“Blast those… those fools! Don’t they realize they are standing in the way of noble progress?” Lex swore. The urge to crumple this ill-fated letter and hurl it in the snow was so strong he forced himself to put it down. He needed to keep this offensive letter for his records.
“What is the problem, azizam?” Lex looked behind him toward Dori, his once-fiancé and current… something. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to rekindle their long lost love, but Dori and his own traitorous heart weren’t giving many choices. Not that he wasn’t still fighting—he had no intention of just rolling over for the beautiful Persian goddess. She broke his heart thousands of years ago and she was going to have to do a lot of groveling to get it back. Nor was he going to share his frustrations with her. Niether she not the monkey-child, Marissa, fully appreciated his brewing genius. He would wait until Mooney, Marissa’s wolf, returned from whatever errand he was running. Mooney would support him he was sure.
Dori watched Lexor carefully as a kaleidoscope of thoughts flashed across his smooth, exotic face. A person could read him like a book if they were paying close enough attention, which was a good thing since this ancient Egyptian demi-god rarely said what he really thought about anything. She saw the usual: that he was still fighting his god nature to fit in with common shifters, that he was still obsessed with making her earn his heart back—never mind that he’d already forgiven her almost a year ago. Dori was somewhat alarmed when she spotted an underlying air of sneakiness. Lexor was up to one of his schemes again. Sometimes they turned out fine but usually they blew up in his face. Or Marissa’s face, rather.
“Lexor, azizam, my sweetheart. What is bothering you?” Dori said with a gentle smile to soften the not-so-soft purr in her voice.
“Nothing assal,” Lex replied airily as he quickly folded the slightly crumpled letter and tucked it in the inside pocket of his blazer faux-nonchalantly. Dori knew better. The only time he called her any endearment, even assal, old Egyptian for honey, was when he was trying to be charming. Lexor was never charming. He was too literal to be successful at artifice and knew this so he didn’t usually even try. Dori, after thousands of years living in the Persian Court of Gods, found his guileless approach to life refreshing and very attractive. Of course, since he was definitely trying to hide something, the feline goddess inside her would not let her drop the subject until she knew what the great mystery was.
“Lexor, my love,” Dori said as she slid behind him and wrapped her arms around his trim hips, rubbing her cheek on the tweed of his coat. “You know and I know that something is bothering you.” Next, Dori buried her nose into the warm, brown skin at the nape of his neck, leaving a trail of little kisses that made him shiver. Dori was please to note that he was standing perfectly still instead of trying to move away. He may still think he was angry at her for her defection when they were young, but he could never lie with his body.
“It was nothing,” he finally said, his polished voice a bit huskier than normal. Dori smiled and let her hands slip inside his coat, exploring his chest as she continued licking and nipping her way over his neck. He sighed and she grinned all the more and began working his coat off his well muscled shoulders so she could reach more of his neck.
“I just got notification that those incompetent fools at the US Patent Office have refuse to grant me a patent on my newest creation, Blue Moon Ale,” he said, very little of his earlier angst showing in his voice as he shrugged, deliberately helping her remove his coat. Dori grabbed it before it hit the floor and used setting the coat on the counter as an excuse to move around to his front.
“I believe there is already a Blue Moon ale out there,” she commented as she renewed her exploration of Lex’s body, carefully running her hands down his hard belly so that she avoided and skin-on skin contact, touching him only through the thin cashmere of his trendy sweater. Lex loved it when she teased him this way, she knew. Modern fashions that exposed too much skin for all to see annoyed him. Not because he was a prude—as an ancient Egyptian demi-god, he’d once run around in a kilt and head dress and little else. Rather, Lex liked the “unwrapping of something no one else got to see,” as he put it.
“But their product is completely different than mine,” Lex argued halfheartedly as he began “exploring” her completely covered body, as well.
“Ale is ale, my love,” Dori purred, dragging her nails along the thick ridge that had sprung up inside Lex’s jeans. “Maybe you could give it another name. What about “Smurfberry Blu Ale?”
“Um, what were we talking about?” Lex mumbled?
Mission accomplished! Dori thought as she grinned. One bad-mood evening averted and replaced with something much more enjoyable. Let him be stubborn, she thought. All’s fair in love and war and winning these little battle of will made the victories all the sweeter for both of them.