by J. D. Monroe
The mindless beauty of it consumed her. Instead of tension pulling inward, there was a fiery pressure that swelled and grew and exploded through her like the dragon bursting free. She cried out as she fell over the edge, freefalling into mind-numbing bliss. As he let out an echoing cry, the candles flared bright, the flames surging high for a split second. He grabbed her hips suddenly, driving up into her hard with a long groan.
She fell forward onto him, letting him fold his arms around her. His hips twitched, but she pressed herself tighter to him. “Just stay a minute,” she murmured. “I want you to touch me forever.” That strange, heated current lingered between them as she laid there, chest pressed tight to his.
He was quiet, kissing her forehead as he caught his breath. “That was incredible,” he said, his voice rough and deep. Her whole body was exhausted.
“Taegan? Do you know some kind of crazy sex magic? Is that a dragon thing you haven’t told me yet?”
He laughed. “No, although I’m flattered. Why do you ask?”
“I have the weirdest feeling,” she said. She lifted her head from his. “Touching your skin, it’s like electricity.”
“Oh,” he said. “When two dragons make physical contact, especially for sex, our elements tend to react. One time a girl struck me with lightning when she—” His jaw dropped. “I should not have said that.”
She chuckled and kissed him lightly. “I’m not offended. But I will be if I catch on fire.”
He grinned. “Not like that.” He touched her cheeks, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. Something flashed deep in his green eyes, like lightning through stained glass. The tingling, electric feeling intensified, and she gasped in surprise. The pressure intensified in her chest, like when she’d tried to summon the flames before. “Feel it?” She nodded. “That’s our energy mixing. The more you trust me, the more you feel it.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “It feels good.”
“Yeah, it does,” he said. “Funny enough, I probably could have gotten you to use your power the first time if we’d had sex.”
She laughed. “When you brought my shoes?”
“Mmhmm.”
“It’s probably good you didn’t suggest that,” she said.
“Wouldn’t have worked, huh?”
“No,” she said. “I would have left and never come back. I might have punched you for good measure.”
“Then I’m glad I was smart enough not to suggest it,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “New proposal. Wine. Bathtub…and—”
“And we go from there?”
“You are a brilliant woman, Chloe Madsen. That’s why I like you.”
A shrill alarm woke Chloe from a dead sleep. She jolted up and nearly screamed in surprise when a heavy arm pulled her back. Confusion evaporated into a pleasant memory as she realized she was curled up with Taegan. The alarm continued. He grumbled, vibrating into her back.
She recognized the high-pitched ring as her morning alarm. “Shit,” she murmured. “I’ll get it.” He murmured something into her neck and soon was breathing rhythmically again. With reluctance, she untangled herself from his warm embrace and slid out of bed. On the way, she helped herself to his shirt, hanging halfway off the end of his bed, and covered herself to find her phone. A giddy smile pulled at her lips as she inhaled his scent from the oversized shirt. Her legs were pleasantly shaky from their evening in bed.
The townhouse was dark and still, with only the quiet hum of the refrigerator downstairs to break the silence. She found her purse vibrating downstairs on the counter. After silencing the alarm, she unlocked her phone and turned off her backups. Standing in the quiet, dark kitchen, she let out a happy sigh. If she spent the rest of her break here, she’d call it a vacation well spent.
Maybe she was getting attached too fast. But Taegan made her feel like she belonged somewhere, both with his people and with him. Learning his favorite color and feelings about pineapple on pizza weren’t going to drastically affect that. And even if things didn’t work out long term, she certainly didn’t regret last night.
She tiptoed back upstairs. A dim blue light glowed from his office, where the computer monitor displayed a picture of a family. From the door, she couldn’t make out the picture. With a bit of guilty curiosity, she snuck in to look closer. His office was neat and sparsely furnished, like the rest of the house.
Posed against a brick wall, a dozen people wore all black with splashes of red. She recognized Izarin and Taegan’s mother in the middle, both flanked by distinguished looking men. Taegan stood next to one of the men, who bore a striking resemblance to him. This had to be his father. Next to Izarin were Malek and Tellana, though her hair was shorter and lighter.
A pang of longing struck her. Welcome to the family, they’d said. She tried to envision herself in a picture like that. In nearly three decades of life, she’d never had this kind of picture. Her family photos consisted of a few faded pictures of her mother holding her as a baby, then albums of her and Helen. Every year, she took pictures with her students and coworkers, cherishing them as the family pictures she lacked.
Would they really consider her one of their own, even as an outsider who lacked their history? And if they did, was she prepared to give up her solitary life for a huge community like that? Everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business, but Taegan was comfortable with it. Maybe there was security in it. No more holidays for one. No more morbid wondering who would find her if she died over a school holiday. No more doing it all alone.
A file folder lay on the glass-top desk next to the monitor. In the glow of the monitor, a sticky note caught her eye. It was a mere reflex, not snooping. She didn’t mean to read it, but as soon as she saw the first line, she couldn’t look away.
Sofia Drake
Helen Madsen
702-555-2364
Anger and dread swirled and bubbled in a caustic mix in her stomach. It was Taegan’s handwriting, the same as the note he’d left telling her to take ibuprofen and sleep off their flight. She knew she shouldn’t look but she had to.
Why did Taegan have her mothers’ names? She peeked out of the office and into his bedroom. He was still asleep, breathing evenly.
Her hand trembled as she opened the folder. The first page was a birth certificate from King County. Already knowing and dreading what she would find, she skimmed it.
Chloe Drake. Mother: Sofia Drake. Father: Deceased.
Horrified, she turned the page. Her high school transcripts. College transcripts. A copy of Helen’s obituary from the Seattle Times.
Fire blazed in her chest. The wild part of her that had purred with pleasure was overcome with rage. Her hands were hot, and she gaped down at them. Her fingernails glowed, like fire was ready to burst through.
Grabbing the file, she stormed across the loft. Somewhere, a small voice told her to calm down, it couldn’t be what it seemed, but she couldn’t think straight. He’d awakened the dragon, all right, and it was furious.
She turned on the light. “Taegan.”
He stirred and threw his arm over his eyes. “Hmm?”
“What the hell is this?” Chloe asked. She threw the file onto his bed with a thump.
He sat up, a dazed look on his face. Then he leaned over to inspect the file. The sleepy expression evaporated, his eyes widening. “Were you in my office?”
“Answer the question,” she said. “What is this?”
“It’s nothing. I was just trying to find out who you were,” he said. “Izarin asked me to find out about you.” He was so matter-of-fact about snooping through her life.
“So, you stalked my records? And dug up my mother’s name? And you think that’s nothing?” Chloe flexed her fingers. “Do you usually dig up birth certificates for your dates?”
“I was trying to help,” Taegan said. His eyes drifted to her hands.
Her senses were razor-sharp, and she could hear his heart accelerating. His pupils dilated. Was that fear or anger?
&nbs
p; “Help what? Make sure I could be a part of the dragon club?”
His eyes narrowed. That was anger. “Why were you going through my stuff?”
“Your stuff? This is my life,” she snapped. Fury and humiliation overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to cry or breathe fire at him. Maybe both.
He slid out of bed and grasped her shoulders. “Please talk to me.”
The hungry, lustful part of her hadn’t gotten the memo that he was a shit. His touch awakened her desire again, that strange energy prickling over her once more. She twisted away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
He backed away, his gaze sliding down to her hands again. She glanced down to see her hands wreathed in flame. “Okay,” he said. “But please calm down before you hurt yourself or burn down my house.”
With a growl of frustration, she squeezed her fists, trying to tame the fire, but it only made her madder. The heat singed her skin, though it felt good rather than painful. “I don’t know how.”
He put out his hands. “Let me help,” he said. His palms glowed. Reluctantly, she put her hands in his. He winced, but closed his hands around hers, pinning them together. “Let it go. Push it out of you.”
His body tensed as she pushed the flame outward. It felt like her insides had been scraped out when he released her hands. He released a heavy sigh. “Better?”
She avoided his gaze. “Yeah. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” he said. He tried to grasp her wrists but she pulled away. “Please let me explain.”
“No,” she said. “Maybe we can talk another time, but I really don’t want to hear from you right now.” He reached for her again, but she stepped back quickly and scooped up her underwear. Hurt pulled at his eyes, and she almost felt guilty. Maybe he was that dense and didn’t understand. And maybe he was just playing her for the fool he clearly thought she was. “I’m going home.”
“Then let me drive you.”
“No,” she said. She hastily pulled off his shirt and traded it for her dress, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she didn’t have on a bra. “Maybe this is okay in dragon world, but it’s not okay for me.” She headed for the door. His warm aura hit her before he could touch her, and she whirled on her heel to find him an arm’s length away. “Stay up here. I’ll get a ride home.”
His jaw dropped. “Chloe. Just sit and talk to me.”
“No,” she said flatly. “This was a mistake.”
Tears pricked at her eyes as she hurried down the stairs. She snatched her purse from the counter, letting herself out and sitting on his porch as she entered her info for an Uber. Inside, she heard his footsteps thundering down the stairs. The door opened with a quiet whine, but she didn’t turn around. His smell was still distant, not right on her. “Please don’t come out here and try to talk to me.”
“Fine,” he said. “Are you calling a car?”
“Yes. Go back inside.”
“No.”
She whirled to glare at him. He stood in the doorway. “Is it not enough to invade my privacy?”
“You’re being unreasonable,” he retorted. “It’s five in the morning. I’m not leaving you to sit alone in the dark, even if you’re pissed at me.” His feet slapped across the hardwood, and she glanced back to see him crouched in the doorway, shoulders slumped.
To his credit, he didn’t speak, though she felt his gaze on her. Her chest was heavy and tight as she considered turning around to demand an explanation. She couldn’t reconcile the two Taegans; there was charming, thoughtful Taegan who put her to bed with ibuprofen after he taught her to fly, and there was sneaky, creepy Taegan who looked up her email and had copies of her birth certificate.
You don’t know him, a cold part of her reminded her. He’d brought her into his life and told her about being a dragon, but she didn’t really know him. She may have learned a lot in the last few weeks, but she didn’t know Taegan Asharin. Maybe she should have ignored Maura’s advice and kept her heart in a cage, considering it made shitty decisions.
Her phone buzzed with a notification that her ride was pulling into the neighborhood. She composed herself and straightened her dress as she stood up, trying to reclaim her dignity.
“Chloe,” he said quietly. “Please stay. Let me fix it.”
As angry as she was, she wanted to stay. She wanted it turn back time to an hour ago, when everything was easy and warm, like basking in the summer sun. But she couldn’t trust herself, and she trusted him even less right now. Being close to him made it too hard to think straight.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said without turning around. “Have a good weekend.”
After checking that the woman in the driver’s seat matched the picture on the app, Chloe climbed into the back of the car. The driver’s eyes drifted to Taegan, who still stood on the porch, then back to Chloe. “You okay, sweetie? Something happen?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” she said. “Just ready to get home.”
“No worries,” she said. She turned up the music a little as she pulled away, humming quietly to herself.
Chloe didn’t want to look, but she stole a glance through the back window. There was no sign of Taegan. The dark, empty porch felt so final. She knew he’d screwed up. This was entirely on him.
So why did she feel like she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life?
A huge product launch kept Taegan in his office for nearly seventy hours in the week after he completely blew his chance with Chloe. His mother thought he was strange for working a normal job, especially when he could have lived off of family money. But his dad had worked as an architect, teaching Taegan there was still value in a good day’s work, even if he didn’t need the money.
Especially this week, he was happy to bury himself in work. Programming was often frustrating, especially when one bad line of code could crash an entire system. But with enough analysis, enough testing, he could always untangle the problem and fix it. Rewrite it, and everything would run smoothly. No feelings, just logical rules and ironclad logic.
Unfortunately, people weren’t so simple. He had tried to explain himself to Chloe, and she simply wouldn’t listen. There was a perfectly good reason for him to research her, which should have been explanation enough. But it wasn’t. After several painstakingly worded texts asking her to let him explain, she’d sent one last message on Tuesday that said, don’t text me again.
He could still picture her, glowing and perfect, smelling of wood smoke and cinnamon as fire burned in her veins. And he’d never see it again, would never feel her nestled into his body while she slept. As glorious as it was, he wished they hadn’t slept together. An hour of pleasure wasn’t worth the hollow ache in his chest. Tasting such sweetness only to have it torn away was infinitely worse than having never known it. And now he was just supposed to let her go? Move on like it didn’t happen?
Like hell he was. But three more days of fretting over it brought him no closer to an answer. He’d picked up his phone to call her at least a dozen times, planning to tell her she was going to listen to him whether she liked it or not. But he always stopped short of hitting Send. He could see her eyes, filled with hurt and anger as she tossed that stupid file at him. And every time, he chickened out.
Halfway through Friday morning, a text from Tellana interrupted the quiet music playing on his phone.
Tellana: I’m near your office with an hour to kill. Lunch?
He sighed. Though she always meant well, Tellana would want to discuss Chloe. He was about to reply with a “no thanks” when another text followed.
Tellana: If you say no I’m coming up there…your choice.
Despite his dark mood, he chuckled. He should have known the question was a mere formality.
Food truck? I can’t be gone long. Big project.
She responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis. After grabbing a light jacket, Taegan stretched and headed for the stairs. Three flights of stairs let him stretch his legs, and he stepped out
side into the damp chill of a December morning in Portland. Fine mist, not quite rain, pervaded the atmosphere. He pulled up his hood to keep his head dry, but his fiery nature kept him warm as he walked briskly down the sidewalk and around the corner to the Tiki Taco truck parked on Stark Street. Tellana was already there, perusing the menu from under a clear umbrella. Before he could greet her, she glanced over her shoulder. “Asora vel,” she greeted him in Kadirai.
“Aso,” he replied, lapsing into his first language. “The brisket tacos are fantastic.”
She nodded and looked up at the cashier. “Brisket tacos. Four please.” The man’s eyes widened as he inspected Tellana, probably trying to figure out how the slender woman was going to eat four huge tacos. “I’ll get his, too.”
“Two tacos,” Taegan said. His appetite was practically dead this week. “And a water.”
With food in hand, they sat on a nearby bench to eat. After unfolding a napkin to protect her expensive dress, Tellana took a messy bite of one of the tacos and groaned. “That is good,” she said, still speaking in Kadirai. He had just bitten into his own when she went for the throat. “You know I came to talk about Chloe, right?”
“I know,” he said around a mouthful of savory pork. “I appreciate you being honest about it.” He’d been trying not to tell Tellana, but when he showed up on Saturday to fly alone, she hadn’t let it go until he told her what had happened.
“I called her on Wednesday, but she didn’t answer,” Tellana said.
“Welcome to the club,” Taegan said. He sighed. “She shouldn’t have gone through my things.”
“Agreed,” Tellana said. “And you know I love you, serani, but you also shouldn’t have left it out where she could find it. That was sloppy. It’s not like you.”
“I didn’t even think about it,” he replied. “I got in a hurry to pick her up on Thanksgiving, but it’s not like I left it laying out on my bed. She went into my office and looked through it. I should be mad at her for snooping in my personal space.”
