by Lolita Lopez
Dead Sexy Dragon
Lolita Lopez
New York Boston
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
Newsletters
A Preview of Red Hot Dragon
Copyright Page
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Chapter One
Stig Wyvern dried the last of his dishes and placed them in the cabinet. His gaze moved to the bay window across the kitchen. The setting sun splashed the sky with brilliant streaks of orange and fiery pink. His stomach tightened at the sight. With the darkness came the forced change, and tonight it would be beyond his control. This night and those of the following eight days he would spend at the complete mercy of his inner beast.
Already his skin tingled, his nerves set alight with a prickling heat. Even though he’d just ingested a pile of rare steaks for dinner, his stomach growled with emptiness. There wasn’t enough water to slake his thirst. And his libido raged. He wanted nothing more than to find a willing woman to sink into again and again.
But he couldn’t do that. He mustn’t do that. When in heat, Stig’s scent changed, grew more potent, and made it easier for the Knights to find him. So he would retreat to the cavernous lair beneath his home and lock himself in irons for the duration of the night.
He did a final check of the kitchen and headed upstairs to make sure the house was sealed tight. He’d barely reached the top of the stairs when he heard the frantic knock at his front door. It momentarily stunned him. No one ever knocked on his door. His closest neighbor was five miles away—and he liked it that way.
He wanted to ignore the pounding, pretend he’d never heard it and go about his business, but he just couldn’t. If someone was there, it had to be serious. Maybe a car wreck on one of the nearby roads or an accident in the woods surrounding his home. Local teenagers had a habit of staging wild parties out there. Underage kids and drinking was a nasty mix.
As he hurried downstairs, Stig couldn’t help but wonder if the person on the other side was safer braving the elements of the night than facing him so close to the sunset. When in heat, his inner beast was difficult to control. The primal drive and desires that would soon overtake him put all humans at risk. He unlatched and unlocked the various dead bolts on the door and quickly drew it open.
Stig’s gruff greeting died on his lips the second he spied the petite black-haired beauty standing on his doorstep. Her scent, sweet and spicy, wafted up to meet him. His body zinged with recognition. “Cora?”
“Hey, Stig.” Cora Cardenas greeted him with a sad smile. Her puffy and red-rimmed eyes betrayed her. She’d been crying. An uneasy feeling twisted Stig’s gut at the sight of the luggage surrounding her. He stuck his head out the door and saw her compact car caked in grime from the long drive. There were more boxes and suitcases visible through the windows.
Shit. Of all the times for his dead friend’s sister to show up on his doorstep, it had to be tonight, the one night when he feared he wouldn’t be able to withstand his already-brewing attraction to her.
“Cora, look, this isn’t a good time for me. I—”
“You promised!” she interrupted with a sob. “When Hector died, you promised I could come to you.”
Guilt gripped him. “I know and I meant it. It’s just that things are complicated right now.” He nervously eyed the skyline. “There’s a hotel in town. It’s a forty-minute drive. You shouldn’t have a problem getting a room.”
“Stig,” she said pleadingly.
Cora’s begging tore at his heart. Stig fought the urge to gather her in his arms and offer the security of his home—and his bed. Only the knowledge that she was forbidden and that his secret world could put her in grave danger stopped him from grabbing and dragging her across his threshold.
“Cora, you need to go.” His muscles twitched and jaws ached. The change was coming soon. Too soon for his liking. “Cora, please—”
“The key!” she practically screamed at him as she dug in the front pocket of her jeans. “I still have the key!”
Stig’s gaze moved to her now-upturned palm. The key he’d given her a little more than a year ago rested there. He was haunted by his words. As long as you have the key to my home, you’ll always have a place to stay.
“Please.” Tears dripped down her cheeks. Fear radiated from her shaking frame. She was scared. Of what, he didn’t know but it worried him.
Stig swallowed hard and stepped aside. “All right.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. As she brushed past him, her suitcase wheels bumping over the threshold, Stig caught a whiff of her scent again. It curled around him, the sweet-scented tendrils squeezing his chest and filling him with need. His cock stiffened and pressed painfully against his zipper. The urge to stroke her olive skin was overwhelming but he somehow managed to master it.
Stig had to get away from her. His questions could wait until the morning and the safety of the sun.
“I’m sorry I was so short with you just now. I have a horrible headache. I…I need to lie down.” Stig gestured around him. “The guest bedroom is the first room on the left at the top of the stairs. The bathroom is the room on the right. Make yourself at home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Oh.” Cora was clearly confused by his abruptness. “All right.”
Stig nodded and headed out of the living room. He paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “Cora?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a door in the kitchen. It leads down to the cellar. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave it alone. I’m having an issue with infestation.”
Cora’s eyes widened. “Infestation?”
He shrugged. “The house is so close to the woods. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” He held her gaze. “You’ll keep out?”
Cora nodded dutifully. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” A painful quiver of blazing heat pierced his abdomen. He needed to get downstairs—fast.
“I’ll go ahead and get the rest of my things.” She started toward the front door. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be fine tonight. We can talk in the morning.”
Stig sensed the shift in her emotions. She’d arrived distraught and afraid and now seemed calmed. That the simple act of stepping into his home gave her such a sense of security tugged at his heart. Suddenly, he remembered why he’d made that offer to her at Hector’s funeral. Even then he’d been drawn to her, had wanted to gather her close to his chest and caress her silky black hair.
But those feelings were wrong then and were still wrong now. There was an unspoken code among friends. As Hector’s baby sister, Cora was off-limits.
“Good night, Cora.”
“Night, Stig.”
He didn’t linger but took advantage of her short trip outside to rush into the kitchen. He made sure to lock the basement door behind him before running down the stairs. His bones ached and muscles burned as his inner beast struggled for freedom.
Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His night vision allowed him to move swiftly and safely down the corridor. With each descending footstep, the temperature dropped and the musty dankness grew stronger. The stairs ended on a wet slab of stone blocked by a heavy steel door. He punched in the code and yanked open the door that led into a stunningly beautiful cavern.
Decades earlier, he’d discovered the secluded cave during a solo spelunking trip. Building a house over what he intended as his subterranean lair only made sense. The layers of rock and dirt filtered his enhanced scent, cloaking him from those who would do him harm. It provided a secure place for him to hide out during these episodes of uncontrollable animalistic lust and blood thirst that plagued him every three years. Until he found a mate, a proper non-human mate, Stig wouldn’t be able to shake his mating heat.
He ducked beneath a tricky little stalactite he hadn’t had the heart to rip down while outfitting the cavern for his needs. There was no time to dally tonight. Stig quickly undressed. He walked over to the far wall and grabbed the titanium chains. They rattled in his trembling hands as he secured them around his ankles and wrists. The time-activated lock beeped and began the countdown to sunrise and safety.
Secure in his bonds, Stig relaxed his shoulders and welcomed the change. Scaly green patches transformed his tanned skin. The bones of his face elongated into a kind of snout. His short nails lengthened and sharpened into acid-green talons. Stig groaned in pain as his back snapped and realigned itself into a curved shape. With a rending of skin and a scream from his throat, pterodactyl-like wings sprouted from his back, the black reptilian membrane wet and stretched thin between the joints.
And just like that, his inner dragon was free. The primal urges of his beast suppressed Stig’s humanity. For now, he could only think with the primitive parts of his brain. Hunt. Food. Sex. Sleep. Those were his strongest desires.
He jerked at his bonds, desperate for freedom and yearning for a taste of the young woman whose tantalizing smell still teased him despite the depths he’d descended. His mouth watered and his erection twitched at the vision of parting her thighs and lapping at her honeyed sex. He could just imagine the sensation of tight, wet heat that would envelope his cock if he thrust deep inside her.
Burning up with lust, Stig shuddered and pressed back against the cool stone. He didn’t dare look at the blinking hours and seconds on the locks. Thankful for the strength of his chains, he closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to subjugate his dragon’s needs.
This was going to be one very long night indeed.
* * *
Cora dragged the last of her suitcases into the guest bedroom. It was small and sparsely furnished. She’d expected nothing less from Stig. He wasn’t the warm and cozy type. Actually, Cora was pleasantly surprised not to find a military-style rack complete with itchy wool blanket and paper-thin sheets. The full-sized bed offered a comfy pillow-top mattress and nice fluffy white comforter. Pale blue walls added a soothing effect she desperately needed.
Her tummy clenched at the thought of having to tell Stig about the mess she’d created. Heat flooded her cheeks. She could imagine the disapproving expression he’d wear. She’d often seen a similar look on Hector’s face. Neither man had been programmed to take risks or take the plunge into the unknown in pursuit of a dream. Cora, on the other hand, thrived on uncertainty. She liked taking chances. Sometimes they turned out fine and sometimes…well…they didn’t.
Hunger pangs twisted her belly. When had she last eaten? Oh right. That gross drive-through burger joint about five hours ago.
Cora left her room and carefully tiptoed past the door she assumed led to Stig’s room. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb him. For a second there, she’d thought he was really going to refuse her entrance to his house. Her gut told her there was something more than a headache causing his weird behavior.
Her first instinct? That he had a lover in the house. The very thought of another woman, naked and sated in Stig’s bed, had soured her stomach. From the first time she’d spied Stig Wyvern six years earlier, she’d been smitten with her older brother’s friend. A college freshman, she’d been smart enough to realize a war-hardened marine like Stig wouldn’t be interested in her. It hadn’t been easy to ignore her raging crush but she’d done it. The last thing she’d wanted to do was embarrass herself or him or Hector. Even though she’d managed to suppress her strong feelings toward Stig, there was no denying the spark of jealousy that had burned her at the thought of him with another woman in his secluded cabin. Realizing her first instinct was wrong had been quite a relief.
So what the hell was his problem? Clearly he wasn’t comfortable with her in the house. Hopefully it really was a headache and not something else. If Stig put her out, she’d be on the streets by the end of the week. The cash in her wallet was running low and there was no one else she trusted to keep her safe.
Down in the kitchen, Cora took a few moments to investigate the cabinets and fridge contents. The pantry shelves were well stocked and her mind raced with possibilities for the morning. Her grandmother had always preached the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If there was one thing Stig had always loved, it was Cora’s baking and cooking skills. Considering she desperately needed his help, she’d bake, sauté, fricassee, braise, and roast every recipe in her mental cookbook.
But for tonight a sandwich would suffice. Cora made quick work of assembling her dinner, grabbed a chilled can of fizzy soda from the fridge, and sat at the sturdy wooden table. Her fingertips brushed over the smooth grained tabletop. She marveled at the exquisite craftsmanship.
Stig’s skill as a woodworker was well known. When he’d retired from the Marine Corps, he’d turned his hobby into a thriving business. Cora had seen the adjacent workshop as she’d pulled into the gravel driveway. From what she understood, almost all of his business came from online orders. It seemed client interaction was low on his list of priorities.
Apparently Stig was quite content with his loner status. That was something she’d never understood about him. He’d enjoyed spending a day or two with them in San Antonio whenever Hector invited him down but he always seemed so restless and uneasy, as if he couldn’t wait to escape. He thrived on the solitude of his woodsy fortress. The city seemed to sap him of his vitality.
Cora mused on his oddness as she cleaned up her dishes and swept away the crumbs on the counter and table. There was something about Stig that wasn’t quite right. She used to think it was the effect of all those tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe some post-traumatic stress disorder, but the more she was around him, the less she thought that was the answer.
Clearly he had some lingering issues from his time at war. Hector had been the same way. The nightmares of those days in the violence-fueled desert had driven her brother toward the alcohol and drugs that had eventually led to his demise. Stig, on the other hand, seemed able to master the horrors of war in a way Hector simply never could.
Cora often thought she glimpsed the tiniest bit of guilt reflected in Stig’s eyes whenever they spoke of her brother. No matter how many times she assured Stig he hadn’t failed Hector, she could tell he didn’t believe it. Stig had taken Hector’s car accident incredibly hard. As far as Cora could tell, Hector had been Stig’s only real friend, so the loss must have been as unbearable for him as it had been for her.
But they had each other to lean on for support.
There had been a time in those initial weeks following Hector’s death when Cora had thought maybe, just maybe, Stig felt more for her than friendship, that they weren’t only united in grief but in other, more intimate ways. She’d quickly realized her hopes in that area would never come to fruition. Perhaps it was the age difference or the sibling connection but Stig never gave her any indication that he was interested in anything beyond friendship.
And it killed her.
There was no denying her intense attraction to him. Who wouldn’t have the hots for such a deliciously sexy former marine? With that square jaw and that heart-melting grin, Stig set her on fire every time he was near. The thought of being embraced by those thick, muscular arms or having those broad shoulders rippling as he thrust into her welcoming body was almost too much. Her knees weakened at the mere thought of Stig kissing her neck or nibbling her lower lip.
>
As much as it embarrassed her, Cora still nurtured a secret hope Stig would one day see her not just as his best friend’s sister but as the sexually confident young woman she’d become. Maybe this would be the visit that changed things between them? She’d never been around Stig on his home turf. Whether or not that improved her odds of success, she couldn’t say, but it was worth a try.
Cora flicked off the light and started to leave the kitchen. The strangest noise, a mix between a growl and a moan, stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned back to the kitchen and fixed her gaze on the basement door. The sound had most definitely come from beneath the house.
What kind of animal made a noise like that? Not a raccoon or skunk, owl or bat. Were there coyotes and wolves in the woods? Yes, probably, but how would they get into the basement? Maybe there was outside access to the cellar? A door or vent of some kind?
Her chest constricted with nervousness. She slowly crossed the kitchen and pressed her ear to the door. There was nothing to be heard but her shaky breaths. Whatever she’d heard was quiet now.
A moment later another lonesome howl penetrated the door. Cora’s breath caught in her throat. The fine hairs along her nape stood on edge. So close to the basement entrance, she heard the sound more clearly, a mix of an elephant’s trumpet and a lion’s roar. No, that definitely didn’t belong to any animal she’d ever heard of. What the hell was that?
Cora backed away and left the kitchen in a hurry. Despite the growing distance from the possible threat, she couldn’t shake the eerie sensation. When Stig woke in the morning, she’d ask him to go down there and check it out. Maybe whatever had gotten in there was hurt and needed help.
Or maybe it wanted to break free and eat her face.
Shuddering at that frightening thought, Cora rushed into her room, located her toiletry bag, and skittered across the hall into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Back in her room, she locked the door, slipped into her pajamas, switched off the lights, and slid under the covers.
