by Kiki Howell
“It will continue to happen until we are released from each other by Brooks or we complete the bond.” He picked up her suitcase, avoiding further eye contact. “Ready?”
Dovie smoothed out her skirt, not understanding how he could be so nonchalant about what was happening, and picked up the box of books. Did he experience nothing from their touch? The idea that he wasn’t attracted to her hurt just a little, but she pushed the pang away. She barely knew this dragon. If he wasn’t going to talk about her reactions to him, then she would do her best to ignore them too. As if nothing had happened. Right.
“After you.” She pointed to the door and then locked up after they passed through the doorframe. This would be a freaking long eighteen days. At least she wouldn’t be spending direct time around him. He’d be off doing dragon things and she’d be not too far away, reading or something. She’d consider it a vacation and take advantage of the time off. Some relaxation would do her good.
As she slid back into the truck, she looked over at Torren. Her body responded instantly at the sun cascading over his unshaven face. Heat pooled between her legs and she crossed them, hoping dragons didn’t have a strong sense of smell. The last thing she wanted to do was advertise her body’s reaction. Torren glanced at her as he pushed the gear shift into drive, his eyes slits, and then he looked away.
Chapter Seven
TORREN CLENCHED HIS jaw as they drove back to his place. Her second spontaneous orgasm had nearly done him in. He’d had to force himself to let go, reminding himself over and over he wanted to train with the Ancients. He’d almost thought his dragon wouldn’t allow it, until his fingers finally moved off her skin one by one. He could still smell her light feminine musk and he couldn’t keep his cock from springing to attention. He needed to avoid touching her at all costs or he would become just as addicted as she would. Each time she orgasmed brought his dragon closer to the surface, wanting to complete the bond. Within the next three days his body would start to transform, and the desire to have her would increase. Instead of giving in, Torren planned to lose himself in his credence, practicing until he had his illusion right. If he focused hard enough, she would no longer be a temptation. He could tune her out.
“Could you maybe tell me more about your clan and how things work? Do all dragons live in houses like humans? What happens when you shift? How often do you—”
“Take a shower when you get inside,” he interrupted as they pulled into his driveway. She had far too many questions and all he could was smell her desire, which wasn’t making it easy for him to concentrate. It was like he was supersensitive to this female. The magic attaching them had to be what was drawing him to her.
“Excuse me?”
He didn’t look at her, just opened the truck door and jumped out.
“Seriously, if you are just going to be mean to me the entire time we have to be around each other, tell me now so I can stop bothering to engage with you in any way. I don’t need your shit, dragon.” The passenger door slammed shut.
He couldn’t tell her that her scent was driving him crazy. That if he watched her swaying hips, he didn’t know if he could control himself. The more she thought he didn’t want her, the easier it would be to detach from her. “You smell.” Torren didn’t wait for a response he was sure would be unpleasant. She could carry her own stuff in. He walked inside and headed straight for his meditation room at the back of the house, where he had every intention of locking her out both physically and mentally as he focused on his credence. Damn the stars, why did she have to be so attractive?
THE MEDITATION ROOM was cool. A hint of mint and earth filled Torren’s nose, instantly easing the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t need to focus on anything but what was in this room. Warm sunlight hit his skin as he removed his shirt, switched into a pair of loose shorts, and kneeled by the window to check his plants. He had a small garden of various herbs. Potting soil, wood chips, and the like were piled nearby because his clan relied on not only their natural dragon magic but the earth’s energy as well. His magic often used more herbs than earth, but not all Therons used the same materials. Figuring out which ones worked best for him had been a trick when he’d first started using magic beyond his natural dragon abilities.
Torren watered the plants, grateful he had left the book artifact inside the room last night. He heard the shower turn on and his mind flitted to Dovie. An image of water hitting her soft skin made his erection harder. Torren shook the image from his head and grabbed the book off the stand by the door. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the room and looked at the book. Touching the artifact no longer made his scales move from under his skin, but energy still buzzed from it. He tried to open the cover, but the book didn’t move. Being a seasoned challenger in the draconic arena, he knew he’d need something to help him draw out the artifact’s power, some earth-related item. His room was set up with every tool he knew how to use. Everything except the credence tacked to his wall. Torren gave the rolled-out scroll a glance, a visible reminder of why he needed to accomplish this challenge: to get his final piece for the credence. He didn’t have to look at the picture of his parents tacked below to remember why he shouldn’t have a family.
The illusion he needed to perform would have to be grand enough to capture the Ancients’ attention, but not as over the top as some of his fellow challengers would attempt. While Torren wanted to win, he didn’t want the leadership role that came with winning the entire tournament. Each year a new leader of all the clans would be picked from the competitors in the challenge, but that was not what he wanted. He was happy to get his materials and learn a new credence instead.
Torren turned the book over and over, examining the etched leaf design. The leaf seemed to be the only available clue. But the design didn’t follow the pattern of a specific leaf. Instead, it shifted continually before his eyes. Maybe all he needed was a leaf to open it? He set the book down, picked several leaves from his plant collection just in case, and then returned to his cross-legged position on the floor. Torren moved a mint leaf onto the book.
Nothing happened.
Perhaps he needed to meditate while the leaf rested on it?
He stacked the book and the leaf in his lap, then set his hands, palms up, on his knees. Taking several slow, deep breaths, he called to the magic inside him. He closed his eyes as his scales slid beneath his skin. The feeling so familiar he almost missed the buzzing of the magic until he focused on the action. The hairs on his arms stood on end and he chanted in low syllables, not words exactly, more like humming. Long, short, and long again until the dragon magic pulsed awake inside him. Torren opened his eyes and glanced down at the book.
It still hadn’t opened.
There was only one other option left that he could think of. He put his right palm on top of the leaf, pressing it into the book, and pushed that pulsing energy down his arm and through his palm, spearing it into the leaf and book. The designs on the artifact shifted and the leaf was absorbed into the cover.
It still didn’t open.
He grabbed another leaf and repeated the process over and over again with three more leaves. The damn thing still wouldn’t open. The sun had moved past the midpoint in the sky and his stomach growled but he refused to address the need. He had to figure out how it opened.
The rest of the leaves lay beside him. Torren grabbed all of them, then set them on the book. He hummed his chant, channeling the energy right through the leaves and book with both hands. The designs grew bright, and with a flash, the artifact opened to him. He grinned as the pages flipped before his eyes. Now that he had it exposed, he could figure out how to use it to create his illusion for the challenge. Butterflies flitted in his stomach, as they always did when he accomplished a magical task, and he resisted the urge to laugh. He enjoyed doing magic, it was a rush he couldn't get from anything else.
A knock at the door spun him out of his moment and the room came back to him. Reality crushed him hard at the sound o
f Dovie’s voice.
“Torren, I made lunch. Well, since it’s kind of between lunch and dinner, I made lundin.”
The low notes in her feminine voice, followed by the playful way she said “lundin,” caused him to smile. He wanted to like her. Wanted to be near her. And that would ruin everything.
Chapter Eight
DOVIE HAD MADE him something to eat out of pity or a restless need to be near him, she wasn’t exactly sure which. Well, that and she was starving, since he’d spent the day in his room, not really bothering to tell her anything about food. She’d rummaged around in the kitchen and come up with a couple sandwiches. Noms to the cheese. Dovie licked her lips, waiting for the dragon to open the door. She heard a rustling, and then the door swung open to reveal Torren half naked.
Dovie dropped the plate.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” She bent down, pulling her gaze away from his smooth abs, to pick up the disheveled food. Her heart nearly jumped into her mouth. She grabbed all the food in one giant messy double handful and looked up at Torren. He stared down at her with half-lidded eyes. His jaw clenched and his hands were balled in the pockets of his shorts. The look said he was turned on, but then his body seemed so tense that it couldn’t be anything but anger. Despite it, she still felt a pull to him. A part of her wished he would help her clean it up. Maybe they could have a moment over ruined lundin. He didn’t budge as she stood. “I’ll just clean this up and make us some more.” Her cheeks flamed as she turned, rushing back to the kitchen.
Dovie flung the mess into the trash and rinsed her hands in his stainless steel sink. She slammed the food around on the counter, remaking the meal. Why did he have to be cruel? First the comment about how she smelled, then he hadn’t bothered to even ask if she needed help after she dropped their food. She was lost in her anger when his hand grabbed the butter knife from beside her. She stilled, not wanting to look at him but suddenly very aware of his presence. He hadn’t touched her, but her body responded to the heat coming off him with his presence so close to her. Part of her wished she had never touched the shifter in her bookstore; then she would be perfectly happy at the store or at home without wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.
“Let me help,” his voice growled into her ear. She could have sworn she’d felt his words stirring the air. They slid over her skin like a caress causing heat to pool between her thighs.
“Uh. Sure.” She stepped to the right to allow him room at the island counter. Dovie squeezed her thighs together and the fabric of her jeans rubbed between her legs. She bit her lip, trying to curb the zing of pleasure. All she had to do was simply touch him and she would have an unbelievable release, but she resisted as she spread mayo over both slices of bread, added two slices of cheese, some ham, and a pickle. When she finally put the slices together, she snuck a glance at Torren.
Her heart skipped a beat and her mouth went dry as his muscles flexed while sliding the butter knife over his slices. She barely noticed what he put on his sandwich as she shoveled food into her mouth to keep her damn treacherous hands busy with something other than touching his naked chest or running fingertips down his shoulders. Dovie groaned and swallowed a healthy bite. Truth was she didn’t know if she naturally wanted him or if his orgasmic touch was ruling her desire. Did every human feel like this when they were with a dragon? Why wouldn’t more women want to have orgasms so intense it knocked them off their feet? The sex had to be mind-blowing. He was an ass, but she bet he knew his way around a woman.
“You’re staring.” Torren bit into his food.
Dovie swallowed. “You’re half naked.”
“My house,” he said around a full mouth. She should have found that super unattractive, but it didn’t matter when all she saw was strong abs, a hard chest, and broad shoulders. It didn’t matter what his mouth was doing as long as she could look her fill.
“If you walk around like that, expect me to stare.” Dovie tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal to be rooming with a sexy dragon who caused spontaneous orgasms. She gobbled up the last of her sandwich and water. “What’s there to do around here besides you?” She looked right into those champagne eyes. This would be a long eighteen days. She’d need to find a way to amuse herself and tormenting Torren sounded like a grand idea. She smiled sweetly at him, waiting for his response.
“I have television.” He licked his fingers and Dovie’s mouth went dry. She pictured him sucking her nipples into his puckered mouth and they pebbled at the thought.
“Boring, try again.” Her words came out a little more breathless than she’d intended.
He rinsed his hands in the sink, turning a muscular back to her. “Music?”
How would she keep her hands off him if he walked around nearly naked every day? “I like music but that doesn’t really help me entertain myself for hours on end while you practice. I can think of much better things we could do with our time.” And while she wanted to work on her books, her brain wasn’t there yet.
Torren stilled at the sink. Taking advantage of catching him off guard, Dovie walked up behind him, careful not to touch his skin. She slid her hand along the side of his shorts, rounding to cup his balls. Her mouth watered when his cock sprang up to greet her, confirming his desire.
Torren leaned into her hand and growled. “And what do you think you’re doing?” His question sounded forced and Dovie smiled, proud she finally found a reaction.
“Entertaining myself.” She slid her other hand around to lightly caress his hard-on. It strained against the material. She slowly slid her fingers around the tip, pulling and pushing ever so lightly, careful not to touch his skin. He was wide enough she had to be mere inches away to put her arms around his waist. Heat radiated off his flesh and she pulsed between her legs. Teasing herself, she moved her body a tiny bit closer. If he moved even slightly his skin would graze hers and she could orgasm. She wanted to. Not desperately, but Torren’s deep breathing made it harder not to want more from this small encounter. His earthy musk wafted to her nose and she inhaled it as if it were the best thing in the world, and right then, it could be. He smelled wonderful. “I wish I could take you in my mouth, dragon. I bet you taste as good as you smell.”
Chapter Nine
TORREN CLENCHED HIS jaw. The female was finding ways to get under his skin and it had only been a day. Her hands barely grazed across his shaft. The light tugs urged him to do more than stand at the sink. But he refrained from doing anything other than clenching his fingers around the sink counter, mostly to keep from touching her. His cock throbbed and his internal dragon rippled beneath his skin. He needed to stop her infernal advances before the situation exceeded his control. There was too much at stake for him. Despite how much his body reacted to her, he had to keep mind over matter for this to work. He could ask her to stop. . . or touch her. Then she’d have to stop while she spun out of control in another orgasm. His dragon form warmed at the thought, but he couldn’t give in. Not when it would spiral them both out of control. He needed to stand his ground.
“Time to let go, Duv.” His voice came out husky. Her hands stopped.
“You clearly want me. Why not just have a little fun?” Her hands moved away and Torren’s shoulders relaxed. Cool air replaced the heat from her body so close.
“We aren’t going to work that way. There’s too much at stake, and while my body may respond to you, I assure you, you’re not my type.” Okay, that might have been a lie. He didn’t technically have a type so much as just the need to fuck when the moon began its journey toward the new moon. Otherwise, his credence was his life. He willed his body to calm down, taking a deep breath and finally turning back toward Dovie. Her eyebrows had bunched together and hurt filled her eyes. Her lips thinned.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to get to know me before you shoot me down, put me down, and the like. Since we got stuck with each other, you’ve been nothing but a royal ass. So sorry, Your Highness, to have admired your body. Beg your fo
rgiveness, my lord, that I thought we could find enjoyment in each other. Go back and play in your room, moon dragon.” Her eyes hardened and she crossed her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts.
“I don’t need to get to know you. I can clearly see what kind of person you are.” He walked around the island, ready to get back to work. The last thing he needed was to sit and listen to her. He wouldn’t be able to control the desire to kiss that damn hard line right off her lips. Anger, he needed anger to control the pull between them.
“And what kind of person am I?” The words hissed from her mouth.
“Needy,” he said and walked back to his meditation room, slamming the door.
Things banged around outside the door, but he didn’t care to find out what she’d been tossing about. He paced around his room. How would he survive eighteen more days with the female? It hadn’t even been two full days and they couldn’t stand each other. He’d spend most of his time working on his credence so he could avoid her. The hurt look in her eyes came back to him and guilt racked his insides. He had been a tiny bit harsh. It wasn’t his or her fault that this had happened, and it was technically happening to both of them, not just to him. Torren rolled out his shoulders and stopped pacing in the middle of the room. He let the smells of his garden plants and flowers waft over him, focusing on the way they calmed his thoughts. He ran his fingers through his hair. Damn the stars, he was such an ass.
If this was going to work, he’d need to put some effort into being friendly. It wasn’t good for his magic if the house was in unrest or imbalanced. And his thoughts needed to settle. Anger didn’t sit well in meditation and credence work. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he took his frustrations out on her. And he didn’t hardly know anything about the human, aside from where she worked and that she liked books. He could get to know her, maybe a little. Set the ground rules. They could have a civil conversation, maybe over dinner, after he worked more on his credence. What’s the worst that could happen?
