Chapter 1 Biting Heads
Biting Heads
Davidson
- Three months later -
“I have confirmed your attendance next week on Thursday. The exhibition opening at the Architecture Museum, remember?” My personal assistant, Lawrence Bracknell, né Winchester, knew me best of everyone in the entire world, which was comforting, practical, and sometimes infuriating.
I made a face. “Do I have to go?”
“You don’t. But since it’s the governor’s party, you should. I thought you might hate it less, given the number of shifters who’ll be there.”
“Whatever. Just mark it in my schedule.”
“Already done. I RSVPed directly to the governor’s team.”
Governor Figueroa was one of ours, which made his parties bearable.
At the same time, whenever I showed my face at one of these events, I could hear the whispers behind my back.
Some folks were becoming suspicious. Maybe there was something wrong with me.
Maybe my boorish behavior had repelled my mate before we could bond.
Maybe my fated mate had died a long time ago, never meeting me…
I held the title of the oldest still single dragon alpha in Ardaine, by the margin of a decade.
There must be something wrong with me. Would be nice to know what.
“This same invoice came twice,” Lawrence said, tearing me out of my spiraling dark thoughts. He placed the printed-out paper in front of me. “But I called their customer service and sorted it out, so you wouldn’t pay double.”
I glanced at the logo and winced. “You don’t have to handle these.” Yes, I had been letting my assistant take care of escort service bills. Up until now, I’d assumed he didn’t know what the invoices were for. Again and again, I’d underestimated Lawrence Bracknell. Would I ever learn?
The hint of compassion in his features made me feel pathetic—I would have preferred disgust and contempt. “They were very helpful and professional. Good choice, by the way. The company is known for its high ethical standards.”
“You researched escort services in Ardaine?”
Turning on the chair side to side, he looked smug. “A few years back, when I first found one of these and was deciding whether to be mad at you.”
I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead. He’d known for years. Of course, he’d known. “Anything else you’d like to bring up to enhance my current embarrassment?”
He pretended to think about it, patting his pregnant belly. It seemed to be growing by the minute. Wasn’t he only like four months along? “Not at the moment, no. But I’ll call you later in case I come up with something really good.”
He was unbelievable. “Go home, Lawrence. It’s five ten.”
“Thank you. Ernest is picking me up in a minute.”
“Good.” I turned my gaze back to my screen, hoping he’d leave soon. Stubbornly, he remained seated, the chair squeaking while he wiggled on it.
“I don’t see anything wrong with paying for companionship through an established firm that treats their employees with respect.
The omegas who work there have solid health insurance, and their student loans are paid for.
They decide themselves if they want to engage in sexual activities with their clients or simply provide company.
Sounds like a neat job. In my opinion, you have nothing to be ashamed of. ”
I sighed. “Do I need your approval?”
Smiling like the sun, Lawrence ignored my remark. “It’s actually considerate of you, in that twisted little way of yours. Until you find your mate, you can’t date anyway without engaging in a potentially heartbreaking dead-end relationship. Paying for sex is sensible.”
I stared at him. “Thank you, Lawrence, for clearing that up for me. My sex life would be a disaster without your input.” My voice dripped with sarcasm, but my assistant only grinned wider. “Are you done now?”
“Yes. I just heard the door. That must be Ernest. Have a great evening, sir, and see you tomorrow.”
“Thank heavens,” I muttered.
And he was gone.
The quiet felt sudden, the room cold.
Five months to go, then I’d lose him.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. Lawrence was my employee, clever and efficient, but only an employee. I wouldn’t actually miss him once he took the overly generous parental leave I’d promised him. I’d merely miss his capacity to stay on top of things.
It took me one more hour to wrap up for the day.
I’d be taking a few reports home with me to read later in case I had trouble sleeping.
As I was walking through the sitting area in front of the executive offices, something on the coffee table made me pause.
I spun the magazine toward me, staring at the enthralling image.
Blue eyes, almost turquoise, long pale lashes, puffy sensual lips, a birthmark above the top lip. A stunning face. There was something in those eyes, a flash of recognition, like the cover model was a live person looking at me, knowing me.
I frowned. Did I recognize him from somewhere? I’d remember a face like that.
The omega’s ocean-blue eyes drew me in, hypnotizing me.
He seemed so deceptively lifelike, even though most of it must have been makeup and digital manipulation.
Plastic surgery? No human being looked that perfect in real life.
Impossible. And why was I staring at a lifestyle rag cover model?
I glanced at the article title covering part of the man’s elaborate haircut.
“Dalton City’s most desirable omega—who’s snatched him up?
” Ugh. So trivial. The magazine was an older issue, from last year.
“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” The voice came from behind me.
I turned around to see our upstairs receptionist, whose name I hadn’t learned yet and possibly never would.
They came and went so often, memorizing them was a wasted effort.
Curly hair with too much product in it, his suit jacket one-size too small, a dreamy smile on his vacant face—another too young, harebrained pretty boy.
Where was HR picking them up? He wouldn’t last a month.
“Do you think this is appropriate content for the executive reception area?” I gestured at the magazine. “We’re the city’s top engineering company, not a nail salon.”
The omega went beet red comically fast. After a few seconds of heavy blinking, he snatched the magazine, giving me a wide berth, and scurried away, muttering an apology. His shoulders were hunched.
I rolled my eyes. Lawrence would no doubt say I’d been too harsh with the boy. But a trash bin fodder tabloid on display at Sullivan Aerospace? Really?
After the faux pas with Lawrence, I’d almost canceled the appointment I had tonight.
But I knew myself well enough—if I went without sex for longer than a couple of weeks, I’d be biting heads off right and left.
I felt a little bad for the young receptionist today.
More proof that to behave at least moderately human, I needed the regular outlet.
I’d found Seth six months ago, and now he came weekly, on Tuesdays.
He was attractive, but with none of the insolence I was used to from good-looking omegas.
Tonight, he arrived wearing simple jeans and a T-shirt.
We were past pretending there was anything glamorous or even remotely date-like about our encounters.
“Good evening, Mr. Sullivan.” He wouldn’t call me by my first name—that would be too personal.
“Good evening.” I headed toward the living room with him on my heels. “Do you want a drink first?”
“Whatever you prefer.”
I briefly inspected the sensations in my body.
“Are you up for two rounds tonight? No playing around.” Meaning we wouldn’t need the sex room. “I want to get it out of my system quickly, and we can take our time later.”
“Sure.”
“Get on your knees, please.”
“Here?” He glanced at the recliners by my indoor pool.
“Why not?”
Seth took the prepared towel and spread it out over the recliner, then he stripped unceremoniously and knelt on it with his ass pushed out.
Bracing one hand on the mattress, he reached into his crease and began fingering himself.
I opened my fly, pulled out my cock, and gave it a few strokes with my gaze pinned on Seth’s three fingers stretching his hole.
“You’re already wet,” I remarked. His slick was drooling out around his glistening fingers.
“I’ve looked forward to you fucking me tonight. Been wet and loose for the whole afternoon. You can be rough.”
I needed it. I needed to fucking ruin a hole.
“Stop me if it’s too much.”
Crouching behind him, I batted his hand away and pushed my cock in.
Seth wasn’t skinny. His thighs were chubby and his ass big and round.
I needed my boys sturdy, or I’d break them.
Even so, my dick looked violent, rammed in his ass to the hilt.
A part of me liked it. A part of me fucked as an act of revenge.
The wet slaps and choppy cries wound me up further until I was drilling into the squelching hole.
I am forty-six years old. Most of the dragon alphas my age have teenage kids. And here I am, fucking an escort every Tuesday.
As the anger rose, so did my arousal because I was a twisted, sick creature.
I thought of all the omegas I’d dated, hoping they might be the one.
Then of all the boys I’d met and hated on sight because they never were the one.
I couldn’t have any of them, and they couldn’t have me because my fucked-up genes insisted I wasn’t allowed to procreate with anyone who wasn’t a dragon mate.
Why give dragon alphas any sex drive at all then?
Why couldn’t my dick stay limp until I found my fated mate?
Seth came before I did. He was yelling, then keening, then sobbing. I wasn’t done, though. In the open space of my living room, the sounds of our fucking echoed around, bouncing off the glass walls and the surface of the water in my pool.
“Slow down, please,” Seth gasped out.