Fire In His Kiss: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Romance (Fireblood Dragon Book 2)

by Ruby Dixon

  Maybe I’m allergic to dragon semen. Wouldn’t that just figure.

  DAKH

  My Sasha. I roll her name around in my mind as I return from my hunt to find her sleeping. She is curled up in her bed, beads of sweat on her brow. Her scent is heavily mixed with mine, so the fires must be raging through her. I move to lie next to her and pull her against me, wanting to feel her close to me.

  Even for the short time I was gone, I missed her. Of course, I cannot take her hunting with me, but the sight of her, safe in her nest, fills me with intense pleasure.

  My mate.

  Her small form fits in my arms perfectly, and now that our minds are connected, I can feel that her wounds are hurting her. The fire moves through them as well, burning away impurities. Dragons heal quickly, and we do not sicken like humans do, and the fire works to fix my mate and make her stronger so she can bear my young.

  It never occurred to me that Sasha would not enjoy being my mate, however. I have been troubled by this since I touched her, and my thoughts were a chaotic, muddy pool as I flew over the ruins and hunted. Now that I have returned to her side and resumed my two-legged form, I am able to think clearly. Sasha did not wish for me to touch her, but when I rubbed her body with the scented cream, her pleasure scent flowed. She enjoyed it after all.

  I did not imagine her scent. And while she might not have enjoyed all of my touches, that does not matter. If she enjoyed one touch, I will learn others so she will come to look forward to all of my touches. I will not give up. I will not despair. Like Kael said, she wants to be caressed and coaxed. I was too stubborn to listen then, but I will take his advice now.

  Whatever my mate needs from me, I will give her.

  15

  SASHA

  The next morning, I wake up to see that Dakh is asleep beside me, his big arm thrown over my shoulders. I’m tucked against his chest, and my hair’s damp with sweat. I feel a little hungover, all wrung out and exhausted. Am I sick? I slide out of his grip and get out a small mirror, examining my neck. The bites that were there last night are gone. My cheeks are flushed with fever, but other than that, I look all right.

  “Sasha,” Dakh murmurs. He strokes a hand down my arm, a silent question in his gaze.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him with a faint smile. “Just feel kind of crappy.” I keep the cheery expression on my face, though I’m watching him warily as he gets up. I know some guys get morning wood and want to have sex. Is he going to be one of them?

  But Dakh gets to his feet and pads away, and I sink back under the blankets, relieved.

  He returns a few minutes later, and I’m surprised to see that he’s got a few items in his hands. One is the mug I’ve been drinking out of, and when he hands it to me, I realize it’s full of fresh, cold water. He watches me to make sure I take a drink, and when I sit up, he sits on the ground next to me and puts down a few more items, regarding me as he does: a can of beans, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of crackers that are probably stale as hell.

  He’s taking care of me. Despite my mixed feelings about him, I melt at that. “Thank you, Dakh. This is really sweet of you.”

  He touches my cheek and then tucks the blankets closer around me, then hands me one of my paperbacks. “Sasha.” He points at the bed, and even with that one word, I understand him. I need to stay in bed and recover today. I give him a genuine smile. “I guess I can do that.”

  I drink my water, and as I do, I wonder if there’s a way I can make coffee or hot tea. Oooh. That’s something to try for the future, I think. For now, I gulp down everything in my cup, and Dakh immediately takes it and leaves with it for a refill. I skip the can of beans and inspect my crackers and peanut butter. The crackers are terribly stale, but I spread peanut butter on them with my fingers and eat anyhow. It’s the best thing I think I’ve ever tasted. When Dakh returns with my drink, I take a few more sips and then lie back down again.

  He pushes my book into my hands, and I chuckle at that. “Never thought someone would demand that I read.” But I pop it open and return to my place, happy to lose myself in a book for a few hours.

  Of course, it’s a little disconcerting that Dakh is hovering nearby. I’m aware of him even as I try to concentrate on my book. When he climbs into the bed with me, my senses go on high alert, but he only moves to sit next to me, and his hand strokes through my hair, petting it. Which is…kind of nice.

  For a girl who’s sworn she hates to be touched, I sure do seem to be enjoying all these touches lately. Maybe it’s not the touches I hate, but what comes with them—sex. But getting my hair stroked is all right. When Dakh indicates that I should put my head in his lap, I do, and he continues to run his fingers through my curls. That’s all he does, though. He doesn’t do more, doesn’t push for more, doesn’t even talk. He seems content to hang out with me, as if he knows I don’t feel well and need to rest.

  It’s surprising, but it’s also pleasant. How long has it been since I’ve had a day where I could stay in bed? Too long. I’m determined to enjoy it. I smooth my hand over one of the pages in my book and go back to reading.

  DAKH

  Sasha’s thoughts are full of pleasure. She is still wary every time I move, but she lets me pet her hair and touch her face as she stares at the thing she calls a “book” and loses herself in its story. And her pleasure makes me happy.

  I do not remember things like “books” from my world. My vague memories are misty and polluted by ravens, but I do remember some things. Sitting at the feet of the elders and hearing glorious tales of battle is one of them, though I do not recall any of the specific stories. Perhaps that is like what Sasha feels when she looks at her book. It is telling a story in her head, instead of aloud. And because I am in her thoughts, I listen in on the story as well.

  It is a strange one, full of humans and things called “ships” that float on the water. One human male courts a female, but because she is angry at him, he decides to woo her. This has my full interest, because I, too, wish to learn how to woo my female.

  The door to Ophelia’s cabin opened up with a bang. She sat up in bed, clutching her nightgown to her heaving bosom.

  What is this? I pause in my stroking of Sasha’s hair, fascinated. The words paint a story in her mind. I find this fascinating. More than that, I can feel how intrigued my mate is by the story. I settle in, curious.

  Dirk swept inside, his gaze raking over Ophelia. In his hand, he carried a large bouquet of roses. “You asked me to show you my love? Well, I shall do so.”

  Ophelia gasped, pleased. “Flowers? For me?”

  “Only the best for you, my dearest.” He held the flowers out to her. She took them, and then he swept her into his arms, carrying her out of the ship’s cabin. He moved out onto the deck with her, and she blushed to hear all of the ship’s hands cheering them on. But Dirk did not stop. He continued off the gangplank with her and walked to the pier, and then onward. Ophelia swooned in his arms, aroused by his strength and the way he had swept her off her feet. So romantic. It made her hungry for him just knowing how strong he was.

  I snort at that. I have carried my Sasha many times and she has never viewed it as romantic. This story is foolish.

  Sasha pauses in her reading and glances up at me. “What?”

  I stroke her hair.

  “You just snorted. Is something wrong?”

  I caress her cheek, acting as if I do not understand her words. “Sasha.”

  She gives me a strange look and then settles back in, returning to her book. “Strange dragon,” she mutters.

  Dirk carried her a ways away from the pirate ship and onto the sandy shore. There, in the distance, he’d set up a picnic blanket, full of delicious foods arranged on a lovely blanket. How thoughtful he was! How caring! To think that Dirk had done all of this for her, right down to the flowers. She felt loved and cosseted. She felt like he truly cared for her to make such a show of things. And it made her want to put her arms around his neck and kiss him
until all of her worries about the future went away. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her.

  My interest perks. The male puts a blanket on the ground for the female and she wishes to mate with him? The mental images I am receiving from Sasha’s mind seem to agree with this. Is this another human ritual I have perhaps missed?

  “My beauty,” Dirk told Ophelia as he laid her down on the blanket. “I have prepared a picnic feast for you, with all of the most delicious treats I could imagine, but none of them compare to the taste of your lips.”

  “Dirk!” she cried. “How I love you! Take me in your arms and never let me go, ever again.”

  In her mind, my Sasha sighs happily. She is pleased by this strange story, and as it goes on, I can see from the visual in her mind that the humans do, indeed, begin to mate. The descriptions continue, and I find myself getting aroused at the way my Sasha is picturing them—and how it affects her. When Dirk pulls the panties off of Ophelia and places his mouth between her thighs and Sasha gets excited?

  It makes it very clear to me what I must do.

  I must give my mate a picnic. I will find a shore, some flowers, and some food to lay down on a blanket. Then I will wait for her to press her mouth to mine and demand that I mate with her.

  This sounds perfect.

  The next morning, as I hunt my meal, I think about my mate’s picnic. It must be just right, I decide. I want my Sasha to be so pleased with her picnic that she cannot help but fall into my arms, her mating scent overwhelming.

  Yes, I like that idea.

  I start with the colorful plants she refers to as “flowers.” I can find none that match the visual image she had in her mind. Most of the plants are withered and brown, either from dragon-fire or the chill in the air. I do find a bush that is green, the leaves glossy. Surely this is the same thing. Pleased, I dig it up with my claws and carry it as I look for the next item. Food is simple. They ate a sort of bird in the story. I snap up one of the passing birds and swallow it, testing. It is no more than a morsel, but I suppose it is tasty if one does not mind feathers. I catch up with another group of them and flush one out of the air with fire. It drops like a stone to the ground, and I scoop it up.

  Human females must be easy to please, I decide. This venture is not so difficult. Though “easy to please” is not how I would describe my Sasha. I study the roasted bird I carry in one claw, and the bush in the other. Perhaps I am getting this wrong? Mentally, I review the images I have in my mind after Sasha’s story. Plants. Food. Picnic. No, I am correct.

  I fly off in search of the perfect spot to set up my picnic. Somewhere with water.

  16

  SASHA

  I yawn, stretching as I wake up from my nap. Whatever flu that seems to have knocked me out yesterday has passed, thank goodness. I feel much better today. Less achy, less tired, and I’m hungry again. I grab a sleeve of stale crackers and nibble on them as I sit up, looking around for my dragon. The store is quiet, and that means I’m all by myself at the moment. He must be out hunting.

  Weird how I feel a little lonely at that realization. I must be needier than I thought. After Claudia got exiled, though, and Amy disappeared to go hunt for her sister, I felt abandoned and alone. I hated that feeling, more than anything. It’s not that I need people to feed me or take care of me, but…I want to matter to someone. Maybe that’s why I feel emotionally attached to the dragon even though he should be the enemy. When he’s around, he acts like I’m the only thing in his world. It’s…nice.

  Of course, now that we’ve had sex, he’s flying off and leaving me alone, and I wonder if this means he’s one foot out the door.

  I shouldn’t care about that. Really. But it would just be another checkmark in a long list of Sasha-abandoners. After a while, you start wondering what’s so terrible about you that makes everyone leave, and that’s not a good feeling.

  I get dressed in a fresh pair of panties, a new bra, and another sundress and some sandals. Since I have a whole store full of clothing to use, I don’t plan on wearing anything a second time if I can help it. I straighten up my little bedroom area and sigh happily as I put away my books. Yesterday was so nice. I read and ate snacks in bed like I didn’t have a care in the world. When was the last time I had a full day just to be lazy and relax while someone else took care of me? Dakh waited on me like I was a princess and stroked my hair and skin while I read, just because he wanted to be near me.

  I…wish he didn’t want sex. He’d be a great companion otherwise.

  Of course, if he didn’t want sex, he wouldn’t have kidnapped me, so I guess there’s no use banging that drum. I tidy things up and then pull out a book of crossword puzzles, glancing back up at the entrance of the store. Still no Dakh. Huh. Normally he hunts quickly and then returns just as quickly. I thought it was because he didn’t like leaving me alone.

  What if…what if he’s not coming back?

  I swallow hard at the thought. What if I’m not worth the hassle anymore? I shake my head to rid it of such negative thoughts. Emma wouldn’t give a shit if she was abandoned. Neither would Claudia, come to think of it. Both of them would work hard to survive and kick ass no matter what. I need to be more like them.

  Emma. I tap my pen on the crossword book, thinking about the lone woman. She hasn’t come back despite the fact that it’s been days. I thought—hoped—that she’d at least scope the place out and see if we’d abandoned it. I wouldn’t mind having another person to talk to.

  Especially if Dakh’s abandoned me. But I don’t like to think about that.

  Maybe Emma’s still around? I get to my feet and head through the store, looking for the stationary aisle. I find it and then find some pads of paper, and sit down on the floor to compose a note to her.

  Emma,

  It’s me, Sasha, the one who took over your store. I’m still here with the dragon, but I promise, promise he won’t hurt you. He’s really nice, and he’s been good to me, but I understand if you’re afraid. If you want to meet to talk, or if you need some supplies and are scared to come back, let me know what you need, ok? I’m including some paper and an extra pen in this envelope. Please write back if you see this.

  Your friend,

  Sasha

  I put the letter and the supplies in a big envelope, seal it, and then write EMMA huge on the front and head to the store entrance. I’m going to tape it to the window and hope that she sees it.

  Of course, the moment I finish attaching my envelope on the door, I hear the heavy beat of dragon wings and look up. My heart pounds until I see the dragon do a familiar whirl and dip in the sky that I’ve come to think of as Dakh’s. Thunder rumbles overhead, and the skies look ominously dark. I’m a little concerned, because should Dakh even be flying in poor weather? Or do dragons not have to worry about lightning? I stay close to the front doors, hugging my busted arm and watching as he comes in for a landing. I want to ask if everything’s okay, but of course I can’t. He doesn’t speak English.

  The moment Dakh’s clawed feet touch the ground, he turns to his human form and bounds toward me, a toothy grin on his face. He looks so very pleased with himself that I can’t help but respond, and I begin to smile, too. As he approaches, he extends his hand in my direction.

  “What is it?” I ask, and gesture at the sky just as thunder rumbles again. “It’s about to rain.”

  I go to put my hand in his, but Dakh immediately changes forms, and then I’m being snatched up by the dragon and flown through the stormy skies. I swallow my cry of distress and cling to his claws. Not this again. I’m so tired of being hauled around like a piece of meat. And I hope we’re going back to the store and this isn’t the last time I’ll see it, because I’m not prepared. I force myself to push the negative thoughts away and hold on to Dakh’s claws. At the end of the day, I’m not in control. Best to just hang on and see where he takes me.

  The rain starts pouring within minutes, and by the time Dakh lands, I’m
soaked to the bone and shivering. “What the hell?” I tell him as he releases me and I stagger forward. I push wet hair out of my face, and my cute sundress is soggy and clinging to my body like a cold blanket. “Why are we here?”

  Dakh transforms to human form, and I yelp as he grabs me in his arms, hauling me against him. I fling my good arm around his neck to hold on, mystified. What is going on? Why is he carrying me in his human form? Why are we out here in the rain?

  Where the heck are we?

  I squint through the driving rain, trying to figure out the location. Like most of Old Dallas, there’s a couple of wrecked cars in the wild grasses, one with a tree growing through the sunroof. The area is shrubby and unkempt, and in the distance, I can see a broken fast-food sign. It’s like we’re in a field…somewhere. But where and why?

  I’m even more mystified when Dakh arrives at what looks like a murky, scummy pond. Well, ‘pond’ might be too kind of a word for it. With no one to run the city’s water systems, some sewer lines and man-made lakes have gone dry, and new ones have sprung up from leaks, turning low-lying areas into swampy miasmas. This looks to be the latter.

  I swear I don’t know how this dragon’s mind works.

  Dakh sets me down gently at the edge of a messy-looking…something. I wipe water from my eyes and stare down. It’s a long square of what was once white material. It…kind of looks like a huge car-dealership flag? But why it’s neatly folded up here on the banks of this greenish pond, I have no idea. It’s also completely soaked, thanks to the rain. I’m mystified as to what I’m supposed to think, and I turn to give the dragon a confused look. “Dakh?”

  He gestures that I should wait, and races off. A moment later, he brings me…a bush. Not just any bush, but a bush with the roots dripping mud everywhere. He thrusts it out to me, a proud look on his face.