by Jory Strong
So yes, while her cousin was very pretty, Jazzlyn believed Caro wouldn’t risk losing her man to someone like Deana, who was definitely beautiful enough to model more than part-time in Jazzlyn’s opinion.
They reached the top of the stairs and Jazzlyn pointed toward the right, to the apartment on the ocean side of the building though the complex was several blocks away from the beach. Kirill gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “Don’t worry, we will find what we need here. Before nightfall you’ll know your cousin’s whereabouts.”
His confidence boosted hers. They stopped in front of the door and Jazzlyn knocked. A moment later she sensed a presence rather than heard it. She could easily imagine Carolyn’s roommate looking through the peephole and pretending not to be home.
Kirill nudged Jazzlyn to the side, so he was visible. Almost immediately there was the sound of a deadbolt retracting.
Deana opened the door wearing a robe that looked like something taken from a lingerie photo shoot. It clung provocatively, emphasizing generous breasts and a thin figure. “I haven’t heard from Caro,” she said, directing the words at Jazzlyn though all of her attention was focused on Kirill.
He took charge, saying, “Allow us in to search her room.”
Deana stepped back, her eyes glazing over in lust—not that Jazzlyn could blame her. The timbre of Kirill’s voice had been enough to make molten desire run through her veins instead of blood, and a cloud of potent masculine pheromones descend to effect her breathing.
“You can look at anything that catches your interest,” Deana said, practically eating Kirill with her eyes.
Jealousy flared to life inside Jazzlyn, fierce and uncomfortable and unexpected. It screamed along her nerve endings, claiming He’s mine!
The logical part of her shied away from it, denied it, only to be overridden by images of his hungry focus at Inner Magick. Of Aislinn talking about heartmate stones and perfect mates in the moments before the gems set in the mirror blazed liquid silver and dark blue.
She couldn’t stop herself from checking Kirill’s expression to see if he was equally affected by Deana. He wasn’t. Or if he was, he was doing a good job of hiding it.
Relief rushed into her. She blushed when his eyes met hers, his expression growing possessive and determined, as if he could see into her heart and read her doubts, and intended to eradicate them completely at the first opportunity.
Her cunt spasmed, dampening her panties further. His nostrils flared in reaction and his eyes darkened from deep blue to the solid black of lust, reassuring her she was the one he desired.
Deana’s hands on his chest ended the moment and reminded Jazzlyn of the task that had brought them here. She hated his being touched by another woman. But she took advantage of the distraction he provided even though primitive thoughts of breaking model-perfect fingers, hands and arms crowded her mind as she went to Carolyn’s room.
Violent thoughts gave way to victorious ones as soon as Jazzlyn saw the battered music box on the nightstand. It was exactly the item she needed.
Caro’s father had given it to her on her twelfth birthday, the year before he’d turned his back on his old family in favor of his new one. The music box had been broken more than once, hurled against the wall in anger and sadness. But each time, something inside Carolyn drove her to collect the pieces and have the box repaired.
Seeing it saddened Jazzlyn. Her father left when she was nine, unable to “live a lie” any longer. In his case, not living a lie translated into coming out of the closest about being a gay man who’d tried to be a straight one.
Jazzlyn sighed, wishing Carolyn could let go of the past, or at least understand how it played into her decisions when it came to men. She picked up the pillow and stripped the pillowcase off it.
At least she understood her own motivations for trying to maintain a relationship with her cousin despite how little they had in common anymore. Old loyalties died hard. She might not be as painfully introverted and shy as she once was, but she remembered those earlier years with agonizing clarity. She wouldn’t have survived her first twelve years of school without Caro there.
Jazzlyn carefully wrapped the pillowcase around the music box, trying not to touch the wood. It might not matter to Aislinn, she hadn’t said anything about not handling whatever they found, but Jazzlyn preferred safe to sorry.
She turned to leave then realized she couldn’t, not yet. The thought of invading her cousin’s privacy knotted Jazzlyn’s stomach, but she might not get another chance to search Caro’s room for something tangible, something that might identify Carolyn’s current boyfriend or provide a hint as to where they were.
Deana’s husky murmur came from the living room. Jazzlyn cocked her head and listened more intently, hearing footsteps but not the sound of Kirill’s voice. She wondered what he was doing to keep Caro’s roommate occupied, and found with a surprise, that whatever it was, she trusted him to be in the same room with someone as gorgeous and underdressed as Deana and not be seduced.
How much longer before Jazzlyn emerged from the bedroom? Kirill wondered as he managed to get to the other side of the eating table without it appearing as though he was in a full-blown retreat.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, he’d forgotten the effect his kind could have on human females in this magic-poor realm. Clearly it had been a mistake to grip Deana’s wrists and pull her hands from where they’d been trying to strip him of his clothing as he struggled to occupy her with conversation. Apparently doing so had been like waving a red flag in front of a bull or a glittering jewel in front of a dragon.
The robe fluttered to floor as she moved toward him. “Don’t be this way,” she said, shrugging so her nightgown strap slid down and a breast was revealed. “I know you want me. You practically devoured me when I opened the door for you.”
Her scent reached him. It enveloped him, but unlike Jazzlyn’s it didn’t stir either his cock or his fantasies.
A small, niggling worry slid into Kirill’s consciousness as he remembered the silent exchange with Jazzlyn and the wave of dragon pheromones freed by the lust he felt toward his soon-to-be mate. Was it possible Deana had been caught in the backlash? Were her actions the result of his own lack of control?
Between the sorcerer’s curse and the image he’d carried of Jazzlyn since he was barely old enough to be considered an adult, he’d never pursued a female or had reason to try to seduce one. He had no sexual experience, though before this day was over, that would no longer be the case.
Embarrassed guilt caused Kirill’s face to redden. It deepened when Deana said, “There’s no need to by shy with me. I’ll take good care of you.”
He dared a glance toward the hallway where Jazzlyn had disappeared, only to look back and find Deana was climbing onto the table, the movement making the short nightgown ride up, leaving her buttocks exposed.
Horror vibrated through him as he backed away. Would Jazzlyn think less of him if he escaped to the car or if joined her in the bedroom like a scared fledgling seeking protection?
Approaching footsteps stiffened his spine. Panic brought inspiration. He did not want his soon-to-be mate to walk in on this scene!
Kirill lunged forward, plucking Deana off the table then hurrying to scoop up the robe. He wrapped it around her securely and tied the belt so her arms were bound at her sides.
The shock of his actions kept her still. Or perhaps his proximity and pheromones subdued her. Either way, Kirill was grateful to have the situation under control as Jazzlyn entered the room.
Her gaze lingered briefly on his face, noting his high color. “Ready to leave?” she asked, her voice holding the faintest hint of amusement.
Kirill answered with his feet, getting to her side and hustling her to the car as quickly as possible. Even the prospect of being trapped in a steely deathtrap with Jazzlyn driving paled in comparison to remaining in the apartment with Deana.
It took extraordinary effort for Jazzlyn to hide her smile and keep fr
om laughing, but she managed it. Poor guy, he’d suffered enough.
A sideways glance at Kirill and her heart turned over in her chest. He was such a contradiction.
Most guys who looked as good as he did would have major egos. They’d expect the kind of attention Deana had obviously been giving him. Kirill, on the other hand…
Her good intentions not to laugh almost disappeared as the image of Deana tangled and tied in her robe resurfaced. Jazzlyn bit her bottom lip, remembering his heightened color and panicked expression. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was gay.
But you don’t know better—yet, a mischievous internal voice that sounded a lot like Alex’s prompted, making her heart trip into a stuttered beat. Maybe you should do a quick check. Give him a kiss in appreciation of his efforts on your behalf. Without him, you wouldn’t have the music box.
Lust burned her belly and flared outward. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Did she dare?
She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never taken on a man like Kirill. The two guys she’d dated to the point of actual intercourse had been gentle and considerate and…when it was done she’d felt unsatisfied and wondered if they felt the same.
It hadn’t exactly been a boost to her self-confidence.
But this is different. He’s different.
Indecision kept her driving a few moments longer, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
His scent filled her car. His nearness was distracting enough to cause a wreck.
She pulled to the curb and put the car in park before turning to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, dark and hungry, eradicating any possible doubt about her desirability.
“Thanks for helping me,” she said, leaning forward, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
Fire scorched through her the instant their lips touched. It roared through her system, branding every inch of her as his.
She moaned. Or he did.
It was impossible to tell. Just as it was impossible to know whether he pulled her onto his lap or she climbed there.
She wanted him. She found him fascinating, like a gem with hidden facets, one needing the right person and setting to really see it in all its glory. He was endearing, strangely vulnerable, like a man out of his element, and totally adorable because of it, though she doubted he would appreciate the label, not when he bristled with masculine pride and projected the promise of dominance.
Her clit throbbed where it pressed against her panties. Her cunt lips were swollen, full. She ached with a desperation that made her want to guide his hand to her mound.
“We can’t,” she said, more for herself than for him.
“We can. We will,” Kirill said.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, did she have any idea what she was putting him through? he wondered, intensely aware of Jazzlyn’s breasts pressed to his chest and the proximity of her cunt to his cock.
Having her in his arms was torment and ecstasy, a battering of his senses. A reality beyond any he’d ever known.
His tongue delved into her mouth, explored, conquered. Centuries of need crested and he poured it into her along with his fire.
Mine! It echoed through him with every beat of his heart. She was his and he would never let her escape.
His hands roamed possessively over her back, aggressively tugging her blouse upward so he could caress her naked flesh. He shuddered at the smooth feel of her skin and the way she responded to him, clung to him, her scent revealing her readiness to accept him as a mate.
He fought the urge to let the hollow spurs at his wrists descend and fill with serum. A moan escaped as he imagined raking them across her back.
They were an ancient adaptation leaving human females unconscious—a necessity in the days when dragons lived in rocky lairs accessible only by flying. But more importantly, the serum would alter her body, change her chemistry so she could conceive a dragon’s young.
His cock spasmed, the tip becoming wet, lubricated in preparation for working its way into her tight sheath. He’d heard it said that great care had to be taken even in claiming those human females who had a great deal of sexual experience.
A growl escaped at the thought of Jazzlyn ever knowing any touch but his. He would eradiate any memory of a past lover, burn it from her mind and body with dragon fire.
His arm tightened around her. One hand left her back to smooth over her skirt from waistband to hem, then slide underneath.
She shivered as his palm made the return trip against her skin, stopping on her thigh. His fingers traced the edge of dainty, feminine panties, sending a rush of possessive desire through his cock.
“What color are they?” he asked, loath to relinquish her mouth long enough to gain an answer.
“Dark blue.”
One of his colors, though she didn’t know it yet.
Satisfaction rippled through him as he imagined her wearing nothing but jewelry from his store of treasure. Sapphires strung together with delicate silver links, their beauty accentuating hers as they circled her neck and wrists, ankles and belly.
He reclaimed her mouth as his hand delved into her panties. In his fantasies her mound was smooth, naked of pubic hair, kept that way for her pleasure as well as his.
The erotic shock of encountering bare skin made Kirill lose control. For an instant the car filled with shimmering silver and traces of blue as the magic holding him into a human shape nearly failed.
The squeal of brakes right next to the car jerked Jazzlyn into awareness of her surroundings. She pulled away from Kirill’s kiss, flustered, needy—heart thumping and guilt rising as she remembered Caro.
It was harder than it should have been to slide from his lap, to return to the driver’s seat. She nearly whimpered at the loss of his hand between her thighs. A second longer…
Jazzlyn squeezed her legs together and fought to make sense of what was happening to her. She’d never in her life responded to a man the way she did to him, to the point where she lost her inhibitions in public.
He crowded her, not letting her retreat into either shyness or mortification. His hand cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “You make me forget myself.” His voice sounded gruff, as if he wasn’t used to losing control in public either.
Warmth exploded in her chest then sunk to her cunt. It didn’t make sense, not given his looks, but she felt as though somehow they were kindred spirits. “You have the same effect on me.”
“Good,” he said, practically purring with masculine satisfaction.
She laughed, because on him a touch of arrogance was very attractive. It gave her the confidence to lean forward and brush his lips in a teasing kiss. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
He retaliated by cupping her breast and sending a spark of fire straight to her clit. “We will finish this after we’ve done what we can to find your cousin.”
It was a statement instead of a question. But Jazzlyn answered anyway, whispering yes against his mouth before his tongue thrust between her lips.
Chapter Four
“Perfect timing,” Aislinn said, joining Kirill and Jazzlyn at the door of Inner Magick long enough to lock it, then flip a sign over to indicate the store was closed. “And a perfect excuse for going home a little early today. Thankfully, it’s late enough that any of my regular customers would call before coming by. Let’s do this in the back room.”
They followed her through the beaded curtains.
Jazzlyn was momentarily distracted by drawings of things Aislinn was in the process of making. The work was unique, most of it small pieces of art to grace desktops, rather than jewelry, though she knew Aislinn did both.
With a wave of her hand, Aislinn directed them to sit down at a small table littered with stones. Jazzlyn unwrapped the music box and set it on the table. “I was careful not to touch it directly, just in case it mattered.”
She wiped suddenly damp palms against her skirt, realizing how many boundaries had already been stretched today and
feeling nervous at being so far out of her comfort zone. Did she really believe in psychics and magic and heartmate stones?
Kirill’s hand came down on hers, pinning it to her thigh and reminding her of what had happened on the way to Inner Magick. A glance in his direction and she found it hard to care about anything but having time to explore the chemistry between them.
She might be introverted and shy by nature but that didn’t mean she intended to turn her back on the chance of a lifetime. In that way she was very much like her mother.
