Finding The Forgotten (Rogue Dragons Book 2)

by Emilia Hartley

  No, he knew where he wanted to be. In the room next to his own, wrapped around the woman that had mystified him. He’d become addicted to Isabella’s soft and sweet nature. When Dillon gave everything he had to Erik and Gavin day after day, Isabella gave back to Dillon. She filled him with bright sunshine, a taste he craved even now.

  But Erik needed him right now. Three times since they’d moved into the cabin with Gavin, Erik’s second beast had taken over. The monster had stormed toward the cabin each time, stopped only by Dillon. He’d gotten a couple of new scars from the feral monstrosity, but it hadn’t caused any more harm than that.

  He didn’t understand how Erik could hold two dragons. Dillon was a big man and he barely had enough room inside himself for his one beast. Erik had two crammed into his narrow frame. One beast had helped them the night of the fire. Dillon had no problem with that beast. It was the second, the sickly green dragon that Erik kept locked away, that Dillon worried about.

  If Dillon didn’t keep his post on nights like these, the cabin wouldn’t be standing. It seemed as though the beast had a taste for destruction and nothing else.

  “G-go back inside,” Erik called out.

  Dillon responded with a grunt.

  Erik jerked, tossed to one side probably by his second beast. “I mean it, man. Don’t worry about me.”

  Dillon sighed. If he didn’t worry about his friends, then they would end up doing things they regretted. There was no one else who could do what Dillon did. No one would stand on the edge of a ravine all night. No one would watch over Gavin when Zander paid them a surprise visit.

  An incredible weight settled on Dillon’s shoulders until he thought his ankles had descended into the dirt below. He moved his feet, just to make sure he wasn’t sinking into the earth. When he blew out a breath, he struggled to fill his constricted lungs.

  “M-man, I’ve b-been dealing with this bitch for almost three decades now,” Erik said from in the ditch. “I don’t need you.”

  Dillon shook his head. “I need you. Can’t leave you alone and have you get hurt.”

  Erik stopped and looked up at Dillon. The words seemed to have quieted the internal struggle and allowed Erik a moment to process what Dillon just said. The monster didn’t give Erik long, though, because he shuddered and bent double once more.

  Both Erik and monster exhausted themselves in the struggle, falling asleep before sunrise. Dillon hauled his friend over his shoulder and carried him inside so they could both crash. After depositing Erik into his own room, Dillon staggered down the hall.

  Bleary and sleep deprived, Dillon opened the door he thought was his own. Except, when he looked up, he found Isabella staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. He jerked upright, suddenly awake and ashamed. A searing heat crossed his cheeks, but he couldn’t get his feet to back up.

  He stood before her, trapped by the beast that had taken control of his lower half. Dillon dared a glance down and heaved a sigh of relief when he found her fully clothed.

  “Good morning,” Isabella said, finally.

  “Ah, mornin’.” He tried to move. He really did.

  The sunlight pouring through her window painted her hair with a golden aura. The freckles along the bridge of her nose and her shoulders seemed to dance with light, like glitter. If she wasn’t a fey creature, then she had to be a witch because she had thoroughly enchanted him.

  “Would you like breakfast?” she asked.

  I’d like to eat you for breakfast.

  He shook himself. “No. I was headed to bed.”

  Her lips formed a disappointed pout that sent his stomach plummeting to his feet.

  Chapter Nine

  Isabella’s mind wandered, mostly over Dillon’s body. She shouldn’t have indulged the thoughts, but she couldn’t seem to extract herself from them. Her gaze slipped down his front, to the small slice of exposed skin from how his shirt lifted over his hips.

  Dillon scratched the back of his head and the shirt lifted higher.

  She wanted to close the door behind him and pull him inside so she could wrap herself around his body. As much as she told herself there was nothing sexual about the desire to hold him, her mind travelled south.

  Were this like one of the romance novels she wrote, he would have swept her into his arms the moment he barged into her room. He would have confessed everything he felt for her and they would have had a happily ever after.

  Isabella didn’t get stories like that. Her own life seemed devoid of that fairytale love. Dillon would realize, sooner or later, that she wasn’t worth waiting for. Would it happen when she started growing an unignorable bump? Or when she birthed a child that shared no blood with him?

  She knew men didn’t like that. They wanted their women to carry children they made, not the children of others.

  Isabella ducked her head. “Well, have a good rest, then.”

  “I can eat breakfast,” he said quickly.

  Her heart lifted, but as she took him in it became clear that what Dillon really needed was sleep. She took his hand and pulled him further into the room. He reached back, slapping the door shut without taking his eyes off her.

  Her heart pattered with excitement, but she didn’t act on the desire warming her core. Instead, she pulled Dillon down onto the bed and curled around him.

  “I’m the little spoon?” he asked, almost incredulous.

  She pressed her cheek to his back and smiled. “Sometimes what you need is to be the little spoon. Doesn’t matter who you are in the relationship.”

  She stroked the shirt hairs growing along his scalp and lowered her hand to run it along the planes of his chest. Dillon relaxed into her. The world shrank to just the two of them and the morning light.

  It surprised her that this simple act of cuddling could ease so much of the pain that’d been holding onto her still. She could breathe easier with Dillon in her arms. She only wished she could keep him like this forever.

  It seemed as though so much still stood in their way. Not only was there a fight heading their way, but there was still a fight going on inside of her. She would never be the woman he needed so long as she panicked when he tried to protect her. He would never stop doing it. Her humanity and her pregnancy probably made her seem fragile in his eyes.

  He squirmed and rolled over, so she did the same. His chest warmed her back as he wound his arm around her middle.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” Dillon whispered.

  His nose nudged her earlobe and sent a thrill dancing down her spine. She arched into him just as she felt his teeth on her skin. A pleased moan slipped out from between her lips and brought a growl from Dillon.

  He gripped her tighter. She could feel his own desire manifested and pressing against her back end. She didn’t hesitate to press into him. His breath warmed the back of her neck. The sensations all made her core throb with a kind of need she’d never experienced before.

  Isabella had always thought herself incapable of wanting what men wanted from her. She never wanted to lie down with them. Every time she’d slept with Tommy had been a vain effort to keep him happy.

  With Dillon, she ached. She wanted to explore his body and discover all the ways she could bring him to climax. The revelation that she’d never been at fault exhilarated her. A whole new world opened before her and filled her with a new kind of daring.

  She took Dillon’s hand and pulled it lower until he found the space between her legs. His growl told her he wanted it, too. He cupped her and sent a spark of pleasure through her core.

  “Are you ready for me?” he asked, voice low in her ear.

  Her throat tightened, every ounce of her body clenched tight because she couldn’t handle the need overtaking her. Surely, he could tell. How could he not? She whimpered with frustration.

  “This is better than sleep,” Dillon said as his fingers found their way beneath her shorts. He drew in a sharp breath when he found her bare folds.

  “I need to do laundry
,” she said in a rush. “Ran out of underwear.”

  “So, you can tell me that, but you can’t tell me if you’re ready?”

  Though he teased her, he didn’t seem bothered by her silence. He slid his fingers between her folds. The sensation that blossomed around his touch was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. He didn’t plunge inside her immediately. Instead, Dillon took his time building the sensation. He drew circles over her most sensitive spot, sometimes slipping directly over it to bring a gasp out of her.

  Just when she had a plea for more on her lips, Dillon explored lower. He found her entrance. She could already feel that she was slicker than she’d ever been before. Tender love and attention made a difference.

  He started with a fingertip. She whined and pressed into his hand. He laughed and stopped her with his other hand over her lower stomach. She thought he would call her greedy and pull away altogether, then he filled her. Her core spasmed over his finger.

  A finger.

  If he could make her feel this with only his hand, then what could he do with his cock?

  She barely had time to think because the hand he’d pressed to her stomach dipped lower and into her folds. While he stroked her most sensitive place, his other hand delved in and out of her until she felt like she might shatter.

  The pressure built and built, radiating with pleasure. Isabella’s chin quivered. There was a scream inside her, waiting to be unleashed. She finished with him inside her. Her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm. She released a scream that she muffled into her pillow.

  Behind her, Dillon chuckled. He sounded satisfied even though she’d done nothing for him. When she tried to twist in his arms and face him so she could repay the favor, he held her so she couldn’t move.

  “But I should…” she tried.

  He kissed her shoulder. “I’m going to show you that you come first.”

  “Did you mean that literally? Was that a pun?”

  “I mean that your needs will always be put before mine and that I’m going to make sure you climax every time we touch like this. More than once, if I have any say.” His voice vibrated her bones and filled her with the truth of his words.

  She scowled, her lips twisting to the side. Though she thought she felt the truth of what he was saying, she’d been tricked before. No man had ever walked away from her unfinished. They always made sure that their needs were met. She’d spent too many nights feeling used and empty to not know this.

  Dillon wasn’t…he was nothing like the men she’d known, but he was still a man. She wriggled in his arms, trying to turn around, but he held her tight.

  “I don’t want to make you suffer,” she said softly.

  “Suffer? I’m holding a pretty woman and thinking I could have a long and happy future with her. How is that suffering?” His breath warmed the back of her neck.

  “If you think I’m pretty, then why don’t you want me to help you finish? Why won’t you let me turn around?” Her heart raced in an uneven rhythm. She wanted to calm it but had no idea how.

  “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I also think you work too damn hard. That’s a fact I know because I also work too much. Let me give back to you now and show you that a man can be perfectly pleased just by holding a woman he made happy. Someday in the future, you can return the favor, but right now is all about you.”

  She didn’t understand why he would say things like that, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. Dillon had made his declaration. She would see where it led them. If it led to moments like this, then who was she to argue?

  ***

  Dillon fell asleep in her bed. Isabella carefully extracted herself and showered so she could head to the store to pick up some groceries. She texted Isabella and Nellie to meet at a café in town so she could tell them what happened.

  The smell of coffee and tea comforted her. When she ordered her usual iced chai latte, she pulled out her credit card and hesitated. She’d called and cancelled the card, which meant this purchase had to go on her debit card. Her bank account had bills automatically withdrawn, which meant she didn’t know what was left in the account until she checked.

  The last thing she needed was or the account to be overdrawn over a drink.

  When someone nudged her out of the way, Isabella opened her mouth in shock. Nellie’s plump form stepped forward and handed over her card. She added an iced cold brew coffee and a flat white to the order, too.

  “You beat me there!” Evangeline shouted as she burst through the door.

  “Don’t be mad that a fat girl can run faster than you,” Nellie said as she tossed Isabella a wink.

  “You’re wearing sneakers,” Evangeline pointed out before lifting her foot forward to emphasize her heavy leather combat boots.

  Nellie shrugged, unaffected. “Maybe you should wear more reasonable shoes.”

  Isabella put her hands up to stop both from arguing. “Are we going to ignore the fact that you raced here to pay for my drink? You didn’t have to do that!”

  Evangeline hooked her arm with Isabella’s and led her to a table. “We were at the end of the road when we saw you enter the café. Besides, the shop is busier than ever. You don’t have to worry about the price of a single coffee.”

  Nellie brought their orders over, somehow juggling all three at once. Isabella scowled, wondering if Nellie used witchcraft to aid her.

  “Gavin is still obsessed with looking for you,” Isabella told Nellie.

  Nellie’s nose wrinkled. While Nellie could be boisterous with her friends, she shrunk in the presence of strangers. The arrival of the dragon men had only made it worse. Nellie had an aversion to them that almost seemed like an allergy. If she got within even a hundred feet of them, she broke out in a nervous sweat.

  It seemed that it had even interrupted Nellie’s sleep because the dark circles under her eyes nearly eclipsed her cheeks. Isabella didn’t think her concealer would match Nellie’s skin tone or she would have passed it over.

  “He won’t find me. I’ve cast a strong cloaking spell over myself. Let him keep trying to find me.” Nellie took a long chug from her drink.

  Isabella’s brows came together. “I think he just wants to thank you for what you did the night of the…fire.”

  Nellie shook her head, apparently unconvinced. Isabella sighed. She wished she could show Nellie that the dragon men weren’t awful. Even Gavin could be nice from time to time.

  “More importantly,” Evangeline said. “I need to know how you managed to wrap them all around your finger. Bel, you’ve worked your own kind of magic over those boys.”

  Isabella shrugged, her cheeks warming. “I didn’t do anything. They appreciate it when I make food for them. That’s all.”

  The conversation became about how men liked food almost as much as they liked women. Isabella pointed out that not all men liked women and how people needed food to survive. Evangeline and Nellie visibly held back their laughter at Isabella’s kind innocence.

  She didn’t mind. When there was so much pain in this world, she wanted to spread some compassion. Even if it meant having her friends laugh at her, Isabella held a bit of pride in knowing she was making a small difference in the world.

  To distract them from their laughter, she began to tell them about her morning. She lowered her voice and explained how Dillon had mistakenly entered her room. She was pretty sure he’d been so tired that he’d opened the wrong door, but she wasn’t mad about how it had ended. If anything, she felt better than she had in years.

  Both Evangeline and Nellie looked about to burst. Their lips curled into smiles, the kind that shared an inside joke, but Isabella didn’t get it.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I called it!” Evangeline shouted.

  The whole café paused and turned to stare at them. Isabella ducked her head in embarrassment. Nellie elbowed Evangeline and held a finger to her lips to hush her.

  “We took
bets on what you wanted to tell us,” Nellie explained once the café patrons had gone back to their own business.

  Evangeline’s grin nearly eclipsed her face. “I said you were going to tell us that you and Dillon finally hooked up. I saw the way you looked at him when the guys first came to town. Remember what you said?”

  Isabella rolled her eyes. “If I wasn’t a taken woman, I would take one of them…or something to that effect.”

  Nellie’s smile slowly stiffened. Her gaze lowered to her drink.

  “What is it?” Isabella touched her friend’s arm, hoping she hadn’t offended Nellie.

  Just then, the bell over the door chimed. All three girls turned toward the sound at once, as if they knew who they would find. Dillon raised his hand and waved. Isabella didn’t know why he wasn’t sleeping or why he was at the café.

  Her heart slapped her sternum. She swallowed and tried to suppress her rising anxiety, but it continued to crackle behind her ribs. He wasn’t Tommy. Yet, when she told herself this, it had no effect on her heart.

  When Dillon approached, she looked up at him and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  His features crumpled, as though she’d wounded him.

  Erik put a hand on Dillon’s shoulder. “You can’t just interrupt girls’ day.”

  Isabella had been so distracted by Dillon’s presence that she hadn’t noticed Erik, Casey, and Gavin. While Evangeline leapt out of her seat to throw her arms around her mate’s neck, Nellie stiffened in her seat.

  Dillon drew her attention back to him when he said, “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

  Guilt dropped like a stone in her gut. She felt the impact of it, how it bent her spine and soured her stomach. Dillon wasn’t trying to be overbearing. He wasn’t tracking her down to see what she was up to.

  He’s not Tommy.

  She could find no similarities between the two men, and yet her body refused to behave. One moment, she was head over heels with desire. The next, fight or flight kicked in and made her want to run for the door.