“Dragosarra,” the man murmured, his eyes narrowing.
Camille lifted the cellphone still in her hand and pointed it at him. “Dude, I want to get to the bottom of this, but you are just too naked to have any kind of a conversation.”
“The woman you spoke of—”
So naked…
Camille waved her hand, cutting him off. “Gerri Wilder? What of her?” Her eyes widened. “She WAS she the one who sent you, right?” she shot back, trying not to stare.
He shook his head. “She is the reason I was imprisoned.” His hand flung to the book on the table.
Camille blinked, looking from him to the book and back again. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The woman. There is only one person I know with that name, although your pronunciation is different. It cannot be coincidence that you suspect her of sending me to you.”
“Are you saying Gerri sent you or not?” Cami demanded. “You can’t be the same client she spoke of this afternoon. That makes no sense.”
“I know nothing of which you speak. The woman, Gerri, was the Dragosarra to my clan. Our seer. She cost me my freedom. For over eight hundred years, I’ve been at the mercy of whoever possesses that book, though it’s been centuries since I was last summoned.”
Camille pursed her lips. “Eight hundred years, huh. Wow, that’s a long time to be two dimensional.”
When it was clear her sarcasm was lost on him, she shook her head. “Look, you can stop reading from the script. I enjoy a good laugh the same as anyone, but it’s time to let the joke go— and dude, why are you still naked? I get it if it’s a fetish, but seriously.”
“You seem obsessed with my nakedness, but you won’t admit if you like it or not.”
“I am NOT obsessed. And why do you keep asking if I like what I see? Yes, okay? You’re hung like a race horse. What’s not to like?” She snorted, but at the look on his face she dragged a hand through her hair.
“Look, I get that Gerri sent you, but at this point whether or not I like you is immaterial. I would rather you were clothed, that’s all.”
He wrapped a hand around his thick shaft. “You’re scent tells me otherwise. Why do you fight your own body? You summoned me to please you, so let’s begin.”
“Dude!” She made herself look away, though the sight of him like that sent a punch to her lower belly. “Look, I did not summon you. Yes, I contracted with Mrs. Wilder’s agency, a decision I’m regretting with each passing moment, but I did not sign up for a midnight mash up.”
“You do not want me?”
She licked her lips.
How do you say no to that?
“That’s not the point. You appear in my living room in the middle of the night and expect me to jump your bones? I don’t even know your name.”
“No summoner has ever requested my name.”
“You can stop with the narrative. I get it.” Tired of clutching her robe like a coward, she exhaled and let her hand drop.
His eyes darkened and a full body blush tingled over her skin. Lifting her robe, she shoved her arms through her the sleeves and tightened the belt. “I’m not completely without appreciation, though. Gerri is very creative in setting up her matches.”
“There is no narrative here. I am bound to the book and your blood offering summoned me to pleasure you. I am yours until you tire of me.”
Camille hooked her hands onto her hips. “Okay, then, why not? If this is what it takes, I’ll play along.”
“There is no game being played here. I am in earnest.”
Her brows knotted. “Wait. You actually expect me to believe you’re some kind of sex slave trapped in a book that I somehow summoned with a papercut?”
The lunacy of it sunk in and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh at the man. “I’m either way past drunk or so desperate to get laid I’ve gone delusional even considering the possibility. Either way, the jokes on me.”
The man’s delicious dark eyes flared blood red and a growl unlike any she’d heard rumbled in his throat.
“Holy shit!” Camille bolted back from him.
“Young woman, this is no jest. I’ve spent interminable days and nights in darkness, isolated from my dual nature and cut off from any corporeal delight. Food, drink—sex.” He eyed her. “Even the simple pleasure of the sun on my face.”
His frustration was palpable and Cami’s eyes bugged as the ghosted silhouette of scaled wings flickered behind his bulging shoulders.
Camille’s mouth dropped open. “Wh…wh…what are you?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer. Another scream ripped from her throat and she turned to run, but her foot caught her robe’s low hanging belt and she pitched forward. With a cry she crashed to all fours, her body splayed on the hardwood floor.
He rushed toward her, taking her arm to help her up and when she lifted her face to his, his eyes were once again a deep gorgeous brown.
“Are you injured?” he asked.
She shook her head, letting him help her to her feet. “I don’t think so.”
They stood toe-to-toe. “I’m sorry I frightened you. It was not my intention. I accept the consequences of my rash behavior.” He dropped his head and didn’t say another word.
Camille stood speechless and after a moment he angled his head, as if waiting for sentencing.
“Do you expect me to say something?” she asked. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you. I’m the one who deserves a full explanation here.” Her gaze flicked to his crotch. “Other than a carnal one, I mean.”
He lifted his chin from his chest and stared at her open mouthed. “You’re not going to banish me to the darkness again?”
“What?”
Now it was his turn for his eyes to widen. “Banish me to the book? It is your right, as is anything else you want from me. I belong to you.”
It took a minute for her to wrap her head around his words. “Wait, back up. I don’t understand what is happening tonight, but I’m too tired to argue fact versus fiction anymore. Someone needs to explain this better. If not you, then Gerri, but either way it will have to wait until the morning.
“Don’t make a face. Whatever transpired between you, I’m sure you can figure it out. After all, she thought enough of you to try and match you with me, although her methods leave a lot to be desired—”
Camille paused.
There’s method to my madness.
The matchmaker’s words came back and she exhaled. Method? Maybe the older woman needed to think again. Closing her eyes, she shook her head.
“—In the meantime,” she continued, but stopped mid-rant watching him smirk. “Dude, seriously. Don’t you own any clothes? I can’t talk to you when you’re so…so…”
He grinned. “Naked?” He raised one eyebrow, but then turned in a circle.
Holy crap! His flipside was just as perfect as the front, and she bit her lip at his amazing ass and muscled shoulders. She itched to run her hands over his hard body, but shoved her arms into her robe’s pockets, instead.
He turned full circle and his dark eyes travelled her length. “With all your talk of clothing,” he said, taking a step forward. “I much prefer you without the woolen blanket.”
Woolen blanket?
She glanced at the nubby terrycloth and had to laugh. “Very funny. I took a bath earlier, just before you—” She shrugged. “Well, before.”
“I would be happy to help bathe you. You only have to ask.” His sexy accented voice practically purred.
“I can manage, but thanks for the offer.” She aimed for offhand, but heat crawled up her cheeks anyway.
“Are you sure?”
No…but—
What buts? He’s gorgeous and his butt is exactly what you need!
Angling his head he considered her. “Are you the new seer?”
Camille’s eyes went wide and she took a step back at the intensity of his stare. “No. I’m a research fellow. A librarian. I work with boo
ks.”
A slow smile crossed his gorgeous face. “Then you did summon me with your blood.”
With two steps he closed the distance between them. “It’s been hundreds of moons since I’ve seen or smelled anyone as sweet as you.” His hand slipped behind her head and his mouth took hers.
Camille’s mind went fuzzy at the taste of him and she closed her eyes.
“Your scent makes me want to bury my tongue in the soft folds between your legs and lap every drop,” he whispered against her lips. “You stir the forgotten places inside me where my dragon used to roam. No one has done that in eight hundred years.”
Dragon? Did he say dragon?
Yeah, didn’t you catch his winged shadow earlier?
Gerri Wilder dealt in fantasy. She said so herself. But was this a coerced fantasy set to help coax her out of her comfort zone or was this real? She shook her head. A sex slave trapped in a book? Even by her standards it was a lot to swallow.
She moaned and all thought left her head at the feel of his hard body pressed against hers. She knew every hard line, including the stiff bar of his cock.
Rough hands roamed from her ass to her waist and he skimmed his fingers upward to her breasts. Oh, God. She dug her fingers into his hair as he grazed her nipples. If this was real, she could have her own personal boy-toy.
He reached to spread the front of her robe, but Camille’s eyes snapped open, reality crashing through her wine-soaked sex haze.
She put both hands on his chest and pushed herself back from him. “Hold it right there, Jack-in-the-box. You and your pop-up-penis need to keep your hands and all other protruding parts to yourself. Until I get a believable explanation, that’s as close as you get!”
His eyes skimmed her face again and he chuckled softly. “For one so small, you have a dragon’s fire in your belly. Does your pussy burn with the same passion?”
She swallowed, trying to ignore the slick wetness between her legs. It was the wine. It had to be the wine. Well, mostly the wine. Maybe a little of him, too.
Naked him.
Erect him.
Stop it, Forester!
“I can smell your need, my lovely one.” His smirk swept into a gorgeous full on grin and he inhaled, his dark eyes going even darker and she swore he growled or rumbled again or something.
“What is your name?” she asked, this time not taking no for an answer.
His eyes held hers and he inclined his head. “Ryker Dragos. And yours?”
“Camille Forester.” She felt herself blush again, but she didn’t know why.
Chapter Five
“Camille.” His mouth savored the word. “As beautiful a name as any I’ve heard.” He took a step closer closing the gap her hands pushed between them.
She shook her head. “I meant what I said, Ryker. Clothes. My house, my rules.”
“Clothing is not an option unless gifted to me.” He shrugged. The gesture seemed apologetic, but the sentiment didn’t reach his eyes.
“So you’re telling me you have nothing to wear unless I give it to you?”
He nodded. “Yes, and for a warrior it adds another level to my humiliation. For the women who summoned me in the past, clothing was not a necessity. In fact, it was more of an impediment.”
Cami lifted a hand. “My brain can’t absorb any more tonight and I’ve lost the ability to resolve fact from fantasy.” The buzz from the bottle of merlot ebbed and she yawned. “What I need is sleep.”
She turned to head for the stairs, but then stopped, looking back. “I’m assuming because you still claim I summoned you, that you have nowhere else to go except back to the book, right?”
He inclined his head.
“All righty, then. We’ll play this your way until I speak to Gerri tomorrow. I trust her, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you, too. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you want in the refrigerator or in the pantry closet, but first you need to put on some clothes.
“I have some of my brother’s old things in a storage tub upstairs. They might be a little musty, but they’re clean.”
Ryker’s eyes swept her again. “You keep telling me to clothe myself, yet your scent and the way your body responds to mine tell me otherwise.”
She glance at his thickening crotch and coughed. “Uhm, I thought we just covered that.”
He chuckled. “No, but you keep trying to.”
“Trying to?”
“Dude, seriously. You’re so naked.” He chuckled, mimicking her.
Cami couldn’t help but smirk. “I do not sound like that.”
His humor sobered along with his gaze. “No, you do not. Your voice is music to ears that have heard nothing for centuries. I especially liked listening to you talk as you touched yourself. Maybe you can do so again and let me watch.”
Holy Hotness! Butterflies jumped in her stomach at the thought of him watching her masturbate. She didn’t know what to think. Ryker seemed so truthful. Then again, psychotics often lived in their own fantasies.
Except he wasn’t psychotic.
Two words. Gerri Wilder.
Her mental sparring said it all. Ryker’s story was more involved and fantastic than she could ever imagine, but add Mrs. Wilder into the mix and anything was possible.
“C’mon then,” she said. “You can have the guestroom.”
“Guest?” he questioned.
She looked at him. “Yes. Guest. What did you expect?”
He shook his head. “No matter. What I expected is of no consequence.”
Cami blinked, not sure if what she heard was disappointment or relief. If he truly was what he claimed, then maybe he was glad not to have to perform on demand for once in his long existence.
They climbed the stairs in silence, though the weight of his eyes was on her the whole way up.
“You have a tantalizing ass, Camille. If I was not obliged to obey you, I would bury my mouth between your juicy folds right here and now and you would beg for me to share your bed.”
Her clit jerked at the raw words. So much for not having to jump through sex hoops. The guy obviously liked his job.
“You’re not used to being turned down, are you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“No. In that you are correct. The women who summon me have very definite demands. Being told to put clothes on and sleep in another room is definitely a first for me.”
She stepped onto the landing and then walked toward the second room on the left and pushed the door open.
“You should be comfortable in here,” she said snapping on the light. “Towels and guest amenities are under the vanity.” She moved past the bed to the bathroom door and opened that as well.
Camille waited as he took in the room, but he didn’t say a word. Unsure of what to do next, she walked back toward the door.
“My brother’s old gym clothes are in the plastic tub in the closet. Sweats and over-sized tees and a few pairs of shorts. He moved away a long time ago, so you’re welcome to whatever works best for you.”
She turned to leave, but Ryker reached for her arm. Cami froze instinctively, the realization a complete stranger was about to stay the night hitting her like a Mack truck.
“Thank you, Camille,” he whispered. “I’m overwhelmed by your kind heart.”
What was she supposed to say to that? No problem. Try not to kill me in my sleep?
With a simple nod she left the door ajar behind her, praying this wasn’t an epic mistake.
***
Camille turned over and punched the pillow. Exhaustion spiked through every nerve-ending, but sleep was nowhere to be found.
Her door was closed tight and locked, but even so she spied the guestroom light peeking under the bottom jamb.
Tiptoeing to her door, she unlocked the latch and opened it enough to peer into the hall. Ryker’s door was still ajar and every light in his room, on.
What the hell was he doing?
; Barefoot, she padded into the hall in her cotton nightie and listened outside his door. All was quiet except of the mechanical whir of the clock on the night table turning over the minutes.
“Come in, Camille.” His voice called from inside.
Startled, she scrambled for an excuse but came up empty. “I…I…sorry. Go back to sleep.” She hesitated, half turning back to her room, half not.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep.”
Closing her eyes for a moment, she steeled herself before pushing the guestroom door open the rest of the way. This was her house, why should she be embarrassed? It’s not like she was snooping.
“I saw your light and was concerned. I didn’t mean to disturb.”
“You’re not disturbing me. I’m actually grateful for the company. I apologize if the light woke you. I couldn’t bring myself to lay in the dark.”
The look on his face was sincere, as if the thought of being in the pitch dark was unthinkable, even with an open door within reach.
“I see you found a pair of shorts that fit.” She gestured to the black nylon gym shorts resting just below the sculpted V at the base of his torso.
He glanced down and then lifted his eyes again with a soft close-lipped smile. “Fit is putting it loosely, which is more than I can say for the shorts. Is your brother very small, like you?”
“Small? Dude, he’s well over six feet and plays professional hockey.” Looking at Ryker, she chuckled. “But then again, compared to you—” She angled her head. “I’m guessing the sweats didn’t cut it.”
He lifted his hands behind his head and grinned. “If by cut it you mean they were asphyxiating, then yes. They would have cut the circulation to parts, vital parts.” He glanced toward his crotch. “And these shorts barely leave enough room for growth.”
Catching his meaning, heat crept up her cheeks. “Okay, then. Since neither of us can sleep, how about I make us something to eat?”
Ryker grinned and the look was almost predatory. “The thought of food is only surpassed by the thought of pleasuring you.” He slid his legs to the edge of the bed and stood. The motion fluid and sexy.
He closed the distance between them and before she could protest, he slipped a hand behind her head and dipped his lips to hers. His other hand sliding over her waist to the small of her back
Dragon My Heart Around Page 3
