Cheryl posed like a pin up model because it gave her the extra boost she needed to sell her idea. She hadn’t talked Mal out of the cutesy logo. But maybe, if she were as confident as the models in the vintage art prints, she could talk him into making his last product launch these outfits.

Amber had faith in her.

Cheryl did think pin-up outfits were better than lingerie. “We have a, uh, proposal.”

Mal circled around so he was standing behind her. His breath made her skin prickle with awareness. His predatory stroll said he was going to take her now, in this office, and fulfill another of her fantasies with his hard masculine shaft.

“I’m listening.”

“We think you should use these outfits.” She indicated hers and two more draped over Amber’s arms. “For the launch.”

He continued around her to her other side. “What outfits?”

“The one I’m wearing.”

“You’re wearing?” His eyes narrowed and chin lifted. “You’re wearing the vintage line.”

Had it taken him that long to figure out she wasn’t in her usual hoodie and jeans? “Yes.”

He lifted her hand from her hip and slid his hot thumb up her sensitive inner arm. His touch lit her on fire. She swayed into him.

He palmed her waist. “It was not as popular with test audiences.”

“Now is the time to try again,” Amber said from the doorway.

Mal’s jacket caressed Cheryl’s bare arm. His trousers rubbed against her hip. “I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

He growled. “It’s distracting.”

“That’s okay.”

“It’s bad.” His burning eyes, his hot hand sliding up her spine, and his breath-stealing intensity made his words into lies.

“I think it’s good,” Amber said. “And so does Cheryl.”

He leaned in and took a deep breath as though inhaling Cheryl’s perfume. His rough cheek grazed her jaw. Anticipation tingled in her center. She breathed his masculine scent.

His quiet words were for her ears. “You are not bare, but I feel you revealing yourself to me as if you are.”

“Oh?” Cheryl wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Is that normal?”

“It’s intriguing.” He narrowed his eyes. “And distracting.”

That was the second time he’d called her distracting.

Amber piped up. “It’s her clothes.”

Her clothes made her seem bare? Panic shot up a warning. This wasn’t her usual outfit, and she was sticking it all out there and he didn’t like it. When they put it like that… she tried to cover her thin, T-shirt-clad belly.

He caught her hand and growled low. “Do not hide yourself.”

She swallowed. It was impossible to obey.

He tightened his grip, molding her to his implacable body. His heartbeat steadied her. But the panic remained.

He snapped at the rest of them. “All of you, out!”

“Mal, the outfits—”

“Now!”

The rest fled. Amber stood her ground. “I intend to test these for our next launch.”

“Do what you want!”

Her eyes flashed. She held the outfits to her chest and turned on her Mary Janes. “I will.”

Mal backed Cheryl against the conference table. His powerful leg slid between her damp thighs. “Close the door behind you.”

Amber obeyed as she departed. The door closed them in with a private click.

Cheryl clung to Mal.

“You’ve hidden from me until now.” His thick hardness pressed against her, a rod of powerful attraction, and his green gaze gleamed with hunger. He captured her hand and sucked on her fingers. A shudder washed through her. He nibbled up her wrist. “All of you is different. I have never seen you like this.”

His rough hunger brought her body to aching awareness. “It’s just nail polish.”

“No. It is more than coloration of your nails or changing your hair.”

“Sorry—”

“Do not apologize.” He growled into her neck. “I do not know this Cheryl. She is intoxicating.”

She tried to catch her breath. Being with him sucked out all the oxygen and her female sex throbbed. “I’m here.”

“Show yourself.”

She swallowed. He was always saying this. But if he felt like she was bare when she was wearing the pinup outfit, it seemed deeper than getting naked. It seemed like what he meant was that he wanted her to be confident.

Then, she needed his help.

“Tell me I’m beautiful,” she whispered.

“You are.” His honesty burned into her. Green shimmers of scales appeared on his skin and faded again.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Only you.” The shimmers reappeared. As though speaking to her this honestly made him lose control of his humanity and unleashed his beast.

She stroked the color. The scales felt like human skin despite the scale pattern. Did she have the power to make him lose control? Thinking so made her bold. As before, she made the demand. “Show your self to me.”

He growled, stepped away from her, and braced himself. The business suit shredded and pieces of expensive silk fluttered.

His body shimmered, iridescent green, like a shapeshifter or an illusionist. A green Wolverine, an X-man, who despite his alien characteristics, was still human. Then, he transformed.

Muscles bulged into being. Miles of it, hard and powerful as a body builder, wrapping around his torso and flexing his thick arms and legs.

A tail emerged from his tailbone with a triangular tip and whipped like a green devil. His teeth sharpened, white and carnivorous, behind thinning lips. His hair slid to a dark tuft at the nape of his neck as his head elongated into a long dragon snout.

He dropped to all fours. His fingers and toes elongated into claws, and his shoulder crested hers. His head brushed the ceiling. When he had transformed before, he had been much smaller, more human-sized. Now, he was much larger and looked like a dragon from the movies.

“What about your wings?” she asked.

He hesitated.

Didn’t he want to show her the final form? Or was there not enough room? She leaned back on the conference table.

It shrieked and collapsed.

He whooshed back to human form and dove to her side, catching and cradling her before she crashed into the ground too.

She gazed up into the familiar bronzed human face, normal supermodel-perfect teeth, and dark, brooding brow of her future husband.

He stroked her handkerchief-covered waves. “You’re okay?”

She nodded. Ugh. “I guess it’s time to lose weight.”

“Pyro damaged the table during our conference with Sard Carnelian.” He gritted his teeth.

Whoah. “He came here?”

Mal knelt and lifted her onto his naked lap so she straddled his right thigh. His powerful erection pressed against her belly. “I do not wish to speak of him now.”

The hardness convinced her of what he did want.

And she wanted it too.

Mal dipped and claimed her lips. She met him with an open, welcoming mouth. He thrust his tongue in and out, dominating her with desire. Her sex throbbed. She squeezed his thigh, rhythmically teasing herself.

He stripped her T-shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra, baring her breasts to his eager hands and hot, wet mouth. Pleasure burst from his kisses and the throbbing ache intensified. He parted her denim capris and she kicked off the shreds, and her underwear until she was as naked as he was.

Although she couldn’t have imagined it the last time she was in this office, now she relished being naked with him.

He paused and drank in the sight of her. Under his dark, possessive gaze, she felt powerful. Like when she’d walked in, wearing the pin-up clothes, and stunned him. A streak of her lipstick smeared across Mal’s chest like war paint. He was a warrior, and he loved her fiercely.

She positioned herself to accept his hard cock.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. The thick tip dipped into her wetness. “Cheryl.”

He felt like heaven. Her sex shuddered in anticipation.

She guided his cock in, already feeling like an expert even though it was only their second time. He gripped her waist in one hand and palmed her breast with the other, stroking her soft and sweet, closing on her climax. His bunched abs ground against her swollen nub and his cock stroked her wet channel. His shaft root brought her bubbly pleasure every time he rocked against her mons and his thick head pummeled her aching sweet spot.

Her pleasure mounted. He possessed her, owned her, loved her. And she loved him.

He growled and bit her shoulder, his own control fracturing. “Cheryl.”

She wrapped herself around him. The pleasure of holding her future husband burst upon her all at once, and she orgasmed deliciously. He roared and spent himself, blasting his hot load into her.

Lolling back, she relaxed in his arms… which were now floating in the air half a foot off the ground. His safe palm cupped the back of her head, pressing her to his solid shoulder, and his sheltering arm anchored her to his side while her feet dangled. She tightened.

He shuddered, the aftershock of his release. “You make me forget everything but you.”

Cheryl stroked his trembling belly. She felt the same way.

The first time had been life-changing. There had been aching need and irritation he wasn’t already inside her where she needed him. Then, shock and awe when she forced him there. And, finally, uncontrollable passion as she discovered what it meant to belong to her lover and give him everything.

This time was better.

The pleasure was sweet and intense without any surprises. But more important, it was right. This was the male she loved. No matter his reason for pursuing her in the beginning, they belonged to each other now.

“I forget, and that’s why we can’t do this anymore.” He lowered her to the ground. “I have a product line to launch. Get out.”