Drakon's Past

by N. J. Walters

  He suddenly wanted to know everything about her.

  “So what do I do?”

  He reached into his back pocket and drew out his phone. “I call my contact and see if he’s found any trace of Dent.”

  She frowned and sat forward, resting her elbows on the table. “He can do that?”

  “According to him, he can do anything.” He hit the speed dial.

  “What the hell have you been doing?” Nic held the phone a few inches from his ear. Constance raised her eyebrow in question. Even she could hear Tarrant.

  “Hello to you, too. I’ve been busy.”

  “Doing what?” he demanded.

  “Healing Constance.” He’d come so close to losing her. “I’m putting you on speaker,” he cautioned. He pushed a button and set the phone on the table between them. “Any sign of Dent.”

  “Not yet. I’m monitoring the hotels, but he might have an apartment or house somewhere. Definitely using an assumed name. Without a phone or a vehicle to track, I’m running blind.”

  “What about my sister,” she demanded. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Use Nic’s phone. That’s protected.”

  He wanted to hit his brother. Then it occurred to him that he was being incredibly selfish. He didn’t want Constance to have contact with anyone but him, didn’t want her to love anyone but him.

  Wow, talk about a moment of clarity. One he could have done without, since it didn’t paint him in a very favorable light. He really was a bastard.

  “You’re sure it would be okay?” Constance asked. “I don’t want to put her or Mrs. Karsh in danger.”

  “Your sister is at your neighbor’s house?” There was disbelief in Tarrant’s voice.

  “I figured they might look at our place but would think it unlikely I’d stash her with the next-door neighbor.”

  “Gutsy.” Nic could tell Tarrant approved. “You should be fine to call her. Tell her to stay inside. And whatever she does, she is not to go next door, not until this is done.”

  Constance shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Will this ever be done?”

  “Yes.” It was a promise from the depths of Nic’s soul. Whatever it took, he’d make it safe for Constance and her sister to go home. “Keep me posted.”

  “I will,” Tarrant promised. “But be careful. The Knights are smart, and they’ll be looking for you.”

  “Later.” Nic ended the call and then pushed the phone toward her. “Call your sister.”

  …

  Constance didn’t have to be told twice. She grabbed the phone and dialed Mrs. Karsh’s number. It rang once, and her stomach began to churn. If something had happened to either of them, she’d never forgive herself.

  On the second ring, a familiar voice answered, and Constance released a huge sigh of relief. “Mrs. Karsh. It’s Constance.”

  “Where are you, girl?”

  She glanced at Nic. Since he hadn’t asked her to put the call on speaker, she assumed he could hear it all. “I can’t say, but I’m safe.”

  “What is going on? Abigail said something about an accident with the van, but I don’t believe that for one minute. The girl could never lie worth a damn, and you’d never have left her here all night without a word.”

  “It’s probably safer for you if you don’t know.”

  Mrs. Karsh snorted. “Girl, I’m almost seventy years old. I’m past the age of playing it safe. Besides, I’ve got the pearl-handled pocket pistol my husband gave me for a wedding present loaded and ready.”

  That made Constance smile. She could depend on Mabel Karsh to protect Abigail. She also owed the woman an explanation. “Let’s just say I bought something at an estate sale that some rather nasty people want.”

  “Why don’t you just give it to them?”

  “I would have, but they abducted Abigail.” She glanced at Nic. He was frowning, which made him look both handsome and forbidding. “Their plans changed. If they get what they want, I don’t think they’ll let either Abigail or I live.”

  Their neighbor made a small sound of distress. “What are you going to do?”

  This time, Constance stared Nic straight in the eye. “Whatever I have to in order to keep Abigail safe.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Well, that was more than clear enough to Nic. Abigail was her first concern. Possibly her only one. And that was how it should be. He knew he’d protect his brothers with his life.

  He listened with half an ear to the conversation between Constance and her neighbor. He knew the second her sister came on the line. The tone of her voice changed and softened.

  “Abigail. No, I’m okay. Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Constance swiped at the tear trailing down her cheek. Nic wanted to go to her, comfort her. He started to clear the table instead.

  “How are you?”

  Nic cocked his head to one side as he worked, listening in to the conversation. He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for doing so.

  “I’m okay. Tired, a little bruised.”

  “Your fingers?” Constance prompted.

  “Two broken ones, according to Mrs. Karsh. She wrapped them.” Abigail paused. “When are you coming home? What’s happening? Are those men still out there? Did you rescue…him.”

  Nic shoved the dishes into the dishwasher. He’d forgotten that Abigail had seen him in his dragon form.

  “Nic is safe. We’re both safe, for now.”

  “But those people are still out there, aren’t they?” There was fear as well as resignation in Abigail’s tone.

  “For now, but I’m working on that.” Constance rubbed one hand over the back of her neck.

  “But you’re safe? With him?”

  Again, Nic knew she was talking about him. She was right to be worried about her sister.

  “I am,” she promised. “I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

  Abigail gave a sound of distress. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are, baby. It will all be fine. I promise.”

  Nic noted that Constance didn’t tell her sister anything about her injuries or how close to death she’d actually gotten. She was still protecting her sister.

  He started loading the pans into the dishwasher. When he was done, he started the machine. Only the coffee mugs were still on the table. He figured they’d be drinking a lot more of it before the day was over.

  “Remember, some of those men are still out there,” Constance warned her sister. “It’s important you stay with Mrs. Karsh and don’t go outside. Stay away from the windows, too. I’ll take care of the situation.”

  There were no longer any tears in Constance’s eyes. Now she radiated a sense of purpose. Nic knew she’d keep her word. When she glanced at him, he pointed at his watch. Safe or not, it wasn’t smart to stay on the phone for long.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go. Stay safe. Love you.” She ended the call and set the phone on the table. “What are we going to do?”

  He knew what he was going to do. It was totally inappropriate, all things considered, but that hadn’t stopped him so far. He strode over to her, pulled her out of her chair, and kissed her.

  It wasn’t a gentle kiss, one of understanding and caring. It was one of passion, of ownership. He wanted to put his stamp on her. Wanted her to know that she belonged to him, with him, in the same way he belonged to her.

  She tasted like coffee, sweet and richly flavored. She was passive for all of ten seconds, and only because he’d taken her off guard by his actions. Then she kissed him back, giving him all the passion that dwelled inside of her.

  Her tongue stroked his, and his cock surged against his jeans. He wanted to be naked. Needed to be inside her.

  He lifted her off of her feet and turned, pressing her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She didn’t try to push him away. Not his Constance. She met his tongue stroke for stroke, speared her fingers through his hair, and yanked him closer. She was more than his match. She was his mate.
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  He growled and rocked his hips against her, rubbing his erection against her mound. She sucked in a breath and made a sound in the back of her throat that made his balls clench.

  He kept their lower halves pressed together and pulled back. Her hair was mussed, her lips moist and swollen. She looked delicious. His hunger for food had been momentarily sated. Now other appetites were rearing their head.

  “Why?”

  He frowned at her question. “Why what?” He started unbuttoning the shirt she wore. It was large on her, so he only had to undo a couple of them before he had access to her breasts. They were full and firm, and he covered them with his palms.

  She gasped and tilted her head back. “This? Why now?”

  He stared her straight in the eyes. “Because I have to.”

  …

  Constance didn’t understand what had come over Nic. One second she’d been on the phone talking to her sister while he cleared away the breakfast dishes. The next, he was kissing her senseless. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up with her back against the wall and her legs and arms wrapped around him.

  Nic muddled her senses in the best way possible.

  But they had more important things that needed doing. This was no time for making love, no matter how much she craved the connection. They needed to strategize. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  He rotated his palms and then rubbed his thumbs over the tip of her breasts. Heat, familiar and sweet, melted through her. “Maybe we should,” he countered.

  “Nic.” She’d meant to sound stern. Instead, there was encouragement in her tone.

  “Mmm. I can make it quick.”

  They’d just had sex a short while ago. Of course, Nic wasn’t a normal man. Maybe he had a higher sex drive.

  What was her excuse?

  She tried to be rational, but then he slid his hand down her stomach and undid the button of her jeans. If she was going to stop him, she had to do it soon.

  Did she want to stop him?

  Not really, but it was probably the smart thing to do.

  “The Knights. My sister. The statues.” She threw the words out there as he leaned in and nibbled on her neck.

  “I don’t want to make love with them.”

  His response surprised a laugh from her. He raised his head and smiled at her. A real smile that made her core damp and her skin tingle. It also made her heart swell with unspoken emotion. He was a handsome devil. “What am I going to do with you?”

  His expression turned incredibly somber. She missed his open smile. “Love me,” he told her.

  Her stomach churned and breathing became more difficult. She was afraid she already did love him, but it was much too soon to know for sure. Wasn’t it? There was such need, such longing in his eyes that she did the only thing she could. She dragged his head closer and kissed him.

  She sensed his disappointment, but it quickly disappeared beneath the onslaught of passion that simmered just below the surface whenever they were together. She didn’t understand the connection that seemed to exist between them, but there was certainly no denying it.

  He locked his hands beneath her and pulled her away from the wall. The room whirled around her, and then she was staring at the ceiling, her back flat on the kitchen table. Glass shattered on the tile floor when one of the mugs went flying.

  This was crazy. This was Nic.

  He was passionate and caring and so courageous.

  When their lips parted, she stared up at his beloved face. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His stark words pierced her heart. She hadn’t known just how much she’d needed his forgiveness. But he still wanted her. That made her uneasy. He wanted her, but if he could never trust her, what kind of a relationship could they have?

  And maybe she was being presumptuous. Her heart was deeply involved, but maybe his wasn’t. Maybe this was all about sex.

  Well, she was a big girl. She could handle it. She wanted Nic with a fever that was almost overwhelming. If he was only going to be in her life for a short time, she wanted to make the most of it. Once they found Dent and his man and handled the situation, she expected Nic to walk away.

  She might never see him again.

  A sense of loss, of desperation welled up inside her even though he was here with her right now. The thought of losing him made her chest hurt, the pain both emotional and physical.

  “Where are you?” He cupped her head and lightly shook it from side to side, forcing her to focus on him.

  “I’m here.” And she was. They could have this moment before they went to work solving the problems that still existed. This stolen time was just for them. Until Nic’s friend called back, they didn’t have a starting point.

  She ran her hands over his T-shirt. “You’re wearing way too much clothing.”

  His nostrils flared and he ripped the garment over his head and flung it aside. God, he was gorgeous. He was big and broad, all bone and sinew and muscle. His olive skin was warm beneath her fingers.

  He slipped a hand behind her head and lifted her to meet him. Their mouths melded together with a passion that made her want to cry. This at least was honest between them. Neither of them held back when they touched.

  Things got frantic very quickly.

  Nic lowered her back to the table and kissed a path down her neck and across her collarbone. He gave a sexy growl when he reached her breasts. His tattoo seemed to glow and shimmer in the sunlight streaming in through the window.

  He looked like a god.

  He stroked his tongue over the tip of her nipple. She cried out, unable and unwilling to hold anything back.

  “You like that?” He didn’t wait for an answer and did it again. She grabbed the ends of his silky hair and tried to keep him there. He laughed and nuzzled the small valley between her breasts.

  She sucked in a breath when he started down her stomach, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made her skin sizzle with growing need. When he reached the top of her jeans, she held her breath.

  He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand. He probably knew many languages, many of them no longer in use. The man was a walking, talking encyclopedia. He knew more about the past than any so-called world expert. Because they’d only studied it. He’d lived it.

  He truly was thousands of years old.

  The zipper made a metallic hiss when he lowered it. Since she wasn’t wearing any underwear, he could see her sex. He slipped his hands inside and pulled, yanking the material down her legs. It tangled around her ankles.

  He gave a huff of frustration and wrestled with her sneaker. When it fell to the floor, he pulled her jeans down. He didn’t bother with the other side. He opened his own jeans, exposing his erection. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around him.

  He caught her wrist and pulled her away. “No time.”

  His eyes were practically glowing, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. His shaft was heavy, the blue veins pulsing with barely suppressed need.

  She opened her arms to him. “Come here.”

  He spread her legs wide and guided the thick head of his shaft home. She gasped when he pressed inward, but her body was becoming accustomed to his possession, and her muscles relaxed so she could take him. When he was finally balls deep, they both released a sigh of relief. He completed her in some mystical way. She’d only thought she was whole until she’d met him and learned the difference.

  The heavy pulse of his shaft, the way he stretched her and filled her channel, had her panting. Without even moving, he had her close to orgasm. “Nicodemus.” She knew he liked it when she said his name. His cock flexed inside her. She deliberately squeezed her inner muscles, drawing a deep groan of pleasure from him.

  Nic planted his hands on the table and leaned over her. “Hold on.” She reached up and grabbed hold of his biceps just as he began to thrust. He surged in and out, getting faster and faster with each one.

  Heat sp
read from her core out to the rest of her body. Nic made love with an intensity that made her feel as though she was special, the only woman in the world who could fulfill him.

  She knew it wasn’t true, but she still savored the moment.

  He ground his pelvis against hers, circling it in a way that stimulated her clit. He kept doing it with every thrust until she was gasping for air and making inarticulate sounds because she couldn’t form actual words.

  She dug her nails into his skin. She slid along the top of the smooth wooden table, but Nic kept her anchored to him. The tension built until she was ready to scream in frustration.

  Then he drove deep and hit a sweet spot. His pelvis rubbed against her clit. Heat exploded from her core like a blast, rippling out to the rest of her body. She cried out, her channel rippling up and down his hard length.

  …

  Nic lost all sense of sight and sound when Constance came. Her sex gripped him hard, and there was no holding back. His orgasm was ripped from his balls and shot up through his shaft. He kept pumping his hips. His release went on and on. He locked his elbows to keep from collapsing on top of her.

  When he was done, his lungs were working like a bellows, and he was sweating. He should have been relaxed after coming so hard. Instead, he wanted to do it again and again and again. He would never get enough of Constance, no matter how long he lived.

  He raised his head and looked down. Her skin glowed, her lips were damp, and her nipples hard. As if sensing his scrutiny, she opened her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He had yet to make love to her properly, spending hours touching and stroking her, bringing her to orgasm again and again before he finally took her. Around Constance, he had little control.

  She licked her lips, and his cock flexed. She gave a little jerk and gasped. “I’m good.”

  Things between them always seemed to get awkward the moment they were done making love. Another good reason to never stop. He craved the connection, the intimacy.

  But he knew the table couldn’t be all that comfortable, and he was worried about making her sore. He slowly withdrew, gritting his jaw against the overwhelming pleasure when her sex tightened around him.