She rose, slid the door open, barely dried off her hands on a hand towel, and texted him, dripping wet: Ten, tonight? and then sat back down in the tub’s warm embrace with her phone on the tile beside her. At least now, Eumie couldn’t give her shit when they saw her next. She’d tried.
Which meant now she could hide back beneath the water because it was insane.
Oh, but only if he hadn’t stopped her—if she’d twined herself around him in the pool when she’d had the chance. Looking back, it’d been totally unsafe, of course, but here in her tub, submerged under hot water with her fevered imaginings, she closed her eyes and ran her hands over her body, lifting her breasts out of the water and into the cooler air, tugging at her nipples. She remembered the way he’d pulled her to him, his hands so eager to take what they wanted—the way she’d been so ready to let him. She left one hand across her chest, making lazy circles around a breast as though it were a tongue while the other drifted lower…slowly. Was he the kind of man who would take his time and torture her thoroughly? Would he make her wait until she ached?
Or would he be upon her in an instant, irresistible and irreversible? Taking what he wanted, making her give herself to him?
She didn’t rightly know, but the more she thought about him, the more she knew she needed to make herself come. She kicked the plug of the tub loose, setting the water to drain, then turned on the faucet again until it was as hot as he had been where he’d touched her, before laying back and sliding herself down until it was pouring between her thighs. All of her was slick and hot and finally clean, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine him grabbing her hips to his, pulling her closer in time. She reached up and twisted the dial until the water was pounding, just like she hoped he would be, demanding and relentless, flowing over every part of her. She reached an arm back to push herself farther under its flow, arching her hips up, feeling the water pulse and surge—no mere man could ever hope to keep up with its intensity. But a dragon as a man, thrusting himself inside her… A dragon as a man, rubbing against her clit… A man—a dragon—just might—her toes pointed and her fists clenched and she had the wisdom to grab her washcloth and bite onto it before she screamed. She shuddered under the water as it licked her like a tongue until she was through with it and she could reach up to turn it off to lay panting in the tub, water seeping from between her thighs.
Samantha knocked on the wall through the hallway a few minutes later. “Everything all right in there?”
Her phone buzzed beside her. She pushed herself out of the tub to look down at the screen and saw his texted response: Yes.
She bit her lips, not sure if she was happy, scared, hopeful, or just a stomach-churning mixture of all three.
“Andi?” Sammy pressed, knocking on the wall again.
“I’m totally fine!” she lied.
Chapter 13
Damian raced his sleek car through traffic, driving through the Briar’s gates and up into the hills beyond. There was a certain path he’d run as a man so many times he knew it like the back of his hand. Whenever he’d felt the need to prove that this body was his and not his dragon’s, it seemed the simplest way to feel that was to hurt it—running for miles on nearly desolate roads until he reached the final dead end, and even he was exhausted, covered in sweat, stopping at switchbacks and staring out at vistas few others got to see. It was in the course of those moments when he was punishing himself for existing that he often found clarity and maybe driving it now would help him find it again.
Andi hadn’t run away from him—or from anything. In fact, she’d gone and put herself into even more danger. Why? Because it was the right thing to do, yes, but wasn’t there a faint chance that she’d done it for him? To be—to stay—with him?
He’d had scads of women throw themselves at him before. He knew he was good-looking; he wasn’t an idiot. He was handsome enough to have had an easy time with them without his money. But most women were blinded by either his presence or his bank account. He’d had precious few ever try to learn more about the man inside—nor could he afford to share—given what he was, what he did.
Which was what made Andi exceptional. Without trying to, and without any ulterior motive, she’d managed to see his reality.
And she hadn’t run away.
She’d been scared—he’d read it in her eyes—but she’d stayed.
And she’d even fought to keep those memories! Which was only fair, considering the ones he now had of her. His car careened around another corner, almost feeling like he was in flight, the coin hanging under his rear-view mirror swaying as he imagined her swimming in the pool. The way her dark hair trailed out over the surface of his dragon’s bathing pond, the way the water beaded on her skin as she emerged. The way she’d clearly wanted to mount him in his bedroom. How perfect her breasts were, both in the pond and when he’d gotten to touch one underneath the fur, remembering the weight of it in his palm, the quick tautness of her nipple at his touch.
Damian wanted to touch her, and he wanted to give her so much more. His hands wrung the steering wheel as he took another turn at high speed, feeling the pressure of his inseam against his now erect cock. The last of the succubus’s poison working itself out? Doubtful. No—this was all him. Set on her. Set on being with her—being inside her. The thought made him rock-hard and stirred his sleeping dragon.
When would he see her again? She would text him. He was sure of it. Wasn’t he? He craved her—he needed her—she had to text him.
And he knew he would ache until she did. Damian growled at himself. There were times when self-control was necessary, but now wasn’t one of them. He had to take the edge off. He took another turn at breakneck speed and stepped on the gas as he reached for his belt, unlatching it quickly, before sinking his hand.
If he had followed her up the stairs to her apartment…if he’d caught her inside the door and pressed her against the wall…if he’d fit his mouth to hers and pushed his tongue in—he stroked himself rhythmically, in time to his thoughts, following the road from memory, increasing in speed. His cock in her mouth, then her hot thighs parting, him buried deep inside, thrusting, listening to her moan—he knew he was running out of road, but he felt like not coming was more likely to kill him than any accident. He needed this prelude—to exorcise his lust, to make it possible to just be himself around her the same way he wanted her to be around him.
Go take her, his dragon whispered.
Damian grit his teeth, still stroking. If his dragon had his way, they’d abandon the car now, fly back to her apartment, rip off its roof, and steal her away. The closer he got, the more willing he was to entertain doing it. He raced through another turn, his eyes half-lidded, and his jaw dropped, driving on instinct as he pumped his hand. In his mind, he was thrusting himself inside her, feeling her entire body tense…
Claim her.
Andi below him, calling his name, hips bucking…
Mate her.
In his mind, she came below him, and he reveled in the glory of it before letting it bring…him… home. He gasped—shuddering, momentarily transported—before he looked over the steering wheel and saw the road about to end. His foot slammed on the brake, and he yanked the emergency brake and the car spun in a squealing circle until it stopped, and he got out, angrily tucking his shirt back in—ignoring the warm, wet spot spreading against his stomach.
There was only a hair’s breadth of space between the far side of his car and the guardrail. It would take a twenty-point turn to get him away from it without scratching anything. He stood at the end of the road and looked over it, at how close he’d come to needing to shift to save his life.
Andi, his dragon purred—perhaps the first time his dragon had ever used another human’s name. Mine, his dragon said, and set him aflame with desire from the inside out. Damian staggered and caught himself on the car hood, cursing, trying to push his urges down. Instead of finding closure with his hand, he’d only opened Pandora’s Box—and fo
und his own dragon waiting inside.
How could he let himself get like this—over a human?
He reached for his phone and found a text waiting from her: Ten, tonight? and a slow liquid-like sensation of satisfaction perfused his entire body.
Yes, he typed back without hesitating.
Chapter 14
Andi woke up just in time to call in sick without getting into trouble, which was good because trouble was already waiting for her outside.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Danny, does it?”
She could hear Sammy interrogating someone in their living room—and could sense from Sammy’s tone that her roommate’s arms were crossed. Andi groaned and stretched in bed. She’d taken some ibuprofen before she’d gone to sleep, but she was the kind of sore that only moving more would fix.
Why? Because she’d taken a three-hour nap in a sports car that morning.
“Are you sure? Because Danny is bad news, and we don’t want any of that around here.”
She sat up in bed, blinking awake and listening. Sammy was talking louder now—on purpose. To warn her.
“Don’t make me call the cops.”
Andi’s eyes widened. For Sammy to threaten that… She reached under her bed for her aluminum baseball bat. In a T-shirt and boxer shorts, she crept out to the living room, hugging one wall with the bat low. The hall was too narrow for her to take a proper swing, but she could take a decent golf stroke into someone’s balls if she had to.
“Like I told you, she’s asleep. I’ll pass your message along.”
“And like I told you, I’d rather wait.” Andi heard the other person for the first time and realized it was a woman. A ball-shot was off the table, but maybe a crotch-shot would do. She peeked out of the hallway and saw Sammy talking to someone with platinum blonde hair. “There she is,” the woman sitting on their couch said, turning. “Good morning, Miss Andrea.”
The only one who called her Andrea anymore now that her mom had passed was… “Who are you?” Andi stepped into the living room and swung the bat up to her shoulder.
She turned herself on the couch to face Andi. She was dressed in a short black dress that made the stark-whiteness of her face and limbs brighter, and the deep red of her lips more menacing. The only thing out of place on her was what looked like a tiger-claw on the end of a leather thong around her neck, tucked against her cleavage. She stood, her heels making her tower over Andi. “Your esteemed uncle sent me. He has recently returned to town and desires to have dinner with you this evening.”
Uncle Lee. She knew it. Andi groaned. “I’m going to work. I work nightshift. He knows that.”
“So?”
Nobody else needed to know she had other plans for the evening. “So…I don’t go out on school nights, Miss…”
“Elsa.”
“Thanks, Elsa. I’m sorry he sent you for me, but we’ll have to reschedule.”
Elsa paused, then redoubled. “It will just be a light dinner; you’ll be done well before your shift starts—”
“No,” Andi said.
“Yes,” the woman demanded, as though that made it so. Andi just stared at the woman, wondering at the gall of her, and Sammy started apologizing.
“She barged in here, Andi…I’m sorry…I’ll get my phone—”
Andi waved her aside. It wasn’t Sammy’s fault; her uncle’d been trying to micromanage her life for as long as she could remember—him and all his money. She didn’t think he meant to lord it over their poorer mother’s side on purpose; it was just how he was. Only unlike their absentee father, none of his gifts ever came without a price. It was why she still had student loans. She couldn’t stand the thought of him taking credit for her education until the day she died. Although she had contacted him when Danny’d run out on his hearing—because if her derelict brother ever did come back, he would need an amazingly expensive lawyer to stay out of prison.
But Danny’s problems were his problems. And she wasn’t going to give up her evening with Damian now—with no warning—at her uncle’s say-so. Andi set the baseball bat down on the back of the couch. “Look, lady, I don’t think you’re going to wrangle me out of here in spike heels.”
A smile fluttered across the woman’s face. “You’d be surprised.”
Andi snorted. She couldn’t imagine her uncle dating someone quite so…blonde. But she could imagine him being thrilled to boss someone like Elsa around. She squinted. “Are you his secretary?”
“Akin to one, yes.”
That explained it. If her uncle had told someone he’d hired to retrieve her, maybe they were afraid of getting fired if they failed him. Uncle Lee could also be a little bit of an asshole.
Andi held her hands out in a sympathetic fashion. “Okay…so, I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. And I know the whole impossibly bossy thing he does—he swans into town and then we’re all supposed to drop everything and go see him because he’s our uncle and who doesn’t like red envelopes?” Andi couldn’t remember how many Christmases and Lunar New Years Uncle Lee had saved just by showing up. “And I know he’s my family…and I do want to see him! But tonight is just not going to be that night, okay? I don’t know what he told you, but I’m sure he made me hanging out with him sound more important to your job than it really is. He’s not going to fire you if I don’t come back—swear. That’s just how he talks; I promise.”
Elsa frowned deeply. “Your uncle is the kind of man who gets what he wants.”
“Yeah, I know.” Andi pinched the bridge of her nose. “But right now, what I want is to heat and eat a frozen pizza and then go back to bed for a nap before work.”
Elsa considered this. “All right. When can we reschedule?”
Andi sighed. How about never? But if there was anything her mother’d beaten into her thick skull, it was the importance of honoring her elders. And with Danny on the lam, her uncle—as distasteful as his obsession with being worshipped was—was all she had left.
“Next weekend. I’m off.” That way she’d have time to brace for it. She’d listen to Uncle Lee talk about how important he was without ever explaining exactly why or how and tolerate him implying that she and Danny were ungrateful—both separately and together. She loved Uncle Lee; she’d known him her whole life, but he always acted like she was her brother’s keeper—which she disliked—plus, it felt weird to reach out to him when she never knew what time zone he was in. The last time she’d called instead of texted had been when her mom was sick, and he’d been asleep in Sri Lanka.
He had still picked up though—and he was practically family. So, next weekend she’d tell him more about the latest stupid thing that Danny had done, and he’d feel an even bigger man then because Danny—once he resurfaced—really would need his help. She could see it on his face now like a movie marquee—Uncle Lee riding in one last time to help the Ngo twins out.
It really was a shame Danny wasn’t around; first, because this was all his fault, and second, because he’d practiced enough to do a really stunning impression of their uncle.
Elsa typed very quickly on her phone, waited for a response, then returned her attention to Andi. “Very well. Your ride will be here next Saturday at seven o’clock. Try to dress appropriately for the occasion.” The woman gestured to herself as an example, and Andi resolved to wear fuzzy pajamas with feet.
“Sure,” Andi said. The woman stood, and Andi walked behind her, opening the door and seeing her out. She watched her gracefully take the flight of stairs and step into a car opened by a dapper driver wearing sunglasses even though it was dark out. But he wasn’t as dapper as Damian had been. Andi bit her lips not to smile.
When she returned, Sammy was holding a pint of ice cream.
“Man, what a bitch. I should’ve just called the cops to teach her a lesson.” Sammy dug into the pint with a spoon.
“What is this I’m hearing? Samantha O’Connor, admitting that sometimes the cops have a point?”
Sammy poi
nted at herself with the spoon. “I’m straight now, ain’t I?” she said in her Irish lilt, her curly red hair in a tangled bun atop her head. She worked at a mom and pop body shop now—entirely legit—a complete one-eighty from the underground and illegitimate one she’d worked at when she’d been dating Danny, helping him fence stolen parts. Dating Sammy had been the best thing her brother had ever done, and dumping him had been the best thing possible for Samantha.
Andi grinned at her roomie. “You are. And…she’s not worth it.” Andi sank down beside her on their couch. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where it was okay to call the cops—everyone here had a slightly guilty conscience due to one or more illegal side-gigs. Cops would make too many of their neighbors nervous, not to mention their landlord, if he learned of it. And cops in this town were the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type; she’d seen enough trauma cases at the hospital to know.
“I just didn’t think anyone dressed in so much designer-shit would be that rude,” Sammy said, shoveling a wedge of triple-chocolate fudge in.
Andi snorted. “The designer-shit makes them ruder.”
“Pro-bab-ly,” Sammy said around her bite, panting to not get a cold rush. “So how was last night? Everything you dreamed and more?”
Andi felt herself flushing. “I got paid well?”
“Cheers to that,” Sammy said, tilting the pint up at her. “I was getting worried when you didn’t come home in the morning.”
“Oh, no, it was a twelve-hour thing,” Andi said, covering quickly. “I didn’t know until I was there, though. I spent all night watching someone’s sick great aunt.”
“Easy money then, too!” Sammy proffered the pint out to Andi. “Is it ice cream for breakfast or dinner for you?”
On a normal day off, Andi would’ve totally joined her, and they’d have booted Netflix up for the latest serial killer documentary. But while she’d already called in sick, tonight would be anything but normal. “Ummmmmm,” she hedged, glancing at her phone.
Dragon Called: A Slow Burn Sexy Paranormal Romance Page 11