Strung along - The Dragon shifter's human mate

Red

Jordan

I know the leggy redhead has been staring at me on and off throughout the night, but I didn’t expect her to be this forward. She didn’t really seem into Hugo, and we usually have the same type. I wouldn't necessarily grope a woman, but I'm also not subtle. That's neither here nor there.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was her looking at me while we were up there, though. And apparently, I was right. So now I study her face closely for the first time.

Something… something about her makes the itch in my palms return. Her eyes are dark, and the almost blood-red of her hair is definitely bottle-born. That face, though. Your typical ‘southern bell,’ with pretty cheekbones and soft features that screw up in a scowl now.

“The regular human replies to a question with words.”, she hisses. And I can’t help my lips quirking.

“Not a regular human.”

“I know.” Something in the way she says that irks me, but I still try to push past it. So she’s one of those who know about shifters and really wanna f**k one now. Well, you don’t have to pull my leg. She’s pretty. I could really do worse.

“So…?” She looks at me expectantly, ignoring the obscene hand gestures Hugo makes, and she must be registering. I shrug my shoulders in response and then nod.

“Good.”

A second later, her warm palm closes around my wrist, and what feels like lightning shoots through my body when she pulls me to one of the private rooms.

“I think you should tell me your name first. What do you say, sugar?” I half joke, but she just glares at me over her shoulder and pushes forward until we reach the door with the number three embossed in gold. Pulling the handle, she pushes me inside with surprising strength.

The small room is dimly lit, and the soft R’n’B playing would put anybody in the mood. But oh no: the woman half drags, and half guides me to one of the huge armchairs. And I don’t know what I expected her to do, but sitting down across from me and crossing her ankles in an almost businesslike fashion wasn’t it.

Every last shred of the mental image of her bend over that coffee table or her long legs spread on either side of this chair bursts like a bubble when she leans back, slouching slightly, and folds her hands in her lap.

“Mr. Araújo…” I like her voice, I decide. Warm and light and still with so much purpose sounding in every word. Like she wouldn’t open her mouth if it weren’t at least a little bit important to do so. She blows out a breath and rubs a hand down her arm, curling her fingers against the skin on her wrist when she reaches it.

“Can I call you Jordan?” The question surprises me, but I nod my head regardless.

“You don’t know me, Jordan. We have never met before, nor did I plan or specifically look forward to this meeting.” Ouch. “But since it happened regardless, I feel obligated to share a few things with you.” She sounds like she’s reading from a textbook. It’s kind of cute. "Is that so?"

“Yes." She nods her head quickly. "Since I didn’t have a ton of time to prepare, am hormonal due to pregnancy, and usually already tend to ramble, I would like to ask you to excuse me if I do so. Please feel free to interrupt me should that happen.” Nodding grimly again, she pushes some hair behind her ear. “I don’t plan on wasting your time.”

I freeze, a little shaken by the info she just dropped in those few sentences. Hormonal, rambling…Pregnant…? Not usually a guy who is ever at a loss for words, but I feel like I might get there tonight.

She doesn’t look it. Pregnant, I mean. Then again, what do I even know? Don’t have that many points of reference. Noemi, my brother’s mate, didn’t start showing until she hit the 3-4 month mark, which is almost ready to pop when it comes to a Havfrue’s pregnancy.

I feel my face blanche. F**K. Alarmed, I try to commit every inch of her to memory, while I see her lips move as she continues talking. I compare her against the girls I’ve slept with in the last few months, but I—-

“Jesus Christ, take a breath, Jordan." I jolt at her stern voice. "It’s not yours. This isn’t me trying to confess you impregnated me.” She huffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Stranger things have happened.”

Rolling her eyes at my comment, the redhead places her hands on her knees and takes a sharp breath as if not calling me out, for my stupidity is starting to take a toll on her. Aww, thanks, honey.

“Listen, just to clarify, I am not, nor have I been, interested in s*x with you.” She pauses for a moment as if to give me time to let it sink in. “I’m merely possessing some information I thought you should have. Can I continue now?”

I wave to signal her to move along, but I can’t shake that uneasy butt-hurt feeling because of what she said just now.

“I’m in medical school at UM.”

“That’s impressive.” I voice my thoughts without thinking about it further and earn a pointed glare.

“When I was looking for a part-time job last semester, I replied to an ad by ‘Stiltzer.’” When my face stays blank, her lips twitch down a little, and her brows pull together.

“They’re a pharmaceutical company specializing in research on the telomere, telomerase…” I must look like I’m still not comprehending what she’s saying because she trails off and changes direction.

“They basically research how to slow down aging.”, she summarises. “I was really excited to start in their lab, especially because one of my professors speaks highly of their research in many of his lectures and— “

‘Red’ cuts herself off, and I see her swallow. “When I got there on my first day, I was pulled aside by my supervisor, and within 10 minutes, my lab coat was taken from me, and I was brought into an office.”

Something cold drops into my stomach, and I sit up a little straighter. “The head researcher was in there as well as someone from HR, and they presented an alternate set of obligations." Her hands fist. " It was basically a different position. Instead of employing me in their lab as I thought, they wanted to send me into what they called ‘field research.’”

My brows pull together. From what I remember from biology class in high school, it might be a little hard to research cell components without a microscope and in a field setting instead of a lab.

“Yeah, I must have had a similar reaction to what they were saying.” She snorts, and when I look up, I’m met with her eyes. Damn, so pretty. “They chose to just push a stack of files over to me. And… and when I looked inside, I was a little confused about what I was supposed to do with basically CVs of several men and women, who all seemed to be in their mid-twenties to early thirties.”

‘Red’ pauses for a second and shuffles a little in her seat, seemingly uncomfortable. “They… they called them ‘targets’”

Her shoulders seem to have stiffened, and my eyes rest on her right hand, which trembles slightly. “You were one of them. Your file was the one on top, the one they forced me to read through." She explains. "They discovered I work at a club and thought I could get my boss to book you and your band to play a gig. I’m… I was supposed to get some DNA samples. Multiple different sources, like blood or saliva, would be preferred for them to--

I told them to f*ck off and left.”

I stare at her open-mouthed and then start to laugh. “What?”