“I’m watching you, little witch.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Six
York
Every single time York went for a run, he vowed to himself that he would remember just how good it felt to be out and about. There was no city like New York. It was always bustling, always full of people, always alive and awake. It felt good to be part of it, even if it was just for a run around the neighborhood. His muscles, happy to be in use, pleaded with him to keep going. He obeyed, even promising his dragon a flight soon if the beast stopped going on about Josie Essa and mates.
York was drenched in sweat and about six miles away from his apartment when his phone rang, rudely interrupting his flow and a good song. He pressed the answer button on his smartwatch, and the frantic sound of Jordyn’s voice filled the cordless earbuds stuffed into his ears.
“There’s an emergency.” She was on the verge of tears. “Lewis Nolan is here, and he says you had an appointment. I know you didn’t, and I checked your calendar and spoke with Marissa.”
“Who?” he asked as he took his pulse.
“Your assistant. Mr. Nolan is adamant that he see you right away.”
York swore under his breath. Lewis was an asshole, who liked to play the powerful little man by making York bend to his every whim.
“There is no doubt in my mind that we didn’t have a meeting. He’s doing that thing again.”
“Oh,” Jordyn took a deep breath of relief. “That’s what I thought. I’ve already messengered a suit to the brownstone. It should be there in fifteen minutes or so.”
York noted the time. He was closer to his mother’s brownstone. He and Jordyn had done this multiple times before, this reminded him why he couldn’t run in the neighborhood. He had to always be close to a shower and clean clothes because of pricks like Lewis Nolan.
“You’re an angel, Jordyn. You really are. I might have to give you a raise and make you my assistant.”
“Mr. Nolan is being very mean. Please be here soon.”
York’s jaw ticked. He hated when people lacked respect for others. Lewis Nolan was a shifter, a jaguar line, that didn’t have as much power and wealth as the Warwicks. Lewis liked to take it out on the subordinates of the company, even though York had reminded him multiple times that the Warwick name wouldn’t stand for it. He was going to have to give the man a lesson, but first, he had to book it to Jordyn. She didn’t deserve any of the venomous shit Lewis was spewing her way.
“I should be there in thirty minutes. Tell him I’ll meet him in his office. In the meantime, why don’t you go to my office to do your work.”
“But the reception…”
“I think the other execs can do without you for a little while. Besides, they know how Lewis is. Hang tight.”
With as much speed as he could muster, York ran the one mile to the brownstone and let himself in.
Johanna must have already hired someone to take care of the renovations if the piled boxes and wooden crates were any indications. He made his way to the master bedroom en-suite preferring that shower to the others. As he scrubbed away the sweat and grime from his run, York kept an ear out for the messenger.
It didn’t come.
He turned the shower off and wrapped a soft towel around his waist. It was as he was combing back his hair, fully expecting to hear the doorbell announce the messenger’s arrival, that he heard it.
The click of the door unlocking.
It was odd, seeing as Johanna had told him she was staying at the Ritz. Maybe his mother had decided to come and check on the progress that was being done on the brownstone. The jury was still out about that. The house was overcome with boxes and crates. There wasn’t much that had been packed away to make room for renovations.
Still only wrapped in his towel, York made his way down the stairs. The smell of something sweet and enticing filled his nostrils.
Definitely not his mother.
The scent pulled at something in his memory, but he couldn’t quite place it. His dragon was having a blast at his expense, chuckling like an idiot. Maybe whoever his mother had hired had arrived to get to work. York frowned. It was eight. Good daylight had already been burned by whoever wasn’t taking their job seriously.
“Hello?” he called out.
The sound of a woman squealing in fright echoed through the brownstone. He could tell the sound had come from the kitchen, and he made his way there.
“I mean you no harm,” he announced. “My mother owns the property.”
He rounded the corner, and two things happened all at once.
First, his dragon went as insane as a cat on catnip.
Second, Josie Essa was standing in his mother’s kitchen, holding out an enormous butcher knife toward him.
He raised his hands up defensively. “It’s me,” he said. “York Warwick.”
Josie lowered the knife, her hand going to her heart. It was pounding wildly in her chest. “Shit, you scared me.” Her voice was raspy, but her eyes were taking in his form.
He immediately regretted not grabbing a robe. Even a frilly pink number would have done wonders at covering his nakedness.
It doesn’t matter, his dragon cooed. She’s our mate. She gets to see it all. Touch it all. If you’re lucky, lick it all.
York beat back the thoughts. Just seeing Josie in her tight blue jeans and a cream-colored tee was enough to give him a chubby. The towel would do absolutely nothing to cover his hardening junk. He stood behind the counter, hoping she wouldn’t notice how tense he was.
“Do you live here?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Your mother—”
“No, no.” He had to interrupt. Her discomfort made him feel horrible. If he hadn’t been naked, he would have rushed to her side and given her a great big hug to soothe the pounding of her heart. “I needed the shower.”
“Oh-kay…” her voice trailed off, unsure and still terrified. “Do you often use the shower here? Just so that I know?”
He chuckled.
Full-on chuckled.
He hadn’t done that in a hundred years. The sound surprised the hell out of him. He had forgotten the sound of his own laugh.
“No, this was an emergency.” He went on to explain his situation.
She nodded along. “You need to make sure you grab Jordyn a coffee for her trouble. She’s sweet, and she’s very loyal to you.”
The words caught him off guard.
“I had a chat with her yesterday,” she explained. “After you gave me shit for my shoes, she went out of her way to explain that you aren’t a raging asshole.”
York blushed deep and hard. He saw it playing across his bare chest. He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that. It had been a long day. Which is no excuse. I just don’t like heels. They really are a safety hazard.”
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, making both him and his dragon weak in the knees. “I won’t sue you if I fall. I wear my heels at my own peril.” She continued smiling at him, the sight of it going straight to his cock.
I told you she was our mate. You can smell it on her. She smells sweet, like cake and sex. You should lick her. Prove me right.
York could have thrashed his dragon for giving him the visual of licking Josie. He was very happy that the counter was hiding his full erection. He would deal with his beast later, and that time? He wasn’t talking about his dragon, but his cock.