The second stroke triggered a lush lick of heat that simultaneously shot up Beau’s spine and sped toward the tingling soles of his feet. Jace clutched him tighter as he whimpered and bit down on his lip, willing himself not to move. The next stroke completed the stretch, and the sharper feelings mellowed. The nip of pain crossed into a subtler realm of heightened sensations. He reached between his thighs, grasped his shaft, and gave it a fierce stroke.
Jace leaned closer. Heat rolled off his chest. He thrust deeper and parted Beau’s thighs farther. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Beau was almost startled by the certainty in his voice.
Jace pulled out all the way only to sink back in with force. He smacked his hips against Beau’s ass. “Like that?”
Beau lurched forward on his knees. “I want it.”
“You got it.” Jace dove into Beau with a burst of short strokes that built in intensity to a brisk pounding.
Beau gazed into the mirror, fascinated by the intense expression on Jace’s face as he drove into him. Jace repeatedly hit the sweet spot and kept bumping it in an ever-faster rhythm. An explosive climax for both of them was moments away. He was about to shoot and drench the pillows, and there was nothing in the world that could stop it. Gulping a deep breath, he opened his mouth and howled as he came so hard he felt dizzy.
Jace wrapped his arms around Beau’s waist and clung to his back as he thrust wildly. “Fuck!” he groaned as he finished inside Beau. “My God.” His breath was heavy. A moment later he rasped, “Is Devon still dreaming?”
Beau tried to settle his mind and reach out to Devon, but the link had broken. Nothing came back to him. “I’m sorry, Jace. The link is broken. I think she must be awake.”
Devon sat up in bed with a start, shaking with pleasure. Her breath was swift, and perspiration covered her face. She kicked the bedcovers aside. “Holy mother of wet dreams! What just happened?”
The dream of Jace and Beau had started off innocently enough, but halfway through, it had escalated into a screaming roller coaster of realistic sensations that left her feeling like she’d just been ridden hard and fast into the next county—but wow, what a ride.
At that moment she wanted to be with Jace and Beau so badly she ached. She glanced at the clock. It read 4:36 a.m. It was an ungodly time to wake up, but she knew there would be no going back to sleep, not after that heart-pounding dream. She slid out of bed, put on a T-shirt and sloppy sweatpants, and dragged herself into the kitchen to make coffee.
It was still cold and dark outside, and she was grateful to be home in her little apartment. She did miss the guys, and wondered at least twice every waking minute where they were and if they were okay. After texting or calling everyone in her department with vague inquiries until she’d become a pest, all she’d been able to learn from coworkers was they weren’t showing up at the magazine, and each had claimed emergency sick days and offered only vague excuses to their colleagues. No one seemed to know where they were, and she was afraid to start asking too many questions and call the wrong sort of attention to that fact. For now their whereabouts would just have to remain unknown.
Out of habit, Devon reached toward the television remote, then set it down without turning on the TV. She knew what she’d see. All the news stations would be showing candid on-the-street interviews of citizens all over the country claiming they’d seen dragons, been abducted by dragons, or had borne the secret love children of dragons.
Most of the people who came forward looked and sounded wacko. One recent interviewee not only claimed he’d been savaged by dragons, but also believed he was harboring the restless soul of Elvis and burst into song to prove it. She couldn’t bear to be associated with any of them. Each of these kooky reports inevitably concluded with her horrible passport picture flashed on the screen, displaying her droopy-eyed photo as the woman who started it all.
Privacy had become an issue. The regular on-air embarrassment had led to curbside harassment in front of her apartment building from both paparazzi and the merely curious asking too many questions. Everyone wanted a word with her. Intense interest in dragons had made her a virtual prisoner. Two days ago, she had discovered the hard way that it was now impossible to run a simple errand. The moment she’d stepped outside, she’d been followed and hounded, and she hadn’t dared to leave her apartment since. Now she was down to ramen noodles and coffee without almond milk.
Today was the day; like it or not, she needed to leave the apartment and at least start pretending to be normal. She finished her coffee and walked into the bathroom to turn on the shower. This was probably a good day to wash her hair too. She’d been avoiding anything that required the least amount of effort, and knew that apathetic attitude had to stop.
She’d been so preoccupied with her adventure in Africa and worrying about Jace and Beau that everything else had taken a back seat. The days had passed with her curled on the couch, watching movies and talking on the phone to any friend who would still make time for her. Arcona, patient soul that she was, had already heard her crazy tale twice. She’d listened with an understanding heart, and was the only friend she dared share the complete truth with. Just telling another had been a huge relief. Everyone else got the sexually censored, dragon-free version of the adventure, which meant they didn’t hear much.
Devon stepped into the shower with a fragrant bottle of shampoo in her hand and promised herself that no matter what was waiting for her in the outside world, she would pull herself together, be proud, and take herself to breakfast at her favorite coffee shop on the ground floor of the International Explorer building.
The warm water streamed downward and felt wonderful. She picked up a bar of soap and allowed it to glide across her wet skin. She closed her eyes and longed to lie snuggled between Jace and Beau and make love to them both until everyone was worn out and silently cursed the world for preventing it.
Jace sat on the couch staring at the ridiculous stuff on the news. This was the first time in days that he almost felt normal. Maybe if he just hung on a little longer there’d be hope. He clicked off the television. “There you have it.” He frowned. “Dragon mania is raging full throttle. Where did that Elvis freak come from? I don’t know what that guy could possibly be talking about.” He glanced sideways at Beau. “Are you sure you haven’t savaged someone and not told me about it?”
Beau laughed and brushed a thick blond lock of hair from his eyes. “I have done no such thing.”
“Do you think Devon felt us in her dream?” Jace licked his lips.
“I don’t know. I certainly felt her.”
“I miss Devon.”
“I know you do.” Beau stood and walked into the kitchen. “I miss her too.”
“It doesn’t feel right without her.” Another deep wave of heartsickness overwhelmed him. All of this was his fault. He was a failed alpha who aimed high but lost control of his mating situation, and he had no one to blame but himself. If he’d not exposed his dragon self to Kibo, Devon would be snug in their dragon lair bonding with them. They could have been enjoying a beautiful African honeymoon instead of a frustrating and uncertain future. He pointed toward a handsome love seat with a well-matched reading lamp. “I bought those with Devon in mind. I was already thinking of Devon as ours, and I never believed for a moment that she wouldn’t be. I blew it.”
Beau’s pale brows met. “It’s not over yet. We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“With crap like what I just saw on the news, and sadists like Commander Vorden following us around, Devon’s going to be thinking twice about getting involved with us. We’re fucked in a bad way!” He snarled and slapped his palm against the armrest.
“I’m worried too.” Beau moved to the couch and patted Jace’s knee. “We have no control over what she decides.”
“I realize that. It’s just so infuriating. We finally found the woman who would complete us, and she’s been handed every reason to feel unsure about us. We traveled to the s
acred cave for her. It was good. We were close. I could feel her accepting the situation and even enjoying it.” Jace stood and paced across the room. “Devon’s a loving woman, and she’s so brave, but I know that incident with that sicko Vorden scared her bad. She’d be crazy to come near us again. Not to mention the whole world’s pointing an accusing finger at her.” He repeatedly raked his fingers through his hair.
“You’re doing it again with your hair. Leave it alone. It’s definitely becoming a nervous habit for you.” Beau walked to Jace’s side and took hold of his hand.
“I want to go to Devon and tell her everything, but it wouldn’t be right. Telling her the truth would be like blackmailing her. We can’t force Devon’s decision. She has to bond with us without reservations and of her own free will. If not, I’d still….”
Beau’s gaze flicked. “You don’t have to remind me.”
Tension built inside until it was so unbearable he wanted to scream. “I can’t think of anything else. I’m so frustrated.”
“It’s not just you. I’m hurting too.”
Beau’s words struck a chord. Jace turned and looked at Beau with a sadness welling inside. “Sorry, man. I know you are.”
“Maybe there’s another way to reach Devon that won’t break the rules and still allow her to make an independent decision.” Beau squeezed Jace’s hand.
“What could possibly be said or done that wouldn’t leave Devon feeling guilt-ridden or alarmed about this situation? We can’t call Devon and say, ‘Risk your life and ours and hurry back to my bed, or else I’m going to die.’ That is not a free-choice-without-conditions situation. I can’t see a way around this that doesn’t involve Devon having to take unacceptable risks, and we don’t have the luxury of time. Damn the Hathors and their genetic self-destruct button.”
A bright glint lit deep within Beau’s eyes. “It was never the Hathors’ intention to annihilate the Marduko. They meant to challenge us. You never know. There might be something we can do. Let me think about it.“
“Like what?” He hated how defeated he sounded.
“For the moment, why don’t we get dressed and get out of the apartment? How about breakfast at the Explorer Café?”
“Do you think it’s wise to go near work? Supposedly, we’re both on sick leave—separately.”
“It’s so early. We won’t see the usual crowd at this time.” Beau moved toward the bedroom. “Come on, let’s go. It will be good to take a walk and do something normal. Besides, I woke up starving.”
Jace tugged at his hair. “Don’t tell me it will help get my mind off Devon, because it won’t.”
“I know.“ Beau stilled Jace’s hand. “Stop with the hair pulling. Just get dressed.”
16
Devon slicked sheer pink lipstick on her lips and stepped away from the mirror. Her wavy hair was glossy and pulled back in a loose ponytail. At least she looked better than she felt. She searched her closet for something casual, flattering, and most of all not rumpled. Living in sweatpants for so many days in a row had left her with a harsh case of the frumps, and she had to stop moping and get out.
It was hard to accept that it could be weeks, months, or God forbid, longer before she could safely be with Jace and Beau again. She refused to be the clumsy, clueless soul who might haplessly lead a killer like Commander Vorden straight to them.
Since leaving Africa, she’d tried and failed to talk herself out of what she felt for Jace and Beau, but deep inside she knew it was too late to ask questions—she already loved them both. The feelings grew, and she couldn’t put Jace and Beau out of her mind or heart. Every waking thought became yet another internal confrontation of what to do about their many problems. But there was nothing she could do. For their safety, love demanded she keep her distance, and real love put the welfare of others first. Under no circumstances could she call or meet them, even if the desire to do so was killing her.
Devon locked her apartment and headed downstairs. She was greeted by a persistent paparazzo at the entrance of the building. Several friends from work had warned her that he’d been lurking near her building for days, so she wasn’t too surprised when he clicked a few photos as she dashed across the foyer.
“Can I have a word with you?” he pleaded.
“No.” She kept moving toward the door. “This has gotten ridiculous. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Are you sure?” The man’s tone softened. There was a distinct gentleness in his gaze that reminded her of Beau. “Maybe it’s time everyone just admitted there was an open secret. Would that be so terrible?”
Devon froze. This man wasn’t at all what she’d expected. He was young, quite handsome, and his face radiated sincerity. There was something comforting about his presence that almost made her let down her guard and speak with him. She felt no threat from him, and perhaps that made him even more dangerous.
He held out his hand, proving to her that he wasn’t going to take her picture. “We have something in common. I’m not your enemy. There are more of us in the world than you might think.” He pocketed his camera and stepped into the shadows of a stairwell. “Be careful out there.”
Devon hurried toward the door, mulling the man’s strange words over in her mind. What did he mean by more of us? She glanced back and saw he was gone.
She pushed the front door open and got slapped in the face with a chilly burst of drizzly fog blowing off the bay. Even though it was dawn, the streetlights were still on. Wrapping her scarf high around her throat, she thrust her hands deep into her pockets and jogged down the block.
“There she is. Follow her!” a man shouted from behind.
Devon glanced around, hoping to locate the source of the commotion. A car pulled up behind her and the driver slowed and began taking pictures.
She slipped the scarf over her face and turned away.
The occupant of the car rolled down the window and whined, “Don’t be that way. Come on, lady, gimme one decent photo!”
“Don’t talk to him!” Another frantic man emerged from a doorway, waving a check in his hand. “I’m from the Tattle Rag Globe, and we’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars for an exclusive interview with photos.” He tried to thrust the check into Devon’s pocket.
“What the hell?” Devon resisted. “Back off!”
The man kept pushing the check on her. “Come on, right here, right now. The Tattle Rag Globe is ready to hear your story. It can become a weekly feature. That is if you like earning fifty thousand dollars a week.”
“Get away from me!” Devon darted past the man.
The man pursued her. “How about sixty thousand? Come on, that’s great money for a ten-minute interview, and you know it!”
Devon broke into a run.
The man shouted from behind. “Oh, I get it now. You’ve already spoken to the World Babbler. How much did they pay? You’re wasting your time with those idiots. I’m warning you. Their check will bounce!”
Devon’s boot heels clicked against the pavement as she ran with a scarf wrapped around her face like a highwayman.
A speeding scooter with two riders approached on her left. The scooter almost scraped the curb as a paparazzo riding on the back clicked pictures of her. The scooter struck a puddle and sent ice-cold water splashing onto Devon’s pant leg before zipping away.
“Goddamn you!” She leaped back. This situation was unbearable; if she weren’t so hungry, she would have turned around and gone back to her apartment. She shook the dirty water down her leg.
“I can’t live like this!” Devon darted down the street.
Jace stared at the breakfast burrito with disinterest. The food at the Explorer Café was always delicious, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat.
Beau glanced at the untouched plate with concern. “Is there something wrong with it? Order something else.”
“It’s fine,” he grumbled. Eating felt like a monumental task. “I miss—”
“I know,” Beau interrupted. “Be care
ful with names.” He winked. “No thinking out loud in public, okay?”
“You’re right.” Jace rubbed his eye with his palm as if he could grind the deepening sense of frustration away. He wasn’t even allowed to say Devon’s name, and he found that thought extremely depressing.
“Good morning. You braved the outside world!” Burt, the owner of the Explorer Café, called to a customer. “I’ve been seeing your face all over the news.”
Jace turned just as Devon strolled into the café with flushed cheeks.
“Hi, Burt.” Devon walked straight toward Burt without looking around the restaurant. “Can you seat me in a quiet corner? I have a few unwanted companions following me around town.”
Burt craned his neck and glanced out the window. “I see them. Hopefully they’ll stay out there, and when you’re ready to leave, I’ll lead you out through the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I’m already sick of being chased by these guys, and I still have a few errands to run.” Devon turned to follow Burt and looked directly at Jace and Beau seated in a corner booth. She froze.
Jace drew a tense breath. It took every ounce of self-control to stay seated and not leap to his feet and crush Devon against his chest in a bear hug. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her onto his lap, and hold her captive while he covered her in kisses. He stared back at her, his jaw muscles clenched so tightly his temples pounded. “Good morning,” he muttered.
“You’re up early. Is everything okay at the office?” Devon’s voice flattened as her gaze darted between him and Beau.
“You know each other?” Burt loomed between them.
“We work on the same floor.” Beau motioned for Devon to join them. “If you’re having trouble with the paparazzi, why don’t you sit with us?” He patted the seat beside him. “We’ll protect you.”
“I think the lady wants to be seated alone.” Burt placed his hand on Devon’s shoulder and steered her toward a private booth in the opposite corner.
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