“No.”
“No? You want to order in?”
“We aren’t staying here. You can take your shower and you can pack a bag. But tonight we’re sleeping where I can close my eyes. Those dudes only have to pull off their masks and they can waltz right back into this building without triggering a single alarm bell.”
She drooped. “You think they’ll come back?”
“I do. Someone wants you dead or they want something you’ve got. And like Jake said they seem to have a lot of hoods to send after you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Hoods?”
“Psychopaths with talent and no criminal record do not grow on trees. So far we’re up to five. I know a lot of career criminals are psychopaths, but five out of five is no coincidence.”
“Austin Sheppard had a record.”
“He’s the only one we have any info on. Want to bet the other flats are just novices?”
“You think they’re all flats?” she asked curiously.
“I know it. Their auras are flat-lined in every sector that mediates conscience and morality.” And they were all extremely strong. “As to their actual psi-talents, who knows? I don’t want to find out tonight.”
Those blue eyes narrowed. She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. “You can see auras?”
His heart sank. He’d been a shade reckless. He should have worked up to this revelation. After all, aura reading was considered pretty low-rent as talents went. He waited for disdain to set in. Or fear.
He tried to backpedal. “Not exactly. I can sense them. My talent allows me to direct frost at an opponent’s aura. I need to be able to sense where they’re vulnerable. A psychopath has an incomplete spectrum with places that feel glassy, but instead of those area being weak, they are actually harder and more difficult to ice.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “For me, it’s a weird sort of off-smell that signals someone with a lot of unfocused ill will. A stomach-churning scent.”
“Can all rabbits smell auras?”
“Don’t know. Molly taught me to recognize sharps and flats.”
“Your partner?”
“Yes. Molly is a glass worker, but she also sees auras. She divides the freaks into those who are seriously violent and those who are pathological liars. Sharps and flats respectively. Sharps exude a pulsing smell. It’s nauseating as well as scary. And it comes at you in waves. Molly says their auras look spiky to her.”
“Interesting. You know this aura-reading thing is considered seriously woo-woo by dragons? And by other shifters?”
She smiled. “Your deep dark secret?”
“Exactly.”
She threw off her funk and sparkled. “So I have you in my power, Drake?”
He laughed. “Fortunately we’re going to be married.”
“That’s just pretend.” She fiddled with his ring but she didn’t try to remove it. He’d cross that bridge when he had to.
“Better not be. Either we marry or I’ll have to eat rabbit pie.”
Her blush ignited his heart. Okay, maybe more than his heart and a good deal lower. Her lips were soft beneath his. Soft and eager. Her hands tore his shirt open and her nails sank deep into his pecs.
When her purse chirped, his hands were kneading the soft firm globes of her bosom. Her nipples were ripe berries against his palms tempting him to taste. She pushed at his chest and he let her slide down his body, easing her over his cock.
“Sorry.” She fished out her phone. “That must be Molly, at last.” Her face fell. “I’ve got a text from SPAR.” She held it out to him. Go to ground.
“I’m glad to see they’re keeping an eye on you,” he said. “And that’s some good advice.”
“Not exactly, I sent them the video I took.”
He saw red. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that.” He loomed over her. He was good at looming. Strong men trembled when he loomed.
She looked underwhelmed. Her chin went up. “Good thing I made a record, right?”
“Wrong. When I tell you to stay put, you stay put. Understood?”
“No, I don’t understand.” Her lower lip quivered before she bit it.
“Your task is to keep your head down. Not to go rushing off to put yourself in danger.”
“I couldn’t just sit in the car. It was my fault that Miranda Villas was in danger in the first place. And with my video, at least the cops have a chance of arresting the guys who got away and putting the one you caught in jail.”
“It is not your fault. Not in any way. And what good do you think that video would have done anyway if you were in the morgue with a bullet in your heart?” His voice echoed off the walls. Great, now he was shouting at the bunny.
Her hands were on her hips and she was nose to nose with him. Well, nose to chest. She was still just a little bit. “So it’s all right for you to put yourself in danger, but I’m supposed to cower in fear?”
“That’s it. Exactly. The thing is, Blythe my dear, those two carjackers should have gone down like ninepins. And that scumbag in the SUV. But it was as if their auras were protected by a force field.”
“Crap.”
“My sentiments exactly.” He opened his hand. A marble-sized yellow crystal winked at her. “But it looks like I got one of their lucky charms.”
Her eyes were saucers. “Not really your color.”
CHAPTER 18
Blythe~
She came out of the dream on a rush of terror. It took a few seconds to realize the figure looming by the open connecting door was not an eight-foot humanoid with spider appendages and glowing crimson eyeballs. “What is it?” she croaked.
“You called out.” Neil’s voice was also gravelly. He glided through the connecting door and stood by her bed. “You okay?” He was naked to the waist, his pants zipped but the waistband unfastened, his feet bare.
“Bad dream. A real spider-man confronted me. Multiple guns and sticky fingers on my flesh.” She shuddered as the last tentacles of the unpleasant dream faded. “Just a stupid dream.”
The edges of the dingy drapes no longer met. There was plenty of light filtering in through to see the shabby furniture. It looked better in the dimness. She slipped out of bed leaving the light off. Her sturdy red flannel nightgown had been purchased for its practicality on cool Mystic Bay nights. It fell to mid-calf and was probably more concealing than a robe would be.
She made for the tiny bathroom. At least she had her own. Their rooms were shabby but the sheets had been changed after the last customers. And it had connecting doors and towels and soap. All the amenities. They had wound up in a no-name no-tel, one level above a flophouse, in a rundown neighborhood, because Neil had insisted on paying cash.
Brand name hotels insisted on identification, credit cards, and car registration. Neil had decided that they weren’t going to leave any kind of trail. Electronic or paper. He was sure that SPAR either had a leak or was using her as bait again. She couldn’t hide for long, but for tonight it was good to feel safe.
While she was running water into the cracked sink, Neil stalked over to the grimy window. She brought him a glass of water. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she said.
“I was awake. Had a nightmare of my own.” He peered into the fogbound night. “You see that red light?” He pointed upward where a tiny red light lit up the fog at intervals.
“Sure. It’s a flight-path beacon. Don’t know which building it’s on.” They were a dime a dozen in Seattle, where swarms of office towers and condos had replaced older buildings like the one they were staying in. “Why?”
He sipped. Sighed. “Not a sniper scope?”
“Nope.” She placed a hand on his arm. His skin was hot and slightly damp. She snatched it back hastily. “You were dreaming,” she said gently. “Although I suppose dreaming about snipers shooting at you is natural for a soldier.”
“Dreaming.” In his mouth the word was a profanity. He gazed down at her. His hair was mussed and the attractive hint of a dark b
eard showed on his jaw. His lips quirked. “Got news for you, Buttercup, it was you the sniper had in his sights.” He gulped the rest of the water.
She disliked being called Buttercup, but she let it go. Again. “Oh. I thought maybe you had that PTSD thing.”
“Here’s a news flash, if you’ve gone to war, you’ve got PTSD. Doesn’t matter if you call it battle fatigue, or shell shock, or the two-thousand-yard stare, or dress it up in psychobabble.” His voice was back to normal, level and uninflected. “War always leaves a scar, it’s only a matter of severity.”
“I thought you were in Special Forces.”
“Recon,” he corrected. He meant the Marine Corps’ elite Reconnaissance Unit. “Special refers to our training and the nature of our missions, it does not refer to psychological super powers.”
“All I meant was that it takes a certain amount of mental toughness to qualify,” she pointed out.
“I’ll give you that,” he said. “But in the end, only flats are unscathed by watching their buddies die.”
“Flats make good soldiers?” she asked, genuinely astonished.
“Not in the least. Soldiering requires team players. Flats are always looking out for number one. First, second, and last. I meant that only a psychopath can kill or watch killing and be unmoved.” A muscle bulged in his jaw.
She replaced her hand on his arm. Ignored the electric tingle. “Want to talk about it?”
That hard gaze seemed to evaluate her for a good long while. It was difficult to keep her eyes steady on his, but she wasn’t going to be the first to blink. Finally he asked, “You want the short or the long version?”
“Maybe the short version, seeing as we should try to get some more sleep.”
His eyes were as bleak and wintry as his words. “One of my men took the bullet meant for me.”
For a moment she had nothing to say. She found her tongue. “That had to be rough. I’m sorry for your loss.”
He shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. Even in the twilight of the unlit room, his skin was as smooth and creamy as marble, every muscle defined.
She tried again. “You’d have done the same for him, if your positions had been reversed.”
“Well, sure.”
Her arms went around his waist. Dragon or not, the man needed a hug. This time when every hair on her body stood up and saluted, she didn’t try to tell herself that it was some predatory trick. Nope. There was no doubt about it, her normally placid inner bunny had turned into a wild rabbit and was kicking up her heels in a giddy tango. For a dragon no less.
Maybe dating normals had stifled her hormones, but even in college she hadn’t had much more success dating shifters. She had used her nose to locate other herbivores. There weren’t a lot of other rabbits around, but casual cross-species dating was as exciting to the herbs she met as it was to her. Not that she ever took a ram home or anything. And none of her boyfriends ever asked her to meet his parents.
Lately she had been having a dry spell. Ever since Chester. He hadn’t been a jerk or anything. She liked to think she was above dating pricks. But when push came to shove, she had been unable to sleep with a guy who didn’t know anything about the paranormal. She could easily have proven she was a rabbit. But she couldn’t predict his response. That had seemed a good enough reason to let their relationship wither. Not that that meant a dragon was the right man for this cottontail.
“Consoling the troops?” Neil asked, but his arms went around her shoulders. Fingers sent shivers up and down her spine. He kissed the top of her head and left his cheek there.
Could an embrace be utterly comforting and totally thrilling at one and the same time? “Just one.”
His pulled her tight against his formidable erection. Her pussy throbbed. “Because I gotta tell you, Buttercup, sex is a great stress reliever. Cures insomnia and nightmares. Probably good for ingrown toenails too.”
She stifled her giggle. “Tacky, Drake. Really tacky. You suffer from ingrown toenails?”
“You have no idea.” And then he kissed her and her whole body lit up.
CHAPTER 19
Blythe~
Neil’s mouth was hot and demanding. His hands dropped to her bottom to sweep her upward to meet his lips. Of their own volition, her legs twined around his belly. Large hands lifted her nightgown, cool air preceded the sensual heat of his palms on her bared flesh. She quivered with sensation and drove her heels into his muscled back.
The kiss was so entrancing, so all-consuming that it was a shock when she felt the sheets beneath her. As she settled onto the lumpy mattress, he let go of her to tug her nightgown over her head. “I don’t think we need this,” he purred.
She reached for his zipper. His hands covered hers. “Let me,” he said. “I’ve only got the one.” He groaned as he lowered the zipper very carefully.
He hadn’t bothered with underwear when he got up to check on her. His cock was long and thick and dripping. It was her turn to purr. He pushed his pants down his legs and tossed them on the floor on top of her nightgown. She put both arms over her head and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward for his eyes. She didn’t know where this fierce desire came from. It was not her usual style.
Neil smiled approvingly. Warm fingers grazed her nipples and plucked them. “Beautiful,” he breathed. He caressed her sensitive skin and drew one taut nipple into his mouth and suckled. She drew in a sharp breath when his beard rasped against her tender flesh.
“Sorry.” He stopped to smooth his unruly hair before passing both hands over his face. When he was done, he was sleek and elegant. And his jaw was as smooth as if freshly shaved.
“How did you do that?” she asked suspiciously.
He shrugged. “How do we change into animals? Or make tears? We just do.”
“Must be nice not to need a razor.” Or submit to a bikini wax. Which reminded her that she hadn’t had any opportunity for personal grooming since she last took rabbit.
He chuckled and began to nuzzle her breasts again, burying his face in their curves and breathing in deeply. “You smell fantastic.” He worked his way down her belly, licking and kissing and sending flickers of primal heat through her whole body. She was one hot, sensual ache. And then he buried his face in her muff and breathed in deeply.
“I think I just died and went to heaven. You smell like Aphrodite.”
“The Goddess of Love! I’m a rabbit.” And no kind of a sex goddess.
“Then maybe like Flora, the Goddess of flowering plants.” He laughed into her bush and nuzzled her clit.
Her thighs quivered involuntarily and clutched his head. He didn’t stop but burrowed deeper, licking and nibbling her inner thighs before moving to her folds. Sip, lap, suck, kiss, until she was writhing and on the brink.
“Let go,” he urged. “I’ll catch you.”
Sex had always been problematic for her. There seemed to be only two types of guys in the world. The ones who figured a dumpling like her should be grateful for whatever dribble of attention came her way. And the ones who figured that active participation in bed meant ministering to their pleasure. Oh, wait. That was just the one type.
Neil broke the mold. He seemed determined to kill her with pleasure. She had never been able to really let go when a guy ate her out. But when he begged her to climax, she came like gangbusters. Stronger even than she did alone with her own personal little rabbit. Afterward she was boneless with pleasure, but not so lost to sensation that she didn’t notice the weird way her personal vibrations fell into synchrony with his. Had to be some sort of dragon magic.
He fished around in his pants’ pocket and produced a small, square packet.
“You won’t need that,” she said shyly. “I haven’t been sitting on a footstool doing my embroidery with my legs crossed. You can’t get me pregnant, and shifters don’t get sexually transmitted diseases.”
“I guess you haven’t heard that Raven Fairchild Drake took the curse off us dragons,” he
said.
“Raven the fairy who married your cousin Alister?”
“That’s the one. She unhexed the whole lot of us.”
“I don’t believe you.” How was such a thing even possible? Everyone knew that dragons had to marry virgins or they couldn’t make them into dragonesses and only dragonesses could have dragonlings. No one could change something as fundamental as that.
He stiffened. “I would never lie to you. And it’s scarcely a joking matter.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to figure out what it all meant.
“Well, sweetheart, condom or bareback? There’s absolutely nothing I’d rather do than turn you into a dragoness tonight, unless it’s knock you up, but it’s your call. You decide.”
“There’s no need to be vulgar.”
“Nothing vulgar about transforming your mate or getting her pregnant. I’ll take that as an undecided.” He sheathed himself and reached for a pillow. “Lift up, sweetheart, let’s get you in position.”
“In position?” she squeaked. She absolutely did not do kinky.
“I want your hips higher.” He tucked the hotel’s rather flat pillow under her butt before spreading her legs. “Bring your knees up?” he begged, positioning himself in the cradle of her legs.
She tasted herself on his lips when his tongue swept gently against hers. He gazed into her eyes as if he wanted to memorize them, or mesmerize her. A finger played with her still pulsing clit. “Ready?” His voice was guttural. Almost grim.
Well, it was his turn. “Yes.”
His cock slipped into her vagina. He was rock hard, balanced on his hands, doing deep push-ups to kiss her. He sighed as if he was about to come. She thrust upward to indicate he could come deeper. A hand pulled her hips down. The shaft of his cock ground deliciously against her clit and pubic bone. “I had more of a bump and grind in mind,” he gritted.
It took a moment to get the hang of the sideways motion that delivered the biggest thrill. His body dominated hers, but the waves of pleasure just kept coming, along with those deep, tender kisses. Under her clutching hands, his back was rigid. She screamed as another all-engulfing climax ripped through her whole body.
Dragon Intrigues Page 7
