Dragon's Heart, Volume 1

by T. Cobbin

  Dragon’s Heart, Volume 1

  by

  T. Cobbin

  Dragon’s Heart, Volume 1

  Dragon’s Heart: Troy’s Trouble: copyright © 2016, T. Cobbin

  Dragon’s Heart: Dennenth’s Darling: copyright © 2016, T. Cobbin

  Dragon’s Heart: Pete’s Precious: copyright © 2016, T. Cobbin

  ISBN: 9781944270568

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: January 2017

  Edited by Pamela Tyner

  Cover Art by Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dedication

  To my children, for loving me even though I made mistakes. For my grandchildren, who gave me a new lease on life. I love you more.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to a wonderful publisher, Pamela Tyner and Beachwalk Press, for giving me another chance to tantalize my readers with my imagination. And to everyone else behind the scenes who make me look better.

  Author’s Foreword

  There is always something around the corner. Don’t give up.

  Dragon’s Heart: Troy’s Trouble

  It was just supposed to be a one-night stand, but it turned into so much more.

  Troy spends his days and nights running his nightclub, Dragon’s Heart. Despite his busy schedule, he doesn’t lack for female companionship. He’s never had a problem attracting women, or a problem saying goodbye to them the next morning. Then one night he meets a beautiful young lady at his club, and she changes all that.

  Initially, Troy thought it would just be another one-night stand, but he discovers he’s very wrong. This woman is his mate. However, the next morning he wakes up to an empty bed with no way to locate her. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s determined to find her though—he has to. But how will she react when she discovers he’s a dragon shifter?

  Amy is a nursery teacher who lives a quiet life. She isn’t one for sleeping around, but something about Troy pulls her in. She decides that just this once she’ll relax and enjoy herself…enjoy him. She has no idea that one night will turn her world upside down. Not only is she about to enter a whole new world she had no idea even existed, but her past is about to rear its ugly head, and she may not survive.

  Content Warning: contains strong language, some violence, and lots of hot, steamy sex

  Chapter 1

  The music drummed quietly in the background of the car, but Troy hardly noticed it. His mind was busy trying to run through the events of last night. He’d woken up to an aching head and a female’s slight scent left on the pillows and sheets of his bed.

  He never wanted for a good fuck at the end of an evening. He was just over six feet, with a sculptured, clean-shaven face and a toned, muscled body that matched his confidence, and it gave him an advantage with the females, had them crawling, almost drooling over him. His usual pattern was to take them to the nearest hotel, or her place. A few times he’d even taken women in the beds hidden upstairs in the club. But last night he’d taken her back to his place—something he never did.

  He could recall snippets of their lovemaking. He did remember how hot it was, her silky smooth skin, the taste of her cream, how hard he had roared when he came, but damn if he could remember her face.

  The weather had been scorching hot this summer, so his windows had been wide open, bringing in the city air, and it had dispelled a lot of her scent left behind, but enough of her scent was left for him to confirm one very important thing—the woman was his mate.

  He’d been so out of it he hadn’t heard her leave. That made him growl—he was an Alpha, a shifter, a dragon!

  His dragon was still pretty pissed at him, growling itself and pacing inside of his skin, wanting out to find his mate, their mate. If it wasn’t for him, Troy would have never known he had bitten her, let alone spilled his seed inside of her. He was always so careful, so he was still a little shocked by that.

  He now drove back to his nightclub, Dragon’s Heart, to look over the camera footage with the hope that his dragon, or even his vague memory, could find her face among the hundreds that had been there last night.

  * * * *

  Picking up the stray pieces of chalk lying on the floor, Amy placed them on the various blackboard stands around the small childcare facility in the quiet country village where she lived. She had been a nursery teacher since graduating and had found this out-of-the way nursery willing to take her on. She didn’t enjoy the city life anymore since her brother had died a few years back. Their parents had been partygoers, chasing a life that they thought they deserved. They had gone out almost every day, all night, leaving Amy and her brother home alone to cope on whatever was in the house.

  The first eight years of her life had been lonely. As soon as she was tall enough to reach the front door, Amy would sneak outside and raid the neighbors’ bins, looking for food and other necessary items. She had learned the basics about caring for herself by watching television, but even that was short lived. One night her parents had returned home early and caught her out of her room. The television had promptly disappeared. Amy learned very early on to stay out of their way. If she was seen or heard, hours of derogative and abusive comments were thrown her way. Tears would make the situation even worse, so she learned to keep them inside until her parents weren’t around.

  One evening Rosie, the elderly lady who lived next door, had caught Amy going through her bins, but instead of shooing her away or scolding her, she had invited Amy in and fed her. Rosie never asked questions, and Amy never offered details. The elderly woman didn’t have family or friends, much preferring her own company. But Rosie began to accept Amy, and the two of them became firm friends, enjoying each other’s companionship. Rosie even taught her how to read and write.

  One night Amy had been woken by a tiny wailing noise in her room. At the bottom of her bed was a baby boy, a blanket thrown over him and a tin of formula that was just as big as he was beside him. She had no idea what to do, so after making sure the house was empty she nipped over to Rosie’s. At first the woman was shocked, but over the next few months she taught Amy the basics about taking care of an infant. The rest she had to learn from books or general mistakes. Potty training was quite an experience for them both. Not long after that, Rosie died, going to sleep one night never to wake up. Amy felt her loss greatly.

  For a few years, Amy managed to scrape by, finding food or clothes for them while staying out of the adults’ way. At the age of twelve Amy found a newspaper round. That helped a lot. Adam loved going out with her delivering the papers.

  Not long after her birthday, she noticed her father taking notice of her when he was around, and it was then that she swallowed all her fear and asked if she could go to school. For whatever bizarre reason, he got places for both her and Adam.

  Around this time her father seemed to become more observant of her. He would find a way to drop a nice comment here and there, which was pleasant to hear but also kind of creepy being that he had only ever spoken to her harshly or derogatively. When he was home he would walk around naked, bumping into her if she stepped outside of her room. He would find some excuse to touch her, stare at her, telling her she had her mother’s eyes. It gradually got worse when he would find reasons to enter her room.

  When Amy was fourteen she and Adam had walked in from school to find her parents fucking
against the living room wall. Amy had covered Adam’s eyes and went quickly into their room, but the memory of her father’s leering face and sly smile was embedded in her brain. That was the last straw. She had seen more than enough. Her life was just getting worse.

  On her paper round and many excursions to find food and little jobs she had spotted a small block of flats that had been cleared out years ago and was meant to be knocked down, but the company had run out of money so eventually it had turned into a squat. The next day she plucked up the courage to go in and take a look around. There was a small room in the back that she could use for a while until she could save some money. She knew it could be a dangerous move being there were gangs in the area, but she and Adam were practiced in being quiet and keeping their heads down, so it was a chance she was willing to take. That night she and Adam gathered their meager belongings and left. She doubted her parents even noticed that they were gone let alone bothered to look for them.

  They were lucky enough to stay out of harm’s way over the next year, and she finally managed to save enough money to rent a flat. Then the age limit was her next hill to climb. But again luck struck, and she found a landlord who was only interested in getting the rent money and didn’t care how old she was.

  They had done well for a few years, Amy managing to look after them both. Adam got his first job in a small corner sweet shop he had often visited. The couple who owned it had regularly helped the pair of them over the years. After a while Adam took on the role of manager when the couple took the step closer to retirement, and things got a whole lot better money wise. Amy went to night school and got her diploma to be a nursery teacher.

  But then five years ago Adam had been fatally stabbed while banking the night’s takings. He was left bleeding to death on the cold ground after being dragged to an alley, where his body was hidden. He didn’t make it to the hospital.

  Amy’s heart always seemed to miss a beat when she thought about Adam, but here she was now thirty years old, doing what she wanted to do, where she wanted to be.

  * * * *

  Pegging up the last of the children’s paintings on the line stretched across the room, Amy’s stomach wretched a little at smelling the still drying paint. Her thoughts automatically took her back to a few weeks ago when her stomach had felt the same after a night out. It had been a teacher conference, a couple of nights in London with a lot of boring meetings that had to be attended. On the last night she and a few of her teacher buddies had gone to a rather posh nightclub. A place that you couldn’t get into unless you were rich, famous, or just damn lucky. But with a friend of a friend that knew someone who would let them in they had managed to achieve it.

  She had worn a figure-hugging, red, thigh-length dress and six-inch, red, fuck-me shoes that she wasn’t very comfortable wearing. Wendy, her best friend, had bet her a week’s wages she wouldn’t wear it, and being money was so tight it was a bet she couldn’t afford to lose. It wasn’t that the dress was bad, it was the fact she was happy to wear her flowing, ankle-length skirts. The dress pulled across her chest, amplifying her breasts, pulling in at the waist and sliding tightly over her bottom. To top it off, the dress needed no bra, and even worse was the thong she wore underneath just so there was no knicker line. She did, however, have a little savior—her long, blonde hair that drifted in curls down her back, covering her arse.

  Between the vodka shots that were pushed her way and the various cocktails, Amy and her friends had danced, sliding up against the other dancers, taking in the thundering music and reveling in the beats. Sometime in the evening, a heated pair of hands had pulled at her waist, a hot, hard body pressed to her back.

  “I’ve been watching you,” a deep male voice said in her ear, just loud enough to be heard above the music. He ducked his head into her neck, inhaling deeply. “Goddess,” he sighed. “Your scent reached out to me.”

  Twisting her head slightly up and to the right, she looked into the bright emerald green eyes belonging to a very good looking male. He was a bit taller than she was, his pitch-black hair trimmed just at his shirt collar. The top buttons of his crisp, white shirt were undone, showing a fine dusting of chest hair. Her heart pounded as she watched his cheeks dimple when he smiled at her. She could have sworn she had seen him before, felt as if his soul called out to her, pulling her in. His eyes shone and looked like they could see right into the heart of her, drinking her in, gathering her up and making sweet love to her very soul. He was breathtaking.

  Turning the rest of her body and taking the breath she had missed when first seeing him, she felt his hands slide down her body to cup her arse, gently pulling her lower half into his as she threw her arms around his neck. She could feel his hard erection pushing against her clothed core. Damn, he felt good. He smelled of shaving foam, cinnamon, and some kind of hard alcohol...whisky?

  The top of her head just about came to his shoulders, leaving her now very erect and tender nipples rubbing through her dress against his chest. Her pussy dripped fluids, making her small thong rather damp. He ducked his head into her neck, inhaling deeply again while pulling at her waist more, making her squirm. Her hips seemed to move on their own, rubbing against his hard length.

  “Oh, goddess, you smell so fucking great, I want to eat you up,” he said. “Come home with me and let me fuck you all night long.”

  She shivered at his words. She didn’t do things like this! But it only took a few more seconds looking deeply into his eyes to make a decision fueled with drink and lust. It was one night, she didn’t live in the city, and she was going home tomorrow. She wouldn’t see him again, and he smelled so tantalizing, so male. She felt more than horny; she’d take him on the dance floor if it was permitted. So with a shrug and a wave to her friends she walked out of the club with him. What the hell—you only live once.

  “Hey, you look a little green there, Miss White.” Wendy’s voice dragged Amy from her memories.

  “This new paint is making me feel rather icky. It smells quite bad from the old stuff,” she said, stepping off the small child’s chair.

  “It doesn’t smell any different to me,” Wendy replied, taking a deep sniff.

  “Are you sure? Hmm, must be me then.”

  “Hey, fancy going out to the pub for a meal tonight?” Wendy asked with an enthusiastic expression. “You know, celebrate the weekend.”

  “After the last time we had a drink together? Not bloody likely. I’m still getting over it.” It had been a few weeks and she was still feeling below par. “Anyway, I just fancy a night in, a nice cuppa and some cheese on toast.”

  “Suit yourself,” Wendy said, chuckling as she walked away. “You always were a lightweight!”

  Chapter 2

  By the time Monday came around Amy’s queasiness hadn’t gone away. In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse. But she pulled herself out of bed as the annoying alarm went off. She showered and dressed in one of her favorite long, flowing ankle skirts. She pulled her hair up into a tight bun, and with a travel cup of coffee in hand, she headed to the nursery.

  She felt restless as the day went on. Her clothes seemed too tight, the noise of the children seemed too loud, and the scent of the paint was giving her a headache. By the time the day ended all Amy wanted to do was crawl into bed. Wendy looked at her concerned, but Amy waved it off and did just that...went home to bed.

  She dreamed of emerald green eyes that bore into her, reading her, searing her soul with sexual tension. She knew he wanted her. The man she remembered from the night in London.

  The faint dimples on his face dipped as he gave her a beaming smile, showing a full set of perfect, white teeth. He looked her up and down as his hands roamed over her clothed body. He gently lay on top of her, tangling their legs in his red, silk sheets. Dipping his head, he touched his lips to hers, and she breathed in his smoky, cinnamon scent.

  Her body hummed. She wanted more from him. She felt hot, overheated, her skin scorching as his hands roamed her suddenly
naked body. His hand stroked higher, touching the underside of her breasts, then cupping and gently squeezing the nipple. She moaned and arched her back, wanting more. With that little moan he drove his tongue into her mouth, exploring it, entwining it with hers, while he moved his other hand between them and swiped his fingers between her folds.

  “Oh, goddess, you’re so wet and ready for me. I’m going to embed my cock deep inside of you and fuck you hard all night long. Can you feel how hard I am?” He murmured the last bit into her neck as he moved so his cock rubbed against the side of her leg.

  He rubbed her swollen clit with one of his fingers, making her moan more. Again, he pressed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, all the time dry humping her leg. Oh God, she was so close. If he would just insert his fingers as well, she could get off. Just as she thought that, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside her core, his thumb gently circling her clit.

  “So tight. I can’t wait to get my cock into you,” he whispered, kissing along her neck, slowly lowering until she felt his breath on her breast. She arched as he clamped his teeth around her nipple, teasing it, stretching it. “Feeling that cunt of yours clenching my shaft as you come, milking my seed as it bursts into your womb, filling you with my scent. Come for me, baby,” he growled, pulling his face back a bit so she could look firmly into his eyes.

  His fingers pushed deep into her core, and with a slight bend, he pressed against the hidden bundle of nerves. She went off with the added pressure he placed on her clit. The explosion in her pussy spread, setting her nerves afire.