Dragon Desire (Tooth & Claw Book 1)

by Emilia Hartley

  “I’m not a good cook. I’m trying to learn, but I have a bad habit of burning everything.”

  “The frozen pizza sounds great,” she said, thinking it would be hard to burn.

  He yanked a cardboard box from the freezer and preheated the oven before turning toward her with a serious expression. When he leaned against the marble countertop and looked her in the eye, she wasn’t sure if she should lean back or forward. A gravitational pull tugged her into him, but she held firm and stayed where she was.

  “I’ll be honest for a minute,” he said. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I’m not in the market for a mate or a wife. My life is fine just the way it is. No woman deserves to be stuck with me.”

  Stuck with me.

  The way his voice fell, the degradation she heard in it, had been aimed at himself like a blunt knife. Devin hated himself. She realized he never meant to direct his malice outward. He had it turned on himself. Her heart clenched.

  “I’m not a good man, Ms. Applegate. I’ll send away any woman your article brings to my doorstep because I don’t want anyone getting tangled with me. Destroying things is second nature to me. Everything I’ve touched has fallen apart. I’m like Midas, but with rot instead of gold. Do you understand me?”

  She stiffened. Devin had touched her, and she hadn’t fallen apart. Her life remained much the same, only with a longing for the night she could never get back. It wasn’t so bad. The memory kept her warm on lonely nights. In many ways, she was thankful for it.

  Before she could say anything, the oven beeped. Devin dropped the frozen pizza onto a hot stone already waiting inside the oven and closed the door.

  “You would subject yourself to a life of loneliness to avoid having to put work into a relationship? Is that what you’re saying?” Moira knew she pushed his boundaries, but no good work had ever been done in a place of comfort.

  Her pulse hitched when Devin stepped closer. He glared down at her, a bit of that fire smoldering in his dark eyes. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, as if that might jog his memory. She didn’t reach for him, didn’t touch him in any way.

  “You don’t understand what I am,” he growled. His heat licked her skin. “I’m not like any other Chad out there. When I fuck up, bad things happen.”

  “It sounds to me like you don’t want to take responsibility,” she challenged.

  Moira should have asked for a restroom and excused herself. It would have given her a chance to explore Devin’s manor. Maybe then she could have found some clues about why the family was so reclusive. She knew it had something to do with the shadow she’d seen earlier, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away from Devin.

  His gaze dropped, flowing down her neck and into the V of her blouse. His lip twitched.

  “What happens,” Moira began, “when you find a woman worth keeping? Are you going to let her go and allow your life to rot? Are you going to give up all chance at a bit of happiness?”

  Before she knew it, Devin plucked her from the floor and set her onto the counter. His lips crashed into hers. One hand cupped the back of her head and held her in place while the other found the neck of her blouse. With one tug, Devin revealed her strappy bra. He broke the kiss, his chest heaving, and gazed adoringly at her breasts.

  Moira wasn’t sure if Devin had gotten better at kissing since their last kiss, or if her memories had tarnished. Either way, her heart raced. Fire consumed her skin where he touched her. Her head fell back as he lowered his mouth to her breast. His tongue found her nipple and brought a groan from her.

  When he looked up at her, his eyes were no longer dark, but glowing bright. His pupils had narrowed into slits. Moira didn’t know if she imagined it, but she didn’t have long to think about his strange eyes because they drifted closed while he rubbed her nipple between his fingers.

  She wanted to be touched like this every day. She would lay herself out on this counter every morning. He said he didn’t want a lover, but he licked her like a man starved. He found her lips again, one arm snaking around her back to pull her close to him. She knew they fit together. No man had ever filled her the same way.

  Clinging to his thin t-shirt, she held him in place. Could she write about this in her article? About how Devin made her feel like a goddess as he worshiped her body? She drank him until she was drunk on him. Her head spun. She gripped the back of his neck to steady herself.

  Only when the oven spilled over with smoke did they pull apart. A fire alarm screeched in annoyance. Devin jumped into action while Moira sat, stunned, on the counter. He threw open the nearby windows before slowly tugging the oven door. More smoke spilled out.

  The cold air from the open windows touched Moira’s bare breasts and snapped her back to herself. She realized pretty quickly that she sat on the counter like a snack, her breasts still hanging out. She quickly covered them and tugged the neck of her blouse higher.

  “If you thought I wouldn’t be able to burn a pizza,” Devin said, “then you were wrong.”

  She caught a glimpse of the charred pizza right before he dumped it into the trash. Confused, she looked back to the oven. They hadn’t been making out that long. There was no way fifteen minutes had escaped them, but the temperature on the oven was set much higher than it should have been.

  Chapter Three

  Devin hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d told her he wouldn’t be tricked by her enticing chest, but he’d lost himself in her all the same. Moira had a spark inside her that sent his own flames raging. She was gasoline on his fire.

  He hungered for more, but he needed to focus on feeding her. He snarled at the oven and didn’t admit to Moira that he’d set the oven temperature too high. Instead, he pulled out a frying pan and grabbed a package of bologna.

  Her boots slapped the floor when she slid off the counter. He didn’t turn around, even though his beast wanted him to grab her and hold her close. The creature tried to lay claim to her, even though Devin had made a grand speech about how things rotted under his touch.

  He half expected Moira to run to the door or fall to the ground. There had to be a price to pay for what he’d done. It would come along and slap him for daring to want. He wasn’t allowed to want anymore.

  “Well, I’m grateful I didn’t have the recording device set up,” Moira mumbled like she didn’t expect him to hear her.

  He huffed a laugh. The taste of her lingered in his mouth. It sparked a familiarity he couldn’t place. When he finished her sandwich, he found her toying with a small black device, her hands shaking. He set her sandwich in front of her and plucked the device from her grasp.

  “Eat,” he commanded.

  She made a sound in her throat. “I, um, need to find a bathroom.”

  “Back in the living room, under the stairs,” he said as he started preparing another sandwich.

  Her footsteps pattered away from him. He knew she would run, but hearing her scamper made him heavy with sorrow. Nothing good would ever stay. He shouldn’t have touched her. His mission had been to keep the reporter from coming back. He’d wanted her to consider him abominable, so she wouldn’t even want to post the article.

  Instead, he clenched his hands around the memory of her breast pressed into his hand.

  Just as he finished making the second sandwich, the front door flew open. A screech declared Crystal’s presence. His niece skidded into the kitchen, and Devin appreciated that the burnt pizza had stopped him and Moira from going any further. Frankie would have lost her mind if Crystal interrupted the two adults.

  “Sorry to drop in like this!” Atticus said as he scooped his daughter into his arms.

  Crystal, now tall enough to reach over the counter, snatched half of the fried bologna sandwich he’d set out for Moira and bit into it.

  Devin leaned close to her face. “Did you ask to take that?”

  She paused. For a moment, her lips twitched like she might try to smile and giggle her way out of trouble, b
ut she seemed to realize it wouldn’t work. Crystal slowly lowered the sandwich to the plate.

  “You owe me for the bite you took out of my sandwich,” Devin informed the six-year-old.

  Atticus served his cousin with a glare, but Frankie marched in behind him and snorted.

  “That’s what she gets,” Frankie said, then stole the sandwich.

  Devin growled. “I see where she gets her manners from. You only get a pass because I know you’re pregnant. I’m going to make Moira another sandwich and if anyone touches it, I will remove their hands.”

  Frankie and Atticus gaped at him. Crystal slithered from her father’s grasp and hit the floor.

  “No hands!” she howled as she bolted from the room.

  “I don’t know what surprises me more,” Frankie said. “The fact that you knew I was pregnant again or that you’re on a first name basis with the reporter. I thought you were determined to chase her away.”

  Devin stiffened. “I never said that.”

  Atticus rolled his eyes. “You chase everyone away. It can only be assumed that you would frighten the human away, too.”

  Devin hushed his cousin. “She’s still here. No talk of shifters or dragons.”

  Moira was not a part of his world. He’d never needed a better reminder. Fragile and weak, she wouldn’t survive Devin. He could lust after her all he wanted, but she would suffer if he claimed her. She wasn’t meant to be a part of his world. No human should have to deal with dragon men.

  Especially not Devin.

  But when she appeared behind Atticus and Frankie, surprise written across her face, his heart threatened to stop. Her lips were a deep shade of red, not from any makeup, but from their kiss. A pink tinge still brightened her cheeks. They darkened when Atticus and Frankie turned toward her.

  “I can see myself out if this interview is over,” Moira said.

  “Hell no,” Frankie said.

  Crystal wove between her parents’ legs, a new curse word already falling from her lips. Atticus gave his wife a sharp look. Frankie sighed and deflated.

  Atticus jerked his head. “Don’t leave on our account. You’re welcome to stay. You might even get a glimpse of the real Devin.”

  Devin narrowed his eyes at his cousin. He didn’t know what that meant. Devin wasn’t the kind of man with many facets. All he had was himself and the beast. Atticus should have known that, but perhaps they weren’t cut out of the same cloth after all.

  Moira flashed a tight smile. Devin caught the wink Frankie flashed the reporter. His sister-in-law, for that was how they referred to each other, was not subtle. Not in the least. Devin had suspected Frankie might be behind the newspaper’s decision to interview him, but now he wondered if Frankie wanted to hook him up with the reporter.

  That might have been Devin’s own thoughts, echoing off the walls of his skull. As Moira stepped closer, he could feel her. She tugged at him like a force of gravity. He dug in his heels and fought against her pull. He suspected he might be freed of her if he slept with her, but there was no guarantee, and he didn’t want to see her get hurt.

  He could not control the feelings of others. If she ripped out her heart to give to him and he didn’t want it, then she would suffer. He didn’t want to make anyone hurt any more. His past had been filled with pain and malice. Those days were over, so he kept his distance from the reporter.

  ***

  Moira hadn’t been able to find much during her trip to the bathroom. She’d wanted to snoop around, but Devin didn’t have anything lying around that would fuel a better article than the dating profile. She found a stack of clothes left by the door that led into the backyard, but men often left their clothing in piles around the house. Moira had a father and two brothers who would do the same.

  While she peered out the door to the backyard, she noticed scratches in the door frame. When she’d touched them, she’d realized they aligned with fingers, but no fingernails could cut so deep. Her heart had raced as she’d stared at the gouges.

  Unable to process them completely, Moira had hidden in the bathroom where she could clean her smeared makeup. In the process, she’d found a small hickey on her breast. Her core had warmed and begged for more as it throbbed.

  She’d heard the front door slam open and quickly lurched to lock the bathroom door so she could hide while she brought her body back under control. When she finally stepped out, she’d thought she would be able to face Devin again. She was a fool for thinking so because the moment she saw him, her core grew warm again. She couldn’t even look at the counter without thinking about what they’d done and how she wanted more.

  Moira didn’t want to be a slave to her own desires. She’d come here to discover a bigger story. While Devin’s cock might be bigger, it wasn’t the kind of story she wanted to write about.

  The reclusive Atticus VanTassel had glanced over his shoulder at her, pinning her with a knowing gaze like he could smell what they’d done. Still, he’d invited her inside. Devin snatched a plate from the counter and pushed it into her hands.

  “Why does it smell like fire in here?” Francine asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice. She narrowed her eyes at Devin.

  He scratched the back of his head in response. “I might have burnt a frozen pizza. Look, I told all of you that I can’t cook. I don’t know what you expected.”

  Frankie gagged. A little girl with hair as white as Atticus’s flew into the room. She wrapped her arms around Devin’s legs and screeched.

  “Burn! Burn! Burn!”

  Francine stepped forward to claim her child, but Devin bent and picked the girl up. He cradled her in his arms like she was his own, even though it was clear she belonged to Atticus. The little girl was a spot of light against Devin’s darkness. She illuminated the shadows under his eyes and brought a smile to his lips.

  In that moment, Moira understood what Atticus meant when he said she might see a glimpse of the real Devin. He swirled the little girl around until she was a mess of giggles. When he stopped spinning, he swayed on his feet. The little girl slapped her hands onto either side of his face and forced him to look at her.

  “When are you going to give me an auntie?”

  “Crystal,” Francine hissed.

  “But Mom! Uncle Devo is lonely. I can’t stay here all the time!” Crystal wrapped her arms around Devin’s neck in what looked like a choking kind of hug.

  “So, now you can say more than one word?” Atticus pinned his daughter with a knowing look.

  Crystal’s smile turned feral. She pressed her cheek to Devin’s. The sight warmed Moira’s heart and she couldn’t help but smile. If she had been more committed to writing the dating profile, Moira would have made sure to include this moment. Devin might have tried to hide behind a mask of aggression, projecting the impression he was a lone wolf kind of man, but Devin had a soft interior.

  The family seemed nice. If anything, they seemed normal. Moira caught the few times they would start talking about something and someone’s gaze would slip to her right as the room went quiet, but that was the only strange behavior she encountered as she nibbled her sandwich.

  When Devin set Crystal on the floor again, the little girl bounced toward Moira and stared up at her with wide eyes. “Are you going to be my auntie? I think you and Uncle Devo would be so happy!”

  Moira nearly choked on her sandwich. She set the plate down, so suddenly that it rang out and the room went quiet. All eyes turned to Moira, their gaze making her heart fumble. She lurched to her feet, muttered an excuse, and ran for the door.

  Crystal didn’t follow her. Moira almost made a clean getaway, but Devin caught up to her at the door. She apologized, repeating her excuse as she struggled into her coat. Devin pulled the coat from her hands and helped her into it. He said nothing until they stepped outside.

  “I’m sorry about Crystal,” he said. “She can be…intense.”

  Moira wanted to find the VanTassels’ secret and expose it in the local newspaper. Guil
t unfurled inside her and made her tongue thick.

  “About earlier, I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. It was a mistake. I never should have touched you like that,” Devin said.

  His words slapped her in the face and shoved the guilt back. She blinked at him. To him, she was just a mistake. He hadn’t meant to make her feel any of the confusing emotions filling her chest. She wanted to breathe them out and be free of them, but they refused to budge. She was stuck with them for now.

  “Next time you need to chase a woman away, just tell her she’s a mistake.” Moira stomped to her car.

  Devin didn’t call out to her. He didn’t stop her. She did her best to keep from looking at him as she put the car in reverse and turned around. Her throat tightened. She thought she might cry, but determination kept tears from touching her cheeks.

  Moira had forgotten her mission for a short while. She’d been sucked into the easy comfort of the VanTassel family’s presence. Moira raced back to the office and told herself that she would write the dating profile and search for a big story somewhere else. If she stuck around Devin, she wasn’t sure she could protect herself.

  Not her life, but her heart. Crystal’s words had been just what Moira needed to shake sense back into her. Maybe the VanTassel family had a secret that would make a killer story, but Moira couldn’t dig too deep into it. She would never be able to find her way out again.

  This was the last time she would see Devin VanTassel.

  Chapter Four

  Moira tugged a sweater over her head to cover the ridiculously low V of her blouse before heading back into work. As soon as she sat down, other reporters began flocking to her desk. A young woman pulled a chair up and asked her how the interview had gone. A man hovered nearby.

  “Well,” Moira began, unable to put the interview into words even though that was her job. She could still feel his lips on her nipples, and the memory made her cheeks warm. “I think it went alright.”