Fired by my Grumpy Dragon (Grumpy Monster Bosses #3)

THIRTY THREE

Loren

It takes me all morning to get the number to call my parents. I cut them off so effectively that I had to call my cousin living in New York who called his mom back in the Philippines. When I finally get the number, I enter it into my phone and sit there staring at it with a thick, choking feeling creeping up my throat.

Kivrayn is right. I know it.

I don’t have to like it, though.

Finally, I hit the green call button and lift the phone to my ear.

I rings. It rings so many times I don’t think they’re going to answer. I’m just about to give up, unsure of whether or not I’m relieved, when the ringing stops. “Hello?”

My throat is tight. I’m instantly transported back in time to junior high when I’d call up my dad, asking if he could come pick me up from a friend’s house or take me somewhere, knowing the answer would always be no.

I nearly hang up. Somehow, I force myself to say, “Dad?”

There’s a pause. “Loren?”

I hear noise in the background, a woman’s voice.

Dad speaks again. “Loren, is that you? ”

“Yeah.” Now I feel stupid. I don’t even know how to explain why I called after all these years. I don’t really want to talk to him. “Listen, I’m going to go—”

“Please don’t go.”

I’m stunned. I can’t say anything. In the background, Mom speaks. “Kindly give me the phone.”

I hear Dad hand it over.

“Loren?”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s me.”

“Oh, my little girl.”

“Not so little anymore.”

Mom makes a low humming noise, and when she speaks her voice is scratchy like mine. “Loren, we miss you.”

I don’t want to cry over them. Not again. “You should have thought about that,” I snap.

“Langga, we’re sorry. We know you’re angry with us. I wish you’d tell us why. We can’t bear to lose you too.”

The reminder of my brother’s death tips me over the edge, and soon I’m brushing away tears, frantically searching for a box of tissues.

Kivrayn hands me a handkerchief. He packed a fucking handkerchief? Of course he did.

I shoo him away when he goes to wipe my face, though I take it. “It’s complicated,” I say, into the phone. There’s a pause. “Maybe I’ll talk to you about it another time or something. Anyway I just called to tell you that I’m OK.” God this is awkward. I can’t believe I let Kivrayn talk me into this.

“I’m so glad. Can we have your number? Can we call you?”

Despite everything, I soften a little at that. “OK.”

When I hang up the phone, Kivrayn doesn’t try to talk. He just listens. Of all the right things he’s done recently, this might be the most right.

He lets me process how I’m feeling. Lets me rage about how she called me langga, the pet name she used to use when I was small. About how Dad just handed the phone over without a fight. Anything, everything they did is a source of frustration for me until I finally run out of words.

I flop onto the sofa with a huff.

“Feel better?” he asks me wryly.

“No.” I do, though. Not much, but a little.

“Come on. Get dressed. You need to eat.”

I shake my head. I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster ride the last twenty-four hours. I don’t want to face people. “No.”

“Yes.” He goes into the second bedroom where I put all my bags. I hear him rustling around in there for a while. I don’t make any move to check what he’s doing. I just sit slumped on the sofa, staring at nothing in particular.

When Kivrayn comes back into the living room, he has my little black dress and strappy heels in one hand and my leggings and a tank top in the other. “Pick an outfit. We’re going out.”

“I can’t wear that dress. It’s the middle of the day.”

“It’s inappropriate for any time of day,” he grumbles. “That is what you seem to like about it, but fine. Wear the other thing.”

“No.”

With a sigh, he kneels at my feet. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he slides the leggings over my feet and up my legs. Then he stands and lifts me like a doll to pull them over my hips. I relent and put the tank top on by myself.

Kivrayn combs his claws through my hair, which is probably a huge mess.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask him.

“Maybe I’m just learning how to do a better job of it.”

I think about what he said while I put on my shoes and socks and find a hoodie. I’m still thinking about it when we step into the elevator. I’ve suspected for a while that he liked me more than he let on. That he has been trying to protect me.

I’m not really sure what to do with the confirmation though. Is he getting feelings?

I thought I could rely on Kivrayn not to get feelings.

That could be awkward. I wonder how he’ll take it when it’s time to go back to Heartstone. I might have wanted a friend with benefits while I’m away from home, but he’s not someone I can see myself with long term. We’d drive each other crazy. Or he’d drive me crazy anyway. He’s far too controlling.

A little flutter in my pussy reminds me that I don’t mind it all that much. In the bedroom anyway...

I squash that thought as the doors to the elevator open and we walk into the lobby. “Where are we going?”

He shrugs. “Out. You need some air. So do I.”

I follow him without really caring where we’re going. There’s nothing I have to do today. Technically, I guess I should call Peter and let him know the collection is now unattainable. Locked up in Jenny’s estate and wherever it will end up after her will has been read.

I should be booking my flight back home.

We stop at a fancy deli and Kivrayn buys coffee and sandwiches. Then he leads me into Green Park, and we walk for a while until we find a bench to sit on. The sun is almost warm on my shoulders, and I close my eyes and tip my head up to the sky as he sits beside me. “I can’t let go of how angry I still am,” I say.

“With your parents?”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? It was years ago. I’m a grown woman. How do I let go?”

He’s quiet for a while.

Eventually I open my eyes to look over at him. My sandwich is lying untouched in my lap. He unwraps it and hands it back to me. I take a bite, tasting nothing.

“How did you let go last night?” he says quietly.

“Different.”

“Humor me.”

I consider. “I don’t know. I just did. I wanted to.”

“Hmm.”

Thinking back to that moment kicks my libido back to life, and I’m reminded that he still hasn’t let me come. I watch him from the corner of my eye while I eat the rest of my sandwich. Maybe it’s just that I’m horny and unsatisfied, but he looks more handsome to me than I remember him looking.

Maybe it’s the little smile on his face when I screw up the paper bag and take a sip of the coffee he bought me, or the way he tucks his wing around me to shelter me from the light breeze that starts up.

Clouds drift across the sun, and soon a fine mist of rain begins falling. Kivrayn shifts his wing so it shelters me.

“I won’t miss the weather in this country,” I grumble.

He chuckles. “It’s not so much worse than Heartstone.”

“I swear we’re lucky to have seen the sun while we’ve been here.”

“So you’re looking forward to going home, then?” He’s watching me intently. I can’t work out why, but I get the sense there’s more to his question than there seems.

I shrug. “Sure. Aren’t you?”

“Hmmm. I need to return to my hoard. I’m unsettled without it.”

“Tell me more about the hoard thing. Everyone said it’s magic or something, but I thought they were just exaggerating.”

His brow quirks. “Is that why you were such a brat? Had to test for yourself?”

I laugh. “Maybe. I do like to test boundaries sometimes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“So... did I test yours? Is it really magic?”

“Sort of. It’s bound to my magic. When you touched the earring I—I felt it like you were touching me.”

This makes me sit up a little straighter. “Oh really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Like this?” With the tip of my finger, I trace a sensuous line from his collarbone down his chest until his hand captures mine .

“Yes. But that’s not where I felt it.” His flaming eyes are so expressive I’m left with no doubt as to what he means.

I grin. “Oh really?”

“Yes, little brat. Why? Do you like teasing me? I certainly like teasing you.”

I groan at the reminder. My mind floods with images of his hands on my pussy, fingers sliding through wet flesh.

Of course that floods my underwear as well. “Has anyone else ever done that to you? Touched your hoard?”

Something crosses his face, like a shadow falling across his expression for a moment. Then it’s gone. “No.”

“No one?” I’m grinning even wider now.

“They would not have lived to do it.”

He’s still holding my hand pressed against his chest. I feel the thump of his heart pick up speed. Mine is racing in my chest. Beneath my palm, his body is hot, radiating warmth into me. His breath sends a cloud of steam into the air.

I don’t know what it is about the threat beneath his words. About what they imply. The danger in his voice sends a shiver through me, but the promise of their meaning should make me run a mile. Instead I climb into his lap right there on the park bench and grind against the thick bulge I find.

He groans. “Loren.”

“Mmm.” He finally releases my hand, and I use the opportunity to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

A hand closes around my neck but doesn’t tighten. I expect him to pull me off his lap at any moment. Instead, he pulls me closer. His hips thrust up from beneath me, lifting me, grinding that perfect bulge against my core .

He breaks away and I moan in frustration.

“Hold on,” he growls.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not quite desperate enough yet to have you right here in public, but if you continue, I make no promises.”

I hold tight around his neck as he stands. Then I realize what he’s doing as his body seems to melt and reform in my grasp until I’m clinging around a serpentine neck and his huge paws clutch me tight to his chest.

His muscles bunch and we launch into the air, but I’m ready. I press my cheek against his hot scales and hold on tight while he flies us up above the buildings and back to land on the roof of the hotel.