Ember's Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

  She saw the wonder in Brandon’s expression and knew exactly how she was going to reciprocate. She reached for him, urging him to roll to his back. She was breathing heavily, the taste of salt on her lip. He leaned forward and kissed it away, his eyes twinkling with irresistible humor.

  “Behave,” she said, pretending to be stern. “It’s your turn.”

  He lay back, displaying himself to her, smiling as she looked. Liz peeled off his shirt, then ran her hands over his muscled chest in admiration. He had more than one tattoo, the dark ink striking against the amber of his tan.

  She slid her hands over that perfect six-pack, then slipped her fingers inside his shorts and eased them over his hips. He was hard and ready, and she stroked him as he kicked off his shorts. He looked like a god in the bed beside her, so perfectly formed and tanned that maybe he was an illusion.

  Liz wasn’t going to let him get away just yet. She folded her hand around him, then bent and took him in her mouth.

  She liked the way he moaned. His fingers slid into her hair, but he didn’t stop her or hurry her. Liz took her time. She caressed him and kissed him until he was even harder and thicker, liking the evidence of her power to please him. He whispered her name and stroked his fingertips over her shoulder.

  When he said her name with more urgency and reached for her, Liz’s heart skipped. He wanted her, not just pleasure in general. Her heart sang in recognition of a kindred spirit.

  She’d reconcile herself to the reappearance of magic in her life later. For now there was only Brandon and the promise of his touch. When he moaned her name, his voice hoarse with yearning, she moved to sit astride him. Brandon smiled at her and locked his hands around her waist.

  “I could have finished you off,” she teased.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I want us to come together.”

  He slid his hands over her, cupping her breasts, then sliding one finger down to her wet heat. He touched her until she was shivering again, and Liz stretched higher to give him access. When her clitoris was hard again and her heart was pounding, Liz lowered her hips and took his strength inside her.

  Brandon closed his eyes and moaned. He faltered for a second; then he gripped her hips in his hands. Their gazes met and locked, the intensity of their desire crackling. Those flames danced and cavorted, making it look like there was a bonfire between them.

  Liz had never been so excited in her life. She could see Brandon’s pulse at his throat, couldn’t believe the brilliant glitter of his eyes. She felt as if they’d stepped into the middle of the sun, and tasted perspiration on her own lip.

  Then Brandon moved, slowly burying himself deep within her. Liz gasped. He held her hips in his hands, his thumbs stroking her skin and his gaze locked with hers. “Okay?” he asked. and she heard the strain in his voice.

  She nodded. “You’re huge.”

  He grinned. “Or you’re tight.”

  Liz smiled. “Or maybe that’s part of the firestorm’s power.”

  Brandon chuckled and laced his fingers with hers. “It’s supposed to be epic,” he said, and kissed her hand. The glow in his eyes told her that he was as excited as she was. “Let’s make it last.”

  Unable to resist, she leaned over him and framed his face in her hands, bracing her elbows against the bed. She kissed him hungrily and he groaned, locking his arms around her as he returned her kiss. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her mouth locked on his. His tongue drove her wild all over again

  His slow movement heightened sensation, imbuing every gesture with passion and power. Liz thought she would explode. Brandon dragged himself against her clitoris with every stroke, ensuring that each one lasted half of forever. She tasted the tension in him and felt the perspiration at his temples. Her own heart was pounding and she felt more keenly alive than ever before. The firestorm’s flames slid over them and between them, like an inferno coaxed to greater heat.

  Liz was on fire. She was melting. She was burning. She was trapped by the passion Brandon built between them, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. When he buried himself inside her again and groaned, she knew she couldn’t stand it much longer.

  “Now,” she commanded.

  Brandon moved more quickly then, rolling her to her back. Liz locked her legs around his waist and kissed him as if she’d never get enough. He reached between them and touched her with his fingertips, coaxing her orgasm even as he built to his own.

  The tide rose high and hot within her, her heart thundering and her skin simmering. He was braced over her, and she hung on to his shoulders, pulling him deep inside her. He moved faster and harder, filling her in a way she loved. She dug her nails into his shoulders and hauled him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. He kissed her ear, his breath driving her over the edge. Liz cried out as her orgasm cascaded into a shower of sparks.

  Brandon drove deep then and she felt his heat spill inside her. She smiled at his long, low moan of pleasure. She held him tightly against her as he shuddered with his release, wanting his heat and his strength for as long as possible.

  He sighed with satisfaction, then braced his elbow on the bed beside her. He kissed her just below the ear, his breath tickling. “Perfect,” he murmured, and she turned to find his eyes gleaming. He slid one hand over her, his smile so warm that she wanted him all over again.

  “Perfect,” she agreed with a smile, running her fingers through his hair.

  “Best ever,” he added, and Liz nodded agreement. He ran his fingertips down her cheek and her chin, then traced the curve of her collarbone. When he met her gaze this time, his expression was mischievous. “Still, we could try to improve on it. Just to see whether it can be done.”

  Liz felt her smile broaden. She liked that he wasn’t in a hurry to leave or intent on falling asleep. “I’m a big fan of gathering data with experimentation,” she said, pretending to be serious.

  Brandon looked at her. “Really?”

  “Well, I’m a scientist. That’s what we do. That’s why I’m here.”

  “You work here? I thought you just arrived.”

  “I did. I came for a symposium.”

  “Are you going to stay a while?” Liz saw the concern in Brandon’s eyes, a concern that convinced her that she had made the right choice.

  “How long are you thinking?”

  He smiled and interlaced their fingers again. “Long enough for me to convince you that the firestorm is right.”

  She nodded. “I’m hoping to get a more permanent post here.”

  Brandon’s grin flashed. “Good,” he said, and bent to claim her lips again.

  After his kiss, Liz was breathless. “What about you?” she asked. “Are you just visiting? You’re not from here. You sound like you’re Australian.”

  Brandon nodded. “But I’m here now. I came for the waves, but I’ll stay for you.” Liz’s heart skipped at that. He bent and kissed her slowly. His eyes were twinkling when he finally lifted his head. “So, what do you think of showers, scientifically speaking?”

  “I hypothesize that they show definite promise for intimate activities,” Liz said, feigning a serious manner. “Especially this one, because it’s big.” Liz smiled at him. “Of course, only experimentation will prove whether my hypothesis is true.”

  “Now I remember why I liked the scientific method so much,” Brandon said. He got out of the bed, scooped her up, and headed for the bathroom with purpose. Liz kicked her legs happily, content to worry about tomorrow, implications, and repercussions when they turned up.

  She was living in the moment and liking it just fine.

  It was only when Liz was back in bed much later, so sated that she was finally drowsy, that she realized those sparks had disappeared. She braced herself on her elbow and looked down at Brandon, who had already fallen asleep, his arm curled around her waist.

  She touched his chest, just as she had on the beach, but there were no sparks. Brandon mumbled in his sleep and caught her hand
in his, trapping it against his chest. She felt his heartbeat beneath her palm.

  But no sparks.

  No blue shimmer.

  No red light.

  Just the steady radiance of that indigo aura. She might have dismissed her idea that her powers were back otherwise. His aura was less active as he slept, but the light was unmistakable.

  She didn’t mind the auras. She could accept their return.

  She just hoped her gift didn’t bring other, less happy consequences. Maybe it had just responded to Brandon. Liz smiled, reviewing his comments about destiny. Her mother would have liked him. She fell asleep smiling, with Brandon warm beside her and his arm thrown around her waist.

  Her last thought was that she had indeed arrived in paradise.

  Brandon awakened suddenly, his senses on full alert. He felt threatened, but he couldn’t name why. He was aware of the dragon stirring within him, restless and agitated.

  Had his plan failed? Or did it take more time to completely shed the dragon?

  Brandon was still in Liz’s bed and she was snuggled beside him, breathing deeply. They were spooned together, her sweet butt against his groin and his arm around her waist. She was soft and warm, the scent of her perfume surrounding him like a cocoon, the dark silk of her hair across his arms. It was just after dawn, and the room was still filled with pale light.

  There was no golden spark of the firestorm, so it was satisfied.

  But Brandon’s adrenaline was pumping and he could see the shimmer of pale blue around his own body. The dragon roared, bellowing for release, and he had to clamp down hard on his impulse to shift.

  Had he heard an intruder? He strained his ears but there was nothing, nothing but the soft rhythm of Liz’s breathing and the waves breaking on the beach.

  He’d heard something, though.

  He was hovering on the cusp of change, just barely managing to stay there. The dragon sensed trouble. Was it just trying to take control? To reassert itself while it still could?

  It sure didn’t feel as if its power had weakened with the satisfaction of the firestorm, which was frightening.

  Brandon couldn’t stay in bed, not with his pulse racing like this, not when he was uncertain of the dragon’s intent. He eased away from Liz, not wanting to awaken her. He had to solve this himself, face his dragon and kick its butt.

  For good.

  First, he’d check that there was no real threat. Brandon tugged on his shorts and opened the sliding glass door that led to the patio. He couldn’t see anything unusual—but it was strangely silent, as if all the birds had suddenly abandoned the island. He caught his breath.

  Brandon knew what that meant.

  There was an ominous rumble from deep within the earth, one that Brandon felt more than he heard. Earthquake! A lifetime spent on the Pacific Rim meant that he knew the drill. He grabbed the ID that was stashed in his flip-flops beside the bed, but he never got his sandals on.

  The earth’s rumble became a roar and the floor began to tremble.

  He saw the blue shimmer brighten around his body. He heard the dragon bellow deep inside. He had time to swear; then the change ripped through his body with lightning speed. He had no chance to stop it.

  His dragon kicked his butt this time.

  That furious anger raged through him with terrifying power, making him want to rip and shred and breathe fire. The building was vibrating so hard that he was afraid it would collapse. The prospect of destruction made his dragon laugh, which terrified Brandon. He summoned the last vestige of his control, determined to achieve something good with his dragon’s power.

  All he wanted to do was snatch Liz and get her out of there.

  Liz awakened to find the bed shaking. Before she could figure out what was happening, the bed danced across the floor, trembling all the way. Chunks of plaster were falling from the ceiling. Sirens were going off and a fire alarm was clanging.

  Worse, Brandon was gone.

  The sheets were still warm where he had been sleeping. He couldn’t be far.

  Was this an earthquake? She’d never been in one before but this certainly fit her expectations.

  There was a bellow and a shooting tongue of fire; then a dragon appeared out of nowhere and lunged at the bed. He was enormous, his scales as dark as night but edged with orange. Liz screamed as he snatched her up.

  The ceiling cracked wide-open overhead, and the dragon’s claws locked around her.

  He felt real and solid. Liz understood that this was no nightmare.

  She fought the dragon’s grip instinctively as she thought, Where had he come from? Why was he here? What had he done to Brandon? What was he going to do to her? Liz struggled, but her strength was too puny to make any difference. His scales were hard, like armor, and she wasn’t sure he even noticed her blows. The dragon strode across the vibrating room, like Godzilla crossing a ruined city.

  “Brandon?” she shouted as the building shook harder. Half of the ceiling ripped loose and fell onto the bed, launching a huge cloud of dust. The plaster crashed down right where Liz had been sleeping, the weight of it making the bed collapse.

  If she’d still been there, she would have died.

  She wasn’t feeling inclined to thank the dragon.

  The walls were cracking and something was fizzling behind them. Gas? Water? Liz wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She kicked the dragon hard in the gut and her toe collided with a soft spot.

  He groaned and stumbled.

  Liz saw that he was missing a scale there and the skin was exposed. She kicked him harder in the same spot, digging in her toe. He dropped her with a growl and she ran to the bathroom, hoping Brandon had taken refuge there.

  He hadn’t.

  The bathroom was empty, water gushing through the tiles from a broken pipe in the wall. Liz heard windows breaking as the building shuddered. The floor jumped more vigorously and she was nearly thrown off her feet.

  The dragon roared behind her and she slammed the bathroom door, choosing what appeared to be the safer option. She locked the door, then grabbed the robe hanging on the hook on the back. Flames shot through the cracks around the perimeter of the door, and she could smell the paint burning.

  Would anyone even hear her if she screamed?

  Where could she run?

  The light fixture swung in the bathroom, cracked, and fell to the floor. It splashed in the growing puddle of water, the glass flying in all directions. Liz covered her face, then heard the sparks. They were leaping out of the damaged electrical outlet and falling to the floor. She had a heartbeat to recognize what would happen; then the dragon kicked down the door. He seized her from behind and leapt for the sliding glass door as she screamed in terror.

  He had her purse and her clothes, which astonished her.

  Was this dragon trying to save her?

  Why?

  She heard the crackle of the sparks hitting the water behind them and hung on. If nothing else, the dragon was taking her where she needed to go.

  The building stopped its shaking just as he erupted onto the patio. He didn’t stop, and carried her all the way down to the coral beach and dropped her on her feet. Liz looked back and the residence building seemed to be wavering unsteadily, like it was drunk. The earth was still again.

  It was just after dawn, the sky a rosy hue. The air was still, too still.

  And Liz was standing on a beach with a dragon.

  He was black from head to toe, his scales as dark as midnight. Each one, though, was edged in brilliant orange, as if it was made from a coal that glowed in the darkness. The scales on his chest were a thousand shades of orange and gold, and his wings could have been made of black leather. His tail was long and powerful, and it lashed against the sand restlessly. His talons were golden, like they’d been made of precious gold. A tendril of smoke rose from his nostrils, and she had the definite sense that he was angry.

  His eyes were red, his pupils vertical slits.

  Reptile eyes. />
  Eyes that looked exactly the way Brandon’s had the night before.

  Liz shied away from an instinctive—crazy!—conclusion, and told herself to focus on ensuring Brandon’s survival. She put out her hand, requesting her belongings, uncertain what to expect.

  The dragon dropped her clothes and her purse between them. He then turned away, breathing a plume of fire at the beach as if he couldn’t help himself.

  Liz fell on her clothes, tugging them on more quickly than she would have believed possible. The earthquake was over. She knew what she had to do.

  “I have to find Brandon,” she said, and turned to head back into the residence.

  The dragon roared behind her.

  Liz ran, as much from the dragon as to find Brandon.

  The earthquake began again, or maybe it was an aftershock. Either way, Liz had a hard time running in a straight line. She had to be sure Brandon was safe. Had he gone out into the corridor outside her unit? He had to be somewhere on the island. She couldn’t just forget about him. What if he needed help?

  What if he was right behind her?

  The dragon bellowed, much closer than Liz would have preferred.

  She heard the leathery beat of his wings even as she ran faster. He flew over her and breathed fire, his crackling stream of flame barring Liz from her goal. She made to leap over the flames, but he snatched her up easily and soared into the sky.

  “No!” Liz cried. “Brandon!”

  The dragon gained altitude with dizzying speed. Liz struggled against his grip, but there was no escaping him. She kicked him in that same spot again, but he only snarled. He passed her to his back claw and she couldn’t reach his belly anymore. No matter how she bit or punched him, her efforts made no difference to her plight.

  “Put me down!” she shouted. “I have to find Brandon!”

  The dragon ignored her, heading straight up into the sky.

  Liz fumed. She looked down and knew that if he dropped her from this height, she’d be in serious trouble. She looked up, unable to help admiring his grace and power.

  The odd thing was that he was missing three scales; there were three places where his skin was exposed. Liz wondered whether they were shed as a natural process of renewal or whether he’d been injured. The exposed skin was both angry and red, as if it had been burned. She tapped one of the scales that she could reach, noting how hard it was and how precisely it fit with its neighbors. Would his scales grow back?