Dragon's Burn

by Brooke Warren

  “You going after the blonde?”

  “What blonde? Look around. You need to be more specific.” I know who he’s talking about but playing dumb is sometimes safer.

  “Right,” he drawls. “For the record, you’re welcome.”

  “For what?”

  “Taking care of Sarah for you.”

  “You mean Brittney?”

  “Yeah, sure, her. She’s fucking annoying, but I got past that once my dick was shoved down her throat and then between her thighs.”

  I snort, finishing off my beer. “I’m gonna grab another beer. Want one?”

  “Nah. My dick’s almost ready for round two. Time to find a new pussy or two.” He rubs his hands together while eyeing the potential prospects in the room, like he’s at an ice cream shop and was just told they’re giving out free samples. I clap him on the shoulder and give him a nod before making my way outside.

  Poppy

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I had every intention of looking for Deb, but once I saw Becca running her hand up Ryu’s chest, something inside me twisted again. It’s not jealousy. . . swear. But if he came here with Brittney, then why is another girl hanging all over him? I mean, he’s hot—I get it. Maybe he’s not with Brittney? And why do I care? I don’t really know anything about him, and if he wants to fool around with multiple people, then that’s on him.

  When I caught another whiff of his cologne, I almost melted into a puddle. But the lust-filled haze quickly dissipated. The egotistical crap that came out of his mouth hammered through the trap I was caught in.

  I pause at the top of the stairs and glance back down in time to see him and his friend disappear out of sight. I lean back against the wall and take a second to collect myself. Dashing up a flight of stairs was not my plan, but I needed to get away from him before I did something I’d regret—like kiss him. I close my eyes, but when I do, all I see is him; all I feel is him.

  Ryu encompasses all the wrong things mushed together in this perfect package. I wanted to wipe that Cheshire grin right off his face. But I also wanted to pull him close so he could run those perfect lips along my neck. When I looked into his eyes, I thought for sure he wanted to kiss me. I had to fight my body from leaning forward and pressing my lips against his. It felt like I was in a trance, but praise be to the rational and responsible side of my brain that screamed for me to stop.

  Ugh.

  Why does he make me so screwy?

  I make my way down the hall calling for Deb. Not that she could hear me with all the noise. I come to a door on the left and hesitate before opening it. Ryu was right, I know what goes on up here, but Deb isn’t like that. She’s shy, cautious and still a virgin. But I’m ready to leave this party and I’m Deb’s ride home. That’s my motivation for opening the unlocked door.

  There is a lamp on in the hallway near the door, and the little bit of light it’s putting out trickles into the room. My poor eyes take in some guy lying on the bed, pants around his ankles, while a girl is bobbing her head on his dick.

  The guy, who looks vaguely familiar, locks eyes with me and smiles. “Wanna join? My girl here likes to share.” The girl lifts her head and winks at me, then continues sucking on his unmemorable dick.

  “I’m good,” I say, and shut the door. “Jeez.” There are six doors on this floor, and two of them are bathrooms based on the few times I’ve seen people walk in and out. I keep calling Deb’s name. The next door I try is locked. I knock and say her name, but no one answers. Same thing with the third door.

  I get to the last door at the end of the hall. Hopefully, she’s in here; otherwise I’ll have to start all over on the third floor, and I have no idea how many rooms are up there. I say her name again and open the door. Much like the first room I peered into, I also wish I didn’t open this one. There are some things I prefer not to see, and my best friend sitting on the edge of the bed with Bobby’s head between her legs is one of them. I quickly close the door and pray to God that she didn’t see me. If there was ever a time to have a drink, this would be it. I think fresh air would also be good. Clear my head of that image.

  This night needs to end.

  How many more what the fuck moments can be crammed in before the clock strikes midnight?

  I make my way outside and maneuver over to the table of coolers but come to a startling halt when I see a red mohawk. Dammit. Ryu is at the keg with his back to me. I find myself admiring his broad shoulders and the way his jeans sit on his hips. . . Heat begins to stir inside me again, all thoughts about what I just saw in the house momentarily forgotten.

  Damn, he’s attractive.

  But irritating.

  Drool worthy.

  But annoying.

  So sexy.

  But Brittney and Becca.

  Yep, I’m standing here, less than ten feet away from him, having a back and forth discussion in my head.

  “Water will have to wait,” I mumble.

  Ryu picks that moment to turn around, and I don’t miss the sexy smirk that plays on his lips before he covers it up with his drink. Stupid me watches with fascination as the red cup tips against his mouth. I get lost in his intense gaze, filled with a promise of something exciting and dangerous. The exact thing I should be leery of. He’s a bad boy, a heartbreaker, a guy who doesn't even know the word commitment—not that I’m looking for that.

  Shaking myself out of his penetrating hold, I manage to stop myself from licking my lips, giving away just how much I was enjoying the view. I move closer to grab a bottle of water, since I was headed there to begin with. No point in ignoring the dryness in the back of my throat now that I’ve been spotted.

  I can feel his eyes on me, scanning every part of my body like it’s his to enjoy. I do my best to reject how much I like it, how my body is responding to it. My nipples have grown hard, and every move I make has my bra rubbing against them, sending tingles down to my core.

  “Find your friend?”

  His deep voice rolls through me again, toying with the desire sitting low in my belly. I don’t trust my mouth or brain now, so I dismiss his question by pulling big gulps from the bottle. This is why I need the water; the alcohol is messing with my inhibitions. I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand and reach for another bottle.

  “What? Shy now?”

  “I don’t feel your question deserves an answer.” I give him a once over. “Did you lose Brittney? You look different when she’s not hanging all over you. Oh wait, that was Becca, right?”

  Oh my god.

  Insert foot in mouth.

  I just said that, didn’t I? Why, oh why, can’t I keep my mouth shut? I’ve got to learn some restraint. Shooting from the hip like this is not only embarrassing, but it’s making it look like I’m some bitchy jealous girl.

  “And what makes you think I’d answer yours?” He takes another sip of his drink, sidetracking me again. I blink a few times, trying to give myself a minute to formulate a response.

  “Mine was rhetorical.” I finish my statement with a shrug, hoping it will complete the whole ‘don’t care’ attitude I’m trying to go for, even though my insides are bursting with humiliation; burying my head in the sand may be a perfect solution. What I can't see and hear can help me feign ignorance.

  He studies me. His curiosity has me second-guessing what I said. I replay our conversation, trying to see if something came out weird and so far, I’ve got nothing.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” The question comes out harsher than I wanted but whatever he wants to say, he may as well say it to my face.

  “Your bitchy attitude must be your norm.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, angling his head back, blowing the smoke into the air. I’ve never found smoking attractive, but even I’m not blind to how sexy he looks pulling another drag from it.

  “Excuse me?” I narrow my eyes while trying not to focus on the way his lips form a small O when blowing out the smoke. The way he said
it, so matter of fact, throws me. I don’t get the feeling he said it to be a dick, more like an observation.

  It makes me stop and realize how much of an ass I’m being to him for no clear reason. It’s not like he did anything wrong. I could blame it on the FaBs, specifically Brittney, but I know there’s more to it than that. And whatever it is, is not something I want to address.

  “I’m not being bitchy.” Jeez.

  He continues with his penetrating stare, even while taking another sip of his drink. I shift my feet at the awkward pause. “You look left slightly when you lie.”

  “Umm…”

  A big grin spreads across his face, and I swear all his teeth are showing. There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes. Should I be concerned with how observant he is? Normally, I’m the one who notices everything, but I’m off my game tonight. In fact, I’ve let this guy take over my thoughts, the exact opposite of what normally happens. Letting my guard down leaves me vulnerable. I’ve built thick skin for a reason, and that also comes from watching peoples’ behaviors and mannerisms.

  “Dragon, let’s bounce.” The guy with the beautiful, dark bronze skin comes over. The bored expression I saw earlier has been replaced with a gleam of excitement. “I've got company coming over.”

  He steps up beside Ryu, turning his attention to me. “Hello, butterfly.”

  His smile is addicting and makes him look much younger than he probably is. The warmth of his chestnut eyes matches the joyfulness on his face. It’s a cozy-home feeling that makes me want to curl up on the couch with him.

  “Hi.” I somehow manage to get the greeting out, a matching grin on my own face.

  “Let’s go, JD.” Ryu nudges his friend on the shoulder. I eye Ryu who’s pinning me with a look, like he’s pissed I’m talking to his friend. He walks away without saying another word.

  A tingle travels down my spine the further away he gets, and the moment he disappears around the corner of the house, it stops. Almost like we were tethered together and now the connection has been severed. I’m even more confused than before. Which is crazy because I’ve already told myself to stay away from him. But what other excuse do I have for what I just felt?

  “Nice to meet you, butterfly,” JD drawls, pulling my attention away from where Ryu faded into the darkness. He winks at me then follows the same path Ryu just vanished down.

  “You, too.” I watch him fade into the darkness. Checking the time on my phone, I see how late it is, and I’m beyond ready to leave. I send a quick text to Deb, letting her know I’m leaving but if she needs me to call. I’m not waiting around for her and Bobby to be done.

  I head to my car and feel a tiny pang of disappointment I didn’t catch one last look at Ryu before leaving. I mentally slap myself at how ridiculous I’m being over a guy who I just met.

  Deb’s words play back in my mind. It’s a great idea, but Ryu wouldn’t be fun. Ryu would be an all-encompassing emotional ride down into an addiction to him. I’ve worked too hard to get to this point; if I need to have fun, I’ll read a book, or hang out with Deb, or something else that isn’t the embodiment of every dirty fantasy I’ve ever had.

  Poppy

  The sound of a car horn blaring has my eyes flipping open and a rush of adrenaline shooting through me. I grumble my dislikes about the person lying on the horn and roll over to grab my phone. Noon. I slept half the day away.

  I stretch my arms over my head and point my toes, waking up all the muscles in my body. Flashbacks of last night hit me as if they were summoned. I try blocking them out. Last night can be filed away in a locked cabinet for all I care. Never to be thought of again. But my brain has other plans.

  And it’s not like I’m recalling the encounter with Ralph, or the point of no return—when I opened the door and found my friend in a compromising position. Nope. None of that is being recalled. Ryu is the only thing my traitorous brain wants to think about. Every. Single. Detail. From the way he moved in front of me to protect me from Ralph, to his smooth-arrogant-irritating yet sexy as hell self, to the way my body lit up every time he was near me.

  Just thinking about him jolts all my nerve endings, an all too familiar feeling as if he were right next to me. I don't want to think about him but know that I will, unless I get my butt up out of bed and find something to distract me.

  Yep, this is me getting up.

  Any moment now, my feet will hit the floor.

  Any moment.

  “Ugh. That’s enough. I’m done. No more Ryu.”

  I roll out of bed, with great effort, grab my comfy sweatpants and an oversized shirt from the dresser, then head downstairs to see what Granny is doing.

  “Granny?” I call, stepping into the living room.

  She’s sitting on the couch watching Judge Judy; looks like a rerun. She loves watching this show. I haven't figured out why, but I don't say anything. Whatever makes her happy, makes me happy.

  “Well, there’s my sleepyhead. Did you have fun last night?” She smiles and turns down the volume.

  I plop down on the couch beside her, pulling the throw blanket over me. “I did. It was a nice way to close that chapter of my life. I went to be entertained, and I succeeded.” Talking about last night has my mind wandering to Ryu again, wondering what he’s doing right now. Catching myself, I bat away my thoughts and remember what I told myself upstairs.

  Granny arches a brow, noticing what I did.

  “Fly,” I lie.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah. Hey, how about I get us subs for lunch? This way you don’t have to cook.”

  “Whatever you want, dear.” She pats my leg.

  “It’s been a while since we ate there, and it sounds yummy. I’m going to go get changed.”

  I bounce back up to my room and grab one of the new pairs of shoes I bought yesterday, cute nude sandals. After changing into an outfit to match my sandals, I toss my hair up into a messy bun, pulling a few strands around my face.

  “Are those new shoes?”

  “Yep, got them yesterday. You like?”

  “Very pretty.”

  “Thanks,” I beam. “All right, I’ll be back in a bit. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

  “No, hun. Drive safe.”

  I give Granny a quick kiss on the cheek and head out the front door to my car. Twenty minutes later and three circles around the block, I pull into a parking spot. This is one of the best sub places in town, just stinks it's located on the main drag of downtown. Parking is horrid, but knowing what I'm about to eat makes up for it.

  I’m just about to the door when my phone rings; I see Deb’s name flash on the screen.

  “Hey.”

  I walk further down the sidewalk to the corner of an intersection for a bit more privacy. The light turns green and I watch a group of cars drive off. The further away they get, the more I realize Deb is squealing into the phone.

  “Ohmygod! I have so much to tell you.”

  I smile at her excitement. But then I remember why she’s giddy, which causes my smile to falter. There is no way in hell I’m going to admit that I walked in on her. I’m going to take this to the grave.

  “That good, huh?” I tease.

  “You have no idea.” Oh, I’m pretty sure I do.

  “I’m in town right now, grabbing food. Wanna come over later?”

  My words are drowned out by loud rumbling echoes bouncing off the old and weathered brick buildings of downtown. I feel the concrete vibrate, tickling my toes. Coming up the road is a pack of about ten bikes.

  “Poppy?”

  I can barely hear Deb call my name. “Hang on. I can’t hear you.” I should move back toward the restaurant, but. . . I have to see the bikes.

  As the group gets closer, I can make out a middle-aged looking man leading the pack. As I stand there staring, uneasiness begins to slide down my spine, but I find my feet are frozen in place.

  The light at the intersection must’ve turned red because the whole gr
oup slows their pace before coming to a full stop. A few rev their engines, like they want to make sure everyone within a five-mile radius knows where they are.

  I let my eyes wander, starting with the man up front. He’s wearing a leather vest with the Legion’s Fallen patch on the back—a skull engulfed in flames—and no shirt underneath. The salt and pepper hair covering his chest thins out as it travels down over the small gut he is sporting. Tattoos run down his arms to his fingers, where several big silver rings are on display.

  He turns his head in my direction, the aviators he’s sporting make him look even more predatory than he already does. But he doesn’t give me nearly as sick a feeling as the next guy—the man with face tattoos. He’s staring at me, and with no sunglasses on, I don’t miss the way he blatantly runs his gaze up my body and then back down.

  He licks his lips and winks at me. This guy totally thinks he is God’s gift to women and has no problem telling them where he feels their place should be. Revving his engine a few more times, he barks out a laugh, which is most likely in response to my face wrinkling in disgust.

  “See something you like, kitten?”

  My heart booms from the trepidation, coupled with growing irritation. Yep, my first guess at what type of person he is was correct. A few laughs resound from the group. Taking in the rest of the people, I notice they’re all dressed similarly: jeans, the same vest and logo, but not everyone has the same type of bikes.

  There are a couple cruisers like Harleys, a couple choppers, and then one sport bike, catching my attention as it moves up beside tattoo face. It’s all black with bright green rims and an intricate dragon design—in the same color as the rims—starting at the front fairing, near the handlebars, and moving down to the lower fairing, by the engine.

  The artwork is unique and not something you see around in these parts. My eyes move to the man sitting on the bike. He has on a black, full-face helmet with the same dragon wrapped around the back and sides of it. The faceguard is down and tinted, but whoever is underneath is looking right at me.