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Frosty
My beautiful dragon, with golden blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a physique worthy of Greek admiration, spends the entire night showing me his love and adoration. Every time I think we are ready to go to sleep, he playfully pulls me back into his embrace, showering me with affection repeatedly. Thank the stars that regeneration is one of our abilities, or I doubt I would have been able to walk down the stairs this morning.
I promised to check in with Xita to review the tests sometime today, but it will have to be early on. I have a meeting today, and the only way I would miss it is if I were dead. Besides that, with all the crazy shit that keeps happening, I could use a step out of my reality and into the fantasy world set aside for me and the other Lovely Letters. Of course, this means I will have to dodge Cato at some point so I can finally read the damn book that I have just kept postponing. I have put off some of their recommendations until the last day or two before, but this is cutting it a little close. Stealthily attempting to slip out of bed, Cato's arm wraps around me, pulling me closer, and his voice softly reaches my ear.
"What was it I said about the first thing I do every morning?" Any woman who ever hears Cato's voice would feel her clothes melting from her body, but his groggy and super-sexy morning growl can melt the entire body.
"I believe it was me? Wherever you found me? You see, I listen." I give him the most devilish grin. "Would you like to do me right here or in the shower this morning?"
"Both!" He moves so quickly, rolling me under him, that all I can do is laugh and hold on to him, ready and willing for anything my mate wants to do with me.
Two hours later, I am sprinting down the stairs, laughter echoing with my dragon right behind me in full pursuit mode. I would never have imagined that Cato could be as playful as this. Every minute alone with him is pure joy. I bring myself to a sudden and complete stop right before I run into Avalon. Cato stops right behind me, lifts me, and places me behind him before Avalon has even turned around.
"There you are. Prayer is getting ready to send your squads off. They've chosen to travel the way you instructed them, so that says something. Xita refuses to leave the lab at all today. Kassie mentioned having plans at Black River tonight and will not be available. Prayer said she has to beg off tonight after seeing everyone off to their locations, but she'll be ready to jump in again tomorrow." Avalon sighs, clearly exasperated. Well, he is definitely not going to like this news.
"Perhaps it is just been a lot for everyone. We may not know what we are, but we know what we are not. I also need to request a few hours to myself to do things I have not been able to do since I got wrapped up in all this. I do not mean that negatively, but a girl has got to have some time to herself to do her own thing once in a while." I carefully school my expression to appear as innocent as possible, working hard not to burst into laughter at his astonished expression.
"All four of you would have torn me a new one if I had suggested you take some time off yesterday. Now, suddenly, you all want the same time off? What's up with that?" Avalon's tone is laced with suspicion, and he narrows his eyes, scrutinizing me.
"We share messages with each other that you cannot hear or see, My Heart. Perhaps it is a unique 'us' thing. You'd have to be part of the sisterhood to truly grasp it, I think." Prayer stealthily sneaks up behind Avalon, gracefully standing on tiptoes to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. His entire face lights up, and I cannot help but be overwhelmed with joy for my self-proclaimed sister.
"I would like to know where my squads are going exactly. If Cato and I need to head out tomorrow, I need to have a priority list."
"I am glad you feel that way because they are not moving until you tell them where to go. Apparently, being Prince Regent isn't worth much compared to the Alpha's Hoard. Before you get pissed at me, please remember you told them they could call you whatever they wanted, and I guess that is what they wanted." Avalon does not even try to contain his laugh, bending over and slapping his knee.
I roll my eyes at him. When I turn around, Cato straightens, his expression entirely vacant. The urge to make him suffer horribly lingers, but I opt for a dismissive eye roll and a casual wave of my hand.
"Go ahead, get it all out." It takes them both a few minutes to rein in their laughter. "Just so you both know, it was not that funny. You are both so old that knock-knock jokes would send you into hysterics. Your hoard is going to check on our squads now, dragon-boy. If you can gather your senses, perhaps you can join me."
I entwine my arm with Prayer's, mirroring the mischievous grin reflected on her face. Within a few steps, the men catch up and pull us apart, dragging us along beside them. These two men are older than the modern human species. One of them cannot be killed by any means, and the other grows to a size larger than a house. Neither of them can stand to be two feet away from their mate at any time. I smile at Prayer because I know that we both love every moment of it.
We walk into what is without question the most appealing room in the entire clutch—the library. It looks like it was designed for a princess from a fairy tale. My people all have their bags ready, and my eyes immediately zero in on the matching watches adorning their wrists. Raising an eyebrow at Avalon, he signals Reggie Thompson to step forward.
“Nichlos believes it is in everyone's best interest to equip linked watches, especially when venturing into areas deemed dangerous in the pursuit of rebel leaders like Harley and investigating missing shifters. Each watch has the ability to locate another. They can send messages in text, voice, and, I believe, morse code. If they are not in direct contact with their biometrics for more than five consecutive minutes, a notification will go out to each linked watch plus Nichlos's system he has set up to monitor everyone."
I stare at Avalon, trying to process all that he has said, and then I look around at the entire group.
"You are all ready for this? Do you understand the danger is severe enough to warrant such measures? Are you comfortable with your skills? Do you understand we are sending you to be a backup for the people who are already out there?"
Silence follows, but each team member expresses agreement with a resolute nod.
"I will admit the technology makes me feel much better about this. Avalon, where did you say the immediate calls about missing shifters were?" I ask, pulling out my mental notepad.
"Evander is currently in Pomona, California. Roman arrived in Tulsa, Oklahoma, earlier this morning, and he is focusing on cases in Kansas City, Missouri. Leander and Evander have both reported instances of missing shifters in these locations."
"Camillo, Julie, and Donny, you will be joining Roman in Kansas City. David, Emily, and Avery, head out to Pomona and speak with Evander. Gather all available information from his investigation. Alan, Stacey, and Reggie, your destination is Tulsa, where you will join Orion. Maintain vigilance, but avoid heroics during reconnaissance. Your mission is to collect intel and return here. Due to radio silence, we are relying on you as our eyes and ears. " I glance at Avalon and ask, "Is everyone who works with our team going to receive a communication tracking device?" He nods. Turning back to the divided squads, I instruct, "Secure the necessary equipment for your contacts. Any questions?" As expected, silence follows – no questions, just a nod of understanding from each team member.
The moment they receive their assignments, Prayer waves and sends them off.
"Now, My Heart, would you like to spend the day with me doing what I am doing, or would you prefer to go do your own thing and see me later?" she asks.
I might feel bad for Avalon if I was not so busy being amused by the utterly lost expression on his face. That is until I raise an eyebrow in question at Cato, and the same expression is on his face. To his credit, it only takes Cato a moment to step up with an almost satisfying answer.
"Obviously, I would rather be with you, doing whatever you are doing. What is it you are doing?" he asks.
"I am going to head back up to our room, and I am hoping you will be sweet to me and bring me some food," I say, pulling out all the feminine stops—twisting my leg on my toe, playing with my hair, and batting my eyelashes. Unfortunately, it does not have the effect I was hoping for.
"Oh, that was just awful. I love you with all my heart, but Vixen, that was terrible," he remarks.
I resist the urge to laugh because, although he is oblivious to it, he just handed me the upper hand on a silver platter.
"If you cannot appreciate my efforts to ask you nicely, that is fine. I will just be in our room. If you do decide to come up, it better be with an extra-large white chocolate raspberry coffee," I declare, spinning on my heel, winking at Prayer, and making my way to our room.
Thirty minutes later, Cato enters the room with a tray, bringing it over to where I am curled up on one of the recliners. The cursed vampire book is in my hands as I attempt to read through it, convinced it will improve as I delve deeper. My mate does not utter a word as he grabs a book of his own and settles into the other recliner. As I expected, it does not take long for me to become engrossed in the story, and I reluctantly admit that the author has skillfully avoided the typical Dracula-style vampire tropes.
Glancing over at the table, I check the clock and feel a sudden rush, realizing it is almost time for my Lovely Letters meeting. I am on the verge of giving my mate the choice of embracing secrecy under the threat of the worst penalty I can conjure, or he can leave the room.
I am unsure how to broach the significance of this meeting with Cato or how I became a part of it. Opting for a more indirect approach, I decide it is best to get all my things ready and allow him to pose any questions he may have. In the closet where I stashed my things when we got here, I pull out my secret box. It only comes out twice a month, but until Cato and my new family, those two days a month were the ones I looked forward to the most.
Opening the box, I extract the second-most feminine item I own—a silver babydoll nightie—and my mask, crafted from silver filigree with a butterfly and lace forming the face. I slip into the nightie and reach back in to retrieve my long silver wig, adjusting it as I always do before placing the mask on my face.
I anticipated a range of reactions from Cato—perhaps lighthearted jokes or laughter—I never expected the whirlwind of response that ensued. The moment I stepped out, he sprang from his chair as though it were on fire, practically flying into me. In the blink of an eye, he pressed me firmly against the closet door, his hands and mouth moving with a breathtaking speed that robbed me of any coherent thought. The sheer intensity of his touch ignited a fire within me, turning my body into molten lava. Before he even had his pants undone, I found myself caught in the whirlwind of sensations, panting and pleading as desire surged through every inch of my being.
He presses me flush against the wall, skillfully bringing both my legs around him and plunging himself into me. The sheer force and might emanating from Cato are sensations that can never be described—they demand to be felt to be truly understood. It is as though my body is weightless, effortlessly lifted and moved by his strength, moving our bodies for maximum pleasure.
In the midst of this overpowering blend of strength, desire, and love, Cato's relentless motions drive him deeper into me, pushing us both to the brink of ecstasy. The crescendo of sensations reaches its peak, and I find myself unable to contain the intensity, releasing a primal scream of pleasure. As my nails dig into his shoulder, Cato responds with a final, powerful thrust, and his body shudders against mine as he slowly lowers me down the wall, never breaking the intimate connection between us.
In the aftermath of our passionate encounter, he maintains his grip on me and walks us over to the bed, easily transitioning into a seated position. Cato remains intimately locked inside me, and I am securely wrapped around his body, as our breathing slows back to normal.
"Besides driving me to the brink of fucking insanity, what is this hot-ass outfit for?" Cato asks.
The knowledge that my nightie had such an impact on Cato, and the thought of him taking me like that every time I wear one, makes me want to run out and buy dozens of them. With him still inside me and the wild, sensual memories of just seconds ago playing through my mind, my body squeezes down on him as I focus my gaze on the white light emanating from his eyes and chest.
"Shit, yes!" Cato growls, standing up, dropping me back on the bed, and taking me again. I revel in how perfectly matched my mate is in all things to me. Twenty minutes later, I manage to find my voice again, and as I piece myself back together, I begin to explain what I can.
"When I woke up in that hospital, after all the challenges I had gone through, the psychologist they assigned to me suggested I needed something that was mine. Something I enjoyed but could also share with others. They recommended various activities like sports, classes, and clubs with different interests. At the time, I was not sure what would interest me. The psychologist's nurse often had romance novels lying around, and one day, I picked one up and started reading. She told me about a secret book club she was not supposed to know about but had details on anyway.
When I first heard about it, the idea seemed almost ridiculous and cheesy. Women dressing up however they liked, creating their own unique masks to discuss books of the paranormal romance variety. It all felt very cloak and dagger, and I was not entirely sure about it, but I found myself intrigued. She got the sign-up information for me, and I thought, what the hell? I filled in all the info and signed up. A few days later, I received an email granting me access and listing the books currently up for review. I went out, bought the book, and read it cover-to-cover that day. The next day, I picked up this outfit and the wig, but it took several tries to get this mask just right.
I grab the laptop, the book, and the earbuds I habitually use—keeping things private in a small apartment means keeping things quiet. Cato watches as I set everything up and wait for the access codes to come in.
"Are you committing crimes, Vixen?" Cato asks, chuckling as he looks over my shoulder.
"No, but we do not want hackers in our business either. I cannot speak for the other women in this group, but the allure of anonymity was a big factor for me. This is my thing, My Treasure. I relish the fact that I can enjoy a good time with these women in an unconventional fantasy setting. I want it to remain mine. You are a part of me, and I have no interest in hiding this from you, but no one else needs to know about it. On that, I know we all agree, hence the masks," I explain, pointing to my mask as I execute the complicated steps of accessing the chatroom. Cato smiles, nods, and leans back in his chair. From there, he can observe without being seen. Just before the room loads, I glance at Cato, lift my finger to my lips, and mouth the sound "shhh."
His eyes flash white, but he remains silent as, one after another, the Lovely Letters book club ladies appear on the screen. I smile behind my mask, recognizing the familiar masks as the women become animated, discussing the unique plot of the vampire romance we had all initially struggled to begin reading.
"I do not understand why you guys do not trust me. It is not like I ever go for your mainstream vampires. Admit it, it was far better than you thought it would be," Y proclaims, giving herself a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
"Oh, please. Vampires are a dime a dozen on the shelves. You just lucked out with that choice, and you know it," X retorts, crossing her arms and playfully wagging her finger back and forth at the camera.
"It was not luck. I have read other books by the same author, and I knew it would have some kind of twist," Y defends, thumping the book in front of her for emphasis.
"Y, are you cheating on us?" I ask, barely holding back my laughter.
"No! It does not count if it is just a regular romance... does it?" Y replies, now holding her book up and peeking over it, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Half of the Letters are in fits of laughter, with some tumbling backward out of the camera view, while others cover their mouths or clutch their stomachs. These are my people, and I am immensely grateful to have a mate who was willing to step back and allow me the "only for me" time I needed.
"Not to bring the mood down, but did anyone happen to spot a note on the server or anything about W not making it tonight?" P, who has been unusually quiet, speaks up once the laughter has subsided.
"I have no means of reaching any of you if something were to come up and I could not make it. I am not trying to be rude or indifferent, P, but that is the way I prefer it," R says in a hushed tone.
"No, I get it, R. It is just hard to recall a time when W was not around. I am sure everything's fine, and honestly, even if it was not, we would not have a clue. Let's shift gears. Z, your turn! What book have you cooked up for us?" P says, her smile evident beneath that perpetually amusing purple and green mask. Clearly, her fascination with aliens knows no bounds.
Z unveils a fresh hardcover book, its cover adorned with a majestic dragon, its tail elegantly encircling a woman's stomach. K, ever enthusiastic, jumps up and down, fully prepared to fall in love with whatever literary dragon boyfriend is introduced to her. If only I could show off my real-life dragon mate to my book club. Would that not just blow them all away? I am proud of Cato, though. He managed to keep his disgust down to a low snort that was only detectable to me.
A few minutes later, I bid farewell to my fellow book club members, knowing it'll be another two weeks before our next gathering. The moment I close my laptop and rise from my seat, Cato swiftly takes everything from my hands and neatly stows it away in the closet. As I am about to change out of my outfit to prepare for bed, Cato surprises me by lifting me from behind and deftly flipping me to face him, gently laying me down on the bed.
"I watched every move you made the whole time you were chatting with your friends. Every breath you took wearing this thing was driving me insane. Now, I am going to enjoy this nightie of yours my way. All night long," he growls into my neck. My legs instinctively part, wrapping around him, inviting him closer to me.
I definitely need more lingerie. Lots and lots more.