Dragon's Pleasure (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 3)

by Isadora Montrose

  Clive had been plenty pissed when Zeke and his cousin Luther joined the army. And when Patrick and Calvin had signed up with the Reserves, he had gone ballistic. Luther’s death in action had made him even angrier. He had only come round when Cal and Pat had graduated from college and started wearing suits and getting waxed and manicured so they could handle B and B’s affairs.

  But the mere thought of Cal and Pat showing up at the Reserves for training looking like male models had amused Zeke for years. Take a whole platoon to tie him down for manscaping. And the beautician didn’t draw breath who could get him to pluck his eyebrows.

  He was a fricking bear. He liked being a soldier. He loved the Army. It was everything he had ever wanted and he wasn’t going to give it up to please anyone. Of course, the Army had given him up. Had to remember that.

  His discharge papers were probably waiting for him in Colorado right this minute. Medical fucking discharge. He would almost have preferred the court martial and getting what he deserved. His team would at least have got justice.

  A wave of depression rolled over him. He was a washed up soldier at thirty-six. He would be doing everyone a favor if he just put a bullet through his brain. Not that he seemed to have his service revolver. What the hell had he done with that? And surely he had had a flashlight last night? He was a wreck. A used-up screw-up – not worth spit.

  The only person who would really care if he offed himself was Laura. Laura would mourn her cousin. She still thought he was her hero. Her brave cousin. She didn’t know the truth about him. No one did.

  What the hell did he have to offer the lovely, fresh faced woman who had saved his life? Nothing. Bloody nothing. Pretty soon whoever she had made this sweater for would be along to claim her, and there was nothing he could offer Jenna that some other bear couldn’t top. A clean bill of mental health for a start. He wanted to punch something or someone, but he made himself fold his arms over his chest and keep staring out at the snow.

  * * *

  Zeke smelled like he was the one. Masculine. Dependable. Strong. Sexy. She was probably an idiot, building castles in the sky around some stranger just because he smelled good. But his scent laced the air in her house. It called to her and made long dormant feelings emerge.

  Jenna had known she desperately wanted a family of her own. But now it appeared that what she wanted was this particular man and his babies. Her flesh seemed sensitized and her blood was fizzing. Even though he was a rude bastard, she wanted to rush back into the sitting room and smooth things over between them. She wanted to offer herself to him.

  Everyone in her family had always said that when you met your destined mate you knew. That the feelings of connection were immediate and intense. And that your mate would feel them too. Was Zeke feeling the same sense of intimacy, of deep affection and physical certainty? Or was he still too close to his brush with death to feel anything at all?

  Was his brusque manner and active rudeness something she should take personally? Or was it just that he was still recovering? Hypothermia messed up all the body’s systems — heart, lungs, brain. He had to feel crappy this morning. Plus it had to be disorienting to go camping and then find that your truck and all your possessions had been swept away, leaving you lost in a blizzard.

  She couldn’t imagine how even a bearshifter had made it up the mountain to her place in the blizzard. Zeke had to have walked for several hours at least. Even in good weather with perfect visibility it would have been an exhausting hike for a strong man in great condition. How he had made it at all was a pure mystery.

  Fifteen miles of trails lay between the decommissioned Ranger Station and her cabin. After all the rain they had had, she knew they had started muddy. Snow on top would have made them even harder going. It was little wonder his clothes had been in ripped and coated in mud and snow. The real puzzle was why he had not been overcome by exhaustion.

  A weaker man would not have made it. A less tough specimen would have died out in the snow or on her floor. She ought to be making sure that he was okay. Nursing him, not fantasizing about getting him to make love to her.

  By rights he should be in hospital being examined by doctors with the entire panoply of instruments. But she could at least muster sufficient professionalism to take his temperature and listen to his heart and lungs and check his reflexes instead of indulging in adolescent fantasies.

  * * *

  Zeke turned from the window as Jenna called his name. She was looking determined and she was opening a satchel on her table.

  “I should be keeping track of your temperature and blood pressure,” she said apologetically. “You nearly died last night, and I should be keeping track of your vitals.”

  “What are you,” he snarled, “My doctor?”

  “Close,” she said smiling calmly. “Nurse practitioner. I’ve been looking up hypothermia — which I should have done this morning — and by rights you should be on observation for forty-eight hours with IV re-hydration, followed by bed rest and fluids for a week.”

  “Huh.”

  “Of course,” she said cheerfully, “The books apply to humans. They don’t apply to shifters. With our high metabolisms and rapid healing, we’re a different animal altogether. But certainly you ought to be taking it easy today, and replacing your electrolytes and water.”

  “I’m not your patient,” he growled.

  Her face looked hurt and then smoothed out. It was perfectly neutral when she said, “You need food and rest, and you have to keep drinking until you pee.”

  Zeke got up, narrowing his eyes at her. It was a practiced look designed to stop insubordinate troops in their tracks. It had worked on more than a decade’s worth of hard-asses and troublemakers. Jenna’s pleasant expression did not falter. Zeke stomped off to the head clutching his blanket which was coming undone.

  When he returned, a perfectly composed Jenna asked him to take off his sweater and sit on a chair so she could take his blood pressure and listen to his heart. Her stethoscope was cold against his skin but it was the feeling of those soft fingers ruffling his chest hair that made his heart race.

  She moved behind him to listen to his lungs. “Take a deep breath,” she said.

  Zeke inhaled.

  “Breathe out.”

  Zeke complied. Jenna moved her stethoscope around and repeated the procedure. “Your lungs seem to be clear,” she informed him.

  “I’m fine,” he repeated.

  “Did you look for white patches when you were in the bathroom?” Jenna asked him.

  “I did,” Zeke growled. “I’m fine.”

  “Mmm.” Jenna conducted her own examination, pushing his close cropped hair around to look for the telltale signs of dead skin. His scalp was pitted with old white scars and one of his ears was missing a piece beside a narrow furrow on his skull. He was lucky that his hair was so thick that even clipped short his old injuries didn’t show.

  “Hold out your arms,” she instructed. “Close your eyes. Touch your nose. Touch your left ear. Can you feel that?” To test his reflexes, she pricked the palm of one big hand and pinched the back of the other.

  Zeke opened his eyes and glared at Jenna. She ignored his fierce expression and kept her own face pleasantly neutral. But he wasn’t fooled. She was agitated as all get out. Not scared. But excited and aroused. Why was she pretending she was only interested in his health? He had taken off his too tight, too short sweater and was sitting before her bare chested while she examined his skin for damage.

  Her fingers ruffled through the dark curls on his bulging pecs. He heard her breathing change while she parted his chest hair and looked for patches of frostbitten skin. Her scent intensified and became even more enticing.

  Jenna moved around him. “Lean forward,” she said. Her voice was a little huskier than it had been. She swallowed audibly and cleared her throat. I need to be sure your back is okay. Zeke felt her touching the scars on his back, making sure they weren’t frostbitten areas. It was deliciou
s torture. Her professional patter dried up.

  She handed him back the sweater and cleared her throat. “I need to check your glutes,” she said. “Stand up and take the blanket off.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. Zeke crammed the sweater over his head and unwrapped his lower half. Jenna had no doubted expected him to hold the blanket over his privates, but he tossed it on the chair. Let her look.

  Jenna’s soft hands lightly touched a pink scar next to his spine and the other bigger one in the small of his back. She made a little noise that meant exactly nothing, but didn’t comment. Her fingers slid slowly through the lightly furred hollow of his spine and palpitated his buttocks. Her hands moved slowly down the backs of his thighs to the creases of his knees.

  She sighed audibly and pulled down his socks one at a time and ran her hands over his bulging calf muscles, ruffling the curls that covered them. “Did you examine your feet?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll inspect them when I test your reflexes. But so far so good,” she said in a croak. “You can wrap up now.”

  Zeke was feeling better and better. “Don’t you want to check out the family jewels?”

  She choked and gulped. “I’m sure you had a good look yourself,” she said tartly, trying to ignore his cocky grin.

  Zeke tucked the blanket around his lower half. He was warm and getting warmer. Jen stuck her thermometer in his mouth and narrowed her eyes at him, but he just crossed his arms over his chest and stood before her legs spread so his woody tented his blanket.

  “Take off your socks,” she said a little shakily. She cleared her throat. “If you’ll sit down I’ll take a look. Toes are usually the first to lose sensation. “I’m going to check your reflexes.” She pulled out her little hammer and tapped away.

  “You’ve been remarkably lucky. There’s no dead skin, and your temperature and blood pressure are pretty much normal. Reflexes are good too.” Jenna packed up her instruments and latched her satchel. “You should have a nap,” she said sweetly.

  Zeke shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he said trying to keep the growl out of his voice. “I’m a bit tired, and a lot thirsty, but I’m fine.”

  He stood up and loomed over her and his big arms lifted her against his chest. “I’d rather be doing this,” he rumbled as he took her mouth in an urgent kiss. His blanket lost the struggle with gravity and his rock hard erection poked her pillowy belly.

  All Jenna’s good intentions went up in smoke as she caught fire in Zeke’s embrace. His heart was thumping in time with her own and all she could do was clutch at his arms as passion swept her away once more.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jenna’s protests died as Zeke’s mouth ravaged hers. His tongue swept through her mouth like a marauding pirate as he claimed the deepest recesses and sucked her tongue hard. Her hands clutched at his arms as he held her above the floor and plundered her moist cavity.

  This was no leisurely first kiss. This was the ravenous kiss of a long denied lover. Jenna was past thought as she eagerly returned his hungry caresses. His spit tasted of hot man and aroused bear, and had an ambrosial flavor that was all his own. She slanted her head under his and used her tongue to return his ardent probing and claim him in return.

  It was the trembling in his arms that reminded her that he was still recovering from having been chilled to the point of death. She pushed gently at Zeke’s chest. “Put me down,” she said softly. “We can’t do this.”

  Zeke reluctantly set Jenna on her feet, but he kept her in the circle of his arms. “Why not?” he growled. “Are you married?

  She was blushing rosily, but also shaking her head. “Not married. Not anything. But you nearly died last night. You should be resting.” She pulled out of his arms. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  Well, that was a new one, Zeke thought as he lay down on the couch as he had been directed.

  * * *

  Jen opened her back door. The snow had blown higher and she couldn’t even see daylight. She tested it with a cautious finger. It was still soft. Good. She needed to clear a path before dark in case it froze solid overnight and she got trapped indoors.

  Plus the cabin was warmer than usual, even though she was barely feeding the stove. She figured the snow was insulating it on four sides. Five if you counted the roof. Not a good sign.

  Her roof was steeply pitched to shed snow and rain. But if the wind had blown snow against her walls in a heavy bank, there might be no place for the snow to fall off the roof. The cabin could become one gigantic mound of snow. If her chimney got blocked, carbon monoxide poisoning would follow. She needed to go have a look. And she best do it in bear.

  She came out of the kitchen to check on Zeke. He was sitting up on the couch awake and scowling after his nap.

  “I’m going to go look at the roof,” she said. “And maybe see if I can clear the area in front of the back door before dark. I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Let me see.” His sullen expression vanished.

  He strode into the kitchen and looked around. The window over the sink was blank with snow, but the room felt welcoming for all that it was a bit dark. White appliances gleamed and the pale grey counters were immaculate and empty, except for the coffeemaker and a big red stand mixer.

  A door stood open and he poked his head into a big lean-to. On one side here was a narrow door with a frosted glass panel inset into its length. A couple of coats and two huge towels hung on hooks beside the door. On the other wall a tall stack of cord wood was neatly arranged. The door at the end stood open to reveal a wall of snow. He looked around the lean-to. Two pairs of Jenna-sized boots sat tidily on a boot tray next to his muddy Army issue. A broom and a shovel hung beside the wood.

  “How do you plan to tackle this?” he asked, testing the snow with the broom handle. It sank in all the way to the bristles.

  “I’ll take bear,” she said casually, “And dig my way up and climb on the roof.”

  “You won’t get far,” he predicted. “Snow’s too soft. You’ll sink.”

  She laughed. “It’ll be messy,” she agreed grinning. “But I need the exercise. You go take another nap.”

  Another nap. She did think he was a helpless invalid. Zeke shook his head. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

  He sounded exactly like Joey or Lenny. One hundred percent take charge, alpha male. Determined to look out for the little lady.

  “What do you suggest?” Jen asked narrowing her eyes.

  “I’ll come with you. I feel fine now,” he added seeing her objections in her face.

  “In bear?” It was her turn to be dubious. “How heavy is your bear?”

  Zeke shrugged. “How would I know? How heavy are black bears?”

  Jen stared at him. He didn’t know how heavy he was? Like all her cousins, between first change and full grown, she had weighed herself a hundred times on the scale at the Enright lumber yard. She knew exactly what her bear weighed. Three hundred and twenty pounds. Ten pounds heavier than Jo’s. Not that they were competitive. Well, okay, they were competitive.

  “You go back in the sitting room. I need the lean-to to take bear,” she shooed him with her hands.

  Zeke sat on the couch listening to the rustling noises as Jenna took off her clothes. He imagined her folding them neatly and standing there in her pink and white skin. His woody stiffened even more at the thought of those ripe hips and gorgeous breasts. His mouth watered.

  When he thought she must be done he went out to the kitchen unwinding his fluffy sarong. The wall of snow had a ragged bear sized hole in it. He looked around. He would never fit through the doorway in bear. Ah well. He stripped and hung his socks and sweater on the hook and crouched naked inside the tunnel Jen had made.

  His change was slow and he was frozen by the time he had taken bear completely. He stretched his big muscular limbs and set off slowly after Jen, widening the tunnel until he came to where she had burrowed into
daylight. He shook snow off his heavy coat and, in the long shadows cast by the setting sun, looked around at a winter wonderland.

  Jen’s cabin sat in a small clearing surrounded by huge Douglas firs. They were laden with snow and more was falling. The wind had sculpted the snow into a gentle mound right over her house. Jen was leaping about, sinking down and leaping up in a great bound — as if it were all a great game.

  Females.

  Zeke turned back to the tunnel he had widened and used his great forepaws to take off the top of the tunnel. He no longer felt the pain of his transformation nor the cold. Next thing was to see if he could clear the cabin windows. A big object flew through the air and landed beside him making a deep hole. Jen’s black face stuck out and her golden muzzle opened and she whuffed.

  Was she hurt? He moved towards her and she scrambled out and galloped up the slope of the snow bank to the roof. She shoved at the snow on the roof ridge and she and a swathe of snow flew down the roof and made another hole. Grey cedar shakes showed through a layer of shiny ice dusted with snow.

  Her playful game quickly cleared the back slope of the roof. Zeke’s path filled up again with the snow she dumped off on it. He watched her in mixed irritation and bemusement. He didn’t think he should join her. Would her roof take the weight of a male Black? She wouldn’t thank him for falling through. He set himself to clearing the path to her back door once more.

  Jen was having fun. A task that would have been a grueling nightmare for a human female wielding a shovel, was a snap with the strength of her bear. So long as she had the snow bank to catch her, she could play this game all day. Sadly her efforts to unblock the chimney made the snow start to slide down on its own and the last of it shot off and left her cedar shakes mostly bare on both sides. Game over.

  Zeke was carving out holes where her windows were. Good luck with that. The wind would likely fill them up again. Filled with the lighthearted ebullience that being in bear always induced in her, Jenna began to cavort in the clearing in front of her cabin. Of course she sank deep. But swimming in the snow was the bear equivalent of making snow angels. It was fun, fun, fun.