Their Missing Lynx (Big Cat Mates) by Cynthia Sax

Chapter One
     
    Rue sat at the end of the bar, swirling her fruity drink with a bright yellow sword-shaped stir stick. She’d ordered a sangria and received… she frowned, tilting the glass to study it closer… she didn’t know. She shrugged. It had alcohol in it. That’s all she cared about.
    Tonight was a celebration. She’d finally closed the lumber deal, fending off the wolves -- the three fiercest negotiators at their rival company. The contract would make their sales target for the year. Her bosses would be proud of her.
    Her bosses. Rue moaned quietly, rubbing her thighs together. Simply thinking of them made her pussy moisten. Lorcan, a lynx shifter, and Ben, a bear shifter, were two of the sexiest males she’d ever met. When she’d given them her hand to shake during that first interview, she’d longed to give them a piece of her heart -- the lonely, hidden piece she kept concealed from everyone else.
    She lusted after them, dreamed about them. Every time she touched herself under the covers in the dark, she saw Lorcan’s silvery-brown hair and unblinking hazel brown cat eyes, Ben’s broad face and generous smile. Sometimes she fantasized about her bosses taking turns fucking her but more often, in her dreams, they took her together, filling her, using her for their own decadent pleasure. She wiggled on the barstool, the worn vinyl squeaking under her skirt-covered ass.
    The bartender, an older gray-haired gentleman, glanced toward her. Rue stilled, her face heating. His lips quirked upward as though he knew what she was thinking. He resumed polishing glasses and watching barrel racing on the big screen TV.
    Did he like barrel racing or was it the only acceptable option in this western-themed bar? Saddles straddled the rafters above them. Faded country album covers decorated the wood slat walls. The twang of a country song filled the beer-scented air. A woman berated her man’s cheating ways, her voice mournful.
    Rue didn’t hum along. Not only couldn’t she hold a tune to save her soul, but she also felt no sympathy for the country queen. She had bigger problems than an unfaithful man. The two males she lusted after were gay. Over the past seven months, she’d watched enviously as they touched and embraced and kissed, teasing each other with their coarse fingers and firm lips. She had wanted to slip between their hard bodies and intercept their kisses.
    Rue wiggled again, her pencil-line skirt hiking above her knees. She needed to get laid. A fast fuck with a stranger would take the edge off her lust, allowing her to concentrate on business.
    She glanced around, searching for a candidate, a willing male she could use and then lose. A man slumped over a table, face down in a puddle of spilled beer, his breath blowing bubbles in the liquid. Newspapers were stuffed in his long gray socks, and he appeared dirty as though he’d been living on the streets. Another man picked his front teeth with a folded piece of paper, his belly hanging over his belt. The sheen on his greasy forehead reflected the lights.
    The selection was poor. Rue sighed. She was desperate but not that desperate.
    Three big bodies filled the bar’s entrance, backlit so she couldn’t see their faces, and her hopes for a meaningless sexual encounter revived. They were tall and broad and muscular, their legs braced apart. From their mere silhouette, Rue knew they were men in their prime, well able to give her the anonymous fuck she required. If they were ugly, she could close her eyes. She’d done that in the past. She hooked the straps of her tote over her right shoulder, preparing to approach them.
    Her body, heart, and soul refused to move.
    These strangers weren’t Lorcan and Ben and touching them would be wrong. Rue’s arousal cooled, her heart sinking. She was in deep trouble, obsessed with two men she could never have.
    The three males swaggered into the bar, heading toward her. Rue recognized them, and her frustration turned