Dalton, Tymber - Doggy Tales [Doggy Tales] (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

That wasn’t the full truth. She sensed it. Years of being around Lester and his ilk had finely honed her senses in that way. Usually in favor of her own self-preservation, learning when not to ask questions. “What else?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Very perceptive. We do a lot of, shall we say, confidential work for clients. I need someone who can keep their mouth shut and show discretion. Either you really didn’t know anything, which I doubt, or you were smart to overlook things and ignore natural curiosity, keeping yourself purposefully in the dark as to his dealings. Someone like that I could use working for me.”

She relaxed only slightly. “I don’t want to work for someone doing anything illegal. I’d like to return to some semblance of sanity in my life.” She looked down at her hands. “Meeting Lester was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’d prefer a fresh start in all ways. Including I only want to work for someone who doesn’t engage in illegal activities.”

“That we don’t do, Ms. Pangborn, I assure you. There are many reasons for secrecy involving legitimate enterprise, especially where industrial secrets are important to a company’s survival.”

She relaxed even further. She could deal with that. The rare times Lester talked at all about his “associates,” they usually involved construction, waste disposal companies, or Northern unions.

But one more issue needed to be dealt with. “I have to be honest with you, I’m not comfortable working with that huge dog in the lobby.”

A frown crossed Bruin’s face. “And why is that? Did he growl at you?”

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. I was attacked when I was child. I’m terrified of dogs.”

He templed his fingers. “That is a problem. We allow employees to bring their dogs to work.”

Her heart sank. “Oh,” she quietly said, tensing to stand. “I’m sorry I wasted your time today. Thank you anyway—”

“I’ll pay you fifteen hundred a week to start, for the first three-month probation period. We can negotiate salary after that.”

She froze. That was
damn
good money.

Alternately, her bullshit buzzer sounded. “Fifteen hundred a week? For answering phones? What’s the catch, Mr. Bruin?”

“That’s to start. You’ll be handling sensitive documents, contracts, information. I’m not in the office a lot. I spend quite a bit of time traveling. You would have a lot of responsibility once you’re up to speed. You won’t be merely a secretary answering phones. You’ll be my executive assistant.”

Genna sat again. “But I’m not that experienced. I’m not even sure what exactly you do yet.”

“I can train you. It’s easier to train skills than it is discretion.”

Dogzilla’s grey eyes haunted her. “How many people bring their dogs to work?”

“Several. Not every day. Ivan rarely leaves Lindsey’s side when she brings him. He’s great for keeping walk-in salespeople out,” he joked.

So Dogzilla’s name was Ivan.

Bruin continued. “If you enter the building as you did today, your only contact would likely be Ivan, unless you ran into someone in the elevators or outside in the parking lot. I can make it known that you aren’t comfortable with dogs, and that our staff should accommodate your fears.”

“Fifteen hundred a week?”

“And fully paid health insurance on top of that.”

She considered it. It was a lot of money. She’d already signed a lease at an apartment not too far away, the first six months paid from what turned out to be over twenty-five thousand in cash in the envelope.

“When would I start?”

He smiled, twisting her heart again. “Immediately, if you wish.”

“Is the day after tomorrow okay? I have to finish moving.”

He nodded. “All right.” He called someone and spoke to them briefly. When he hung up, he stood. “I’ll take you to Human Resources, and they’ll handle everything.” At his office door he held out his hand. She shook with him, but this time she almost fell into his deep, piercing eyes. “Thank you for coming aboard, Ms. Pangborn.”

* * * *

Three hours later, Genna was back at the house she’d shared with Lester, packing another load to take to her new apartment. She didn’t bother with any of the furniture, just some books, pictures, CDs, and other items she wanted to keep. The attorney told her the Feds wouldn’t hassle her when they went after him on RICO charges, especially if it looked like she barely took anything. She’d already purchased a bed, due to be delivered later that afternoon. She could easily afford to buy new furniture with the money she had left over, stashed securely in a safe-deposit box.

By midnight she collapsed on her new bed in
her
new apartment. The place was a disaster, but she didn’t care.

For once, it was something all hers.

Genna still had at least three more carloads to bring over from the house, but she could tackle that in the morning. She’d forwarded her mail to a PO Box in Palma Ceia, over twenty minutes south and a pain in the ass to get to, but she didn’t want to risk Lester’s “associates” finding her too soon. If they’d even bother looking for her.

She fell into an exhausted sleep and dreamed about a large, wolflike dog, much like Ivan.

Only this massive animal possessed Bruin’s butterscotch eyes. Where Ivan’s coat was black and dusted with silver, this enormous beast was dark brown with traces of black around his piercing eyes.

In her dream, she lay in bed and watched him pad toward her, suddenly shifting and morphing into Jeremy Bruin—naked and throbbingly erect—and he crawled onto her bed.

Damn, what a fantastic dream!
She felt his hands hot against her skin, and decided it was fine to have erotically charged wet dreams about the boss as long as she didn’t do anything about them. She’d always had vivid dreams, but this was beyond her wildest imagination.

His lips scorched her flesh. His teeth gently bit at her pebbled nipples, and she squirmed beneath his massive form as his throbbing cock brushed against her leg.

Real-life sex had never been this good with Lester.

Genna groaned with need as he lifted his head from her breasts. He yanked her legs apart, diving between them, his lips and tongue working at her mound, flicking her clit. She gasped, trying to squirm against him, but he gripped her thighs with his massive hands and held on tight, forcing her to stay still as he mercilessly brought her to climax three times in quick succession.

When she lay gasping and spent, he effortlessly flipped her over, driving his enormous cock home in one hard thrust, making her cry out.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her to her knees as he fucked her from behind.

“Mine,” he growled, his other hand reaching around to cup her throat and pull the back of her neck against his lips.

She didn’t respond, too busy enjoying the feel of his large cock bottoming out, stretching her in a way Lester’s small tool never could.

He jerked her body, hard, against him. “Mine!” he growled again, his teeth raking against the back of her neck, sending erotic shivers through her body that settled in her suddenly very sensitive clit. “Say it.”

“Yours!” she gasped.

His tongue traced a slow path down her spine as he stopped thrusting, holding himself still deep inside her.

He growled. “You’ll never want anyone else, will you?”

Fuck no, not if the dreams were this good!
“No,” she whispered. Hell, it was just a dream. Who cared what she said as long as he started banging her again.

His hands dropped to her hips, and he gripped her, hard, as his pelvis shot forward, taking her even deeper than before.

Doggy style, how ironic.

She stifled a laugh. Even in a dream she considered it rude to snicker at the guy fucking her. Especially when he was dream-fucking her so well.

He folded his body around hers and pumped into her, impaling her very depths. His breath, hot and heavy on the back of her neck, made her shiver. “Then I claim you…now.” He bit into the back of her shoulder as he rammed into her one final time, his arms around her hips, shooting his hot seed deep within.

She cried out not from pain, but from the unexpected orgasm that nearly ripped her apart from the inside out. She never came like this!
Holy crap, this is fucking great!

Panting and trembling, she collapsed to the bed. He was already standing, looking at her with a strange expression.

“Go back to sleep. This is just a dream.”

Genna weakly nodded. “Of course it’s a dream, dumb fuck. I know that.” Holy hell, his cock was still
huge
.

Before her eyes he transformed into the dog again, silently padding out of her bedroom. She dropped her head to her pillow, content and ready to resume boring sleep when a long, loud howl outside her patio startled her eyes open.

“What the fuck?”

She climbed out of bed and peeked through the window. Outside, the dog tipped its head back and howled again, long and eerie. A moment later, two more howls sounded in response from a few blocks over, it sounded like.

Wow. What a dream!
Okay, so it felt like she had come—and was sore from being fucked—but she’d been asleep and the sound of that dog outside was what likely triggered it. And the soreness was most likely due to all the moving.

Genna sat on the bed and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted. If she could dream like that every night, she had no reason to get involved with anyone.

She reached behind her, touching a sore spot on her shoulder, where the Dream Bruin had bit her. She felt something there, a raised bump, maybe? But it was already feeling better. Probably a damn mosquito. If she’d really been bitten, she’d hurt like hell, right?

When her alarm clock went off at seven the next morning, Genna wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But she needed to get into the habit of getting up for work, and then memories of the dream snapped her wide awake.

Wow.

She took a hot shower, her sore muscles protesting another day of moving and organizing. Out of curiosity she wiped the steam from the mirror and turned to look at the spot on her shoulder. An odd pattern of pink bumps, no longer sore even, but probably from a damn mosquito repeatedly feasting on her bare shoulder all night long.

That’ll teach me to sleep naked.

* * * *

Jeremy padded away from her apartment, feeling conflicted. He reached his car, parked in a dark patch of asphalt under an oak tree. No one around and hidden in the shadows, he shifted back, pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, and got into his car.

He knew what he’d done wasn’t usual. Claiming a mate was for life. He accepted that and was more than prepared to take care of Genna.

He hadn’t expected to develop feelings for her when he claimed her. She was, technically, still the enemy, even if she was now his mate.

Never mind, that didn’t change anything. Revenge for pack blood spilled by that fucking asshole took precedent over all else. Especially when the packmate murdered was his cousin and best friend.

He started the car and drove home.

* * * *

It took her most of the morning to finish moving. She made another furniture-shopping run, stopping to get more cash from the safe-deposit box. By evening, she cooked her first meal in her new kitchen.

Okay, so it was a one-person omelet. It was
her
kitchen.