Slave School Dropout, page 1
Slave School Dropout (All Wrapped Up)
Dakota Cassidy
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Dakota Cassidy
BIN: 01260-00386
Second Edition
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Changeling Press LLC
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
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Table of Contents
Slave School Dropout (All Wrapped Up)
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Dakota Cassidy
Slave School Dropout (All Wrapped Up)
Dakota Cassidy
Nyla is a cat. So is Lucas.
Nyla is an Egyptian descendant of Bast. Lucas… isn’t. In fact, he’s so far off the scale of high falutin’ lineages, he’s precariously tipped them. He’s a Tom cat.
Nyla and Lucas have been friends for over a year since they met at a shifters’ meet and greet. Until one day, Nyla smells what Lucas has smelled all along.
Her lifemate.
What does any good pair of lifemates do when they have to seal the deal? A little bump and grind, but who knew the bump and grind meant floggers and spankings and a host of kinky stuff Nyla had no clue Lucas liked?
Oh, and it never hurts to mention that Nyla’s family is a snobbish, upper crust bunch of shifters who will probably want nothing more than to see to it that Lucas and Nyla’s status is revoked by the lifemate council.
It’s High Society meets the ASPCA -- with a decided twist…
Author’s Note:
To all who indulge in the lifestyle of BDSM, please note that my slant on such is strictly humorous and never meant to insult or degrade anyone’s sexual practices as long as no harm comes to the participants. I support and encourage all forms of sexual expression between safe, sane, consenting adults.
This book is for my kiwi, Jaynie. Smart, opinionated, loyal and supportive, she brings intelligence and fire to my cyber world. The love and friendship she shares with me each and every day are irreplaceable. I am awed by her strength, forever grateful for her in my life. This one’s for you, m’love! Also, for a very special someone who began by giving me the gift of friendship in a decidedly uniquely wrapped package and then, turned into someone who brought me some much needed banter, ROFLMAO giggles, girlie sighs and a new perspective on what it is to be truly treasured.
Love Always,
Dakota
Prologue
I smelled him before I actually saw him.
Yeah, he was smokin’, all right. He set my pert nose to twitching like no one before him. I honestly had a shiver from head to toe.
Full bodied tingle.
It was righteous, baby.
The shame in all this? This nose of mine can’t smell the difference between high socie-tay and frickin’ ASPCA.
But I digress.
So, like I said, I smelled Mr. Yummylicious from a hundred paces away in the kitty condo/collar and leash aisle. He’s scopin’ out kitty collars and I’m locked on his ass, all tight and pert in a pair of faded jeans, like a laser scope sight. He was way big, not Arnold Schwarzenegger muscular, mind you, but big enough for this girl to contemplate climbing the mountain that is him, and he had some killer hair. Sort of multi colored, with a million different highlights. The kind you can’t get in a bottle or even at a fancy salon.
Meow.
I’m not ashamed to eyeball a guy. I’m all about gettin’ mine and I wanted to get his while I was at the gettin’.
Okay, so, hot, fierce ass and shoulders the width of the River Nile.
Oh, yeah, did I mention I’m from Egypt?
Well, not like green card Egyptian. My ancestors are from Egypt. I’ve lived right here in New York all of my life.
My heritage has a great deal to do with this mess of shit I’m in right now, but again, I digress.
Ahem… Kitty condo aisle -- me -- Mr. Yummylicious -- tight ass in faded jeans -- and a scent like Utopia in my nose. Better than tuna even…
I’m goin’ in on a wing and a prayer. The prayer being that when his six-foot-four frame turned yonder -- he’d have all of his teeth.
Teeth become very important to a girl who’s dated Bubba, trust me. He’s alive and well and living in an apartment in Soho with his brother Cletus. I know because I’ve gone out with them. I think between them, they shared a tooth…
Anyway, I actually would have settled for even just the top row of teeth if he’d let me squeeze his rolls of Charmin right there in the kitty condo/collar and leash aisle.
He looked sort of familiar, but I didn’t have my glasses on. Go figure, a feline who needs glasses? Absurd, I know. I’m nearsighted.
So anyway, he turns around.
Gimme a sec, because just remembering it makes me all breathless… well, horny too, if honesty is what you’re looking for.
Okay, so it was kinda like in the old movies. All slow-mo and dream-like. He turned around and my heart did the flippy thing and my stomach followed suit so as not to be left out. I think I tripped on one of those squishy mice toys and fell into him.
I swear to Ra it wasn’t on purpose. That sounds trite, doesn’t it? Like I planned that stupidhead Amos wouldn’t clean up the aisle or something. Plus, I was kinda standing on shaky ground and my knees became one with my neck. All at once, ya hear me knockin’?
I was totally verklempt when I finally saw his face and it wasn’t just because he had teeth.
He was the shit.
You know who I thought of when I first saw him? Like really saw him? That Brawny paper towel guy. Rugged and craggy and some other bunch of adjectives I can’t summon up now for the life of me because he’s that hot.
And I’m that fucked because of it.
Know why?
Because he’s my friend.
My friend, I tell you! Christ in a sidecar, I’m screwed and I need your help. He’s not like me and my kind either, but he is my friend. How could I have not noticed my friend before this? I certainly never noticed him in a carnal manner. I mean, I always thought he was cute, but hot? Hot? As in so hot I want to throw down with you? Never.
It just happened, all at once -- like the proverbial ton of bricks and now, everything is SNAFU, baby. Yep, Situation Normal, All Fucked Up. Yet another frickin’ problem in my already neatly compartmentalized problem department…
So, that’s why I’m here.
Cuz I got a mac daddy of dilemmas to beat all dilemmas.
It has to do with sex…
Yes, that’s what I said, s-e-x. Don’t look so shocked.
So I’ll tell you all about it and you can charge me the prerequisite two hundred greenbacks for me spilling my guts. Money is no object. I’m rich, well, I’m not rich, but my family is, so that makes me rich by proxy. Either way, it’ll be taken care of.
Will lying on your couch make me feel better? I’ll lie on the couch -- sit in the chair -- hold my breath and find my center -- visualize -- prioritize. I’m all yours -- do with me as you will.
I’ll do whatever I have to in an effort to find my happy place. Do you have that test -- you know the one with the ink blots on it? The one where I tell you I see a butterfly, but I’m so completely full of crap because all I really see at this point is him?
How about you give me an IQ test? I’m pretty smart, ya know.
So smart I’m here in your office trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to figure this out.
Some serious shit has gone down and when all is said and done, I might not be as rich as I am right now.
So maybe paying the bill could turn into a problem… but I really need help. I’ll charge it to my platinum Visa with the cute kitty emblem on it.
It’s everywhere you want to be. I’m just going to hope it won’t arrive at everywhere until next month when everywhere might be broke. So I won’t have to worry until then.
I don’t want to be here, per se, but I’m willing to give this a shot because I have to get
So I’ll sit on the nice couch -- you break out the nice pad and paper to take notes and we’ll get this show on the road.
Hang onto your degree because this is like Dr. Phil gone wild.
Like I said, I first really noticed him in that way when he came to the pet store I volunteer at three times a week…
Chapter One
“I’m so -- so…” Well, she didn’t know what she was. She’d been on a mission to find the scent that made her nose feel like it’d exploded off her face and she was so enamored with the “scent’s” ass she tripped on a stupid toy mouse and fell into him. As opposed to sauntering up to him like she was all va-va-voom or something.
That was how she’d planned it in her mind, anyway. She would follow the smell of this Utopia in a pair of faded jeans and saunter up to him like she was the Queen of Sheba.
Sometimes the road to hell and all that rigmarole…
So instead of sashaying like a supermodel on a runway, Nyla Jane Selim fell into yon hottie with not an ounce of sashay and a whole lot of Pee Wee Herman.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -- I think I tripped --” Her nose was overwhelmed with the masculine scent of him. It made her heart skip and do a running vault over the parallel bars.
Strong arms held her for the briefest of moments before helping her to regain her footing and a deep voice, raspy and reassuring, interrupted her apology. “Tripped on a mouse,” he finished her sentence. “Somebody needs to clean this place up.”
Ohhhhhh, oooh, oh. A shiver of delight rippled along Nyla’s spine and she arched into him, keeping her palms on his muscled forearms for a moment more. What a set of lungs… Nyla didn’t know if she should silently curse or thank Amos personally for not cleaning up the kitty condo aisle. “It’s been a bit crazy here and we’re understaffed,” she offered as she squinted, studying his face, angular and rugged.
Her eyebrows rose. No fucking way! Lucas? How could this be? Lucas never smelled like this before. Nyla struggled to find her glasses in the white coat she wore at the pet store. Slipping them on, she peered into her friend’s face as if she were seeing it for the first time, not the like hundredth in a year.
He held a studded collar in his hand, rhinestones and black leather. It twinkled under the bright fluorescent lights of the store. His thumb ran over the studs, giving Nyla another carnal thought that had absolutely nothing to do with a collar and everything to do with slappin’ this face jock down on the floor and slamming him one for Old Glory. Oh, my God! Had she really just thought that?
“I see that,” Lucas commented, his tone rather blasé as he looked over the top of her head and gave a scathing scan of the store overall. “You talk about this place all the time. I thought I’d come check it out. You definitely could use one or two of those plastic Tupperware bins,” he joked.
Nyla stuck her tongue out at him playfully. Okay, so it wasn’t the most efficiently run place, but it had its advantages and a great volunteer program for adopting a pet, which Nyla ran. “Lucas, what the hell are you doing here? You need help with something in particular?”
His smile was cocky and glib, and his dark green eyes hinted that Nyla, for all of her ineptitude, couldn’t possibly help him. “No. No. I don’t need help at all, Nyla. I just thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to catch a movie. You know that thing we do every Friday night? Me relegated to your fun date pile and all?”
At this particular nanosecond, despite the sharp stab of her nipples poking at her bra like a Dewalt drill bit, Nyla was tweaked. What the hell was going on? They’d been on two dates before she’d determined that they should just be friends. She and Lucas were so alike, ruining it with sex was something Nyla wasn’t willing to do. Lucas was the only person in the world who understood her right down to her Prada heels, and she wasn’t going to risk becoming his squeeze so he could dump her somewhere down the road. They were friends for life -- period.
And so now what? He was all of a sudden hot? She and Lucas had shared more than a dozen movies and he’d never smelled like this before. Fuck him for smelling better than tuna. Gathering her best disinterested attitude around her knees, Nyla gave him a narrowed glance before dismissing her moment of insanity and said, “Yeah, let’s do a movie.” While I’m at it, could I do you too?
Oh! Where had that come from?
“Nyla? You okay?” Lucas looked down at her from what seemed like way far up there all of a sudden… was he always this tall? Tall and luscious to boot?
“Yeah, I’m great. You?”
“I’m fine. So, the movie? Wanna go?”
Nyla’s nose twitched again. Oh, my hell, he smelled soooo good. Nyla involuntarily sniffed his shoulder. “Are you wearing new cologne?”
“That’s all me, baby. Nothing new,” he teased. “You were the one who didn’t want to sample it, remember?”
Oh, she remembered all right. As clearly as she now smelled him in a whole different way. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. We’re friends and I won’t risk having to dump your ass and take all of your toilet paper with me when I do, just so we can have sex. I can have that with anyone, but nobody does a good romantic comedy like you.”
Lucas brushed a kiss over her suddenly heated forehead. “I know, I know. I’m the sexless friend.” As he stood closer to her, Nyla fought the urge to lean into his hard frame and the bonfire that was him.
Lucas stiffened and backed away. “So, a movie? Popcorn, soda and your favorite ‘no sex this lifetime’ buddy -- friend.”
Nyla cleared her throat. Yeah, no sex. She’d said that a dozen times or so too… what had she been thinking? Nyla put a hand on Lucas’ chest. A chest that now, all of a sudden, out of the clear blue, felt… good.
With that, Nyla turned on her heel and stalked off toward the back room where she fully intended to cleanse her nostrils with sandpaper.
“Nyla?” Lucas called from behind her all smoky and brick shithouse like.
Nyla’s feet stopped mid pissed off stomp as she turned back to Buns of Steel with a precise pivot, slow and lingering. “What?” she countered, sucking in her cheeks and giving him a smart ass grin.
Lucas cocked his head to the side, angling his square jaw upward, and smiled.
Nyla clamped her mouth shut and thwarted the gawk she knew wanted to take over her face when she saw him smile. As her eyes traveled the length of him, she glanced at his chest and stomach. His T-shirt pressed against his abdomen, hugging every defined ripple. When did Lucas get abs?
Fo shizzle…
Crap, abs were her weakness…
“Can you smell me, Nyla?” Lucas’ voice sounded terse and laced with a shakiness she’d never heard before.
Nyla licked her now dry lips and cocked her head back at him. “I’ve always been able to smell you, Lucas. We’re shifters. Remember we met at the Shifters’ Single and Looking to Mingle? It’s what we do. Why do you ask?” She raised an eyebrow at him with disdain and crossed her arms over her nipples, pointed and tight. What the hell was going on?
Lucas took two swift strides of his sneaker clad feet with a silent, almost prowl and stood in front of her. Smiling down at Nyla, his grin screamed confidence and arrogance when he answered, “Because you can smell me and I can smell you, and it’s like nothing we’ve ever smelled before.”
Nyla gulped before raising her eyes to fully meet his deep green ones. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“And what do you smell?”
“Your desire.”
Desire this, baby. “Maybe what you smell is the cat litter box in the back. It needs to be cleaned.”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest, low, sinful, downright delish. “I smell your essence. That couldn’t be cat litter, could it?”
“It’s the multiple formula scoop away variety.”
“I smell you and you smell me. It has nothing to do with cat litter and everything to do with our lust. The fact that you’re a shifter means you know it too. You know what the lust means, Nyla.”
