Unexpected Mates ~ Book One

“Ow, fuck!” Sylvie bounced off the stupidly hard chest and clutched her nose, panicking when her hands filled with blood.

Natalie gasped, shoving her papers into a manila folder and throwing them forcefully into the bin. “Mr Fletcher!”

“Not now, Natalie,” he growled, grabbing Sylvie’s shoulders to steady her.

The torrent from her nose made her eyes water, and she wrenched herself backwards, bumping into Natalie’s desk.

“Stop moving.” Gripping her chin, he tilted it with surprising gentleness. Sylvie batted her eyes open, clearing the tears with a blink and met his icy ones. “Come here,” he said, pulling her back towards his office. She protested, but the pouring blood dripping on the carpet made her panic.

“Mr Fletcher,” she groaned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He continued guiding her to his office, his giant hand pressing against her midback. “Just stop before you spray more blood all over my floors.”

Her mouth snapped shut, the taste of copper saturating her tongue.

He sat her in his plush office chair and grabbed a towel from his bottom drawer. Then, walking to the fridge, he pulled out an unopened water bottle and wet it before returning and kneeling before her, guiding her hands away from her face. After stroking the damp fabric across her cheeks and around her throbbing nose, he paused and hummed. “It’s stopped.”

Dropping his gaze to her bloodied hands, he wiped each finger and her palms until they were only tinged pink.

Her body tingled as his warm breath fanned across her lap. “Mr Fletcher?”

“Elias,” he corrected, lifting his narrowed gaze to hers, his eyes appeared darker in the office lighting, and Sylvie found herself leaning towards his full lips.

“Elias,” she breathed. Her gaze magnetised to his, the urge to touch him making her fingers twitch. “I have to finish printing the copies of...” her voice trailed off as his iris flickered a deep shade of red.

“What’s happening to your eyes?” she whispered, her trembling fingers brushing his cheek. Her sudden touch seemed to shock him, and he pulled back with a scoff. He stood, running a hand through his hair before looking at his bloodstained hands. He froze, and Sylvie stared up at him in horror as he brought his fingers to his lips.

“What are you doing? Mr Fle-”

His eyes shot to hers, a thunderous scowl across his brow as his hands dropped to his sides.

“Elias,” she corrected herself, growing hot as a smirk formed on his lips.

“You should wash your hands or something,” Sylvie continued, standing and looking pitifully at the stained blouse. Fern was gonna kill her.

“How is it that I find you not doing your job every time I look for you?”

Sylvie stuttered, edging the opposite way around the desk, keeping her eyes glued to her boss. His broad shoulders and muscular frame swayed slightly as if he were about to pounce any second.

“Natalie called me over. I didn’t know what she was doing.”

Elias spun, his brow rising along with his disdainful smirk. “You want to blame Natalie? That’s rich, considering she gets her work done when I ask, and you don’t.”

Sylvie flamed red and clenched her jaw. What was his problem? Elias’s eyes twinkled, and she frowned in response, letting her voice rise higher. “Are you baiting me? What the fuck is your problem?”

His smile and forward prowling made her back up, and she tripped on his lounge suite, her ass catching the arm of the couch. She fell backwards, her legs flying into the air as her back smacked into the couch cushion.

“Elias,” an unfamiliar voice tsked. “Didn’t I teach you not to play with your food?”

Sylvie swallowed, swinging her legs off the couch’s arm and planted her feet on the floor. If a person could die from embarrassment, she would be long dead.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered, smoothing her clothes and realising she had lost a very important button off her blouse. Sylvie gripped the sides of her shirt together as a gorgeous man sauntered into the room, his deep-brown skin glowing under the office lighting. His perfect smile and umber eyes hypnotised her. Who is this guy? Her knee’s inched apart as she imagined his hands sliding up her legs-

“Get out of here, Kian. It’s not happening.”

The sensation along her thigh stopped, and she gasped softly.

“Ah, what a shame. I thought we were business partners.”

Elias rolled his eyes, standing between Sylvie and the new visitor.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I need to share everything with you,” he growled.

Sylvie’s heart raced as she listened to their words. They made her sound like cattle. Then, without thinking of the consequences, she stood and pushed against Elias’ back. He didn’t move, but the shove felt good.

“What the fuck do you think you’re talking about?”

Kian’s smile grew wider as he stared at Sylvie and approached her, hands raised. “Forgive me; I am truly, desperately sorry. Will you give me your name so I can apologise properly?”

Elias stepped between them again, his broad back bumping Sylvie back onto the couch. He stared down at her, a warning in his gaze.

“Lie.”

She swallowed, scoffing before coming up with a fake name. “Jade.”

Elias’ approving nod and Kian’s falling smile made her stomach swirl with conflicting emotions.

“Good girl,” Elias remarked before nodding to the door. “Head home.”

Her stomach flipped at his praise, and she stood, clutching her top together before rushing past and praying they couldn’t tell how much she wanted them.

That night she pulled out her favourite toys to ease the rising need in her body. However, after her third orgasm, she realised nothing would put out the fire those two men set ablaze.

Sylvie dreamt of them every night for a week, each taking turns using her body in ways she had yet to experience. Then, after clocking in for work every morning, she prayed she wouldn’t see either of them. And for that week, she didn’t.

Besides serving coffee, printing contracts and answering emails, her days remained as mundane as ever.

Natalie appeared in her doorway as she sat down and cheshire-grinned, playing with her sharp acrylic nails.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened in his office last week?” she asked, wiggling her brows.

Sylvie sighed, pressing her fingertips to her nasal bridge. “Natalie, please stop asking me. Nothing happened.”

“Your shirt would beg to differ.”

Sylvie flushed and crossed her arms. “What do you know about a man named Kian James?” Her searches for him on the work email came up with nothing exciting besides a few offshore business deals—big bucks.

Natalie smirked, “Information for information?”

“Yes,” Sylvie groaned. “Just hurry up before someone comes in here.”

“Kian James owns half of this company, but he’s like the secret benefactor, and Elias is the face of it. They’re friends too. If you want any more, you have to tell me what happened.”

Sylvie pretended to mull it over, relishing Natalie’s frown. Finally, she raised her hands in surrender and blew air from her lips. “He cleaned me up, and I fell on his stupid couch, which is what popped my button off, by the way. Then Kian came in, and they started talking about me like I belonged to them or something, but fuck that.” Sylvie rolled her eyes, remembering how they looked at her. Despite her irritation, her stomach flipped, and her inner thighs tingled.

Natalie sniffed lightly, and her brow raised. “That’s interesting.”

Sylvie looked up at her, expecting a sarcastic expression, but the pure confusion on Natalie’s face made her pause.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I’ve just not heard of anyone resisting-”

Sylvie interrupted her with a grumble. “Natalie, I’ve got work to do. I’m not interested in your weird sexual innuendos. Please,” she begged.

Natalie hummed and backed off. “Alright then, talk later,” she purred, strutting back towards her desk.

Sylvie flicked through dozens of mind-numbing emails, her eyes turning hazy when a low throat clearing startled her.

She bolted upright on her chair, knocking her empty mug onto the ground and gasped seeing Kian in her office. He darted over and scooped up her stray cup, promptly placing it back atop the old coffee stain circle on her desk.

“Did I frighten you?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

Sylvie bit her lip and tucked her dark waves behind her ears. “I’m fine.”

He strolled across the room and flopped on the spare chair. People in the office used her space like storage space, so she wasn’t even sure where it came from. “When you look at me, what do you see?” Kian smiled again, swivelling as if displaying himself.

The urge to speak the truth swirled in her throat, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Aren’t you my boss?”

“I didn’t ask you to say anything inappropriate, little one.” His dark eyes sparkled, and her heart raced under his gaze. Something about him reeled her in.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered, realising too late the words left her mouth and didn’t echo in her head.

He smiled and pressed his lips together as if holding in a laugh. He was toying with her, and she liked it.

“I mean, you’re too perfect,” she said, hoping her light foundation covered the burning heat across her cheeks. “You don’t even seem real.”

At that, Kian’s brows lifted, and he stood abruptly. Sylvie leaned back in her chair as he crossed to her desk and peered into her eyes. “What are you-”

“Back up, Kian,” Elias’ voice boomed from her doorway.

Why everyone seemed drawn to her tiny office was beyond her.

“She’s-”

“Back up. She’s mine- she’s my assistant.” He gritted his teeth as Kian backed off, turning to face him, Elias’ strange claim affecting everyone in the room. Sylvie’s heart raced, and her core throbbed; she hadn’t been so turned on in ages. The urge to trail her fingers down her front to her waistband hit her intensely, and she looked wide-eyed at Kian’s body.

His taut muscles rippled through his cotton shirt and dark jeans. Unlike Elias’ massive form, Kian’s musculature appeared more defined and symmetrical. He really was perfect. He could have been carved in marble, and Sylvie would lust over the stone.

“Well, perhaps she would like to be my ‘assistant’ too,” Kian challenged.

Sylvie looked between them with confusion before standing and grabbing her bag. Then, pushing past them both, she kept her head down and jogged to the elevator, slamming the button to the ground floor. Her heavy breathing echoed in the steel box as the blinking red light in the corner mocked her. She scowled at it before crossing her arms and waiting for the doors to open.

“Come on.”

Once outside, Sylvie was able to breathe again, the thick sexual chemistry no longer affecting her brain. She ran to a nearby shop and bought some lunch before returning to the office. To her relief, both men were gone, and she ate in somewhat peaceful silence.