Her taste exploded on his tongue—sunlight and chocolate with a hint of sugar and spice. Or lemonade and ice-cream…any combination of delicious things. He didn’t have a fucking clue, all he knew was he wasn’t done kissing her. He might never be done kissing her in this lifetime, or the next.
With a growl, he drove a hand into her hair, holding her head still so he could part her lips further with his tongue and taste the delights within. He kept his tongue human, just in case. Some women went mad for the old forked flicker, but he didn’t want to push it. Not with his mate.
She murmured as he deepened the kiss, the sound of pleasure lost in his mouth. He didn’t miss it though, neither did his dragon within. Pleasure rolled through him from the center of his chest outward. His kisses delighted his little mate, despite this nonsense she was spouting about belonging to two others, and that was all that mattered.
Sliding his tongue along hers in long strokes, he walked her backward until her ass bumped the edge of the big kitchen table. Reaching out, he put a hand flat on the surface to test it. Firm enough. He didn’t want to dump his little mate on the floor. She might bruise that lush ass and that would never do.
Unless…well, he could always kiss it better if that happened. He sent a silent prayer that the table did collapse. Win-win situation. For him. And her because he sure as hell wasn’t going to kiss her ass better with those fugly jeans on, and if he got her naked then he wasn’t going to stop at just kissing her ass. Hell, no.
Urging her up and back onto the table, he stepped between her parted thighs and shrugged his jacket off. She murmured, the sexy little sound soft in the back of his throat, and clutched at his shirt. His hands joined hers at the buttons. The damn tiny things proved elusive for both of them so he broke the kiss, his voice ragged.
“Just rip them open, sweetness,” he urged her, taking her lips again before she could get a coherent thought together and push him away with more nonsense about polyamorous relationships. When he was kissing her he could make sure she didn’t think. Make sure she operated on instinct only and since she was his mate, that instinct would mean her body wanted him, and him alone.
She bunched her hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling it taut. He helped by tensing the muscles of his chest and shoulders to make the fit even tighter. Wrapping his tongue around hers again, he withdrew and made her chase him. She growled at him, which made him chuckle, the sound so low he’d be surprised if she could hear it, no matter what type of shifter blood she had.
The sound of tearing fabric filled the air, and he gasped in delight when her little claws kissed his skin. Heat and lust roared through his veins, his cock as stiff as a flagpole. He extended his own talons, shredding the rest of the shirt for her to pull it from his body and hissed as her small hands set to exploring.
Just her touch was enough to threaten his control. He cupped her face with both hands to drink from her lips. In the back of his mind, his dragon coiled over and about itself, lust and possessiveness uppermost in the beast’s mind.
He moved closer. Slid one hand down her spine to pull her closer. She allowed the move, even whimpered when his cock pressed tightly into the space between her thighs and he wanted to roar in triumph. She was his, all his…
He lifted his head, tearing his lips from hers. “Hedgehog?”
“Wha—?” She blinked up at him, the soft, sexy look in her eyes giving him another kick to the balls as he imagined her in his bed, all sweetly pliant after sex. Tired out after he’d made her scream his name time after time. He forced the fantasy down, vowing to make it a reality before long.
Grandpa Kenton was a wily one, not shy about offering his opinion that Joey needed to come back home, settle down and raise a passel of brats in the old farmhouse. So it didn’t surprise him that the old man had figured out exactly the same thing Joey had within seconds of scenting her. That she was Joey’s mate.
“Werehedgehog, right?” he clarified, watching her expressive face for a reaction. “Not too many of you guys around. I didn’t realize there was a pack in the area.”
The soft look faded from her face and she pushed at his shoulders. Just to be an ass, he resisted, holding his position between her thighs. So sue him, he liked her denim-covered pussy rubbing against his cock. If it was up to him, and had this been five hundred years ago, he’d have claimed her there and then on the kitchen table. No one argued with a dragon, much less a black.
“Yeah… well, there’s not. Not really.”
She shoved again and he relented, reading the panic in her scent. The last thing he wanted to do was scare his mate. Quickly she slid away and put the table between them, a flush on her cheeks as she concentrated on looking at his face, not at his body revealed by the lack of his shirt. The scent of blood, his blood, hung heavily in the air.
He’d chosen not to close the little wounds created by her claws, wanting…no, needing his mate’s marks on his body. Yeah, sure, that should have been marks of passion, but right at the moment, he’d take whatever she offered. Besides, his physiology was working overtime to repair the damage done by the rogue, the once open wounds now heavy scars across his ribcage, so every little break he could give it helped.
“Explain ‘not exactly.’” He tilted his head in curiosity, watching her. Drinking in every little detail about her, now that he knew who, and what, she was.
“There’s just me and my bes…my partner. Blake. He’s an Alpha. Very alpha. And then there’s Honey, she’s carrying hoglets.” Genuine affection lit up her face as she talked about her family, but he didn’t miss the shadow of sadness that crossed her face when she mentioned the guy’s name. Then she clammed up, dropping her hands on her hips to glare at him. “Not that it’s any of your damn business.”
He had to stifle his grin. She was so cute when she was mad, but with the looks she was shooting him, he was sure that skillet would be launched if he so much as dared to mention it.
“Hoglets?” His eyebrow winged up as he folded his arms. Of course, he made sure to flex and tense to show off his muscles, noting how her gaze flickered down when he did. “No wonder you guys are interested in the farm. Plenty of space. Pity it’s not on the market.”
Her expression turned thunderous. “Just you look now, Mr. High and Mighty Dragon who couldn’t be bothered to attend his own grandfather’s funeral. Old Man Kenton wanted me to have this farm, raise my kids here and that’s what I’m going to do, dammit.”
“Well,” he drawled, tilting his head to one side, ignoring the comment about his grandfather. “Technically they aren’t your kids, are they? But if you want some, I’ll happily give you a whole passel, if you’d like.”
She snarled and grabbed for the skillet again. His nose throbbed in warning and he took a couple of steps back in case she did actually decide to throw it this time.
“Whoa, whoa. No need to get your panties in a twist.” Joey held his hands out in the universal signal for surrender. “For an itty-bitty little thing, you sure are fierce. I’m quaking in my boots here.”
She gave him a look that could have frozen hell over. No problem. He was a creature of fire, he could melt any ice maiden’s heart. He tried another smile, slathering on the charm.
“Okay. You want the farm. I get it. How about we discuss this in a civilized manner, over dinner. Tonight.”
Chapter Four
Katie was never kissing Joseph Kenton again. Ever. The man’s lips were so soft and his tongue and… How would it feel if he put his tongue to use in other places?
Never mind, it didn’t matter. Because that tongue wasn’t coming near here again.
Except at dinner.
But it was staying in his mouth!
Maybe.
She groaned. She was so weak. Less than thirty minutes in her mate’s company and she was ready to turn around and present her quills to the man.
Thank goodness she got out of there. One panting kiss was enough. She’d managed to extricate herself—run—ri
ght after he demanded dinner. After a promise to call the house later with the details, she split.
Now safely in her car and racing down the dirt road that led to Old Man Kenton’s, she dug out her cellphone. She knew talking on the phone while driving was really wrong, but there were no turn-offs for the road. It was a big stretch of nothing with no driveways or roadways branching off.
Eyes on the road, she poked and prodded the screen until she finally just yelled at the thing. “Call Honey, asshole!”
“Dialing,” the electronic voice responded.
Apparently every request needed to be followed by “asshole.” Not a problem.
A handful of rings sounded before a breathless Honey finally answered. “Hello?”
Oh, God, she’d called while they were boinking. Again. Ugh. “I need your help.”
“Freak out help, kill someone help, or take my shift help?” Honey moaned, the sound filled with sex, and then she whispered. “Stop licking me there. I’m busy. No, I’m not busy with you. There are other people in the world.”
Blech. When Katie thought Blake was her mate, she would have been jealous of those sounds. Now that she saw the man as her Alpha and nothing more… it squicked her out.
Honey sighed. “I’m back. Sorry. What kind of help am I giving?”
Katie didn’t know where, exactly, to begin, so she sorta vomited it all. “Joseph Kenton showed up, and he won’t sell the house, and he’s a dragon, and he’s my mate and kisses and food.”
Silence reigned for a moment and finally her best friend spoke. “You’re eating a dragon in the new house? I don’t know…”
Katie groaned. Obviously word vomit did not work. “No, Joey Kenton, Old Man Kenton’s grandson?”
“Okay. I’m on the Understanding Express train, now.”
“He owns the house and he doesn’t want to sell it. But he’s my mate and I don’t want to mate a dragon, but he kissed me…” Memories of his lips on hers sort of took over for a minute. She especially liked the part when he sucked on her tongue a little and it went straight to her clit. Yummm… “Anyway,” she shook her head to dispel the lingering arousal. “He wants to talk about the house and selling it and stuff over dinner. I get to pick the place, so I need your help. I helped you…” She tried for her most cajoling tone.
“Yeah, but that was for the hedgie-hating jerk I dated for all of a second before I mated Blake. You’re telling me Joey Kenton hates hedgies and I should help you get rid of him?”
Katie snorted. “Believe me, the last thing he hates is hedgies.”
His rock hard cock pressed intimately against her proved that fact.
“Yeah, I don’t wanna know. So, is he hot?”
“Damn, Honey. I thought Blake was gorgeous, but Joey…”
“Hey!” The rustling of cloth reached Katie and she imagined Honey sitting up in bed. Then she tried to unimagine it. “Blake is the hottest thing ever.”
A low mumbling reached her, the deep tenor obviously coming from her Alpha, and Honey answered the questions he posed. Then that murmur turned into an outright roar—as much as werehedgehogs could yell. “Dragon?”
Well, at least Katie wasn’t the only one surprised by Joey’s presence.
Suddenly Blake’s voice filled her ear, a growl tingeing every word as he fired off questions.
Yes, he was Old Man Kenton’s grandson.
No, she hadn’t known he was coming.
Yes, she was fine. She hit him with a cast iron skillet. Things were good.
No, after that he did not eat her in any way, good or bad. She did, however break his nose. Thanks for the kudos, it was a pretty slick move if she said so herself.
Yes, he’s her mate and by the way, they have a date tonight. Could he recommend the best place to take a hoity-toity black dragon?
Oh, hadn’t she mentioned that? Yes, Old Man Kenton was particularly proud of his black dragon, Council of Twelve seat-holding grandson.
The phone changed hands at that point which put her back in the hands of her BFF, Honey.
“So,” Honey’s voice was filled with excitement. “I’m thinking you should wear The Black Dress.”
“The Black Dress is yours. You’re a bit taller and I’m a bit, uh…” How did she say fatter without pissing off her friend? The woman hated it when Katie talked bad about herself, but in this instance, there was no dancing around the truth.
“You’re more Greek goddess than me. Yes, yes you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“But all that extra cushion will make it fit you like a glove and he won’t be able to resist you. Besides, if he goes scaly, you’ll match.”
Another roar echoed over the line. “Dragon!”
“He seems to be having a problem with the dragon aspect.” Honey’s voice held more than a hint of a giggle.
“Can we refocus?” The Alpha could deal with a dragon in his territory. Katie needed to deal with said dragon in living color—or lack of color since he was black—in a couple of hours.
“Sure, sure. So, The Black Dress. And you get to pick the location? For dinner?”
Katie grinned. Sure, she’d get sexy for him. But what could she do to discomfit Mr. Put-together? “Yup. I’m thinking somewhere high-end, super classy with the best clientele our little chunk of North Carolina can manage.”
“Jasmine? No.” She imagined Honey shaking her head.
“Yup. I think it’s perfect.”
“I think you’ll get him stabbed in under ten seconds.”
She shrugged. “He’s a shifter, he’ll heal. Plus, he’s a dragon shifter. His broken nose took less than five seconds to straighten out.”
Honey moaned low and long and Katie knew there wasn’t a hint of anything sexual in the sound. “Katie… Wait. Broken nose?”
She winced. “Yeah, well, about that…”
Katie got to the explaining, which earned her an auditory high-five from her best friend. It was his own fault for scaring her, after all.
Then they got down to the nitty-gritty. Operation: Give as Good as She Got was underway. Sure, Joey was hotter than hot and totally her mate, but that didn’t mean she had to lift her quills for him. Well, at least, not yet.
*
“Run, little hedgie, run. Makes it more fun for both of us.”
Joey watched the little car careen down the road with more speed than driving skill and shook his head. How she hadn’t killed herself turning around to get out the gate, he didn’t know. Watching her spin the car around, taking two attempts to get it through the large gap, had been painful.
He lifted his head, checking out the road ahead of her. If he spotted so much as a dust cloud that could indicate another vehicle, he was so on the wing and after her. Yeah, she’d probably—make that definitely—scream and rail at him if he plucked her, car and all, right off the road, but he wasn’t taking chances with his mate’s life. No way, no how.
He watched the car until it became a speck in the distance then sighed and headed back inside. Then it hit him. The emptiness. He stood in the middle of the main room and looked around. Nothing had changed, not in here. All the furniture was arranged exactly as he remembered, down to the coaster on the table next to his grandpa’s favorite chair. Sadness hit him, making him hang his head, and he faced the chair as though its owner still sat there.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa. I should’ve been here.”
But he hadn’t. Somehow the weeks between visits had become months, the months, years. Small problems, then bigger problems and service to the twelve had consumed his life until he’d forgotten about the grandfather who’d all but brought him up.
He hadn’t even managed to make it to the funeral, thanks to the fucktard rogue who’d been more elusive than the Scarlet Pimpernel until Joey had finally run him to ground and dealt with him in the only way a rogue understood—brutal and bloody violence.
The needs of the one, in this case his need to be at his grandfather
’s funeral, had been outweighed by the needs of the many. The rogue would have killed if Joey hadn’t revoked his ability to breathe. Permanently.
He ignored the fact that he may have inadvertently quoted an old sci-fi show and walked over to stroke his fingers over the arm of the chair. The wood was worn smooth and the brief contact was enough for him to feel his grandpa’s presence wrap around him. He took a deep, shuddering breath and bowed his head, taking the fleeting feeling of comfort, but it faded all too quickly and he was left alone again in the empty farmhouse.
A farmhouse Grandpa had promised to Joey’s newly discovered mate to bring her…his kids up in. The ghost of a smile twisted Joey’s lips. He’d always assumed he’d meet his mate in the big city and they’d settle down there, in a penthouse somewhere to provide him the perfect launch point for flight. But Grandpa had always been on Joey to move back and settle down, and now it appeared he’d get his wish. Unless he could convince Katie the goth scene in Miami far surpassed the tiny one in the middle of North Carolina.
“Well played, old man. Well played.”
The sharp shrill of his cell broke the silence. With a sigh, Joey fished it out of his pocket.
“Kenton,” he said as soon as the phone was near his ear. “Whatcha got for me?”
By the time he ended the call, his face was drawn tight, and the expression that looked back at him from the mirror above the empty fireplace was not a happy one.
The council had found evidence that the rogue hadn’t been working alone.
Not. Alone.
“Fuck!” he snarled, fist clenching so hard that he felt a warning crack from his cell. Instantly he eased his grip. Without his cell out here, he was up shit creek without a paddle. Last time he checked, neither of the nearest towns was particularly technologically advanced, so getting a replacement to his preferred specification was unlikely. And a trip back into the city was likewise out of the question, especially with a potential second rogue on the loose. One that was apparently out for blood. His blood.
Dragon Her Feet Page 3