by Jodi Redford
An uncontrollable tremor shook her. With blinding intensity, the orgasm crashed into her, ripping a keening cry from her. Losing control of all basic mobility, she started to fall. Aiden’s arms banded her tight. He lifted, sweeping her up. She clung to him, too boneless and drained to do anything but slump against his chest. His heart pounded beneath her cheek. Good, she’d hate to think she was the only one affected by what just occurred.
“Where is your bedroom?”
“Next door on the right.” She gave a sleepy frown. “Forgot my pajama bottoms.”
“I’ll come back for them.”
He walked the short distance down the hall and elbowed her bedroom door open. Dwindling sunlight streamed through the casement windows, painting the ivory matelassé coverlet with a golden glow. She tried to see the room from Aiden’s perspective. Would he think it too girly? Too frou-frou with its all-white color scheme and lacework pillows?
Why do I care what he thinks? Apparently this was what an explosive orgasm did to her—made her insecure and sappy. Not good. Time to put things back on a level playing field. “Told you I wasn’t the screaming type.”
His mouth curling in an arrogant smile, Aiden pulled down the covers and lowered her gently to the bed. “It sounded suspiciously like one to me.”
“You need to have your ears checked.”
He tucked the coverlet around her before giving her a lingering kiss. She could taste herself on his lips. Rather than gross her out it rekindled a spark of arousal. Thank God she was too tired and boneless to do anything about it.
Straightening his arms, he remained leaning over her, his grin too knowing for her liking. “Didn’t I warn you about the dangers of challenging a dragon?”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you going to do? Kill me with orgasms?”
A wicked and sexy laugh rumbling from his chest, he shoved from the bed and pivoted. The tightest, hottest buns to ever grace a man’s—or dragon’s—backside flexed as Aiden strode toward the doorway. Once he disappeared into the hall, she pulled the pillow over her head with a groan. “Good Lord, I must have a death wish.”
Chapter Eight
It was hard as hell trying to sleep all night with an erection, no pun intended. Add that to having to bunk with Jace, who snored like a freight train was parked in his esophagus, and Aiden considered himself lucky that he managed to log a couple hours of Z’s. Plowing his hands through his rumpled hair, he swung his legs over the side of the air mattress and stood—well, as best he could inside the low-ceilinged tent. He stepped outside. The crisp autumn breeze ruffled over his bare chest and his nipples instantly stood at attention, much as they had the night before when Dana toyed with them. His cock throbbed in fond remembrance. Unfortunately, it also reminded him that he needed to piss something fierce.
He slid a glance toward the house. The windows were still dark. Most likely Dana hadn’t gotten up yet. Rather than waking her and risking her wrath—not to mention the temptation of slipping in bed with her—he strode to the other side of the garage. Loosening the string on his sweatpants, he freed his dick. Not a moment too soon. Uttering a loud groan of relief, he emptied his bladder.
“What are you doing? Jacking off back here?”
Scowling, he tossed a look over his shoulder at Jace. “Jesus, is five seconds to myself too much to ask?”
“Seems to me you had way more than five seconds last night.” Cracking a huge yawn, Jace scratched his chest. “Which leads me to believe the last thing you need is a date with Rosie Palm, you lucky bastard.”
Aiden tucked his cock away without saying anything.
“Fine, you don’t want to kiss and tell.” The sound of Jace scrunching through the leaves preceded the distinct noise of him urinating.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
An incredulous snort fell from Jace. “You expect me to believe you didn’t have sex with her?”
“Yeah, because I didn’t.” Aiden turned to find his brother gaping at him.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Dana isn’t ready for that yet.”
Jace readjusted his sweats. “You mean to tell me you indulged in a half-hour shower and then bitched me out about my puny six-minute splash and dash?”
“She’s on a well. We don’t need to be taxing her water pump.” Aiden averted his gaze. “And I said we didn’t have sex. Doesn’t mean we weren’t doing other things.”
“I knew it, you sneaky son of a bitch.” Jace grabbed the large fir branch propped against the garage wall and snapped it in two.
For a second, Aiden expected Jace to toss him the other half of the stick and call him out in some kind of hokey backwoods duel. Jace tended to be a smartass that way. Instead, Jace broke the branch into an even smaller section. Keeping the part that forked into a spray of needles, he stretched his arm behind him and scruffed the pine bough over his skin.
Aiden grunted. “Leave it to you to invent the world’s first redneck backscratcher.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Jace continued swishing away. “So what’d you do, eat her pussy while she sucked you off?”
“Jesus. You get a vicarious thrill hearing about others’ love lives, don’t you?”
The rustling from the needles stopped and Jace stared at him. “Who the hell mentioned anything about love?”
Fuck. “It’s a figure of speech, for Christ’s sake.”
Jace didn’t exactly appear convinced. “Are you falling for her?”
“Of course not.” Aiden gave a pointed look toward the branch gripped in Jace’s hand. “You must be suffering some kind of weird allergic reaction to fir sap. It’d explain your sudden delusions.”
“Bro, falling in love with Dana would be a lousy mistake. She’s human. Not to mention our fucking sacrifice. If the council even suspects your heart is knotted up over her, they’ll strip you of your alpha ranking and banish you so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
He didn’t need Jace telling him what he already knew. His responsibilities to the Drakoni, to his mother, were top priority. Which meant Dana Cooper could never be anything more than his sacrifice.
Dana awoke from a sexy, decadent dream about her dragon lover worshipping her entire body with his tongue, to an eleven pound tabby with major tuna breath squatting on her sternum. She pinched her nose. “I see we’ve moved on to the bad-morning-breath phase of our battle.” Twisting her torso, she dislodged Ms. Whiskers and tossed back the covers. That’s when she realized she was half naked.
The events from the hall last night came rushing upon her faster than a runaway train. She’d allowed Aiden to pin her against the wall and feast on her like the Tuesday night special at Sven’s all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. Oh yeah—and she hadn’t exactly been an unwilling participant. A wash of heat spread over her skin.
“Ugh, it’s too early in the morning for wallowing in endless mortification.” She peeked at the clock on the bedside table and blinked at the numerals displayed. Eight fifty.
Crap, she’d forgotten to set the damn alarm. The Ren fair would be opening in a little over an hour—which wasn’t a big deal, except it took her forty minutes to drive to the blasted thing.
She leapt off the mattress, scaring the bejeebers out of poor Ms. Whiskers, and raced to the closet. After jerking on panties and a bra, she wiggled into the wench dress and did the fastest makeup job ever. Praying she didn’t look like a psychotic clown from the dark ages, she streaked into the kitchen and filled the cat bowl before grabbing a bagel. Anchoring the bagel between her teeth, she snatched her cell phone, keys, and the Ziploc bag containing her ID and stash of money. Satisfied she had all the essentials, she barreled out the door. Aiden and Jace stood in front of their tent, arguing about something. They stopped long enough to frown at her. Good thing she was running late, otherwise she might have wasted away the morning just ogling their naked chests.
Yanking open POC’s door, she climbed behind the wheel. From the corner of her eye, she spied Aiden jo
gging toward her. The sight of all those rippling muscles and acres of yummy golden flesh was positively drool worthy. Swallowing hard, she jammed the key into the ignition. The engine turned over with a cranky groan.
Aiden slammed to a halt, his hand curving around the frame of POC’s opened door. “Where are you going?”
Snagging the bagel from her teeth, she gestured to her dress. “Where do you think?”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Uh, thanks for the calendar update.” She tore her scrutiny from his firm lips, trying not to think about where they’d been the night before. “The Ren fair is only open on the weekends. So if you don’t mind, I need to get my ass moving before I lose out on potential sales.” How strange to think that yesterday she’d assumed her gloomy financial straits were the only thing she needed to worry about. If nothing else, discovering she was a dragon’s sacrifice really put things in perspective.
Aiden released the doorframe. “Jace and I will get dressed and meet you there.”
“You don’t—”
“Yes, we do.” His jaw set, he shut the door and stalked away. He didn’t get to see the obscene gestures she directed at his retreating back, which was sort of a let down.
Ripping a bite out of her bagel, she shifted into reverse and backed from the driveway.
She spent the majority of the next forty minutes trying to decide what she longed to do more—knock Aiden on his cute little buns or take that gorgeous cock of his in her mouth and bring him whimpering to his knees. Unfortunately, the second choice was getting a resounding thumbs up from her overtaxed hormones.
Flushed and uncomfortably aroused, she wheeled the Suburban into the Ren fair’s lot and parked in her customary spot in the vendor section. At least there were two bright spots on her day. She didn’t have to worry about carting a bunch of stuff across the fairgrounds, and Calvin didn’t seem to be stalking her in his customary fashion. Maybe he really had gotten the message yesterday.
Waving to the pickle hawker, she strolled to her booth. Haddie met her in the entrance, her brown eyes glittering with curiosity. “There you are. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”
“I overslept.”
“Let me guess. Someone kept you up late last night?”
Dana wondered what the deal was with Haddie’s wicked cackle but then she remembered the taunting she’d given Haddie yesterday about the oracle. “Nope. I’m happy to report there were no visitations from Elvis’s ghost.” At least she didn’t think so. Truthfully, she’d been sawing logs shortly after her head hit the pillow. A herd of rhinos wearing rhinestone jumpsuits could have charged through her room and she would have been oblivious.
“What about those handsome twins?”
Haddie’s casual question nearly bowled Dana over. She gawked at the older woman. “How in the world do you know about them?”
“Sheesh, how many times do I have to say it? Dear, I’m psychic.” Haddie threw her arms skyward. “You’d think the outfit would be a dead giveaway.”
Dana did a quick sweep of Haddie’s assemble. Today she wore a bright pink crushed velvet cape. “Well, yeah. But I thought your ability was limited to tarot cards.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Wait, so does this mean you know what they are?”
“Yes, dear. They’re the lovers the oracle promised you.” Haddie’s expression turned naughty. “Still convinced you’re going to turn your back on those strapping young men?”
“Hell yeah. Because they’re not men. They’re freakin’ dragons.”
Haddie’s lips dipped into a frown only to be replaced a second later by a toothy smile. She snapped her fingers. “I knew there was something off about their auras.”
Why was she not surprised that Haddie didn’t find it the least bit odd there were living, breathing dragons walking the face of the earth?
“Dearie, don’t hold their genetics against them. We should all embrace each other’s differences. The world would be such a better place.”
“This isn’t a matter of them possessing a different set of chromosomes. Aiden and Jace are a whole other species.”
Haddie looked like she wanted to argue the subject into the ground. Fortunately, the insistent strains of Bewitched came from Dana’s dress, saving her from a potential migraine. Digging in her pocket, she pulled out her cell and peered at the display. Emmaline. Dana groaned. So much for no headache. She clicked the talk button. “Yes, I forgot to call. I’m sorry. No, I still have all my body parts. Of course I didn’t sleep with them. What kind of floozy do you take me for?” Jeez, good thing she didn’t see me last night. “Oh wow, a horde of customers just showed up. I’m going to have to call you later. Love you. Bye.” Feeling slightly guilty, she hung up. It was either that or the alternative—staying on the line and risk being busted by Emmaline. Her aunt was scary when it came to ferreting out things better left unrevealed.
“Hah, speak of the devils.”
Stuffing her phone in her pocket, Dana turned, following Haddie’s stare. Aiden and Jace were striding toward her booth. She gulped, overwhelmed all over again by how big and utterly delicious they were. The sweatpants had been replaced by jeans and a long-sleeved crewneck on Jace, and khakis and a camel-colored Henley on Aiden. They were both eyeing her with that predatory look she was beginning to think of as their personal hallmark. Must be a dragon thing.
She stacked her arms over her chest. “What’d you do, lay on the gas the entire way over here?”
Jace chuckled. “Sounds like my brother wasn’t the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Interesting coincidence, eh?”
Dana seared Jace with a death glare and his unrepentant grin widened. A gust of wind jostled the overhead leaves and Jace’s nose twitched. He jerked his head around.
“I smell pie. Must go investigate.” Swiveling, Jace loped in the direction of the bakery.
Haddie shook her head. “Amazing. That stand is clear across the fairgrounds.”
“Trust me, if there’s food within a ten-mile radius, my brother will sniff it out.”
“My grandson is like that,” Haddie said with a laugh. “A bottomless pit. The kid works real hard at eating me out of house and home.”
Listening to Haddie, Dana started to germinate a seed of a plan. If she played her cards right, she just might encourage Aiden and Jace to rethink the wisdom in making her their sacrifice.
Chapter Nine
Spending the entire day within a few feet of Dana and not touching her was torture for Aiden. Particularly when flashes of the previous night kept replaying within his head like an endless, X-rated movie reel. The softness of her skin beneath his hands. The tight, wet clasp of her pussy around his fingers. Her sweet cries bouncing off the walls. He’d nearly come right along with her.
He needed to get a grip before he completely lost it.
“Bro, what’s up with you?”
Aiden met Jace’s concerned expression and whistled out a breath. “Nothing. Guess I’m just a little restless.” Jesus, that’s an understatement.
“Why don’t you take a walkabout? You could use a change of scenery, since you’ve been stuck here all damn day.”
“No, I’m fine,” Aiden said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly.
Jace scowled. “I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”
“I know that.”
“Then prove it and take a fucking walk.”
Gritting his teeth, Aiden pushed from the exterior wall of Dana’s booth and stalked down the narrow lane of artists’ huts. Though it was less than two hours until the close of the festival, the crowd remained at full capacity. Dana had received a steady flow of traffic throughout the day, but he hadn’t missed the way her shoulders drooped a fraction lower every time someone strolled away without purchasing anything. It killed him to witness her dejection.
Didn’t these people recognize talent when they saw it? Idiots, the whole lot of them.
The glint of meta
l across the way caught his eye. Taking a shortcut past the jousting field, he entered a wood-shingled booth nestled in the trees. Exquisitely crafted swords lined a long oak counter. A prominently displayed sign pronouncing Touch and lose a finger at your own risk hung nearby. For those who doubted its sincerity, a hawk-eyed vendor diligently patrolled the cramped space.
Aiden approached a wickedly sharp-looking double-edged sword, his gaze sweeping its elaborate dragon’s claw hilt. He bent for a closer inspection. The details were eerily realistic, right down to the texture of the scales. Without question, he knew he was staring at a larger representation of the silver claw his mother always kept around her neck. What the fuck?
Straightening, he glanced toward the vendor camped in the corner. The man was dressed in Viking garb, complete with a fur pelt thrown over his wide shoulders and a formidable horned helmet perched on his head. Despite the fellow’s appearance, Aiden sincerely doubted the man spent his days pillaging villages. Or hanging out with dragons. So how the blazes did the man get his hands on a nine-hundred-year-old design for the Drakoni insignia?
He elbowed a path through the milling shoppers, making his way to the vendor. The man saw him coming and immediately ditched his menacing glower.
“Aye, milord, something I can help ye find?” The man’s thick Jersey accent destroyed the whole Viking vibe.
“No, I’m curious about one of your swords. The one with the dragon claw.”
The man nodded. “Isn’t she a beaut? Claud knocked herself out on that one.”
“Claud?”
“Yeah, the artist.” The man swiveled his head, nearly taking Aiden’s eye out with one of the horn tips. “Now where’d she go? Girl disappears faster than goddamn David Copperfield.”
A prickling sensation crawled along the back of Aiden’s neck. Jerking around, he locked gazes with a female standing across the way. She was tall, probably close to six feet, with jet-black hair highlighted with neon pink streaks. Her only concession to the Renaissance theme was the fur stole draped over her shoulders—an exact match to the one on the Viking. Unlike her comrade, Aiden didn’t doubt for a second that she spent her every waking second pillaging villages. Hell, Claudia Knoxville came from a wild, renegade line of dragons that’d reaped a small fortune pirating the seven seas, and she proudly carried on the family tradition. If there was a dirty deed needing done, Claudia was the go-to girl. If you could afford to pay her price.
