by Qwillia Rain
“There’s no rhyme or reason for things, Mike.” She stroked the shower puff across his shoulders and down his spine. His body had no problem responding to her touch. In the weeks he’d been gone, being with Lyssa was at the top of things he’d missed.
He muttered, “I should never have recommended LaTreace.”
“Recommended her?” The drift of the sponge halted at his lower back. “I thought she was in Europe as a representative with that guy—”
“Nigel Hargreaves,” Mike supplied.
“Was that what you were talking about with that Trent person?” She moved closer and eased the cloth around to his stomach. He slid his hand over hers, halting the stroke of her hand as it neared the stiff cock rising between his legs.
“When did you hear—” Mike answered his own question as he recalled the night Trent had rung him. “You were awake?”
Her head moved up and down against his shoulder. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it?” Keeping hold of her hand, he eased the puff from her hold and tossed it toward a corner of the shower. Turning to face her, he stepped beneath the spray and rinsed the soap off before tugging her forward to remove the few bubbles that had transferred themselves from his back to her breasts. One-handed, he twisted the knobs, shutting off the flow of water, and then opened the shower door. “Why…”
“I thought if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me.” She blinked at the water that had splashed onto her face. “And part of me didn’t. Especially if calls from him would mean you’d be leaving.”
Stepping out of the shower, he pulled a towel from the rack and took his time carefully blotting the droplets of moisture from her skin. He allowed his hands to linger at her chin, neck, and breasts. When she tried to stop him, to use another towel on him, he shook his head. “No, I’m the master. It’s my job to care for you.” Lyssa held her breath as he crouched on one knee in front of her. “I can’t tell you about Trent. Or LaTreace.” He watched her face for reaction. “Not yet at least.”
The smile on her lips was understanding. “That’s okay. When the time comes, I’ll be here.” Her hands rose to cup his cheeks, and her gaze held his. “I trust you.”
He smoothed the soft cotton over her stomach and down her legs before letting it drop to the tiled floor. Mike cupped her hips in his hands, pulling her close, while his lips whispered across the colorful tattoo decorating her lower abdomen. “You’re okay? I didn’t mean to be away so long, but—”
“Barely three weeks, Mike. And you left two excellent babysitters.”
Mike grinned up at her. “I figured you could handle Ben and Vance hovering over you.”
Lyssa stuck her tongue out at him, then chided, “I’d rather have handled you.”
“I would have preferred that too.” He turned his lips into the soft well of her palm after she smoothed his wet hair.
“Hand me the towel,” she ordered, holding her hand out to him.
Eyes closed, lips intent on exploring the delicate, rounded flesh beneath her navel, Mike held the towel up to her.
“I was worried.” Mike rubbed his stubbled cheek against her pale skin.
“Baby’s fine,” she assured him as she carefully dried his hair and combed through the dark curls with her fingertips.
“And mama?”
“Mama’s fine too.” The towel settled around his shoulders, and she rubbed both hands over his head to the nape of his neck. “Are you ready to talk?”
He didn’t have to ask what about. Much as he wished to avoid reminders of what had driven him out of the house weeks ago, Mike rose and wrapped the towel around his waist. Lyssa led him out of the bathroom. From the back of the chair, he picked up her robe and held it while she slipped it on.
He didn’t dance around the subject. Instead he went directly to the heart of his pain, needing to know the answer before he could decide where the relationship with his woman stood. “When I came here four years ago and asked you if you were pregnant, why did you lie?”
She avoided looking at him. “I was afraid.”
“Of me?” He resisted the urge to touch her. Much as he craved the feel of her in his arms, the soft slide of her hair between his fingers, Mike knew they needed to clear the air before they could move forward.
Lyssa turned and looked up at him. She shook her head. “No, not of you.”
“Then who?”
“Me.” She took a seat on the bed, then patted the spot beside her. Mike sat. “I was afraid of what I’d become if I told you I was pregnant.”
His confusion must have been evident on his face. There was no need for him to voice the questions spinning around in his head.
“If you knew I was pregnant, you would have demanded we get married.”
“You’re right; I would have. And we are.”
“And it would have been wrong.” Her fingers covered his lips before he could protest. “It’s my fault my dad killed my mom.”
“No, Lyssa—”
“Yes. It is.” She cut him off and kept going. “I’m the reason they got married in the first place. If my mom hadn’t gotten pregnant with me, they would have broken up the first time he hit her.” Her fingers dropped from his lips to twist together in her lap. “There were so many fights, Mike. I always remembered the yelling and screaming. It didn’t take long for me to figure out what my dad meant when he said he blamed me for ruining his life. For destroying his chance for a college degree and the good life.”
“Lyssa, you know better than that.” Mike could hear how much she believed her words to be true.
She nodded. “A part of me recognizes that my parents made their choices and I’m not to blame. As a grown-up, I know it wasn’t really my fault, Mike. I know he could have walked away at any time. There was no reason for him to go to the extreme he did, but in the split second after you asked me four years ago if I was pregnant, it was all there again. All the anger and bitterness.” She lifted her hand as if she wanted to touch him, but pulled away before making contact. “You were just beginning to peak at your career four years ago, Mike. Marriage and a baby would have ended that.”
“So you lied to protect me?” Mike sighed and looked away from her.
“No, Mike, I lied to protect me. To save me from having to live with knowing how much of your life I ruined, how much you’d grow to resent me or possibly our baby because I couldn’t say no.” She actually gave a quiet little laugh. “I couldn’t have said no had you asked me to marry you, and I definitely couldn’t say no to you in the closet. I would have married you even though I was sure you’d been with another woman after you left me.”
“The phone call Tuma answered?”
“Yes.”
It was a lot to absorb, but he moved on to what bothered him most. “A baby—A secret like that isn’t one you keep from a man, Lys.” Mike waited as she adjusted the pillows beside her. “I should have heard it from you long before the visit to your doctor.”
“I was going to tell on our first date.”
“The one—” Anger at his own failure rolled through him, but Lyssa interrupted.
“Don’t blame yourself, Mike. I’ve had weeks to think it over. Years, really. If I’d had more faith in myself, I would have told you. Or left a message with Tuma for you to call me instead of simply hanging up.”
He watched Lyssa swallow heavily as if trying to keep the tears shimmering in her eyes at bay. She was right. Nothing could change the past or bring their baby back. “I called Ben to check on you. After he chewed me out for leaving, he told me everything that happened.”
“I was going to. So many times I would start to say something, then lose the nerve.”
He smoothed the pale hair from around her face. “It was my baby too. I had a right to know.”
“I-I know,” she stammered, her voice croaky with tears. “I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you I was pregnant. I mean, I didn’t think there was supposed to be any other meaning to the hours
we shared. Then when I finally worked up the nerve, was willing to face whatever you’d ask of me, it was over. There was nothing I could do.”
“I would have been there for you, Lys. I would have grieved right alongside you.” Mike gripped her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckles. It wasn’t anger that weighed him down. That was gone. What made it hard for him to breathe, to face her, was the disappointment he felt with himself. That at a time when she’d needed him most, he hadn’t been there. To him, that was unforgivable. “I love you. I’ve told you again and again I love you. And you wouldn’t believe me.”
“How could you be sure?” Lyssa responded, her uncertainty no longer keen. “How could I be sure that you wouldn’t decide one day that I wasn’t worth it?”
“Worth what?”
“Worth loving anymore.” Lyssa hugged her arms around her waist. “When I’m fifty, you’ll still be in your forties. You’ll still be young and healthy.”
“So will you, Lys.”
She shook her head. “No, Mike, I’ll be old. You take pictures of women every day. Young, beautiful women. How can I compete with that?”
“What’s to compete with? I love you. It hasn’t changed in four years. Hell, it hasn’t changed since the first day I met you. But you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you. And I love you very much.”
Bright blue eyes looked over at him. Need coupled with a wariness he’d dealt with before shimmered in her gaze, along with something else. A glimmer behind the tears sent his heart thumping in his chest.
“God, baby, don’t say it unless you mean it. Not now.”
In that moment, she realized the power he’d placed in her hands weeks ago when he had claimed her. “Forever, Mike.” Lyssa swallowed against the tears choking her. It grew harder to hold them back as the tension eased from his features. “Marry me, Mr. Halsey, and I’m yours.”
“Will you pose for me?”
Lyssa couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “You are a pervert.”
“Pose naked for me, and I’m your pervert alone.”
“Hmmm,” Lyssa hummed as his hands unwrapped her from her robe. It and the towel around his waist hit the carpet at the same time. “Sounds kinky.”
He settled her back on the bed and braced himself on his elbows. Her breasts brushed the light dusting of curls on his chest while his hips settled between her thighs. “I haven’t even begun, babe.”
“I’ll let you take all the pictures you like as long as you promise to come home any time you have to leave.” Lyssa could feel the heat fill her cheeks as moisture pooled between her thighs.
“I won’t have to go away very often, babe,” he vowed. Mike lowered his lips to hers. Between their bodies, he eased her hands from his hips and moved them so they rested above her head. One hand manacled her wrists, while the other drifted to the smooth mound at the apex of her thighs. “And I’ll certainly be back if you promise to have this waiting for me when I return.”
Lyssa moved against the fingers stroking the folds guarding her entrance. A mischievous grin lifted her lips. “Do you know what they call you at the Club?”
“No.”
She laughed at the disinterested look on his face. “I think it’s rather interesting.”
Mike rolled his eyes and captured her lips in a wet, heated kiss. Her mind went blank for the longest moment as their tongues tangled and danced inside her mouth and the thick, hot length of his cock rubbed against her hip. “Is it important?” he asked when he finally released her and eased his hold on her hands.
Lyssa shifted her arm so she could reach between their bodies and caress his erection. She traced the colorful barb and detailed scales decorating his skin with trembling fingertips. “I think so.”
Mike lowered his mouth to her breasts, tracing the thin blue lines that looked so prominent against her pale skin. Even her nipples had darkened in the time he’d been away. Lyssa was sure he noticed. The man had an eye for details.
“So tell me quick so I can get back to showing you how much I’ve missed being away.”
“Dragon.”
His head came up, and he gazed down at her. “What? We aren’t playing. You want me to stop?”
“No, don’t stop. At the Club, they call you the Dragon,” Lyssa informed him with a wicked grin and a wink.
Mike laughed. Between her legs, he eased her hand from his erection and shifted the broad tip to the moist entrance of her body. “You realize what that makes you?”
Lyssa arched upward, moaning at the slow glide of his body into hers. “No, my love, I don’t.” Vibrations rippled through Mike’s body at her words. Lyssa met his gaze, surprised at the gleam of moisture in the brown depths. “I love you, Mike. I’ll keep saying it until you get tired of hearing it,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his chest, holding him close to her.
Another shudder went through him. “God, woman, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”
She flexed internal muscles and lifted her legs to circle his hips. “So what does that make me, if you’re the Dragon?”
Mike waggled his eyebrows and smirked. “My lair.”
Lyssa chuckled. “Oh, and what brought you to that conclusion?”
“This is home.” His body retreated from hers, then returned in a firm thrust. “Every dragon needs his lair.” Mike dipped his head and nibbled at the exposed tendon on the side of her throat. “And you’re mine.”
Lyssa moaned at the flex and stroke of his body within hers. She shifted against him, enjoying the rub of his lightly furred chest over the increasingly sensitive tips of her breasts. “I’m sensing there’s more to this lair business than a warm, snug place for a dragon to rest his head.”
Mike snorted and choked at the sexy pun. “Oh yes, there is.” He rose over her, propped his weight on his elbows, and held her head between his hands. “We dragons take our lairs very seriously.” He moved deep, retreated, and then returned. “They have to fit us like a glove.” He slid inside, a hum of appreciation escaping his lips at the contraction of her inner muscles around him. “Just like you do.”
His gaze enthralled her, and the emotions she could see in his expression and hear in his voice moved her. She’d always known Mike had an artist’s talent, but she’d never suspected he had a poet’s soul. No words came to mind, so she simply waited for him to continue. The slow rise of climax created a mellow glow in her center. Now was not the time for fiery passion. That would come later.
Mike seemed of the same mind as his body stilled and he watched her. “They are our havens and sanctuaries where we store our greatest treasures.” One hand moved from her cheek to press against her belly, where their baby rested. “And we’ll fight to the death to protect them. Whether they like it or not.”
Tears welled in Lyssa’s eyes before slipping free. “I think I’m going to love being your lair, my dragon.”
“Not as much as I’ll love coming home to you for the rest of our lives, Lyssa.” His lips settled over hers.
She pulled back and grinned up at him. “Even when I’m old and gray and you’re still a kid?”
Mike wrapped his arms around her and rolled so she rested over him. “Especially then, love.”
“Why?”
“Because we dragons know that the older the lair, the more treasure there is to find inside.”
Lyssa laughed, rocking her hips over him. Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his and savored his homecoming. And maybe later they could play Catch the Dragon. Her bottom tingled at the thought.
Loose Id Titles by Qwillia Rain
A Neighbor’s Ultimatum
Meeting a Neighbor’s Needs
The DIABLO BLANCO CLUB Series
Santa’s Elf
Unfair Advantage
Under Control
Rite of First Claim
Qwillia Rain
Qwillia Rain grew up loving books. From an early age she was creating stories to go with the pictures. By high school she
was penning romances for her friends and shocking them with the graphic nature of the love scenes. After leaving her home in Las Vegas, Nevada for Anchorage, Alaska, Qwillia discovered there were other authors who enjoyed throwing open the bedroom doors and exploring the darker side of human nature. She left Alaska for Billings, Montana, but the travel bug struck again. Currently, Qwillia resides in Raleigh, North Carolina, drawing inspiration from the history, scenery, and rich diversity of the South.
