city of dragons 02 - fire storm

by Val St. Crowe

  “Then Finn is lying.”

  “Maybe,” said Lachlan. “Can’t know for sure. But I’m going to do some digging into that.”

  “You need help?” I said. “I can help dig.”

  “Nah,” he said. “Go do hotel-owner things for the afternoon.”

  I cocked my head at him. “You sure?”

  He pointed at me. “Do not kill any more vampires, all right?”

  I laughed. “All right.” I put my hand on the door to the car.

  “Hey, it’s not funny.”

  I rolled my eyes. I opened the car door and started to get out.

  “Um, Penny?”

  I turned back to him.

  He took off his sunglasses. “It, uh, occurs to me that we have never gone out on an official date, and after everything that’s been going on between us, I thought maybe…?”

  I grinned. “You’re asking me out?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned back. “Not tonight, because I’m still hungover as hell, and I need to recover, but tomorrow, maybe? Like a dinner thing. You pick where.”

  “Really?”

  “Or maybe I should pick?” He looked worried. “Is it the man’s job to choose the restaurant?”

  “I’ll pick.” I laughed.

  “So, that’s a yes?”

  “Of course it’s a yes.” I raised my eyebrows. “You really think I was going to say no?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “A date,” I said.

  He tugged me across the car and kissed me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lachlan and I walked out of the Mama’s Cantina, a little Tex-Mex place I’d been meaning to try, but hadn’t had the opportunity until Lachlan asked me. It was Friday evening, and we’d had a very nice, normal-seeming meal with a delicious magaritas. The only downside of this little restaurant was that it had no parking, so we’d had to park on the street a few blocks up.

  We headed back up the sidewalk together, walking next to each other, Lachlan on the outside and me inside.

  I felt happy.

  He looked at me, grinned, and put his arm over my shoulders, pulling my body against his.

  Shivers of goodness shot through me.

  The sun was sinking in the horizon, staining the sky shades of purple and pink.

  Lachlan smelled like aftershave and wine. I pressed close to him as we walked. In that moment, everything seemed very good again. I didn’t know if I’d felt quite this happy and full of hope in a long time.

  He didn’t let go of me until we got to the car. And then he opened my door gallantly.

  I giggled, getting inside.

  He went around the other side of the car and got in next to me. “So,” he said.

  “So,” I said.

  “You want to come back to my place for a drink?”

  “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want the night to end.

  He started the car, and we drove back to his place. I’d only been there once, and I hadn’t been very impressed. But I figured, if he were inviting me back there, he must have made some improvements, like acquiring furniture.

  I was wrong.

  The living room was still completely empty. There was nothing in the kitchen except a card table and a single chair.

  Lachlan opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. “Sorry this place is so, uh, sparse.”

  I accepted the beer. “It’s only that there’s nowhere to sit.”

  He pointed. “I have a porch. It’s screened in. There are chairs there.”

  The screened-in porch was more luxurious than the rest of the apartment. There were two potted plants out there, one that was at least four feet tall and gave the place an almost tropical ambiance. There was an outdoor couch swathed in sheets and cushions. And two outdoor chairs flanking a metal table. They were nice quality.

  He shrugged. “This is what I got during the divorce.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “She knew I liked the outdoor furniture, so she made me take it. She wanted to give me more stuff, but I didn’t want any of it.” He settled in one of the chairs. “We never used this stuff, anyway, so it doesn’t much remind me of her. Or of Hailey. So…” He looked at his shoes.

  We were quiet.

  “Well, it’s nice,” I said finally. “The furniture.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I sat down next to him. I took a drink of my beer.

  “I should maybe get some furniture,” he mused.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “It’s only that I don’t really spend much time here. I just go to work and then crash.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  “And I guess we could always go hang out at your place, so maybe it doesn’t matter.”

  “It would be nice if you at least had a couch,” I said.

  “I have a bed,” he said. “Not that I’m implying that we would… use it.” He shut his eyes, shook his head, and took a drink of beer. “Forget I said anything.”

  I snorted. I tried to hold the laugh back, but I couldn’t. It tumbled out, and it came through my nose.

  He laughed too. “I guess what I’m saying, Penelope Caspian, is do you want to go steady?”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, only if you promise to let me wear your class ring with yarn wrapped around the back of it.”

  “I’ll go see if I can dig that up.”

  “What? You have no couch, but you have your high school class ring?”

  “I think so,” he said. “Oh, I was big man on campus back then. Go Bronchos.”

  “I can’t even imagine you in high school.”

  “I was mature for my age back then,” he said. “Now, I’ve just gotten lax.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Yes? What?”

  I smacked him. “Yes, I’ll go steady with you. Or are you taking it back?”

  He rubbed his arm where I’d hit him. “Ow. I’m not taking it back.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Yes, very badly.” He gave me mock puppy dog eyes.

  I got up. “Let me see.”

  He pulled me into his lap.

  My stomach felt fluttery. I let out a giggle. “What are you doing?”

  He threaded a hand into my hair and held my head in place while he kissed me.

  I shut my eyes.

  He pulled back a little, gazed into my eyes. “This is going to be good. We can do this.”

  “Of course we can,” I murmured.

  And he was kissing me again.

  * * *

  I woke up cold, and I felt around for Lachlan in the bed. But I couldn’t find him, so I opened my eyes.

  The bed was empty. His room itself was depressingly bare, containing nothing but the bed, which was covered in a black comforter and had only one pillow, which he’d let me use, to his credit.

  Where the hell was he?

  If he had abandoned me in his house and decided to take back everything that he’d said the night before…

  But the door to the bedroom burst open and Lachlan came in carrying a brown paper bag and a drink container with two coffees. “Breakfast,” he said. “I don’t have anything in the house.”

  “Thank you,” I said, grinning. I shouldn’t have worried.

  He knelt down and set everything on the floor. He handed me the coffee.

  “What’s in there?” I gestured at the bag.

  “Egg sandwiches,” he said. “That okay?”

  “Yum,” I replied.

  He handed one over.

  We ate half on the bed and half on the floor. I wore one of Lachlan’s t-shirts, and it felt kind of like camping out in a house. If he wasn’t so damned charming, maybe this would have bothered me.

  But he would grin at me, and he’d dazzle me with his eyes and his dimpled chin. I couldn’t be bothered.

  “So, what are we doing today?” I said. “More digging on Joseph?”

  “I ran into a brick w
all with that,” he said. “I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  He chewed on a big bite of egg sandwich, and then swallowed. “Look, we might as well get it over with.”

  “See, I was afraid you were going to say that,” I said.

  “I don’t want to see him either. But maybe he’ll have a rock solid alibi or something, and we’ll just cross him off the list, and it’ll all be over,” Lachlan said.

  “Maybe,” I sighed.

  “The truth is,” said Lachlan, “we’re never going to be ready to see Alastair.”

  “No,” I said quietly. “We’re not.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I was sincerely hoping that Alastair would look less attractive to me than usual. After all, I’d had sex (twice) with Lachlan, so that should mean that I had made a clean break, and that Alastair was cleansed from my system.

  No such luck.

  If anything, it was worse. I was tender in all those just-made-love-to spots. Certain muscles that I wasn’t used to using were sore. Overall, I walked into the room and looked at Alastair, and my whole body felt like it was starting to catch fire.

  There was a smoldering in all my secret places.

  I took in his powerful arms and broad shoulders and tanned skin. He stood in the doorway to his house, and he looked at me with a mixture of disgust and desire. I knew the feeling.

  “Penelope,” he said in a low voice. “Pardon me if I’m not happy to see you.”

  “Trust me,” said Lachlan, “we’d be happy if we never saw you again either, Mr. Cooper. We’re just here about a case.”

  I peered around the door into Alastair’s place. There was a surf board leaning against the dolphin mirror in the foyer. I focused on it because I wanted to focus on anything that wasn’t Alastair. I couldn’t handle looking at him, because the arousal in my body was starting to gather like a storm, and I desperately wanted my lips on his skin, my hands tangled in his hair, my legs wrapped around his narrow hips. It was horrible. It was even worse feeling that while standing next to Lachlan.

  I tried to focus on Lachlan, but all I could see was Alastair. All I could think about was Alastair.

  I remembered peeling away Alastair’s jeans, exposing his dusky skin, his muscles that just kept going, his black silk boxers that contained him—hard and ready for me.

  “You don’t surf,” I blurted out.

  Alastair looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

  I pointed. “That surf board. You don’t surf.”

  Lachlan looked around Alastair. He squinted at the surf board. He tugged his phone out of his pocket and scrolled to the picture of Fletcher. “That looks like Fletcher’s surf board.” He showed the picture to Alastair.

  “Yeah, I got this board on Fletcher’s recommendation,” said Alastair.

  “What?” I said. “You don’t surf.”

  “Sometimes I do,” said Alastair.

  “You hate the ocean,” I said.

  He looked me up and down. “I hate you, you fucking bitch.”

  “Mr. Cooper,” said Lachlan through clenched teeth.

  “Say what you need to say and get out of here,” said Alastair to Lachlan. “You’re fucking my wife, and it’s amazing that I’ve controlled myself thus far.”

  “I’m not your wife,” I muttered. There was a ball of tightness in my core, and it was gathering with every moment. God, I wanted that man.

  He turned to me, gazing deep into my eyes. “You’re worthless unless you’re naked, cunt.”

  “That’s enough,” said Lachlan.

  I shuddered, my tongue darting out to moisten my lips.

  Alastair’s gaze was penetrating. “Unbutton your shirt, Penny. Nice and slow. I want to see your tits. Show me.”

  “Stop,” said Lachlan.

  To my horror, I began to obey Alastair. My fingers came up and started to undo the first button on my shirt. Then the next.

  Lachlan’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” he said to me in a strained voice.

  I shook my head at him. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted Alastair so damned bad. I couldn’t control myself.

  “Wait in the car,” Lachlan said to me.

  I nodded. Probably a good idea. I ran to the car, threw open the door, and launched myself inside. But… once inside, I still couldn’t stop. I kept unbuttoning my shirt, as I watched Lachlan and Alastair talk.

  When my shirt was completely unbuttoned, I peeled it over my shoulders.

  I reached back and unsnapped my bra and pulled it off.

  Alastair eyed me over Lachlan’s shoulder, leering at the way I’d exposed myself. I wanted to cover myself, but I couldn’t.

  What the hell was happening to me? It was as if I had completely lost my own will. There had been times when I had felt so turned on by my bond to Alastair that it had been nearly painful, but it had never made me do something against my volition before.

  Lachlan turned and came back to the car. He saw that I was half-naked, and his face twitched.

  I started to cry. Tears started sliding out of my eyes. I was terrified.

  Alastair was still standing at the door, gazing at my naked skin, a nasty smile on his face. He looked demented.

  Lachlan yanked open the door to the car, picked up my shirt and thrust it at me, covering me.

  I fought him, trying to move the shirt away. I had to show Alastair. I had to let him see.

  Alastair’s eyes were dancing in delight. He shut the door.

  For a minute, Lachlan and I were still locked in the struggle, and then it was as if it all passed, and I was far enough away from Alastair that the bond lost its power. I collapsed into sobs, clutched my shirt tight against my body.

  Lachlan looked at the door where Alastair had come from. He looked at me. He shook his head. Wordlessly, he started the car and pulled out, peeling out onto the road and away.

  * * *

  “What the hell was that?” Lachlan’s voice was shaking. He’d driven for about two miles before pulling over. He’d pulled into one of the streets that had beach access and miraculously, there had been a parking space. That’s where we were now. Twenty feet from the ocean, sitting in Lachlan’s car.

  I hiccuped. My sobs had passed, but I still felt completely wrecked. “I couldn’t help myself,” I whispered.

  “So…” Lachlan wasn’t looking at me. “So, it will always be like that, won’t it? You’ll see him, you’ll do whatever he says?”

  “It’s never been like that,” I said. “I’ve never done something I didn’t want to do. I don’t know what happened. I lost control. He made me do that.”

  “But you want him?” Lachlan looked at me.

  I looked away. I wanted to put my bra back on, my shirt. But to move the shirt would expose me again, and that made me feel too vulnerable.

  “What were you thinking about when we were talking to him?” he said hoarsely.

  I shook my head. “Don’t ask me that.”

  He sucked in a noisy breath. “Because you were thinking about… what? Touching him? Kissing him? Fucking him?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  We were quiet.

  He leaned his head back against the head rest. “Shit.”

  “You knew this about me,” I said. “I told you this about me. You knew—”

  “That night he came and knocked you around and beat me all to hell? Were you hot for him that night?”

  “Lachlan—”

  “No, what’s it like? Explain it to me. This man is a monster, and you’re doing a strip tease for him.”

  “Please,” I whispered. “You know I can’t help it.”

  Lachlan’s voice was ugly. “Are you wet for him right now?”

  This was starting to piss me off. I drew myself up, glaring at him. “I’m drenched.”

  He looked away.

  I grabbed his hand, putting it under the waist of my pants, urging him downward. “You want to feel
? You want to see what happens to me?”

  He tugged his hand away as if my skin burned him.

  I started yanking my bra back on. Damned if I was having this conversation without clothes on. “You want to compare whether I get that wet for you or not? Maybe you should just go and have a god damned dick-measuring contest with him.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair.”

  “You know what’s not fair?” I said. “What’s not fair is having to feel this for a man I despise. What’s not fair is being inexplicably drawn to someone—something—like that.” I started to button my shirt again. “But by all means, Lachlan, let’s make this about you.”

  He didn’t answer.

  I didn’t say anything either. I busied myself with buttoning up my shirt the rest of the way.

  Finally, Lachlan swallowed. His voice was even and low and a little raw. “You can’t expect me to like this.”

  “I’m not saying—”

  “It’s human nature, Penny,” he said. “You were in my bed last night. I feel…” He rubbed his forehead. “Damn it, I don’t mean to sound like a caveman, but you’re mine. You’re not his.”

  I felt a pleasant little surge inside me. “It’s okay if you sound like a caveman,” I whispered, smiling a little.

  He glanced at me, smiling too. But then he looked away. “Except it’s not true. You are his.”

  “No,” I said.

  He let out a slow breath. “It’s, um, a lot to take is all. For me. It feels like hell. I’m not saying that what you’re feeling isn’t worse. I get that. But I didn’t expect it to be like…” He shook his head.

  “I’m not his,” I said. “I hate Alastair.”

  He just put the keys back in the ignition and started the car.

  “Lachlan, damn it, I am not his.”

  He backed out of the space and then pulled the car forward.

  “Say something,” I said.

  He stared ahead at the road. He drove.

  I looked out the window. Part of me wanted to start crying again. The other part of me wanted to start breathing fire. “Are you going to just sit there and sulk forever?”

  “I’m not sulking,” he said, but he sounded sulky.