by Lolita Lopez
“Oh.” Cora was clearly confused by his abruptness. “All right.”
Stig nodded and headed out of the living room. He paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “Cora?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a door in the kitchen. It leads down to the cellar. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave it alone. I’m having an issue with infestation.”
Cora’s eyes widened. “Infestation?”
He shrugged. “The house is so close to the woods. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” He held her gaze. “You’ll keep out?”
Cora nodded dutifully. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” A painful quiver of blazing heat pierced his abdomen. He needed to get downstairs—fast.
“I’ll go ahead and get the rest of my things.” She started toward the front door. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be fine tonight. We can talk in the morning.”
Stig sensed the shift in her emotions. She’d arrived distraught and afraid and now seemed calmed. That the simple act of stepping into his home gave her such a sense of security tugged at his heart. Suddenly, he remembered why he’d made that offer to her at Hector’s funeral. Even then he’d been drawn to her, had wanted to gather her close to his chest and caress her silky black hair.
But those feelings were wrong then and were still wrong now. There was an unspoken code among friends. As Hector’s baby sister, Cora was off-limits.
“Good night, Cora.”
“Night, Stig.”
He didn’t linger but took advantage of her short trip outside to rush into the kitchen. He made sure to lock the basement door behind him before running down the stairs. His bones ached and his muscles burned as his inner beast struggled for freedom.
Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His night vision allowed him to move swiftly and safely down the corridor. With each descending footstep, the temperature dropped and the musty dankness grew stronger. The stairs ended on a wet slab of stone blocked by a heavy steel door. He punched in the code and yanked open the door that led into a stunningly beautiful cavern.
Decades earlier, he’d discovered the secluded cave during a solo spelunking trip. Building a house over what he intended as his subterranean lair only made sense. The layers of rock and dirt filtered his enhanced scent, cloaking him from those who would do him harm. It provided a secure place for him to hide out during these episodes of uncontrollable animalistic lust and blood thirst that plagued him every three years. Until he found a mate, a proper nonhuman mate, Stig wouldn’t be able to shake his mating heat.
He ducked beneath a tricky little stalactite he hadn’t had the heart to rip down while outfitting the cavern for his needs. There was no time to dally tonight. Stig quickly undressed. He walked over to the far wall and grabbed the titanium chains. They rattled in his trembling hands as he secured them around his ankles and wrists. The time-activated lock beeped and began the countdown to sunrise and safety.
Secure in his bonds, Stig relaxed his shoulders and welcomed the change. Scaly green patches transformed his tanned skin. The bones of his face elongated into a kind of snout. His short nails lengthened and sharpened into acid-green talons. Stig groaned in pain as his back snapped and realigned itself into a curved shape. With a rending of skin and a scream from his throat, pterodactyl-like wings sprouted from his back, the black reptilian membrane wet and stretched thin between the joints.
And just like that, his inner dragon was free. The primal urges of his beast suppressed Stig’s humanity. For now, he could only think with the primitive parts of his brain. Hunt. Food. Sex. Sleep. Those were his strongest desires.
He jerked at his bonds, desperate for freedom and yearning for a taste of the young woman whose tantalizing smell still teased him despite the depths he’d descended. His mouth watered and his erection twitched at the vision of parting her thighs and lapping at her honeyed sex. He could just imagine the sensation of tight, wet heat that would envelope his cock if he thrust deep inside her.
Burning up with lust, Stig shuddered and pressed back against the cool stone. He didn’t dare look at the blinking hours and seconds on the locks. Thankful for the strength of his chains, he closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to subjugate his dragon’s needs.
This was going to be one very long night indeed.
* * *
Cora dragged the last of her suitcases into the guest bedroom. It was small and sparsely furnished. She’d expected nothing less from Stig. He wasn’t the warm and cozy type. Actually, Cora was pleasantly surprised not to find a military-style rack complete with itchy wool blanket and paper-thin sheets. The full-sized bed offered a comfy pillow-top mattress and nice fluffy white comforter. Pale blue walls added a soothing effect she desperately needed.
Her tummy clenched at the thought of having to tell Stig about the mess she’d created. Heat flooded her cheeks. She could imagine the disapproving expression he’d wear. She’d often seen a similar look on Hector’s face. Neither man had been programmed to take risks or take the plunge into the unknown in pursuit of a dream. Cora, on the other hand, thrived on uncertainty. She liked taking chances. Sometimes they turned out fine and sometimes…well…they didn’t.
Hunger pangs twisted her belly. When had she last eaten? Oh right. That gross drive-through burger joint about five hours ago.
Cora left her room and carefully tiptoed past the door she assumed led to Stig’s room. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb him. For a second there, she’d thought he was really going to refuse her entrance to his house. Her gut told her there was something more than a headache causing his weird behavior.
Her first instinct? That he had a lover in the house. The very thought of another woman, naked and sated in Stig’s bed, had soured her stomach. From the first time she’d spied Stig Wyvern six years earlier, she’d been smitten with her older brother’s friend. A college freshman, she’d been smart enough to realize a war-hardened marine like Stig wouldn’t be interested in her. It hadn’t been easy to ignore her raging crush but she’d done it. The last thing she’d wanted to do was embarrass herself or him or Hector. Even though she’d managed to suppress her strong feelings toward Stig, there was no denying the spark of jealousy that had burned her at the thought of him with another woman in his secluded cabin. Realizing her first instinct was wrong had been quite a relief.
So what the hell was his problem? Clearly he wasn’t comfortable with her in the house. Hopefully it really was a headache and not something else. If Stig put her out, she’d be on the streets by the end of the week. The cash in her wallet was running low and there was no one else she trusted to keep her safe.
Down in the kitchen, Cora took a few moments to investigate the cabinets and fridge contents. The pantry shelves were well stocked and her mind raced with possibilities for the morning. Her grandmother had always preached that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If there was one thing Stig had always loved, it was Cora’s baking and cooking skills. Considering she desperately needed his help, she’d bake, sauté, fricassee, braise, and roast every recipe in her mental cookbook.
But for tonight a sandwich would suffice. Cora made quick work of assembling her dinner, grabbed a chilled can of fizzy soda from the fridge, and sat at the sturdy wooden table. Her fingertips brushed over the smooth-grained tabletop. She marveled at the exquisite craftsmanship.
Stig’s skill as a woodworker was well known. When he’d retired from the Marine Corps, he’d turned his hobby into a thriving business. Cora had seen the adjacent workshop as she’d pulled into the gravel driveway. From what she understood, almost all of his business came from online orders. It seemed client interaction was low on his list of priorities.
Apparently Stig was quite content with his loner status. That was something she’d never understood about him. He’d enjoyed spending a day or two with them in San Antonio whenever Hector invited him down but he always seemed so restless and uneasy, as if he couldn’t wait to escape. He thr
ived on the solitude of his woodsy fortress. The city seemed to sap him of his vitality.
Cora mused on his oddness as she cleaned up her dishes and swept away the crumbs on the counter and table. There was something about Stig that wasn’t quite right. She used to think it was the effect of all those tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe some post-traumatic stress disorder, but the more she was around him, the less she thought that was the answer.
Clearly he had some lingering issues from his time at war. Hector had been the same way. The nightmares of those days in the violence-fueled desert had driven her brother toward the alcohol and drugs that had eventually led to his demise. Stig, on the other hand, seemed able to master the horrors of war in a way Hector simply never could.
Cora often thought she glimpsed the tiniest bit of guilt reflected in Stig’s eyes whenever they spoke of her brother. No matter how many times she assured Stig he hadn’t failed Hector, she could tell he didn’t believe it. Stig had taken Hector’s car accident incredibly hard. As far as Cora could tell, Hector had been Stig’s only real friend, so the loss must have been as unbearable for him as it had been for her.
But they had each other to lean on for support.
There had been a time in those initial weeks following Hector’s death when Cora had thought maybe, just maybe, Stig felt more for her than friendship, that they weren’t only united in grief but in other, more intimate ways. She’d quickly realized her hopes in that area would never come to fruition. Perhaps it was the age difference or the sibling connection but Stig never gave her any indication that he was interested in anything beyond friendship.
And it killed her.
There was no denying her intense attraction to him. Who wouldn’t have the hots for such a deliciously sexy former marine? With that square jaw and that heart-melting grin, Stig set her on fire every time he was near. The thought of being embraced by those thick, muscular arms or having those broad shoulders rippling as he thrust into her welcoming body was almost too much. Her knees weakened at the mere thought of Stig kissing her neck or nibbling her lower lip.
As much as it embarrassed her, Cora still nurtured a secret hope that Stig would one day see her not just as his best friend’s sister but as the sexually confident young woman she’d become. Maybe this would be the visit that changed things between them? She’d never been around Stig on his home turf. Whether or not that improved her odds of success, she couldn’t say, but it was worth a try.
Cora flicked off the light and started to leave the kitchen. The strangest noise, a mix between a growl and a moan, stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned back to the kitchen and fixed her gaze on the basement door. The sound had most definitely come from beneath the house.
What kind of animal made a noise like that? Not a raccoon or skunk, owl, or bat. Were there coyotes and wolves in the woods? Yes, probably, but how would they get into the basement? Maybe there was outside access to the cellar? A door or vent of some kind?
Her chest constricted with nervousness. She slowly crossed the kitchen and pressed her ear to the door. There was nothing to be heard but her shaky breaths. Whatever she’d heard was quiet now.
A moment later another lonesome howl penetrated the door. Cora’s breath caught in her throat. The fine hairs along her nape stood on edge. So close to the basement entrance, she heard the sound more clearly, a mix of an elephant’s trumpet and a lion’s roar. No, that definitely didn’t belong to any animal she’d ever heard of. What the hell was that?
Cora backed away and left the kitchen in a hurry. Despite the growing distance from the possible threat, she couldn’t shake the eerie sensation. When Stig woke in the morning, she’d ask him to go down there and check it out. Maybe whatever had gotten in there was hurt and needed help.
Or maybe it wanted to break free and eat her face.
Shuddering at that frightening thought, Cora rushed into her room, located her toiletry bag, and skittered across the hall into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Back in her room, she locked the door, slipped into her pajamas, switched off the lights, and slid under the covers.
Wrapped in the warmth of the comforter, Cora felt her fear melt and exhaustion take hold. The last four days had been incredibly long. Sleep, she needed lots of sleep.
Cloaked in the welcoming arms of Morpheus, Cora experienced the most vivid dreams of her life. She was asleep and yet so incredibly aware. Her synapses fired rapidly and amplified every sensation. Touch, smell, taste—they were so very strong.
In her dreams, Cora became aware of a male presence. His scent, a potent mixture of cedar and earth and sweat, teased her nose. Like an aphrodisiac, the smell provoked an aroused state. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks pressing against the simple cotton of her camisole. Her sex pulsed as desire blossomed in her belly and spread its warm tendrils of electric current through her lower half.
There was no stopping the downward movement of her hands. They outlined her curves, taking time to tweak her nipples beneath the thin fabric before sliding even lower. Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic waistband of her pajama bottoms and panties and slowly drew them free.
Undressed from the waist down, Cora sat up against her pillows and opened her thighs. Cool air met the blazing hot skin of her most intimate region. Wet and slick, the tender folds of her pussy yielded to the gentle parting of her fingers. Her throbbing clit begged for attention. With the tip of her forefinger, Cora stimulated the swollen nub in lazy circles.
Big and burly, the man loomed naked in the doorway and bathed in shadows. The sight should have terrified Cora but she found it oddly thrilling. There was something so sexy about a little exhibitionism. Moonlight spilled through the window and splashed across his lower half. His magnificent cock, so thick and erect, betrayed his obvious interest. Although she couldn’t see his eyes through the darkness, she could feel his heated gaze locked on her. It swept along her body, leaving a prickly sensation of awareness.
Cora watched in fascination as the naked man fisted his meaty hand over his stiff length. Wanting to give him quite a naughty show, she licked her upper lip and moaned loudly. She arched into the tantalizing touch of her circling finger. The fingers of her other hand found their way between her lips and into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the skin, slicking it with her saliva, and then slipped them inside her tight, hot channel.
A gasp sounded from the doorway. So he liked that, did he?
She moaned and swiveled her hips. Her finger thrusts felt so good, the slick cream of her cunt coating her digits. Little sparks of pleasure flickered through her lower belly. Cora’s toes curled against the sheets. Her wrist moved faster as she strummed her clit with more fervor. Mouth agape, Cora pursued her climax.
Still standing in the doorway, her mystery dream lover breathed hard and loud. His forearm rippled as he stroked his cock. Their competing pants echoed in the stillness of the room. Cora wasn’t sure who would come first. It was almost a race to the precipice of ecstasy.
In the end, she cried out a few seconds before the shadow man. Her pussy contracted and clenched around her fingers as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. He grunted as if in pain and spilled his cum in ropy bursts.
Separated from her partner in exhibition, Cora was suddenly gripped by the desire to touch his sweat-slicked skin, to taste the salty cream now dripping from the blunt head of his cock. She wanted to be held close and caressed like some soft creature. She wanted to feel his soothing breaths against her forehead and hear the reassuring beat of his heart as she slept against his chest.
But none of those desires were to materialize.
As quickly as her dream lover had appeared, he vanished. In the next instant, Cora woke and shot up off her pillow. Trembling and sweating, she sucked in a sharp breath. She wiped a shaky hand down her face. Her thighs clenched with the last tremors of her fading orgasm.
Cora’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She’d just had a wet dream in the room next to Stig’
s. As a former marine, he was bound to be keenly aware of his surroundings. Had she cried out in her sleep? Oh God. Had he heard her?
Groaning in humiliation, Cora flopped back against her pillow and buried her face in the crook of her arm. How the hell was she going to face him at the breakfast table in the morning?
Please see the next page for an excerpt of the second book in Lolita Lopez’s Dragon Heat series, Red Hot Dragon.
Available now!
Chapter One
Awash in adrenaline, Griffin Cadogan eyed his opponent across the sparring cage. He danced from foot to foot as he waited for Mad to make his move. The springy mat was cool beneath his bare soles. Though they’d been at this for nearly half an hour, it wasn’t the physical exertion making him so hot. No, tonight his mating phase would begin. Already his body was beginning to show the subtle signs as his forced shifting approached.
Like a raging bull, Mad charged him. Griff stepped into the oncoming assault but twisted his upper body just enough to escape the brunt of his cousin’s impact. Griff kneed him right in the stomach and slammed his elbow into the other man’s back. But it wasn’t enough to slow Mad down, and he wrapped his arms around Griffin’s waist. They fell to the mat with so much force they bounced.
Limbs entangled, they grappled and slapped. Anyone who caught a glimpse of them fighting would have assumed they were engaged in a death match. In fighting without gloves or protective head gear, they were breaking the rules of the mixed-martial-arts training facility they owned, but since they had the place to themselves for the afternoon no one would be the wiser.
Griff tried to get Mad in a headlock, but the other man twisted and arched his back to avoid being pinned in a bad position. Griff’s inner beast struggled to be set free. The primal urge to destroy threatened to overwhelm him, but he wasn’t worried about hurting Madoc. They’d been fighting this way for centuries. If anyone had the strength and skill to beat his ass when he was on the verge of going into heat and unleashing his dragon, it was Mad.
