free to do whatever you want as long as the other party wants the same.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you see them? They were happy as clams. I made them all come three times since last night.”
“You count?”
“It must be fair. Why would I invite three bendy dancers if I couldn’t satisfy all three equally?” He waggled his eyebrows.
And here I was discussing fairness in orgies with Lothair Courtemanche. Devon wasn’t paying me nearly enough, private pool be damned.
“My compliments to your prowess,” I said dryly. “Could we go through your weekly schedule now?”
“I don’t have much this week. We can look at that later. But I didn’t pay attention when my manager briefed me about this deal. Are you going to stay at my house?”
“Six nights a week, yes.”
His dimples popped. “Sweet.”
“I come with you whenever you leave the premises and always accompany you in public. If you are visiting someone’s home, we agree beforehand on how we’re going to proceed, depending on your relationship with the person and the security procedures at their place—”
“And if I want to go alone?”
“You shouldn’t. Based on your lifestyle, level of popularity, and the threats you’ve received during the past year, we’ve evaluated your risk factor as four on a scale of one to six. For comparison, the governor’s risk factor is three.”
“Who has six?” He leaned forward with an excited gleam in his eyes.
“It’s not a competition, Lothair.”
He licked his lips. “I hate being mediocre.”
“Six is for dictators and crime lords. If it were a competition, you’re winning within your category.”
“Wild studs who annoy sad, stuck-up people?”
Did he mean I was the sad and stuck-up one? The fucker.
“Your category is the entertainment industry,” I stated, my tone ice-cold.
Lothair hummed thoughtfully and downed the rest of his coffee. Then he placed the cup on the table. “You’re right. I am highly entertaining. We’re going to have fun together, you and I.”
It sounded like a threat.
“Drink up. I’ll give you the tour.”
I followed Lothair’s perfect backside through his extravagant home as he pointed out guest rooms, bathrooms, and saunas.
He had a private photography studio and movie theater for forty people in the basement, a gym, an indoor pool, an outdoor pool, a glazed-in pool house, the largest Jacuzzi on the planet, a tennis court, and a couple of fully stocked bars.
He employed twelve people just to take care of the estate.
I’d need blueprints of the house to get to know it.
On the second floor, he showed me a lavish bedroom with the most enormous bed I’d ever seen.
Seriously, one could get lost rolling from one corner to another.
Above the bed hung a huge mirror on the ceiling.
Yep. He had that. A lounge area in various shades of red and gold stood opposite the bed.
With the little red lamps and potted palm trees in the corners, the place looked like an expensive brothel.
“I call it the fuck room,” Lothair said proudly. “I don’t sleep in here.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Over there.”
He led me through double doors to the other side of the hallway.
This bedroom was entirely average and furnished with only the basics.
A king bed stood against the wall, covered with white sheets.
Dark blinds partially obscured the floor-to-ceiling window, an empty water glass stood on the nightstand, one large painting of clouds hung on the wall, and a simple en suite bathroom with a shower stall hid behind a narrow sliding door.
It was the least impressive room in the house—the one place that did not fit his personality.
“You sleep here every night?”
“Yes. Unless I’m traveling.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Lothair threw me a suspicious look. “Out with it, Terrance.”
“It’s surprisingly simple for a man with such extravagant tastes as yours.”
“I never invite people in here. It can look like whatever.” He sounded defensive.
“Absolutely. I’m not here to criticize your interior decor. What’s behind that door?”
Lothair pushed another sliding door open. “My closet.”
It looked like a department store, double the size of the bedroom. I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“Good,” I said. “Then you can get dressed.”
He laughed but walked in and pulled a pair of faded jeans from a hanger.
He shimmied into them and dragged a simple white T-shirt over his head.
His hair got mussed up, and he glanced in the mirror covering an entire wall in the monstrosity he called his closet.
Combing through his hair with his fingers, he met my eyes in the mirror.
“Are you going to wear a suit all the time?”
“I dress formally when on the job unless the situation requires something else.”
“Good. You look hot in a suit.” And he winked.
He watched my reaction, but I didn’t let anything show on my face.