Terrance

Lothair washed his hands with soap in the kitchen sink before he made us both coffee in a machine that looked like something capable of launching us into space. I couldn’t stop thinking about him not washing his face. He must still taste the omega’s slick on his lips. Why did that bother me so much?

He led me outside to a lounge group under a cabana, where he sprawled in his cum-stained tighty-whities. I was sure he was doing it all to rile me up. Was it some twisted initiation ritual, or was he trying to get rid of me?

I loosened my tie and pulled my slacks slightly up before I sat, facing him.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.” That was the first thing he said. Great.

“That’s not what your manager thinks.”

“My manager is human.”

“I noticed.” I’d met Carlos the day before. He was a small, round omega in his forties who drank twenty cups of coffee every day and popped Tums like mints. Lothair was probably responsible for at least one of the man’s ulcers.

Lothair leaned back against the pristine cushions, stretching his torso and showing off his impressive physique. He was sculpted, even for a shifter, and I could see why that body had earned him enough money to build this monstrous mansion.

“People think I’m pushing my abilities to the limit when I do what I do. Instead, most of the time, I must stop myself from running too fast, jumping too high, or punching too hard. I need to be the best, but if I’m too good, I don’t appear human anymore. It requires restraint and precision. That’s why I’m constantly aware of every little movement and detail in my surroundings. With all that, tell me, why do I need your help?”

He jerked his chin forward arrogantly, and I had to smile at his speech. He was missing the point of me being here.

“Mr. Courtemanche, this is not a job interview, and I don’t have to prove myself to you. It’s you who needs me and not the other way around.”

He scoffed. “I have never needed anyone before.” Even as he kept challenging me, he sat all relaxed, his voice pleasant.

“Why did you agree to employ Cassidy and Hassel?” I asked.

“To get my manager off my back.”

“This is not a charade. If I’m to work for you, we will follow the protocols.”

“If some nutjob decides to shoot me in the street, what will you do? Catch the bullet?”

“Statistically, clients who follow the advice of a security consultant run a much lower risk of being exposed to incidents, including direct attempts on their lives. I’m not going to catch the bullet. But I will make it much harder for anyone who wants to hurt you to get close enough to do it.”

“As long as I do what you tell me.”

I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for him. “Yes.”

He just looked at me for a long time, studying me with an unnerving focus. Suddenly, he slapped his thighs.

“Okay,” he said brightly. “Good thing you’re a shifter. I won’t have to hide from you.” He smiled roguishly and adjusted his dick. His eight-pack rippled.

“Mr. Courtemanche.”

“Call me Lothair, please.” Something about the curve of his plump lips made me wish I could slap and wipe that million-dollar smirk off his face. He was just a brat who never grew up. I remembered guys like him from college—popular, attractive, rich shitheads who got away with everything while the rest of us had to keep our heads down and work our asses off.

Chances were, I wouldn’t even last the month I’d promised to Devon. My new client irritated me just by existing.

“Lothair, I understand the plight of an unmated alpha dragon. But I would appreciate it if your sex life didn’t interfere with our scheduled meetings.”

His glee only grew. “What? Didn’t you like seeing a fuckable hole early in the morning? Wakes one up, doesn’t it?”

I took a gulp of my coffee, holding his gaze. “Ten’s not early.”

“Do you get up at six and head straight for the gym before work?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Well, to each their own. Do you have a mate, Terrance?”

“No,” I answered honestly. It wasn’t uncommon for a dragon alpha to be unmated at twenty-eight. Lothair, on the other hand, was approaching thirty-five and fucked around like one of those rodents who’d climb down trees and copulate to death. I’d thought the rumor mill exaggerated, but this morning confirmed it.

“I fuck dancers for breakfast, and you go jogging. We all cope with reality the way we deem best, am I right?”

“I’m not judging you.” I was judging him a lot, but whatever. “You’re free to do whatever you want as long as it’s consensual.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Of course, it’s consensual. Did you see them? They were happy as clams. I made them all come three times since last night.”

“You count it?”

“It must be fair. Why would I invite three bendy dancers if I couldn’t satisfy all three equally?” He waggled his eyebrows.

And here I was discussing fairness in orgies with Lothair Courtemanche. Devon wasn’t paying me nearly enough for this gig, private pool be damned.

“My compliments to your prowess,” I said dryly. “Could we go through your weekly schedule now?”

“I don’t have much this week. We can look at that later. But I didn’t pay attention when my manager briefed me about this deal. Are you going to stay in my house?”

“Six nights a week, yes.”

His dimples popped. “Sweet.”

“I come with you whenever you leave the premises and always accompany you in public. If you are visiting someone’s private home, we agree beforehand on how we’re going to proceed, depending on your relationship with the person and the security procedures at their place—”

“And if I want to go alone?”

“You shouldn’t. Based on your lifestyle, level of popularity, and the threats you’ve received during the past year, we have evaluated your risk factor as four on a scale of one to six. For comparison, the governor’s risk factor is three.”

“Who has six?” He leaned forward with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“It’s not a competition, Lothair.”

He licked his lips. “I hate being mediocre.”

“Six is for dictators and Mafia bosses. If it were a competition, you’re winning within your category.”

“My category? Wild studs who annoy sad, stuck-up people?”

“The entertainment industry.”

Humming thoughtfully, Lothair downed the rest of his coffee. Then he placed the cup on the table. “You’re right. I am highly entertaining. We’re going to have fun together, you and I.”

It sounded like a threat.

“Drink up. I’ll give you the tour.”