Hungry Like A Dragon: A Bad Alpha Dads Romance

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Hungry Like A Dragon: A Bad Alpha Dads Romance Page 8

by Tami Lund

A family, his dragon whispered slyly.

  Chill, dude.

  You just called me dude.

  “Your dragon talking to you?” Delilah asked. “Mine does that a lot too.”

  Petra gave him a curious look. He said, “Yeah. He’s telling me you can come through for us. Come on. Our entire colony will be jealous if we bring home a book of curses or something.”

  “A book of curses is a very dangerous item. Most dragons cannot enact them, of course, but it isn’t entirely unheard of. I would not feel comfortable selling you something so potentially hazardous.”

  “Not entirely unheard of?” Petra repeated.

  Delilah arched her narrow, black brows. “You haven’t heard of the cursed dragon colony?”

  Holy shit, is she about to admit she did it?

  “Nope,” Noah said.

  Delilah’s smile was toothy and a little bit anticipatory. The woman was practically vibrating.

  “Up north.” She flapped her hand. “There is an entire colony that has been cursed for decades. Not a single dragon is able to find their fated mate.”

  “What?” Petra said in horror. “That’s terrible!”

  “Is it?” Delilah asked.

  “Well, yes,” Petra sputtered. “Wh-who wouldn’t want to-to find true love?”

  You and I, honey.

  Delilah waved her hand again. “True love is a waste of time.”

  “Tell us more about this curse,” Noah encouraged.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “That’s it. The colony is cursed. And generally, because dragons are pretty stupid when it comes to magic beyond shifting forms, they haven’t been able to figure out how to lift it. So no true love for them.”

  Dragons are pretty stupid? Wow, this lady was derisive about her own kind.

  “Well, I guess that means you’re safe selling us a book of curses,” Noah said.

  Delilah shook her head. “Not an entire book. And not curses. How about a love potion?”

  He glanced at Petra. “What’s the point? We don’t need that. We’re already in love.” That sure slid off his tongue easily enough, didn’t it?

  Delilah lowered her lashes and peeked out at him. “You said you wanted something to add to your hoard, remember?”

  “Right. Of course.” He turned to Petra. “What do you think, babe?”

  Her gaze darted from him to Delilah. “I suppose if that’s the best you can do…”

  “It is,” Delilah said firmly. “Now go. Come back at ten tonight. The shop will be closed. Go through the alley to the back door. I’ll meet you there.” And she dismissed them, striding across the shop, back to the curio cabinet.

  “She didn’t tell us how much she’d charge us,” Petra said as she watched the other woman’s retreating back.

  “Come on,” Noah said, nudging her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

  When they were three storefronts away, he stopped the stroller and moved it closer to the brick wall, out of the way of passing pedestrians.

  “Why are we stopping?” Petra asked.

  “I want one of those little dragons.”

  “If you go back, she might get suspicious. She really didn’t want us to know anything about them.”

  “I know.”

  He reached out and grabbed the arm of a kid—a dragon—who had his hands stuffed into his front pockets.

  “Hey,” the kid protested.

  “I want one of those little dragons you just bought,” Noah said.

  The kid instantly bristled. “I didn’t buy nothing.”

  Noah sighed. “It’s anything, and I just saw you come out of that shop. No dragon your age would go in there for anything other than those little figurines.”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “How much did you pay for it?” Noah asked, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and spreading the pieces of leather so the kid could see the cash in there.

  As predicted, the young man’s eyes widened. “Twenty bucks each.”

  Noah pulled out two twenties. “Here’s forty. Give me one you bought and go get yourself two more.”

  The kid reached for the money but Noah jerked it away. After a moment’s hesitation, the younger man dug in his front pocket and extracted a small glass dragon figurine. He handed it to Noah, who slapped the money into his palm, and the kid took off at a jog. Noah stuffed the dragon into his own pocket, grabbed the handle of the stroller, and started walking down the sidewalk with Petra at his side.

  “Let’s go home and figure out what’s so special about these little dragons.”

  Chapter 7

  Petra texted Rebecca to ask if she could watch Sadie tonight, while Noah lay on the floor in the living room and played with the baby. The glass dragon was perched on the coffee table.

  In an attempt to distract herself from the way her heart fluttered at the total adorableness occurring on her rug, Petra swept up the figurine and lifted it to eye level. It was made of blown glass, dyed red, with horns and wings and a clubbed tail. Pretty, certainly, but valuable to a dragon? To the influx of dragons they’d observed buying the little trinkets?

  Petra didn’t see it.

  She turned it over, looking for an inscription, an artist’s stamp, anything, but there was nothing. It looked like something she’d hang on their Christmas tree. Placing the ornament on the kitchen counter, she dismissed it in favor of the other, far more important bit of information they’d gleaned today.

  Delilah was, in fact, Dahlia, Gabe’s mother. She was certain of it. And tonight, they were going to confront her about the curse, convince her to lift it, and then Petra could go home.

  And she and Noah could figure out how they were going to go about raising Sadie, together yet separately. Her heart was heavy and her dragon was displeased with the notion, but really, their little affair should probably stop once they went back home. As soon as they found out she had a baby, her family was going to pressure her into mating with Noah. And since that was never going to happen, it would be best to cut ties with him, other than whatever was necessary to take care of Sadie.

  Her phone buzzed. A text from Rebecca. “She says she’ll be here at 9:45 to watch Sadie,” she said to Noah.

  “Good. I’d rather not take her out that late, plus, I don’t trust Delilah or Dahlia or whatever her name is. It’s bad enough you’re going.”

  “You are not about to go all alpha male on me, are you?”

  “Nope. Just expressing my thoughts.”

  She wandered over and dropped onto the couch. “She’s definitely quirky, but I don’t think she’s dangerous. She would have done something way worse than a fated mate curse if she were, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. But I do know that those dragon trinkets still bother me.”

  Petra waved her hand in the general direction of the kitchen. “Like her associate said, it’s a local Pokémon fad or something.”

  Sadie yawned and rubbed her eye. Noah scooped her into his arms and stood. “I think she’s ready for a nap.”

  “Here, I’ll feed her and put her down.”

  Half an hour later, she returned to the living room to find Noah lying on the couch, his head resting on a pillow, his knees bent, his feet resting on the arm, as he flipped through a cookbook they’d purchased on their way home from the antiques store visit.

  He looks yummy.

  She chuckled. Noah lowered the book and cocked his brow. “What?”

  She moved closer. “My dragon thinks you look yummy.”

  “Oh yeah?” He closed the book and tossed it onto the coffee table, then he reached for her. She took his hand, allowed him to pull her toward the couch, where she straddled him before lowering her face for a kiss.

  He wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tightly for a few seconds, before his hands began to roam south until he cupped her ass, grinding her into his erection.

  She nipped at his bottom lip. “I’m in the mood for a little after
noon delight.”

  He lifted one hand and grasped her chin, staring into her eyes as he said, “I’m in the mood for you.”

  Damn, the man knew how to rev her engine. She growled, impatiently pulling at his shirt until he flipped it over his head and tossed it over the back of the couch. When she reached for his belt buckle, he covered her hands with his own. “We need a condom.”

  “Right.” She scrambled off his lap and hurried down the hall to the bedroom, returning a moment later with a square, foil packet in her hand.

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now come here so I can reward you.”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  She moved toward him, but he lifted his hand. “Wait. Stop.”

  She froze. “What?”

  “Strip for me first.”

  She shook her head. “N-no.”

  “Please.”

  Oh hell. When he said it like that…

  The outfit she’d chosen today was a basic, stretchy T-shirt dress with a wide, scoop neck that made it easy to feed Sadie. So it was pretty much effortless to grab the hem and lift it over her head. Underneath she wore a simple white bra and lacy panties. Not terribly sexy by her standards, but the way Noah’s eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly, she’d obviously done something right.

  Smiling, she thrust out her chest while wrapping her arms around her back and unhooking her bra. Then she held it in place over her boobs with one hand while slipping the straps down her arms with the other. When she pulled her arm away, the bra went with it, and she tossed it at Noah. He snatched it out of the air without taking his gaze off her.

  Damn, her man was intense.

  No, not her man. Her—what was he? Lover? That sounded too serious, too much like a relationship.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, breaking through her thoughts.

  She cleared her throat and realized she’d paused mid-strip. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m just—not—this…I’m self-conscious,” she finally blurted.

  “You have no reason to be. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  Her knees wobbled.

  “Come here.” He beckoned her. She stumbled forward and practically fell on top of him. He grabbed her waist and situated her in his lap with her legs folded on either side of his thighs. Lifting her slightly, he gently pushed her down so that her seam slid along the length of his erection.

  She whimpered.

  “Want more?”

  She nodded and started to pant. He did it again, and she threw her head back while clutching his shoulders.

  Suddenly she was moving, and when she opened her eyes, she was seated on the cushion next to him. After delivering a quick kiss to her lips, he bent and feathered his lips along the tops of her breasts, then down into her cleavage, all while working her panties down her legs.

  Once she was panty-less, he bounced off the couch to finish unbuckling his belt and slide his shorts off. When he, too, was naked, he sat and pulled her into his lap. With his hands on her waist and his gaze on her face, he began rocking, sliding her up and down his erection again, her arousal coating them both, until she moaned, the pressure—the pleasure—building inside her.

  “Touch yourself,” he commanded, and then he stopped the motion, grabbed the condom, and sheathed himself. She immediately complied, desperate to keep the momentum going. Her body was twisting tighter and tighter; she was so close to orgasming she could practically taste it on her tongue.

  And then he clamped onto her waist again, lifted her, and pulled her down onto his erection. She squeezed her eyes shut as the climax slammed into her, going on and on as he surged in and out, in and out, until he clenched his teeth and growled as he chased her over the edge.

  With a gusty sigh, she flopped onto his chest and closed her eyes again, and scant moments later, she was asleep.

  ***

  When Petra woke, the house was bathed in shadows. She was lying on top of Noah, who was on his back, snoring gently, his legs hanging over the arm of the couch, his arms wrapped around her. Like he had no intention of letting her go.

  Such fanciful thoughts.

  She fumbled around on the coffee table until her fingers grazed one of their phones, and she lit the screen. Seven-thirty. Wow, they’d all slept the afternoon away. Not surprising for Noah and Petra, considering they’d spent far more time last night having acrobatic sex instead of sleeping, and not really shocking for Sadie, either, who’d had a great deal of tummy time with her daddy today.

  Smiling, Petra gently extracted herself from the tangle of limbs on the couch, grabbed her dress off the floor, and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. The sun hadn’t quite gone down, so it was still bright enough for her to see what she was doing without turning on the light, which would shine in Noah’s eyes.

  She pulled a glass out of the cabinet and placed it on the counter. The cup bumped something and knocked it over.

  A shattering sound.

  The dragon figurine.

  Petra looked down at the countertop. The head had snapped off the glass object, and something protruded from the neck. It looked like a perfume vial, like the samplers hawked in department stores.

  Petra tugged the vial free of the broken knickknack and lifted it to eye level while turning toward the weak light streaming through the nearby window. Thick, red liquid rolled around inside the tiny tube.

  What the hell?

  Wait.

  Dragon’s blood.

  The Rojo dragons had a reputation. They’d created the synthetic drug—a combination of human-made drugs and actual dragon blood—and now half their colony, not to mention a fair number of humans, were addicted to the stuff.

  And—what? Gabe’s mother was a dealer?

  Petra twisted off the top and touched the tip of her finger to the substance, placed it on her tongue. The adrenaline zing shooting through her bloodstream confirmed her fear.

  Definitely dragon’s blood.

  Holy shit. This was way worse than she imagined. Gabe, too. Whatever his feelings for her, he would not have sent her down here alone if he’d suspected his mother was a drug pusher.

  And she and Noah were scheduled to meet with the woman, tonight, at ten o’clock. Highly unconventional hour for an antiques dealer.

  She glanced down at her phone. Should she reach out to Gabe? He could put a few dragons on a plane, and they’d be here in five or six hours, max. The meeting was in less than three, but at least they’d know where to start looking if something happened to her and Noah.

  But she couldn’t call. It would only confirm that she was a failure.

  She had to do this without his help. She had to prove herself.

  She glanced over her shoulder into the living room. The sounds of light snoring told her Noah was still asleep. Good. She couldn’t tell him, either. From the brief glimpses she’d seen of his overprotective nature, she knew damn well he’d call Gabe, too, if he knew what they were really dealing with.

  She extracted the vial of dragon’s blood from the broken figurine and used the sponge from the sink to sweep the bits of glass into the trash.

  There. Done.

  “Hey.”

  She let out a startled shriek when she heard Noah’s voice behind her. He flipped on the light and she jerked around to face him, the vial squeezed in her palm, which she hid behind her back. He gave her a quizzical look. “Did I startle you?”

  She let out a long breath. “Yes. I thought you were still sleeping.”

  He stretched, and she took a moment to admire the sharp plains and crevices in his rather spectacular stomach and chest. He’d pulled on his shorts but hadn’t bothered with a shirt, much to her visual pleasure. Then he poured himself a glass of water, and Petra held her breath, waiting for him to ask about the miniature dragon or the arm she held behind her back.

  But all he did was turn around and lean against the counter while he drained the glass.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “Want me to whip up somet
hing before we leave?”

  “Um, not really.” If she’d had an appetite, she’d lost it the moment she comprehended what all those young dragons were purchasing from Delilah’s antique shop.

  “Well, I’m starved. I’ll just make myself a couple sandwiches then.”

  Sadie let out a wail as he reached for the fridge. “I’ll get her,” he said. “I’ll change her diaper and bring her in here so you can feed her.”

  “Thanks.” She sank against the wall briefly then rushed to the living room and dropped the vial into her purse, practically running back to the kitchen when she heard his footsteps in the hall.

  “You all right?” he asked when he handed her the baby. “You seem jumpy.”

  She sat down at the table and latched Sadie onto her breast. “Just nervous about tonight, I guess.”

  “Me too,” he said, with his head in the fridge, while he piled sandwich fixins onto the counter. “I kind of want to give Gabe a head’s up.”

  “No!” Whoa, she probably shouldn’t have shouted that.

  He raised his head to peer at her over the top of the door.

  “Sorry. That was a little aggressive.”

  “Yeah, it sure was.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “It’s just—I want to fix this on our own, okay?”

  He straightened and closed the fridge. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”

  Not really. She dropped her gaze to the floor. When she looked up, he was still standing there, watching her.

  “Um…I need to prove myself. To Talia.”

  “Why do you think you need to do that?”

  Her chest tightened like a vise. Finding Jasmine’s crumpled body, carrying her to Gabe’s mansion, begging Talia to forgive her—the memories were still so potent, it felt as though it all happened yesterday instead of more than a year ago. Blinking back tears, she said, “I screwed up. Bad. I need to prove to her that I’m worthy of her friendship.”

  He walked over and dropped to his knees in front of her. Pressing his hands to the tops of her thighs, he said, “Baby, everybody screws up. We’re dragons. None of us are perfect. You’re worried for nothing. Talia doesn’t hate you. I suspect she’s looking forward to you coming home so you two can hang out again.”

 

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