Southern Fried Dragon

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “In what way?”

  “You are a lady, though I seem to forget the obvious whenever I’m near your saucy mouth.”

  The need to be a lady in his eyes instantly morphed into desire when she gazed into his darkened eyes, now more black than gray.

  “Saucy?” Dru liked the sound of that. She licked her lips, tilted her head, and waited for more words of love.

  Love?

  More like romantic slobber, spoken by a man wanting to bed her. Not love her forever. She planned to hold out for forever. Forever, to a dragon, was a very long time. She sighed again and waited for him to make the next move. She didn’t have long to wait.

  Shaw groaned, and slid his hands up and down her waist and hips, stoking the fire burning in her veins, since she heard his voice echoing across the alley. Although she tasted smoke in her mouth, smoke she desperately held back, chills raced up her spine.

  Her unruly hands rose, circled his neck, and pulled him closer. Shaw nuzzled beneath her ear, but when his mouth found hers, bright lights exploded in her mind. When her desire flowed from her mouth to his, Dru nipped his bottom lip.

  Shaw groaned while his right hand strayed, cupping her breast. Dru’s toes tingled, and the private place between her legs moistened in anticipation. She’d never bedded a human male. A distant memory of a black dragon, who mounted her in flight, remained as her only foray into sex. Their rudimentary coupling ended before she knew what had hit her.

  Kissing Shaw was a priority. Craving Shaw’s muscular body between her human legs spearheaded a determination to have him. Here and now.

  “Here? No,” he said, yet his hands and mouth did not stray far.

  Blazes!

  She’d best stop voicing her thoughts around him, even though her future depended on acquiring a human’s love. She could not…no, she would not go back to her lonely existence as a dragon.

  They resumed kissing, because she was famished after a long week without tasting him on her tongue. The handsome lieutenant, his virility evident by the hard ridge nudging her abdomen, wanted her. She could read Shaw like a book, even though she’d never learned to read.

  “You can’t read? How can I send you love letters?”

  Her mouth had run away with itself again, and now she’d humiliated herself. Giving voice to her thoughts could prove dangerous. Maggie said the ability to read recipes was important if she wanted to better herself.

  Better myself? I’m a fearsome dragon!

  Dru shook off her vanity, and glanced up at the handsome man clinging to her like a barnacle. Was he handsome as humans go? A broad forehead, high cheekbones and square chin framed a long, straight nose and full kissable lips. Shaw’s skin held the tawny glow of someone who spent hours working in the sun. She’d seen the same on sailors, and dockworkers, but not on the aristocratic plantation owners who frequented the tavern.

  As December days shortened, she assumed his tan would fade. Too bad.

  “Too bad about what?”

  Blazes!

  She’d spoken aloud again? How could she talk with their mouths so close? Ignoring his question, she ran the tip of her tongue across his lips, urging them open, then plunged inside. Her tongue danced with his, eager to sip, taste, and indulge for hours.

  Hours? Maggie would be wondering where she’d run off to. The chicken for today’s patrons wouldn’t fry itself. Dru pulled away mere inches and waited until his eyes flickered open.

  “I must get back to work. If you’re still in town after my work is done, we can talk then.”

  “Talk?”

  His smile rolled over her like a dangerous current. How many human females had he devastated with a simple look, touch, or even a kiss?

  Dru had broken their kiss. With disappointment evident in his eyes, she had to push his hands away. He straightened, waiting for an explanation. A tall man, Shaw stood at least a head above her human form. His uniform could not disguise broad shoulders and a wide chest. His belt wrapped around a trim waist. Sea spray had dampened the lieutenant’s uniform, and his boots were scuffed and dirty. She chided her saucy female passion for a sudden wicked thought. How would he fit in her bed?

  “Very well, I pray,” she whispered.

  “What? You said we need to talk.”

  “Aye. Later.”

  * * * * *

  The woman acted daft. First she barely looked at him, and then she kissed him as if they were long-lost lovers. Guilt at his men’s rude remarks, bawdy actions, and laughter had made him hunt her down.

  To explain.

  To apologize.

  To kiss her, again.

  He’d done a stupid thing in sharing knowledge of their stolen kisses, but he had saved her from those hellions. She should be professing her thanks to all the world. He had done a heroic deed.

  He chuckled. A door slammed, and he stopped laughing. She had retreated, tossed aside his growing affections, and hid behind her battlements. He rubbed the evidence of his affections while contemplating how to get in her good graces. To do what?

  Toss her on a bed and slake his lust?

  Make her fall in love with him to stem the tide of loneliness that gripped him since his posting to Fort Moultrie?

  Love?

  Miss Little had kissed him quite spectacularly just now, and his body twitched to life beneath his breeches. Worse, the little Hellcat knew what effect her passionate kisses wrought.

  * * * * *

  Dru hurried through the empty kitchen. Poor Maggie must have gone to serve their few afternoon guests alone. Guilt quickened Dru’s steps, and she marched through the door into the tavern. Maggie gave her a curt nod, furthering the twisting in Dru’s stomach.

  The few stragglers had finished their meals and were leaving, much to her relief. She walked among the tables filled with shopkeepers, bankers, and a few of Charleston’s well-dressed gentry as they settled their bills. These men were unlike Shaw’s regiment of young soldiers and officers. These were men who owned slaves. Had they discussed secession? Would any of the well-fed, portly men take up arms against federal soldiers?

  When Lieutenant Stenhouse’s image rose, she brushed it away while mopping up tables, and gathering dirty tankards. If he showed up to talk, as she asked, so be it. If she never saw his face again…

  Blazes!

  CHAPTER 6

  The hours since Dru had spoken with Shaw passed too slowly. She never should have teased the man. Would he come back to talk, or would he kiss her into oblivion? Maybe he had decided that she was not worth the effort, and would never seek her out again. Dru rubbed a palm across the ache in her chest, and continued to work.

  After washing dirty luncheon plates and tankards, Dru wiped a soapy hand across her brow. The bubbles dripped down her nose, and she sneezed.

  “God bless you.”

  She squeaked, turned, and nearly dropped a plate.

  Shaw grasped the errant pottery and placed it on Maggie’s pastry table. Flour wafted up to sparkle in a shaft of afternoon light. The small window high above the alley door reminded her of their kisses in that same alley.

  More than once.

  “Ye gave me quite a fright,” she said, laughing at the humor crinkling his mouth. Blazes, what a mouth.

  “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. No one is in the dining hall.”

  “ ‘Tis fine, sir. A server’s duties are numerous.” Did he care she worked hard for a living? Back in Scotland, she ruled the skies. Beasts of all kinds trembled when she roared. Even sea creatures swam well below the surface when her shadow circled overhead.

  “As are a simple soldier’s duties.”

  “True, I suppose.” He worked for a living as well. She could tell by the muscles in his back, and the ruddy complexion that reminded her of Highlander’s of old. Even in the blustery northern isles of Scotland, men who lived, worked, and fought out of doors, turned golden even under a winter sun.

  “Miss Little, you asked me to return to talk. I must return to the skif
f in two hours.”

  Her face must have shown her disappointment. Dru wanted to talk to him, of course, but she also wanted to lose herself in his heated embrace. Maybe kiss him again. Talking could lead to more enjoyable pursuits. An idea popped into her head.

  “One moment.” She peeked inside the dining hall. No Maggie. Her employer’s shrill voice shouted at someone in the basement. “Follow me.”

  She grabbed his hand, pulled him through the empty kitchen, and up the back stairs. Dru shushed him when he protested. At the top of the second landing, she pushed him toward her tiny room. Shaw had to dip his head to miss slamming it on the door’s low lintel. Once in the room, he had to bend to miss bumping into the ceiling beams. He looked so out of place. And suddenly shy.

  Dru bolted the door and pressed two fingers against his lips. She unbuttoned his uniform jacket, slipped it from his shoulders, and laid it over the back of a chair. Her hands and fingers were acting without premeditation, but she knew where things headed.

  “Thirsty?” she asked, pointing to a pitcher.

  Shaw shook his head, removed his hat, and set it on the chair. When he ran his fingers through his dark hair, he inadvertently loosened his sailor’s queue. The braided piece of rope tumbled to the floor. A powerful urge to reach out and run her fingers through his dark brown locks frightened her.

  Slightly off-balance, Dru bent to pick up the bit of rope. When she rose, his manner had changed. Shaw clasped his hands into fists, and his chest rose and fell in rapidly growing breaths. Had he peeked down her dress?

  While he stared at her, she untied her apron and tossed it into the corner. She loosened her hair from the tightly coiled bun, and let it fall about her shoulders. A slight gasp echoed across the small room, and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  “Your hair shimmers like chocolate ringlets burnished with gold.”

  “Aye, the curls are the curse of growing up by the sea. The mist, ye know.” Dru sat on the foot of her bed and began to unbutton her bodice. His eyes focused on her busy fingers, while heat erupted beneath her cheeks. Her actions were bold, and her nerves made her stomach clench. Or, was her body anticipating something new and exciting?

  “You said we were here to talk.”

  “You can talk while I undress, aye?”

  “Undress?”

  “Aye. This dress is damp and smells of fried chicken.”

  “I like the smell of your southern fried chicken.” Shaw’s eyes widened as he spoke, but his gaze never left her fingers.

  “I cannot serve our guests attired so, and I must get back to the kitchen, ye see.”

  Shaw continued to stare as she slid each tiny button from its hole until her faded white shift peeked out. “I thanked ye for assisting me against those ruffians—”

  “We’ve been all over that.” He turned to pace, but bumped his head.

  She giggled as he rubbed the bruise, and waited until he’d returned his attention to her fingers and newly bared patch of human skin.

  “On a more recent note, I do not enjoy ridicule at the hands of soldiers. Your man grabbed me last week, as if I’d laid an invitation at his feet. Why did you tell?”

  Ruddy cheeks burned redder, proving he agreed he’d overstepped. Life as a serving girl was hard enough without having to fight off patrons. He did come between her and the sailors. A point in his favor. One minute longer and she’d have shredded them into bits of bloody meat.

  “I apologize. It’s the best I can do. I will not repeat it. Trust me?”

  His face spoke volumes, and his fists rose as if to impeach whatever deity in which he believed. How could she resist him another minute?

  Dru reveled in the realization that she was alone with the man who would make love to her, and share with her how humans mate. The thought made her knees tremble. She thanked the stars above that she had chosen to sit on the bed.

  Right here, right now seemed perfect.

  “I accept yer apology, young sir. Now…if ye undress yerself, we can enjoy each other that much quicker.”

  As if a cannon ball burst beneath his feet, Shaw shoved his suspenders off his shoulders. His hands plucked open several shirt buttons and she caught the smallest glimpse of curly, dark hair.

  Her gaze followed his fingers when they hovered at the buttons of his breeches. Dru’s mouth went dry as she stared at the enormous swelling beneath the coarse blue fabric.

  She licked her lips, and Shaw rewarded her with a guttural moan, but he kept his distance.

  Pity.

  Dru stood and shimmied and her dress fell to the floor. Gripping the hem of her shift, she slid it teasingly up her thighs. His eyes darkened and his stance widened as she uncovered inch upon inch of feminine flesh.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  She hesitated when the fabric skimmed the valley between her thighs. Dru sensed the dampness seeping beneath the springy hair between them. She stood before him, barely covered. She wiggled her eyebrows, but he wasn’t looking at her face. He didn’t notice her smirk.

  His attention had fastened on her secret place. Even in her shift, wool leggings, and doe-skin work slippers, she felt naked. Waiting for Shaw to make the next move tortured her hungry, trembling body.

  “Touch me,” Dru whispered, as the air with her scent. Could his human nose smell it? Was he blind to the way she licked her lips? Dru’s breasts grew heavy with want, as heavy as her leathery wings in an icy storm. Couldn’t he see how her nipples peeked through the sheer fabric?

  When Shaw’s gaze finally snapped to her chest, his sun-kissed cheeks reddened further. She smiled broadly, and he immediately pushed his breeches down around his ankles. He pounced like a cat rudely awakened from a dream-filled sleep.

  Flat on her back on her tiny bed, Dru whimpered with relief. The man was sane, after all.

  “My God, you are so hot.” Shaw nuzzled her neck while his hands, filled with her shift, slid up her hips, and past her breasts. Cool air caressed her, and she whimpered.

  “I do tend to run warmer than many. Is that not pleasing?” she said, teasingly. What would he say if smoke poured from her nose, or flames shot from her mouth?

  “You are so incredibly soft,” Shaw whispered as his mouth trailed sweet kisses down her neck until he reached a hard, sensitive nipple. Quivering with anticipation, Dru moaned.

  His tongue licked circles around the pebbled tip, and her body arched beneath him. A naked knee pressed against her inner thigh, widening the private place between her legs, then leaned into the bundle of nerves there, anxious and ready.

  “Are you humming?” he asked.

  Dru forced his head back down while she bit her lip to keep from singing with joy. Joy turned to anticipation. As a virgin in her human form, how would her body accept his prodding member?

  When his hand strayed lower, cupping her sex, she stifled a scream. Unplanned lovemaking, in the middle of the day, had risks. Dru knew little of the human mating act, but she had heard women scream, and men roar their pleasure.

  She certainly knew how to roar.

  Having only caught a quick peek at his arousal, what she’d seen had shocked her. She was a virgin, after all, though she’d spied on humans while she’d flown high above lovers frolicking in the shadows along the river. Several times, during these voyeuristic travels, Dru had glimpsed male erections before they plunged inside their partners. To her eyes, Shaw’s size appeared extraordinarily massive.

  “Ye will not fit, I fear.”

  He chuckled. “Fear not, for I will make ye ready, lass.”

  His words were meaningless to a dragon, but she trusted him. “Yum. Yer sounding like an excited Scotsman, again. You will not share what we do with yer fellow soldiers, will you?”

  “Never.” He shook his head, kissed her mouth again, then trailed kisses over her breasts and stomach. Arching her body, she wished he would keep kissing her like this forever.

  Shaw’s nearly naked body slipped down toward her toes
. He fell partly off the end of her little bed, but never stopped kissing bare flesh. Dru sucked in a breath. Her heart suddenly tripped inside her chest as pleasure made her dizzy.

  When his warm kisses stopped at the crux of her thighs, she stiffened. When his fingers explored the springy curls, Dru pushed up onto her elbows in surprise.

  What in blazes is he doing?

  Shaw slid all the way off the bed and onto his knees. The gentle thud, and his sly smile, made her nerves jump.

  “What are ye doing down there?”

  “Kissing you until you scream.” His strange answer gave her a moment of panic. If they were found out, she would lose everything.

  “I dare not scream. Come back and cover my mouth with yers, ye sly devil.”

  Shaw answered by pulling her until her legs dangled off the bed. Spreading her legs wide, he leaned forward, replaced his fingers with his mouth, and feathered kisses over her secret spot.

  “Oh, my!” she cried, when his thumb joined in and circled the little bump at the opening. Squirming did nothing to interrupt his intimate kisses. Falling back against her little feather pillow, she slapped a hand over her mouth, and let herself give in to the sensation.

  Soaring higher and higher, Dru’s resistance quickly faded. Shaw’s tongue delved deep inside, swirling and pulsing. A sharp intensity wound her sensitive nerve endings tighter and tighter. In a blaze of sparkling white light, she bit her palm, then flew as if she had conjured wings.

  As she floated back to earth, she realized humans knew delicious tricks. Intimate games dragons would never dreamed of, employing during the act of procreation.

  “Did you enjoy that, lass?” Shaw pulled himself to his feet, then slid his palms over her stomach. His bare chest, adorned with wispy, brown hair, glistened with sweat. His mouth and chin were wet with her juices. Her skin sizzled beneath his hands.

  His engorged manhood sat between her naked thighs, pointed skyward. Her womanly center tingled and yearned for more. He looked down at her prostrate form, and she sensed the blush that spread across her near nakedness. Giddy and yearning for more of his sweet, intimate kisses, she gazed up at him.