by Ophelia Bell
“If you’d done it the first night, we could’ve avoided a lot of bullshit,” Ignazio said.
“Are you kidding? She’d just arrived. It was bad enough we tackled her with our tongues hanging out the way we did. I figured you were just in it for the fun after I shut you down with the groupies. She was so perfect, though … I had to have a taste, but I wasn’t about to try fucking her when I’d just told you to keep it in your pants. I couldn’t have that night, anyway. I haven’t been able to so much as rub one out all summer.”
Ignazio swallowed thickly, trying to process his friend’s side of things. “You were willing to share her, even though you knew she was your mate …”
“Her pleasure was what mattered then. Her happiness is all that matters now.”
“Seeing her in your arms tonight …” Ignazio shook his head, still bewildered by the events, but things were slowly becoming clear to him. “It was strange, but it made sense. Even though I knew she was mine, watching her come apart for you was just … right. She was meant for us from day one.”
“So, how the hell do we tell her? She just made it pretty damn clear what just happened was no more than sex. Hell, she as much as said that she wants to be our fuck-toy.”
The reminder roused Ignazio’s cock, but he quashed it. There was more to her little speech than just trying to keep the line drawn between her career and whatever this was that kept happening between them. Of course, he and Bryer knew exactly what this was … they wanted her. She belonged to them, whether she knew it or not.
But if there was one thing he knew, it was that as an Earth woman, she might have a hard time coming to terms with the kind of soul-link that was forged between a dragon and its mate. Bryer had been right to want to wait and talk to her about it first, but their dragons had clearly been too impatient.
Remembering the matchmaker’s advice, he said, “We can’t wait. Waiting was probably the wrong thing to do all along. Are you willing to take our chances and come clean?”
Bryer sighed. “She’s not going to be happy.”
“But she’ll know … she’ll know I meant it when I told her I loved her.”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Pomona tossed her dress on the counter beside the sink and retrieved the salt, dumping a pile of it directly onto the stain. Heading for the pantry, she grabbed an apron from a hook and threw it on to at least give herself a little more coverage. Finding what she was after, she headed back to the sink. As she reached for the faucet, her hand shook.
Her heart pounded and she clenched her fist, leaning against the edge of the sink.
Get your shit together, Pomona. It was just sex.
But it had been mind-blowingly amazing sex. And things had been said during all that sex. Things that she couldn’t get out of her head now that she was alone. “You’re easy to love … Tell me you’re mine … You’re mine … I love you …”
It couldn’t mean anything, could it? No. There were so many reasons it couldn’t. This was just a job, and a temporary one, at that. She might have a few more months, but at the end of it, she would move on … probably back to Earth.
Ig and Bry were stars on Nova Aurora—there was no way they would ever leave. Not to mention they weren’t the type to settle down, even if one of them did want to be with her. They apparently regularly made a bet to see who would screw the most women during the summer, after all.
And yet during all those evenings they’d spent together, enjoying each other’s company, she’d always gotten the sense that they were fully invested in those moments. That they loved her company as much as she loved theirs. She’d also never once seen any evidence of either man going out in the evenings since she’d been there, aside from the handful of fancy parties they attended, from which they always came home early and alone.
She’d noticed these things, but hadn’t dwelt on them, telling herself it was only because she cared whether they made it home okay. Or she cared whether they slept all right. Their well-being was what mattered. Their happiness was what mattered. When you loved someone, all those things mattered …
“Fuck,” she said, turning the knob on the faucet so cold water flooded out. Love wasn’t part of her plan. Not that sex with the two most amazing men in the universe had been, either, but if it was just sex, she could process it.
She snatched her dress off the counter, sending the salt granules flying, and shoved it under the stream of water. As the stain gradually faded, her nerves calmed, leaving one thing crystal clear: she loved them. But she had no idea whether that was good or bad.
The sound of the kitchen door opening drew her out of her trance and her bare skin tingled, reminding her how little she was wearing.
She turned, putting her exposed backside to the sink, grateful for the coverage the apron offered, even though its bib was barely sufficient to shield her breasts.
Bry and Ig stood there, barefoot and dressed only in their pants. Ig’s chest was covered in red teeth marks that she realized she’d made in the heat of passion when Bry had first buried his cock in her ass.
She looked away, cursing at her warring emotions. Her body was betraying her yet again, her nipples hard, her core aching for them, while her heart hurt from the tender looks they gave her—looks that suggested every sweet word of love that had been uttered might actually be true.
“We need to talk,” Bryer said.
“What just happened …” Ignazio began, then stopped as though expecting her to fill in the blank.
“What?” she asked. “Tell me what exactly did just happen, because I admit, I’m a little confused. Was that just an average night for you guys? Was I just convenient? Do you secretly have the hots for Nessa and are just projecting that onto me? Or …” She trailed off, afraid to say the thing she wanted it to be but didn’t dare hope for.
Or did it actually mean something more?
Ignazio gave her a pained look and glanced at Bryer for support.
“It’s none of those things. Can we go somewhere to sit and talk? Your bungalow …”
Somewhere to sit … fuck, if they needed her to sit, then whatever they had to tell her couldn’t be good. Fighting off the rising panic in her gut, she shook her head.
“No. You know what, I’m kind of wiped out, all right? I just need to get some sleep. Being double-teamed by dragons really takes it out of you …” She turned and headed for the rear doors that led out to the garden, the need to escape monopolizing her thoughts. Her skin chilled with panic and her head swam as she fled down the garden path, solely focused on the lights inside her little cottage.
It was safe in there, with no sign of them or what they’d done. No hints of the heartbreak she was certain would follow once she allowed them to explain themselves.
She didn’t even realize until she was curled up in her bed in the dark that she’d run out of the kitchen without her soiled dress and had left the faucet running.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They might fire her for this, but at the moment Pomona had bigger things on her mind. She’d gotten up early, made their breakfast, and left it on the table under a warmer with a note, then gone to find Levi to ask for a favor.
Now she was seated inside a transport flying low over the trees, headed into the wilderness that bordered the lake.
The bear shifter territories were nestled deep in the purple forests at the base of the mountains, and the scenery she passed took her breath away the same as every vista she’d seen since arriving on Nova Aurora two months ago. It was so similar to Earth in so many ways, and yet so very different in others. She’d grown to love it here, especially her perfect little bungalow and kitchen garden—every chef’s dream, or at least her dream, if only she weren’t worried about losing it all now.
A huge, rambling cabin came into view, nestled at the edge of a small clearing, a
nd the transport slowly descended to land. As she was getting out, a pretty, mocha-skinned woman came to stand at the rail of the deck and waved at her. She hadn’t met Nessa in person yet, but recognized her instantly from their holographic conversations in Gerri Wilder’s apartment on Earth.
Nessa wrapped her in a warm embrace, squeezing so tight Pomona let out a little groan. God, she needed a hug like that.
Nessa released her and held her at arm’s length, her brows constricting in obvious concern. “Should I be worried? You sounded so sad when you called. Come in and let’s talk … the boys are down for their nap. so we should have a few hours.”
She followed the other woman into the house, where she was ushered to a table to sit. As Nessa bustled around her own impressive kitchen, she looked at Pomona and said, “So what is it? Are they complaining about the menu? Do I need to call them and explain how this works again?”
Pomona laughed softly. “No, this has nothing to do with getting them to eat. That’s never been an issue.”
“So, how are they?”
Happy for the safe topic to ease into the issue, Pomona said, “They’re good. Bryer’s pretty much fully healed, as far as I can tell.”
“Ignazio’s sleeping? Trust me, those two certainly prepared me for having twins. These babies have been easy compared to taking care of a pair of high-maintenance dragon shifters.”
“He seems to be … I mean, I don’t exactly get up and check on him in the middle of the night, but he’s energetic and rested every morning.”
“Even after he goes out? Even after Bryer’s injury, I couldn’t talk him into staying in and resting.”
Pomona accepted the hot cup of tea and slice of delicious-looking cake Nessa offered. She shook her head.
“They don’t really go out at all. I’ve seen them go flying together at night once in a while, but that’s the extent of their nighttime excursions.” And a more magnificent sight she’d never seen than the pair of huge dragons filling the night sky, especially on the nights they’d see her relaxing out on the deck of the big house and start showing off for her.
“That’s a relief,” Nessa said. “I wonder what got them to settle down—you’d think both of them would be all over hitting the town, what with their bet.”
Pomona took a bite of cake and swallowed, her tongue awash in the exquisite and very familiar flavor. “Where did you get this recipe?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Nessa grinned at her. “You know this cake, huh? Trust me, it took years to convince Gerri I was worthy of it. And no … she’d have my hide if I divulged the secret.”
Pomona took another bite and moaned in pleasure, closing her eyes to savor it. Then she frowned, remembering her own arrangement with the woman. This might be the last time she got to taste this confection, because she couldn’t claim the job went well and give up her own signature dessert recipe under the pretext of a lie.
She set her fork down, her throat too tight to swallow another bite.
“I’m in big trouble, Nessa, and I think it means I have to cut my stay short.”
Nessa’s face fell. “But you’re doing so well! And you’re almost halfway through. Are you homesick? What can we do to make you stay?”
“I just … don’t think it’s going to work out, that’s all. I love the job, but aspects of it are a little more complicated than I signed up for.”
“No,” Nessa said, shaking her head. “That’s not all. You came all the way from Earth for this. Someone who’s fearless enough to travel across the galaxy to tackle a job like you’ve done—very well, I might add—does not shy away from something that’s ‘a little more complicated.’ Either the boys are being utter asses to you, in which case you just need to let me know and I’ll have Gaius there in a heartbeat to set them straight, or … is something wrong at home? There has to be a reason.”
Sighing, Pomona said, “Nothing’s wrong at home that I know of. And Bry and Ig are great … so great … I just …don’t know …” She clenched her fists, fighting back her rising emotions, but failing miserably. She reached for her tea, and the cup shook so badly she set it down again before she spilled it.
Nessa stared at her, jaw dropped. Then she pressed her lips together in a thin line and cursed. “Those horny bastards. I thought they said they changed the bet this year. Please don’t tell me one of them seduced you to win it. They should know better.”
“No … if they were using me for that, they certainly screwed up, because they’d be dead even. Besides, they said they didn’t make the bet this year.”
Nessa sat back, frowning. “They definitely made a bet … Maybe not to see how many females they can screw over the summer, but they were talking about it the last time I saw them. Everything’s a bit fuzzy from that night … I went into labor a little while after they left. Since then, I’ve been a little distracted, but I know talk of it has been all over the net the few moments I had time to spare. Everyone’s buzzing about which of them will win this year. Let’s see if we can find out.”
Nessa snapped her fingers, and the window that looked out onto the forest outside turned opaque, huge images springing to life across its surface. She made a little flicking motion with her hand and the images changed rapidly until they stopped on a talking head that reminded Pomona of a newscaster, with a pair of familiar, handsome faces in the background her heart hurt to see.
The volume was muted, and Nessa said, “Sorry, napping babies … you okay with subtitles?”
Pomona nodded and proceeded to read the text at the bottom of the screen.
“… two of Nova Aurora’s most eligible bachelors may be off the market at the end of the summer, if their annual bet is any indication. Is this a sign that the unstoppable Hot Wings duo is down for the count? Which member of the team do you hope wins this bet, which is a huge departure from past years for the two dragon shifter playboys known for their prowess in the bedroom as much as their prowess in the arena?”
What the hell did that mean? What was the damn bet this year if it wasn’t adding more notches to their bedposts?
The image shifted to focus on a collection of beautiful women with strangely colored eyes, and the reporter asked each one the same question. The words were burned into Pomona’s mind when they appeared at the bottom of the screen: “Who do you hope wins the bet to find a shifter mate first?”
Each woman seemed to have her favorite, saying either Ignazio or Bryer. When they were done confessing their desires, the reporter faced the screen again, and the subtitles reminded the viewers of the date when the outcome would be announced … tomorrow night, during their annual party. The party Pomona had spent the last two months diligently preparing the menus for.
She felt ill. After all their late night conversations, how had they never told her this?
“Pomona, look at me,” Nessa said, though her words seemed to be echoing through a tunnel. The cold grip of betrayal had her frozen in her seat, unable to look away from the screen that now showed both men’s faces larger than life, followed by the pair of them standing in the middle of an arena, looking victorious as onlookers threw flowers at them from all sides.
The screen went blank and Nessa gripped her shoulder, giving her a little shake. She pressed a soft cloth into Pomona’s hand and she gripped it, staring down at the napkin, confused, until a splash of moisture hit her skin and realized she was crying.
“Pomona, sweetie, tell me everything so I can help you, all right? What did they do?”
She shook her head. “They let me fall in love with them. How could I be so stupid?”
After more urging, she reluctantly shared the more sordid details of the two evenings of pleasure Ig and Bry had given her.
“But they didn’t touch you in between?” Nessa asked.
“They were perfect in between. That’s what kills me. It would be one thing if we’d just started a m
eaningless fling that went on all summer. But they made me feel loved with all the other things … the talks, the gifts. The fact that they didn’t touch me after I specifically asked them not to. At least, until last night. Now I find out that this whole time they’ve had some bet to see who got mated first? They aren’t even dating! I haven’t seen any women around the house like that, anyway. The only woman they ever even talk about is you. You’d think the sun rises and sets for you.”
Nessa smiled warmly. “That’s because I’ve fed them for the last ten years. And now you’re feeding them. They aren’t as complicated as you think. Tell me, have you noticed any unusual marks on your body since that first night? Maybe like a tattoo?”
She blinked at Nessa. “No? I mean, I have a tattoo of a chili pepper on my shoulder, but that’s it.”
“Indulge me for a second, all right? Let me see it.”
“Sure,” Pomona said, shrugging. She turned in her seat and unbuttoned her blouse, shrugging it off her shoulders so Nessa could see her tattoo. The other woman suddenly sputtered and coughed. It sounded like she was choking on her tea.
“What is it?” Pomona asked, turning around again. “Are you all right?”
Nessa nodded, fanning a hand in front of her face and coughing. “Yeah, I’m fine. But girl, you need to go look in the mirror. They may have made you fall in love with them, but I think it’s safe to say the feeling is mutual.”
She let Nessa usher her into the bedroom where she had her turn in front of a set of mirrored closet doors. Her heart raced with worry over what she might see. When Nessa held another mirror up behind her, she gasped. The center of her back was covered with the most elaborate and beautiful tattoo she’d ever seen.
“I definitely don’t remember getting that,” she said, staring at the pair of red and blue circular patterns that linked in the center of her back. She shifted slightly, and they seemed to shimmer with inner light.
