Autumn let herself sink into the kiss, savoring Kirall’s spicy flavor. This was her mate. She was finally home.
“I can’t wait to get you to our home on Mondu,” he murmured against her lips. “I will teach you everything my parents taught me. I will show you how to call your Dragon; how to control your fire; and how to spread your wings and fly on the updrafts surrounding my home.”
“Why can’t you teach me now?” she asked, pouting slightly as she looked up at him.
“Do you remember what I told you about my younger brother, Zeb?” he asked, fighting the need to just give into her.
“You mean about him torching your sister’s hair?”
“Yes. We are in space, Autumn. Uncontrolled Dragon fire does not work so well out here.”
“Oh, I see.” She gave him a hesitant look.
“What?” he asked, seeing she had something she wanted to say.
“Would you be very upset if we didn’t live in your home in the Papier Mountains?” She bit her upper lip as she waited for his answer.
“I…What???” Kirall frowned. “But if not there, then where?”
“How would you feel about living in Kruba?”
“Kruba?!!”
“Yes. Razeth asked that we live there, that his power would recognize me and welcome us.”
“It would,” Kirall agreed. “I just never considered…Kruba…”
“So it would be okay if we lived there?”
“It would, my little Aud-um.” Kirall repositioned her on the counter. “Although we may need to set up special protections so members of my family don’t just show up.”
“I would love for your family to do that,” she told him, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Really...because I plan on keeping you naked and loving you in every room of Kruba for at least the next hundred years.” His cock nudged the entrance to her lair.
“Oh,” she gasped, desire filling her. “Well, I see what you mean. We can’t have them interrupting us all the time.” And with that she let her mate love her.
About the Author
Michelle has always loved to read, and writing is just a natural extension of this for her. Growing up, she always loved to extend the stories of books she’d read, just to see where the characters went. Happily married for over twenty-five years, she is the proud mother of two grown children, and with the house empty has found time to write again. You can reach her at [email protected] or her website at www.mkeidem.com. She’d love to hear your comments.
Additional Books
Cassandra’s Challenge: The Imperial Series, Book 1
Victoria’s Challenge: The Imperial Series, Book 2
Jacinda’s Challenge: The Imperial Series, Book 3
Grim: Tornians Book 1
A Grim Holiday: Tornians Book 1.5
Wray: Tornians Book 2
Ynyr: Tornians Book 3
Oryon: Tornians Book 3.5
A Dragon’s Promise
By J. A. Hornbuckle
A novella in the Bound By Heat © anthology
Copyright © 2015 by J. A. Hornbuckle
Chapter One
I knew this job was gonna be a helluva a lot different than I’d expected when I found myself cutting the noose off a dragon.
True, it was only a stuffed one adorned with a handwritten sign jauntily pinned to its front while encouraging it to ‘Die, Spawn of Satan’ as it’s plush body swung over the front entrance of the location of my new employment. The rope it hung from wasn’t all that thick although I found myself in trouble since I’d only grabbed a simple serrated, kitchen knife in order to gain its release.
The ladder I precariously perched on wobbled and I braced a hand on the rough, stucco surface of the building as my stomach dropped. “I need you to hold tighter, Leilani.”
The pop of her gum was her reply, but the ladder steadied enough for me to complete my task. Once back on the sidewalk, I took a moment to study what I’d cut down only idly noting it appeared to be homemade, the blue plush material stitched on someone’s sewing machine and adorned with sequins to give it a more realism.
I wasn’t sure about the red eyes, though. From what I’d seen in my YouTube searches, no dragons who’d pledged to protect our planet had red, sinister eyes.
I glanced back up at the hook it had been tied on. “How do you think they hung it without anyone seeing?”
“Where there’s a will…” Leilani’s laconic reply came with an indifferent shrug. “Someone’s always warning us against the WarDrags. Tagging the windows with bible verses is the worst of it, since you gotta use a scraper to get that shit off.”
She folded the six-foot ladder and blinked her big, heavily mascaraed, baby browns at me on another pop of her gum. “You wanna get the door?”
I felt heat begin to creep up my neck as I snagged the brass handle. While I was freaking out over the venom of the note, the employee assigned to show me the where, when and what of my new job wasn’t the least bit fazed.
What had I gotten myself into?
Letting the door bang against my butt, I gave my eyes time to adjust to the much darker confines of the bar. “Shouldn’t we report this to the police?”
One of the two male bartenders of my crew commandeered the ladder balanced on Leilani’s shoulder. “Nah. We used to call them out, make a formal complaint, et cetera, et cetera. But we finally stopped when the cops said the only charge we could make would be, ah…” He directed a confused frown to the shorter, dark haired girl by his side.
“Malicious mischief,” Leilani supplied. Twisting on a platformed heel, she strolled towards the bar on fulsome, swaying hips barely contained by her hot pink short, shorts. It wasn’t until she’d cleared the corner of the wood counter that the tall, lean guy—I think his name was Colin—looked my way again.
“This shi…erm, stuff happens all the time. Don’t let it get to you.” Easy for him to say.
I’d worked a lot of rough places in my mad dash to reach a manager position within the adult-beverage industry. Whether it was a low-keyed neighborhood joint or a titty bar, a college dive or a gentleman’s club, I’d learned to spot trouble when it was about to happen and could wield a bat with the best of them while still smiling and pouring drinks.
But this? Daryl had said nothing about this particular brand of crap when he’d hired me as one of his beverage managers.
I probably should’ve clued in when I saw the small Celtic dragon icon on the cocktail napkins and coasters. At first, I disregarded the design figuring it was just marketing gimmick. But all it took was a well-timed question to the laid-back Leilani to learn that image was what the town used to symbolize which businesses were ‘friendly to dragonkind’.
It’d never occurred to me anyone would be against them. Every new state, new city and new job was bound to have a learning curve. I just hadn’t planned on this one being quite so steep, so fast.
Leilani let go with a pop of her gum so loud it rivaled a gunshot, overriding the hard-driving rock and roll coming from speakers suspended in every corner. “Hey, are you here to learn or what?”
I stole a look at my watch as I high-tailed it behind the bar. Only forty-five minutes in to my shift and one of the ones I’d been hired to lead was reminding me to get my ass back in the game.
It was gonna be a long day.
*.*.*.*.*
Eleven pairs of steel-toed boots on metal stairs created quite a ruckus as Ti’eron and ten of the fifty Dragon Warriors in his squadron made their way down from the roof. None of them used the street-level entrance to the bar anymore, unwilling to push their way through the throngs of protestors who hurled epitaphs, used their placards as weapons or spewed their own personal vitriol on the heads of those created to save them.
Neither he nor his men were abominations and today’s skirmish had proven it.
Eschewing the last six steps, Ti’eron leaped and grabbed the door handle. “First drinks are on me.”
Cheers echoed in the stairwell and he tried to hide his smile. As the new commander of the Bronze squad and the youngest as well, Ti’eron wanted to reward those under his command especially after their first taste of battle. Each and every Bronze Dragon Warrior had availed himself well, destroying the Berstat scouting wave before they reached Earth’s surface. It was what each and every one of them had been trained for and had finally, fucking finally, been allowed to do.
Stepping through the door, Ti’eron dampened his dragon senses knowing from experience the aromas of stale beer, unwashed bodies and residual cigarette fumes scenting the air would give him a headache. But he was determined to recompense his men in some way for their first valiant, flaming efforts in the skies that day. Even though none of them could get drunk from alcohol, sharing a drink with his warriors seemed an appropriate celebration.
For their human sides anyway.
A nap would work for me. Ver’gren sighed deep within Ti’eron’s mind and caused a smile to tilt a corner of the human male’s mouth. It had taken a couple of years for him to become accustomed to having another voice in his head, sharing all his thoughts and sometimes controlling his movements. They’d eventually worked their co-existence out, to the point Ti’eron could barely remember what his life was like before his dragon, Ver’gren, emerged from hibernation.
As his men veered towards the group of Blue dragons tucked into a corner on the far edge of the empty dance floor, Ti’eron zeroed in on the bar.
She’s here! Ver’gren trumpeted. Our Annie’s here!
Ti’eron didn’t try to stop his eye-roll at his dragon’s proclamation. Sure she is, he replied without words, trying to keep his patience in check.
Up until recently, an Annie-sighting only occurred infrequently—a couple of times per annum—but over the last six months, Ver’gren had insisted the girl Ti’eron loved and treasured in his early years was close by. He’d learned to ignore it when on a routine flight from Seattle; heading back to their station on one of the peaks in the mountains of Montana, Ver’gren had insisted she was just below them. Twelve thousand feet was no altitude to announce the only female Ti’eron had ever truly wanted was nearby.
“Five pitchers of whatever you have on tap and eleven glasses. If you could deliver it to the table over there, that’d be great.” Ti’eron slid his credit card across the width of the poly-urethane top of the bar, his fingertips connecting with hers as she reached for the bit of plastic. A sparkling fissure opened, sliding along his skin. He raised his eyes to hers as goose-bumps skittered before settling in his leather-bound crotch.
I told you, Ver’gren preened.
But Ti’eron didn’t answer, his eyes devouring the face before him. Midnight black hair, high, naturally-colored pink cheekbones and a full, puffy mouth only meant the bartender, along with thousands of other women, had Annie’s coloring.
Although the shimmering green of her irises, the heavy lids studded with long, thick lashes set her apart from the rest and gave more credence to Ver’gren’s claim. Ti’eron’s manhood harden almost to the point of pain as he and the woman shared a long look.
“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile that didn’t hit anywhere near her amazing eyes. “Do you want to start a tab or is this a one-off?”
“A tab, please.” Christ! Was that him? The deep, grumbling growl exploding from his lips sounded nothing like his voice. He was mesmerized, absolutely determined to disprove the dragon residing within him, while every molecule in his body surged towards the female directly across from him.
Number one, the woman was tall, much taller than the girl he’d left behind who had been reed-thin and twice as clumsy—with no moves like the graceful dance the woman performed as she swiped his card before reaching to snap up the required pitchers in both hands.
She’s our Annie. Ver’gren was a moody beast at best, always allowing his emotions to bleed through their connection, so the satisfaction suffusing Ti’eron’s body shouldn’t have been a shock.
But it was.
Especially when the other half of himself purred in sexual appreciation at the sight of the woman’s full chest and heart-shaped ass as she moved along the counter, working to fulfill Ti’eron’s order. She’s grown much. Your memories of her were of a younger girl. And she likes us!
There was no denying the dragon’s words even if Ti’eron still didn’t believe Ver’gren’s summation.
After he’d been taken to the secret facility housing other teens who’d gone through their dragon fury, he’d searched every available record for the girl he’d pledged to be with for the rest of his life.
But he had been cut off at every turn as she’d aged out of the foster-care system.
He couldn’t help his curiosity, the one riding him hard as he’d tried to determine what had happened to the girl he’d believed was his own.
Ti’eron needed confirmation either to the ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ of who the beauty actually was. “I’m Ti’eron, commander of the Bronze squad. And you are?”
“Adri,” she replied as her smile brightened her gaze. “I’m the new second shift manager.” Her hand reached across, capturing his for a one-pump, half-hearted how-do-you-do. A limp move that left his body throbbing. “Nice to meet you.”
He hated to admit it, but damn! Ver’gren might’ve found the right end of the stick this time.
*.*.*.*.*
I forced my eyes to remain without emotion, thinking instead on the job he’d given me as I stopped in place at the swirling cerulean blue eyes I couldn’t seem to disconnect from.
The warrior on the other side of the bar was both tall and built. His sleeveless, long, leather vest exposed golden muscled shoulders and arms rivaling those of the many romance novels I sucked in during my down time. The wedge of his abs, exposed only by the tiny vee of his top almost had me drooling…and in more places than just one.
Despite my internal squeeing and twirling in meeting a WarDrag face-to-face, I was determined to show both the long-haired badass, as well as the ever-watchful Leilani, I was a professional. Though it must be said, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
Especially after we touched.
Yeah, yeah, it was a simple handshake that didn’t include the palm-to-palm thingy. But it still made me moist in areas I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Just let me know when you want to cash out.” Why was my mouth moving? I hadn’t given it permission to speak but it just blathered on without my approval. “Have fun.”
Jay-sus.
Was I really that kind of girl? One who got all hot and bothered by the unforgivably gorgeous men who comprised the dragon squads sworn to protect Earth from those bugs determined to steal our natural resources?
As he turned away, I surreptitiously glanced at his ass unsurprised to find it was as delicious as the rest of him. I looked to the other warriors, the ones wearing blue leathers as well as those sporting the coppery-brown.
Nope, nothing.
They didn’t affect me in the least although they were all gorgeous with amazing physiques.
So what was it about this guy, this Terran? Wait. That’s not how he’d spoken his name. There’d been a hesitation in the middle of it. Tee-air-ran. Yeah, that was how he’d pronounced it.
I yanked on the handle on one of the most expensive kegs we had on draft, filling the pitchers he’d requested. Okay, so you like guys with long, brown hair, I told myself. And that little spark? The one that sizzled when he touched you? Sorry to say, girlie, that wasn’t nothing but static electricity.
But even at the local grocery store, where every metal shelf was a lesson in static-sparked torture, I’d never blazed, thrilled at the feel of its electrical charge in every pink part on my body.
Shaking my head, I piled the required amount of glasses onto another, separate tray. “Table fourteen and fifteen,” I announced. Oh hell to the no. I wasn’t schlepping the frosted beer steins and frothy pitchers out to the tables.
Not to
them.
To him.
I was, after all, the new manager of the second shift at Toxic.
In my new lofty position, I could totally hide behind the bar if I wanted to.
Chapter Two
Ti’eron couldn’t keep his gaze off her. There was just something about the woman who called to both him and his dragon. A female who couldn’t seem to remain quiet, in either word or movement, when they’d been front and center before her.
She desires us.
Oh yeah, she did. He’d long ago determined how a female reacted while in the throes of sexual heat and for her, that Adri? She was primed although they’d shared nothing more than a long look and a brief, limp touch. Seating himself in one of the unclaimed chairs, Ti’eron broke the hold their eyes continued to share.
“Eleven glasses,” the dark-haired sprite in trousers too short to be called anything other than panties announced as she began to pass the frosted glasses around the small tables his men had pushed together. He noticed more than a couple of his warriors adjusting themselves in their leathers as she bent, ass tipped towards the ceiling while she doled out mugs, deliberately staring into each and every warrior’s eyes as she set their glass in front of them. At her antics, her studied way of deducing who was and wasn’t readily available and willing to taste her charms, Ti’eron dropped his eyes as his fingers surrounded the frosted glass on offer. “Colin is bringing you five pitchers of our finest.”
Lor’gen, one of Ti’eron’s seconds, pulled the tiny beauty into his lap, his nose nuzzling the space between her neck and shoulder as a large palm moved over the mounds contained in her skimpy, striped, stomach-baring, t-shirt. “While I’m a fan of what you brought, I’d much prefer a taste of you, little one.”
Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter Page 15
