Dragon Addiction (Onyx Dragons Book 3)

by Amelia Jade

  “You shouldn’t be here,” the first guard said after inspecting her badge.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you here?” the second guard asked. He was older, more seasoned, and Marie knew that a simple apology wouldn’t do it for him. She would have to think quickly. What sort of story would he not want to hear about?

  “There was this guy,” she said, forcing herself to pout. “I thought he was a nice guy at first. Smooth-talker, good-looking.” She sighed dramatically. “He said I was the only one.”

  The older guard was almost rolling his eyes already, and she’d barely started.

  “Let me guess,” he rumbled. “You weren’t.”

  “No, the asshole. I caught him with some slut from administration. And you know what he said to me?”

  “No, I don’t.” Both soldiers were looking bored by now, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many times they’d done something similar.

  “He told me that it was just a blowjob! Can you believe that? As if that makes it better.”

  Audible sighs filled the space around them as she got herself more and more worked up.

  “Listen, ma’am.”

  “No, I’m not done! So I came over here, because he said he has an inspection coming up. So I’m going to find his vehicle, and then I’m going to mess it all up. That’ll teach him, right?”

  The guards exchanged looks. “Ma’am,” the older one said. “You know it’s a criminal offense to deface government property, right?”

  “What?” She looked back and forth at them, letting the panic she felt at getting caught reflect on her face, hoping they would interpret it as her panic that she was going to get in trouble for something else. “But I didn’t do anything! I swear, I was just looking.”

  “Which is why, if you leave now, we won’t report this or anything,” the older guard said. “Okay?”

  “Okay, deal.” She looked around. “What’s the fastest way out of here?”

  The younger guard, at a cue from his superior, gestured for her to follow as he escorted her from the building.

  “Thank you,” she said profusely. “I promise, I won’t do this again.” Today.

  “I know, ma’am. Now go on, before we’re forced to do something we don’t want to.”

  She nodded and hurried off.

  “Oh, and a word of advice?”

  Marie paused. “Yes?”

  “Stay away from the soldiers here. You’re too nice for us. We’d just hurt you.”

  He dipped his head once and then went back inside.

  “Well that was unexpected,” she muttered. I didn’t think any of you were that self-aware. Interesting.

  Marie hurried back to the club, having already been gone longer than she wanted. The trip across base had taken far longer than expected. She couldn’t drive over, nor could she appear hurried. By the time she got back it had been nearly two hours, including the time spent searching the motor pool.

  Two hours for a fruitless search and nearly a trip to the detention center. What a waste.

  “Where have you been?” Jamie hissed, coming up from behind her as she walked inside. “Q is in your office and he’s furious!”

  “Fuck me,” she groaned. “You’re joking, right? This is a cruel joke. I can’t deal with this right now, Jamie. Don’t fuck with me.”

  Jamie looked pained. “I wish I could say that. No, he’s really in there, and he’s on the warpath.”

  “What happened?” She slowed her walk, wanting to get completely caught up before confronting her irate boss.

  “One of the infantry mess halls had a water leak I guess. So they sent everyone over here.” Jamie paused. “All five hundred of them.”

  “Fuck meeee,” she groaned again. “That is not fair!”

  The officers’ club could handle that many at once. If they had fair warning. But a sudden and unexpected surge of that many mouths to feed would have sent the kitchen into a frenzy. All of it without its head around. Jamie would have done the best he could, but she had been needed there. And she had been elsewhere. This was not going to be pretty. In fact, it was going to be downright ugly.

  “Anything else?”

  Jamie shook his head.

  “Great. Wish me luck.”

  “Break a leg,” Jamie muttered under his breath.

  Marie flipped him the finger, but she didn’t stop walking into her office. The sooner she got the chewing-out started, the sooner she could be done and get back to doing important things. Like searching for that damn car.

  She knocked at the door, gritting her teeth. It was her office. She shouldn’t feel like the stranger there.

  “Come in.” The voice that called through the door was weak. Watery. A perfect reflection of the man it belonged to if he wasn’t in a position of power.

  Stepping inside felt a little like stepping into the lion’s den. If the lion was about forty-eight years old, nearly three hundred pounds, and standing perhaps five foot nine. The lion’s mane was wispy thin strands of black hair combed back over a shiny bald head that seemed to be constantly sweating. Add in thick-rimmed spectacles and your lion was complete.

  “Marie.” He tried to greet her with an intimidating single word.

  “John.”

  It infuriated him not to be called Q, and she knew it. But Marie was irritated by the way he was sitting comfortably behind her desk, like he owned the place. His arrogance was legendary, and she hated him for it.

  “Good to see you.”

  Marie declined to respond. Anything she said to echo that would be a bald-faced lie. Besides, John wanted to feel like he was in charge, so she was going to let him.

  “It would have been nicer to see you a few hours ago. When you were needed.”

  She kept quiet once more, not wanting to get drawn into the useless back and forth. They both knew why she was in there, and what he was going to say.

  “Where were you, Marie?”

  “I needed some air.”

  “For two hours?”

  “It was really needed.”

  John sneered. “Let me guess, is it that time of the month again?”

  Marie held on to her temper by the weakest of threads, a hairbreadth away from laying into him. John was a relentless sexist who disapproved of women in the combat arms, or any position of authority. He felt they were best served in the kitchen making food, or on their backs for pleasure and procreation.

  John was also very, very single.

  She seethed silently, waiting for him to continue speaking, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cracking. Marie waited several seconds, but when she refused to give in he sighed unhappily.

  “You went AWOL, Marie.”

  “We’re not in the military, John.”

  It grated on her when he tried to trade upon his former career in the military. As if using phrases and terms he learned there made him superior to her in some way. It was just another reason why he was almost universally hated. Marie wondered just what dirt he had on Major Von Kamp, the base commander, that allowed him to keep his job.

  “Either way, you weren’t doing your job. The job you were paid to do. We had a situation here that required everyone to make it work, and you were off gallivanting around doing who knows what. That’s unacceptable.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, John. I promise.” Now was the time to grovel just a little, to make it appear that she was appropriately upset and chastised.

  “It had better not,” he huffed. “I’ve covered for you for long enough, Marie. This is it. If it happens again, you’re gone. There will be nothing I can do about it.”

  Covered for her? She just about lost her cool once again. John had done nothing but impede her ability to do her job since the day she’d been hired as a line cook in the infantry mess hall. The asshole thought he’d been helping her? Marie had to force herself not to jump across the desk and choke the life out of the bastard.

 
“I understand.” If her voice didn’t sound very meek, well too fucking bad for him. She was done taking his shit. “I’m going to get out there and make sure everything goes smoothly from here on out.”

  “As you should.” He waggled his fingers dismissively in her direction.

  From behind her desk.

  Marie turned on her heel and left, positive that veins were popping out in her neck at the way she’d just been treated. She really needed to find that car.

  Or him.

  Chapter Eight

  Garath

  “These are pretty nice digs, I must say.”

  “Thanks.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Garath hadn’t chosen the décor. Or the furniture. There wasn’t a single thing in the entire place he’d chosen. It had all been prepared for him by someone else.

  “Where’d you get this?” Marie pointed to a mirror on the wall.

  “Can’t remember.” It was a truthful lie, he told himself. After all, Garath couldn’t remember. Then again, he’d never known in the first place. It was time to distract her.

  “Anyway, I think I’ve mastered those dinners you showed me,” he said proudly. “Are you hungry? I grabbed a few more selections, so I was sure I had something you liked.”

  Marie giggled. “Mastered TV dinners, have you?”

  He nodded. “Yes. It took a little while, I’m not going to lie.”

  “Oh?”

  “They are not correctly named. You have to use the microwave on them.” He pulled open the freezer door. “Here, take your pick.”

  Marie walked over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Of course you use the microwave.” She sounded puzzled. “What did you try to use?”

  Garath blinked. “The TV of course. Like the name says.”

  “You’re joking?”

  He frowned. “No, why would I be? It says right on the label, TV dinner. So I tried to use the TV to microwave them.” He shook his head. “Who knew that the microwave was an actual appliance.”

  Marie was unable to hold her composure. She leaned against him, laughing into his shoulder as he spoke. By the time he finished there were tears soaking his shirt.

  “How is it you’re so clueless about all this?” she wheezed, struggling to breathe through the laughter.

  Garath slowly closed the freezer door, feeling embarrassed and stupid in front of his mate. This was not the way to win her over! He needed to be an expert at everything she needed him to be.

  “I…grew up sheltered,” he said, searching for a word that would work, without raising too many questions.

  “I can tell. Okay, do you have anything else?”

  He pointed at the fridge, yanking open the door. “Yeah. There’s some stuff delivered every other day, but I don’t know what to do with half of it.”

  Marie brightened as she took stock of the contents of the fridge. Garath quietly watched as she scanned the various items, her brain cataloging them all.

  “There’s lots of things I could make in here.”

  Her, make dinner? No, that wasn’t how he was supposed to court her. Not while he was supposed to be the one providing.

  “I’ll make us something,” he growled, stepping forward.

  Marie straightened from looking into the fridge, arms crossing in front of her. “Why are you being stubborn? What’s wrong with me making something?”

  “Because you shouldn’t have to. I should provide for you.”

  She backed up slightly, the better to stare up at his face despite the height difference. She was so small and delicate, his protective instincts were screaming, clamoring at him to step forward as her protector. Even more, to announce himself to her then and there, revealing his true nature and that she was his mate. But he couldn’t, not yet. She wasn’t ready to hear something like that. Soon though. He wouldn’t wait much longer. He couldn’t.

  “Out of the two of us, who is the trained and experienced cook, who also happens to now run the best officers’ club kitchen on the West Coast?”

  Garath glowered unhappily. He didn’t like his mate having to do any work. He was supposed to take care of her. That was his job, the reason for his existence. To provide for Marie.

  “Don’t pout,” she teased. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I’m not pouting. I’m glowering. There’s a difference.”

  “Is that so? Care to explain?”

  Garath opened his mouth to do just that. He wasn’t pouting after all. That would imply he was upset he wasn’t getting his way. Glowering, however, was something one did when they didn’t like what was happening. It was completely different, two situations that did not relate to one another at all. Why, it was preposterous that she couldn’t tell the difference. It was so easy after all. He didn’t like what was happening, because he didn’t want her to have to work. It was different. Wasn’t it?

  “You know, if you keep your mouth open long enough, the flies will start to nest there.”

  He snapped his jaws closed. “That’s not fair.”

  Marie laughed and wrapped her arms around him, leaning in close. “No, it’s not. But trust me, dinner will be much tastier this way around, and prepared with a lot less stress. Besides, you can still help, if that will ease your wounded ego?”

  “My ego was not ruined!” He was too busy inhaling her spicy scent and memorizing every curve of her body as it pressed against him to realize that he was just confirming what she’d said.

  “Right. Let’s get to work.”

  She pulled away from him, much to his disappointment, and started to rummage through the kitchen for whatever it was she felt she’d need. A few times she asked him if he had this or that, but upon receiving nothing but blank stares in return she would just smile and go about her business.

  How lucky was he to have found someone like her and to have it going so smoothly? Garath hadn’t talked to any of the other dragons yet, doing his best to ignore them and avoid them, but he’d heard stories of how tough a mating could actually be. He wondered if perhaps because Marie was human, that was making it easier? Was she more easily swayed by his looks than a female dragon would be?

  “How did you become so adept in the kitchen?”

  Chestnut hair twirled out like a long summer dress as Marie’s head snapped around. “Pardon me?”

  Shit. Obviously he’d said something wrong. “Are you not a cook? You’ve said so several times now? I was just asking about how you got that way?”

  Her expression tightened with worry, not anger. Garath hated the way that made the dimple in her chin disappear. Expressions like sadness, anger, and worry should never be present. The heart shape of her face was not conducive to those. Happiness, joy, and maybe if he was lucky, pleasure. Those were suitable to her.

  “Sorry.” Marie shook her head, ridding herself of the expression. “I...it’s just that I haven’t always been appreciated for my skill. There was a time not that long ago where it was expected of me to ‘be in the kitchen,’ because that’s where a proper woman was.” She looked away. “That’s how I learned to be good at it. Now though, now I do it for pleasure, and because I can get paid for it.”

  Garath’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the white marble countertop, the sturdy material groaning under his great strength. He released his grip just before it snapped, mighty lungs rising and falling as he sought to keep his anger in check. How could someone dismiss Marie so thoroughly like that? There was so much more to her than just her ability in the kitchen.

  She was intelligent and sharp-witted, stubborn and proud, and of course astoundingly beautiful, a face that he could devour with his eyes for hours on end, without even getting to the deliciously soft body she possessed as well. The forge at his center awoke, warmth pouring through him as his thoughts progressed.

  “I did not mean any insult. It is obvious though that you know what you’re doing, and I find your skills impressive.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault at all.”

&nbs
p; Wasn’t it? If he’d been awake earlier, he could have found Marie and saved her from whatever problems she’d been involved with. Her life could be much better if he hadn’t fled into his sleep like a coward, upset over his own mistakes.

  Now he didn’t even have a treasure to give her. It was gone, swindled away from him by a snake-eye dragon salesman who had taken advantage of a young and inexperienced Garath. It still stung his pride to admit what had happened. How was he going to explain to someone as wonderful and perfect as Marie that he, a dragon, didn’t have a treasure. She wouldn’t want to be with him, he was a failure of his race, and women like Marie wanted nothing to do with failures. After all, she was a success, as she’d drove home to him earlier.

  Marie worked calmly while he watched. At first Garath tried to follow along, so that he could learn how to cook for his mate. In just a few minutes however he was hopelessly lost as she moved far too quickly for him to follow long. Chopping products he didn’t even recognize, adding what he knew to be spices, putting this in that dish and other items in pans. It was just too much for him. Cooking, it seemed, was not going to be something he would ever wow Marie with.

  But at least he could feed himself now. He glared at the TV and microwave for a moment. “I’m just getting in your way,” he announced, retreating to the far side of the huge island that doubled as an eat-in counter as well if he didn’t feel like using the table.

  “That’s fine. You can be the official taste-tester. How about that?”

  Garath was pretty sure that was a joke. But he took it in stride, nodding his head vigorously with a big, goofy grin splashed across his face. “Done.”

  Based on the less-than-savory food he was used to from his previous life, anything she was to prepare would blow his mind. Still, it was a chance to compliment his mate on her skills, and he wanted her to feel appreciated. So Garath would taste everything and anything, and he was going to like it!

  The smells soon filled the kitchen, and it became apparent that he wasn’t likely to have to fake anything. His mouth was watering and his stomach let loose with a rumble that was audible even over the sizzle of some meat in a pan.