by Tessa Adams
“I’m here,” he answered, lifting his face to look her in the eyes. “I’ll always be here.”
“Please,” she whimpered, barely recognizing her own voice. When had she ever begged for anything? The answer came to her: never. But he had a power over her that couldn’t be denied. Outside the window, a sudden sandstorm picked up, the wind whipping in a frenzy.
He reached between them and flicked a finger once, twice, over her clit.
She whimpered, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, her body wildly arching against his. He plunged into her as she came, moving hard and fast against her. Intensifying her orgasm, building toward his own.
Leaning down, he drew her nipple into his mouth. Sucked hard as he continued moving inside her. He was close, so close he thought he’d explode any second. But he wanted to make her come again, wanted to see her face as it went through her, wanted to be inside her when it happened this time.
Her hands were tangled in his hands as her body shuddered over and over again. “Please, please.”
“That’s it, baby. Come for me again. I have to feel you.” His words were strangled as he moved faster and faster, loving the warm, wet feel of her muscles clenching around his cock. He lowered his mouth to her breast, sucked hard as he reached between them and stroked her.
Phoebe whimpered, her body bucking wildly against him as one last orgasm took over. Grabbing her hips, he tilted them until she was fully open to him.
He was going to lose it; he couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to—With a groan, he came. The world went dim and he was lost, totally, to the insane pleasure overloading his senses. He was dimly conscious of Phoebe’s own cries, of her body convulsing again and again, milking him as he emptied himself inside her.
When it was over, he collapsed on top of her—breathing in heavy, ragged gasps. He knew he was too heavy, but at the moment, he couldn’t summon the will to care. Or to move. Her arms wrapped around him so sweetly that for a moment—just a moment—he could pretend that this was real. That she was his and he wouldn’t have to give her back.
In those moments, lying in her arms, listening to the soothing beat of her heart, he found surcease from the demons that chased his every waking hour for more years than he cared to admit.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Time passed. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. Dylan didn’t know which, nor did he particularly care when Phoebe’s nude body was pressed so sweetly to his.
His arm was burning again—damn Silus and his fucking black magic—but he didn’t try to move it to a more comfortable spot. Phoebe’s head was resting on his bicep, and he would suffer much worse pain than risk disturbing her.
She felt so right, like she belonged in his arms. Part of him wanted to hold on to her so tightly that she could never leave. So tightly that no one could ever ask him to let her go.
His dragon all but purred at the thought, nearly as drunk on sensation as he was. That, more than anything else, had his lower back clenching while a ball of ice started rolling around his stomach.
She isn’t dragon, he reminded himself fiercely, even as his fingers tangled proprietarily in her hair. She isn’t my mate, he told himself, even as his free hand stroked her from her collarbone to her navel. I can’t keep her, he warned himself, even as he curled his body possessively around hers.
Maybe she wouldn’t stay with him forever, but she was here now, and for as long as she was with him, she would be his. For the first time in three centuries, his hunt for a mate could wait.
As if she sensed his disquiet, Phoebe raised her head and looked at him with those sapphire eyes that nearly broke his heart. “That was completely unacceptable. You know that, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Sorry. We can try again later, see if I can measure up to your high standards. Although I’ve got to tell you, I’m not sure how much better I can get.”
“Practice makes perfect.”
He shifted a little so his hand rested on her perfectly round ass. “That’s my motto.” He nuzzled her neck.
She laughed, then pushed him away. Jackknifing to a sitting position, she pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
He remained stretched out—or as stretched out as he could get in the back of a Range Rover—and regarded her with cautious eyes. Was it time to pay the piper already? The ice in his stomach somehow got colder.
“I won’t be bullied, Dylan.”
He sat up then. “I would never bully you.”
“Oh, really? And what would you call that whole beat-your-chest example of male dominance you just put Quinn and me through?”
“He was touching you. I didn’t like that.”
“Actually, I was touching him.”
“I noticed that, too.” The dragon flexed its talons.
“In a purely platonic way. He was upset; I was offering a little support. That’s it.”
He should be glad she cared enough about his clan to comfort them when they were upset. He was glad, he told himself. He just had to get used to it.
The dragon snarled, and he couldn’t help agreeing. Like hell he would adjust to another man’s hands on his woman, his mouth only inches from her. Platonic, nonplatonic—she should be grateful he hadn’t ripped Quinn to pieces. Friend or not, sentry or not, no one got that close to Phoebe. He wouldn’t allow it.
Another skitter of unease ran up his spine at the possessiveness he was feeling, but he ignored it. Dragons were notoriously jealous creatures to begin with. Add in his complicated feelings for Phoebe, it was no wonder he was going a little around the bend. It didn’t mean anything—he wouldn’t let it mean anything.
“Well?”
He raised a brow. “Well, what?”
“Are you going to say anything? Apologize?”
He studied her for long seconds. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“It’s the best you’re going to get, so take it or leave it.”
It was her turn to stare at him, cerulean eyes blazing like lasers. “You can be a real jerk, you know that?”
“Yes.”
His simple acceptance seemed to throw her for a loop and she fell silent, but she kept looking at him with those astonishing eyes of hers. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, could see the moment when she decided that pursuing the argument wasn’t worth it.
Despite that, he was still completely blindsided when she asked, “Don’t you think it’s time you told me exactly what I’m dealing with here? What are you? And don’t lie, because I know you’re not completely human. Or at least, not only human.”
Phoebe didn’t even blink as she threw out questions that should have sent any normal woman screaming into the night. Questions that would have had her worrying about her own sanity if she hadn’t seen—and documented—every strange thing that had happened since she met Dylan.
But the look on his face said she was on the right track. It also said he wasn’t taking her questions nearly as nonchalantly as she was trying to make them seem.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” His voice was careful. Not the holy-shit, I’m-in-bed-with-a-psycho-woman careful that should have been there if her accusations were off base, but the I-don’tknow-what-to-say-to-that careful that told her she was right.
“Come on, Dylan. You set me to work on this disease, tell me you’re different—but not how different—and then throw me into the deep end of the pool. And you’re sleeping with me. Don’t you think you owe me the truth?”
She was suddenly cold, despite the fact that Dylan was putting out enough heat to rival a supernova, so she reached for her medical bag and the extra set of clothes she kept in it in case of a lab emergency. She figured Dylan ripping off her clothes qualified.
The silence between them was absolute as she slid into her jeans and shrugged on the blue tank top.
&nbs
p; When she was done, and he still hadn’t answered her, she continued. “I’m not blind, nor am I stupid. Do you think I don’t hear the animalistic sounds you and the others make? Do you think I haven’t seen the claws at the end of your hands? That I was so blind I didn’t see what happened to Gabe in Lana’s hospital room?
“Just tell me, Dylan. It can’t be any more fantastical or frightening than what I’ve been imagining these past few days.”
He still didn’t answer, his lack of response going on so long that she began to wonder if he’d decided not to talk to her at all.
As she focused on the pale blue of her toenails, she wondered whether she had blown it. Should she have hinted a little more at what she suspected, instead of just hitting him with it? But she wasn’t used to beating around the bush—what you saw was what you got when it came to Phoebe, and she just expected other people to be the same.
Not everything is in the open, the sly voice in the back of her head mocked her. She was hiding from something, had been hiding from it her whole life. It was hard to blame Dylan when—
She shoved the thoughts away as she always did, told herself that she had no idea what was going on. That she wasn’t hiding anything. But the lies were getting harder to believe, especially when she’d been feeling different lately, like something wasn’t quite right inside of her.
“I don’t know where you want me to start.” Dylan’s voice was soft, disjointed and completely unlike him. His sudden insecurity was obvious, even in the dark car.
Reaching behind her, she flicked on the overhead light so that he could see her face. She wanted him to be able to look at her, wanted him to know that she wasn’t judging him, no matter what he told her.
“Would it be easier if I told you what I’ve observed?”
His eyes met hers, deep and dark and so lost that for a second she wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him to forget about the whole thing. She didn’t need to know. But that, too, would be a lie, because she did need the answers—because of the disease and because of their growing relationship, wherever it ended up.
“I’m different. My clan is . . . different.” The words were jerky. “We live a long time, when not ravaged by disease. A lot longer than regular humans. And we . . . shift.”
She thought of the talons punching through Gabe’s boots, thought of the claws she’d felt Dylan rake softly down her back while they made love, and did her best not to be afraid. It wasn’t easy when her heart was pounding like a metronome at top speed.
“What do you mean by shift?”
Dylan took a deep breath. “There’s an animal inside each of us. When we want to, we can become that animal.”
“Like a werewolf?” she demanded, her mind whirling with the confirmation of the strange thoughts she’d been having for days.
“Not exactly. It’s not a wolf and it’s not ruled by the moon. We can shift whenever we want, and most times, except under incredible emotional strain, we have complete control over it.”
Her palms were a little damp as she thought back to the blood sample she’d first seen in her lab, and the hundreds of samples she’d looked at since. The large reptilian cells that seemed to mingle with the normal human cells, the strange orange color that bled into the dark reds and blacks she was used to seeing.
“A reptile?” she asked, forcing her voice to a steadiness she didn’t quite feel. She wasn’t sure how she felt about sleeping with a lizard.
He took a deep breath, blanked his face and eyes as if waiting for her derision. “A dragon.”
The strange feeling inside her exploded at Dylan’s words, throwing her so far off balance that she couldn’t say a word. She struggled with it for long seconds, seconds she knew she should have been using to speak to Dylan.
Asking questions.
Demanding answers.
Offering support.
But ripples of pain were working their way through her, a pain she’d never felt before. For a few minutes, she didn’t even have the breath to speak.
“Phoebe!” When it finally penetrated her stupor, Dylan’s voice was stronger, testier than it had been. More pissed off, and she was glad. She didn’t know what to do with him when he was uncertain. “Are you going to say something?”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“I want to see you change. Shift,” she quickly corrected herself. “Whatever it is you do, I want to see it.”
He sat up and pulled her closer until they were looking straight into each other’s eyes—no pretense, no hiding. “I’m not lying to you,” he asserted. “I really am a dragon.”
She believed him. No matter how stupid or asinine or insane his explanation sounded, she believed him. Because blood didn’t lie, and she’d seen the evidence for herself.
Still, she needed to see it. To see him. “I’m a scientist. I want to watch it happen with my own eyes.”
His mouth compressed into a tight line. “This isn’t about science. I didn’t bring you here to study us like lab rats.”
His words got her back up, even after she’d promised herself that she would be calm. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Really? It sounded like it to me.” He jerked open the tailgate and climbed out of the SUV without bothering with his clothes.
“Then I’m sorry. What you’re saying is so fantastical, so amazing, so astounding that I need to see it. Just once. Just so I know that we’re both not crazy.”
She climbed out after him, laid a soothing hand on his very tense bicep. “You’re my lover, and there’s this whole amazing part of you that I know nothing about. Is it so wrong for me to want to see it?” She toyed with the sapphire on the chain around his neck as she waited for his answer. Dylan had called it his talisman once, when they’d first been together, and she couldn’t help wondering now whether it was a dragon thing. She nearly laughed—in joy and nervousness and out-and-out shock. It sounded so ridiculous to say. A dragon thing. And yet it felt right, too.
Her boyfriend was a dragon.
Although that wasn’t precisely the truth, was it? He was also human. Maybe a were-dragon, then? A dragon shifter? She’d have to play with the terminology until she found a name that fit. And she’d want to find out how this happened, how a mystical, magical creature like the dragon had managed to merge with humanity. Unless it hadn’t; maybe Dylan’s clan was a totally different species altogether.
Her mind boggled at the possibilities. If there were dragon shifters, maybe there were other animals, as well. Maybe werewolves weren’t just for Halloween. Maybe—
“I’m not sure I like the way you’re looking at me.”
“What do you mean?” At his words, her eyes darted from Dylan’s body to his face.
“Like you’re planning a scholarly article or something. Like you’re about to reach for your damned notebook and record every aspect of my transformation.”
She smiled, shocked at how well he knew her. Her fingers were itching for the notebook she’d left by her desk when he’d dragged her out of the lab. “No notes, I promise. Just you and me and . . .”
“The dragon?”
Her throat was suddenly desert dry. “Yes.”
“You look scared. Are you sure you’re ready to see it?”
Her heart picked up its already too-quick pace. “Yes.” Then a pause. “How big are you? Do I need to stay back? Will—”
“I won’t hurt you. Even when I’m in the dragon’s body, I think like a human.” Then he inclined his head and grinned. “Mostly.”
She thought about his raging possessiveness from earlier, his dark, animalistic passions. And wondered if it worked both ways, if parts of the dragon stayed with him when he was human. She didn’t ask the question, though, didn’t want to offend him now that he’d finally agreed to shift for her.
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re shaking.” He reached out his own none-too-steady hand and trailed it down her cheek.
“I thi
nk that’s you. I’m steady as a rock.”
He made a point of looking at her knees, which were so weak, she was shocked they hadn’t started knocking together. “Maybe both of us are a little shaky?”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged.
“So let’s get it over with, then.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Wait, can I touch you when . . . Or will that bother you?”
“You can do whatever you want to me,” he answered. And then, with that enigmatic reply, he stepped back.
The air around him got blurry, hard to see through—almost as if the very earth itself was trying to protect his secret. A kaleidoscope of colors bloomed around him, blues of every shade, grays and silvers, blacks and whites. And then suddenly, he started to change right in front of her eyes.
Long, curling talons punched through his fingers and toes—she’d been right when she supposed the reason she’d seen it happen with both him and Gabe was because it was the first part of the change. Then—and this was so not expected—she saw his chest ripple as if it was being wrenched apart. Out of his back came the most amazing wings she’d ever seen. Black with veins of blue and silver, they were utterly captivating. She reached out a hand as if to touch them, but some strange and ancient knowledge kept her from actually connecting. Not now, it whispered to her. Not while he is still in transition.
She heard a loud cracking sound, watched in mesmerized horror as his body grew and changed, and she recognized the pain he must be going through. Bones broke, elongated, mended themselves as his skin began to darken. And, in a flash of light that was as fascinating as it was frightening, he was done.
Standing before her was a full-grown male dragon, complete with four feet, a long tail, horns, a prominent jaw filled with fangs and the most beautifully colored scales she’d ever seen.
In the back of her mind, she realized she’d expected him to look a little—or a lot, for that matter—like a lizard. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked like the pictures of dragons she’d see in the fairy tales her mother used to read her, although those dragons were green and Dylan most definitely wasn’t. He was black and silver, with a few shots of sapphire that shimmered when he moved. And, as in human form, he was still one of the most beautiful and fearsome creatures she had ever seen.
