Cynthia Sax
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Copyright ©2013 Cynthia Sax
BIN: 06536-02102
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Changeling Press LLC
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
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Their Missing Lynx (Big Cat Mates)
Cynthia Sax
Rue has been obsessing over her two sexy male bosses for months. She wants them, needs them, craves them. No other men will do. She’ll risk everything -- her job, their respect, and her life -- for one wild night with her employers and the chance to make her naughtiest fantasies come true.
Ben and Lorcan want more than one wild night with Rue. The big bear shifter and the savage lynx shifter know she’s their mate. They’ll try anything -- flowers, sweet words, an all night erotic frenzy -- to claim Rue permanently.
Because if they don’t claim Rue, death will.
Rue sat at the end of the bar, swirling her fruity drink with a bright yellow sword-shaped stir stick. She’d ordered a sangria and received… she frowned, tilting the glass to study it closer… she didn’t know. She shrugged. It had alcohol in it. That’s all she cared about.
Tonight was a celebration. She’d finally closed the lumber deal, fending off the wolves -- the three fiercest negotiators at their rival company. The contract would make their sales target for the year. Her bosses would be proud of her.
Her bosses. Rue moaned quietly, rubbing her thighs together. Simply thinking of them made her pussy moisten. Lorcan, a lynx shifter, and Ben, a bear shifter, were two of the sexiest males she’d ever met. When she’d given them her hand to shake during that first interview, she’d longed to give them a piece of her heart -- the lonely, hidden piece she kept concealed from everyone else.
She lusted after them, dreamed about them. Every time she touched herself under the covers in the dark, she saw Lorcan’s silvery-brown hair and unblinking hazel brown cat eyes, Ben’s broad face and generous smile. Sometimes she fantasized about her bosses taking turns fucking her but more often, in her dreams, they took her together, filling her, using her for their own decadent pleasure. She wiggled on the barstool, the worn vinyl squeaking under her skirt-covered ass.
The bartender, an older gray-haired gentleman, glanced toward her. Rue stilled, her face heating. His lips quirked upward as though he knew what she was thinking. He resumed polishing glasses and watching barrel racing on the big screen TV.
Did he like barrel racing or was it the only acceptable option in this western-themed bar? Saddles straddled the rafters above them. Faded country album covers decorated the wood slat walls. The twang of a country song filled the beer-scented air. A woman berated her man’s cheating ways, her voice mournful.
Rue didn’t hum along. Not only couldn’t she hold a tune to save her soul, but she also felt no sympathy for the country queen. She had bigger problems than an unfaithful man. The two males she lusted after were gay. Over the past seven months, she’d watched enviously as they touched and embraced and kissed, teasing each other with their coarse fingers and firm lips. She had wanted to slip between their hard bodies and intercept their kisses.
Rue wiggled again, her pencil-line skirt hiking above her knees. She needed to get laid. A fast fuck with a stranger would take the edge off her lust, allowing her to concentrate on business.
She glanced around, searching for a candidate, a willing male she could use and then lose. A man slumped over a table, face down in a puddle of spilled beer, his breath blowing bubbles in the liquid. Newspapers were stuffed in his long gray socks, and he appeared dirty as though he’d been living on the streets. Another man picked his front teeth with a folded piece of paper, his belly hanging over his belt. The sheen on his greasy forehead reflected the lights.
The selection was poor. Rue sighed. She was desperate but not that desperate.
Three big bodies filled the bar’s entrance, backlit so she couldn’t see their faces, and her hopes for a meaningless sexual encounter revived. They were tall and broad and muscular, their legs braced apart. From their mere silhouette, Rue knew they were men in their prime, well able to give her the anonymous fuck she required. If they were ugly, she could close her eyes. She’d done that in the past. She hooked the straps of her tote over her right shoulder, preparing to approach them.
Her body, heart, and soul refused to move.
These strangers weren’t Lorcan and Ben and touching them would be wrong. Rue’s arousal cooled, her heart sinking. She was in deep trouble, obsessed with two men she could never have.
The three males swaggered into the bar, heading toward her. Rue recognized them, and her frustration turned to irritation. The wolves had found her, and they looked furious. The largest one, Nels, bared his teeth at her, his hairy fingers folded into huge fists, his boot heels ringing on the hardwood floor.
Rue slipped off the bar stool and smoothed her skirt down, ready to make a quick escape. Nels’s henchmen spread out, blocking her in. Luckily she wasn’t alone. She glanced over her shoulder at the bartender. He nodded at her, silently confirming he wasn’t going anywhere.
“The deal is ours, bitch,” Nels growled, his beady, brown eyes hard. “Those big tits of yours might have temporarily confused the decision makers.” He sneered, his gaze lowering to Rue’s breasts, her curves completely covered by her conservative black blazer. “But that confusion ends now. If you know what is good for you, you’ll close your legs and let the big boys do business.”
Rue straightened to her full height, which was over a foot shorter than the smallest wolf. “I won the contract fair and square.” She bristled inwardly at the implication she’d used her body to land the deal. She was a damn good negotiator. “There’s no confusion. They chose the best company for the job.” Rue glared up at Nels, prepared to defend herself, the company she worked for, and her two males.
“You don’t want to mess with us, human.” Nels leaned forward, looming over her, forcing her to tilt her head farther back. He smelled of wet dog and stale sweat. “You’re no longer in your prissy city. This is the north. People disappear here all the time.” One of his henchmen sniggered.
Rue had heard the stories of missing negotiators and had dismissed them as rumors. Now, she wasn’t as certain. “Are you threatening me?”
“Why would we have to make threats?” The big wolf’s eyes gleamed with malice and fear skittered up Rue’s spine. “You’re smart… for a woman.” His trained dogs chuckled. “You know what you have to do. We’ll give you until Friday to make this right.” Nels pivoted on his boot heels and walked away. The other two wolves followed him.
Rue exhaled, her shoulders lowering, tension easing from her body.
“Those three are bad news, miss,” the bartender observed. She turned to face him. He appeared genuinely concerned. “You must really love your boss to confront them like that.”
“Bosses,” Rue corrected. “And I love my job, not them.”
“You tell yourself that.” The bartender placed one of his polished glasses on the top of the bar. “But no one risks her life for a job.” He poured two fingers of whiskey into the glass.
She twisted her lips, hearing the truth in his words. “They’re gay.” And she was a fool. She should put in her notice, find a safer job, obsess over men who could return her affections. Rue returned to her bar stool.
“Ahhh…” The bartender set the glass of whiskey in front of her. Sympathy reflected in his pale eyes. “This is on the house.”
Her state was so pitiful, it warranted free alcohol. Rue stared into the rich amber liquid, the color of the whiskey reminding her of Ben’s eyes. She had to get away from Ben and Lorcan… preferably before Friday, before the wolves hunted her down. She cradled the glass between her palms. It was time to end her fantasy.
Ben rubbed the ivory cushion over his face, searching for more of Rue’s delectable scent in the soft silk. Their yet-to-be claimed mate had been out of town for a week, finalizing a big lumber deal with a pulp and paper company, and her absence was driving his inner bear crazy.
“You’re destroying the couch again.” Lorcan perched on that piece of furniture’s farthest armrest. “When Rue returns on Thursday, she’ll be upset with us.” He batted one of the crystals dangling from the chandelier, and the sunlight streaming through their home’s floor-to-ceiling windows split into a rainbow of colors, bathing the hardwood floor with light.
“When Rue returns on Thursday, we’ll have bigger problems than ruined furniture.” Ben swiveled his ass into the spot where Rue always sat, the couch legs groaning a protest. “We waited too long to claim our fragile human, and my bear can’t be controlled.”
“Whose fault is that?” Lorcan hopped off the couch, and his bare feet smacked against the floor. “Waiting was your idea.” He prowled soundlessly around the perimeter of the room, Ben’s lynx shifter mate never staying still for long periods.
“Your brilliant idea was to strip her naked during her interview and fuck her on the boardroom table.” Ben snorted. “That’s not how you claim a mate.”
Lorcan turned his head and stared at him, his cat eyes serious. “That’s how you claimed me.” Tuffs of his silvery-brown hair stood straight up. He didn’t use styling products. His hair naturally defied gravity.
“You’re male and a shifter.” Ben scratched the couch’s leather seat, releasing more of Rue’s scent. “She’s human and --”
“Delicious smelling.” Lorcan’s nostrils flared. “My cat wants to spread her thighs and roll in her musk.” He approached the couch once more, his gaze intent. “We have to claim her soon. We aren’t the only ones interested in Rue. The wolves have been sniffing around those long legs of hers.”
“They won’t touch Rue.” Ben’s claws extended, digging into the leather couch. “She’s ours.” He struggled to contain his bear. “We’ll protect her, claim her.”
“Fuck her senseless.” Lorcan passed behind the couch, drifting his fingers over Ben’s shoulders. Ben felt his touch through his checkered flannel shirt. “One of us should have gone with her. I don’t like that she’s alone.”
“She won’t be alone for much longer.” Ben’s cock pressed against the zipper of his blue jeans. “We’ll woo her and claim her.” The front of Lorcan’s camo pants was also tented. No matter how many times a day they fucked, neither their animals nor their cocks were satisfied.
“We tried wooing her.” The lynx shifter strode toward the window, the fabric of his pants pulling tightly over his firm ass. “The flowers didn’t work.”
Lorcan stared out of the window. Ben knew exactly what he looked at. The building serving as their home and office was situated deep in the forest. Pine trees stood tall all around them. Moss-covered boulders were placed in front of the gravel parking lot. The lake was a mere five-minute sprint to the right.
“She thought the flowers were a thank you for the Timmins deal.” Lorcan frowned over his shoulder, the lynx shifter not known for his patience. “That wouldn’t have happened if we had included that card I crafted.”
“Telling our female employee we want to suck her pussy dry might have had unpleasant consequences,” Ben drawled, his male mate being as tactful as a sledgehammer. “There’s a reason we agreed I’d do most of the talking.”