Dragon's Baby

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by Juniper Hart


  It wasn’t the first time Ross had brought up the possibility of Harley trying online dating. Harley had been adamant at first, but then he had decided to make a profile and see if anything happened, though he hadn’t told Ross about it just yet.

  Besides, Harley had always been more worried about getting a job than about finding a girlfriend. He wanted to secure a job interview in a larger city, hopefully securing the job itself in the process, and then he could browse through the profiles of available women in the area to see if he found a match.

  It had taken a few weeks, but his efforts had paid off: Harley had managed to land an interview with a naval architect firm in Houston, as well as a date with a girl named Missy.

  “Yeah,” Harley told Ross. “Maybe.”

  Ross simply rolled his eyes at him and continued waving his empty beer bottle around.

  Houston was bigger than Harley remembered, with more traffic than he thought humanly possible. To be sure he would be on time for his date, he left his hotel an hour and a half early. The taxi only took 45 minutes to get him to his destination: a skinny brick building with a black and white sign that simply said “Gastropub.” Inside was an oversized black granite bar full of people talking over each other, trying to order a drink. A handful of tables dotted the main floor.

  Harley was greeted by a hostess at the front of the pub smiling politely at him. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” Harley said. “I have a reservation.”

  “For one?”

  “Two, actually,” he answered, holding up two fingers. He gave the hostess his name, and after confirming his reservation, she led him to a small table for two. Harley tried to order some water to calm his nervousness—it had been quite a long time since he had been on a date, especially a first date—but all of the servers zipping by his table were careful not to make eye contact, as if they could pretend to be invisible.

  Soon enough, Harley had to grab the arm of one of the servers rushing by in order to catch his attention. “Excuse me, is there any way I can at least order a drink?”

  The server obviously attempted to hide a scowl, but it still came through.

  “I can get you a glass of water,” he said. “But this is not my section. You’ll have to wait until your server comes over to place an actual order.”

  The waiter wandered off and came back with a tall bottle of water. Harley didn’t pay him any attention as the man proceeded to pour the water into a glass—a woman who looked a lot like the one in Missy’s profile picture had just come in, and she was talking to the hostess. The hostess pointed in Harley’s direction, and he waved tentatively, signaling his table.

  Missy’s eyes widened when she saw him. She turned back to the hostess, shook her head, and then walked out of the building.

  Harley sighed to himself and looked down at his attire. Perhaps he should’ve worn another shirt. Maybe he should’ve covered his sleeve tattoo.

  “So,” the waiter said, and Harley broke out of his shocked stupor to look at him. “I assume you won’t need this table any longer, sir?”

  Harley slammed his hand down on the table and stood up, pushing his chair back. He was tired of being treated like an annoyance, and the waiter seemed to shrink under his glare.

  “I’ll just—” Harley took a deep breath, but the rest of his sentence still came out as a snarl. “I’ll have a seat at the bar.”

  He pushed his way through the rest of the customers waiting for a drink and sat down on one of the few empty stools. Before he could raise his hand to flag someone over, a glass was placed in front of him. Harley looked up to see a petite black-haired woman with blond highlights smiling at him.

  “It’s on the house,” she said.

  The sharpness in her blue eyes made Harley want to shiver. Luckily, instead of making a fool out of himself, he just raised his glass.

  “Thank you.”

  The woman winked at him and went to attend to her other customers.

  A few beers later, the crowd had thinned considerably. The stunningly beautiful bartender made her way back to Harley, wearing a cocky smile on her face that had Harley smiling back as soon as she approached him.

  “Ivy,” she said, tossing her hair back before she started to wipe down the counter.

  “Harley,” he said.

  Ivy glanced up at him, and the amusement in her voice was obvious when she spoke again. “You ride, then?”

  “Yeah,” Harley answered. “I’ve got one back home.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Harley.” Ivy continued wiping the counter. “Tell me, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

  Harley couldn’t help snorting. “A guy like me?” He felt like he was playing a game of cat and mouse, like Ivy wasn’t just making polite small talk. Something about her was captivating enough to make him take the bait.

  “Yeah,” Ivy said. “Undercut. Black-tee. Sleeve tattoo.”

  “Why? I don’t look scary, do I?” he asked, leaning his arms on the surface of the bar.

  Ivy looked him over and then let out a laugh. “No, you don’t look scary, at least not to me. Trey, on the other hand, looked like he was going to jump out of his skin when you got in his face.”

  “Trey?” It took Harley a second to figure out that Trey must be the server who brought him the water. “Oh,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “You saw that, huh?”

  “That’s what earned you the free beer,” Ivy told him, and he released a small sigh of relief. “Trey’s such an ass. He thinks he can talk to people that way because he’s head of the wait staff now. I was happy to see someone who wasn’t afraid to put him in his place.”

  “Ah.” Harley grinned widely enough to flash his canines. “I’m glad to hear that, then.”

  Ivy smirked at him.

  2

  Ivy stepped inside the elevator, Harley close behind her. As soon as he pressed the number of the floor they were going to and the doors closed in front of them, Ivy threw her arms around Harley’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

  She was delighted at Harley’s startled gasp. He soon kissed her back, cupping the side of her face as he pushed her against the wall of the elevator. Ivy separated her legs enough to let him press his body flush against hers, moaning into his mouth when she felt his erection through his pants.

  “I wish,” she panted, “that this goddamn elevator would—”

  A whirring sound cut her off. The elevator jiggled for a moment, ceased to move for a few seconds, and then began its way up again.

  “—hurry up,” Ivy finished with a chuckle, pushing her hair out of her face.

  Harley laughed. “Are you a witch?”

  Ivy flashed him a smile. “A werewolf, actually.”

  His smirk came as no surprise to her. She had seen him showing off his canines back at the bar, after all.

  “Good,” Harley said, pulling away from her and grabbing her hand as the elevator finally came to a stop, its doors opening on their floor. “That means I won’t have to hold back.”

  Ivy dragged Harley through the hall until they reached his hotel room. He took out his key card and touched it to the sensor, throwing the door open before Harley pulled her into his arms again. His mouth was hot and open against hers, causing a moan to slip out of her as he bit her bottom lip.

  Harley backed her up against the bed, and Ivy turned them around so that she could push him onto the mattress, climbing on top of him.

  “Take your shirt off,” she gasped, licking her lips in anticipation. “You know what; just take everything off.”

  Harley did as he was told, and when he started to take off his pants, Ivy pushed her own jeans off her legs. Before she could remove her underwear, Harley pressed his fingers to her panties, caressing her through the fabric. Ivy moaned and thrust her hips into the touch. She was already so wet, so desperate to have him, he didn’t have to tease her, but she still thrust into his hand. Harley’s other hand slid inside her shirt to fondle her
breasts, and Ivy couldn’t wait any longer.

  She pulled her shirt off and then her panties, straddling the man underneath her. Ivy bracketed his head with her hands and gasped as Harley began to rub his erection against her center. In one swift thrust, he slid inside her, and Ivy cried out in pleasure, her fingers curling into the sheets beneath them.

  Harley was hot and hard inside of her, and he filled her completely. His hands moved to her hips, following their rhythm as Ivy began to rock back and forth, her orgasm quickly creeping up on her. It didn’t take long for her to climax, with Harley doing so right afterwards, their pleasures combining together, their bodies shaking as they gasped for air.

  Harley lay still on the bed, staring at the ceiling. To say Ivy was an amazing lover was an understatement. At one point, he thought his life might flash before his eyes.

  He turned to the open door of the bathroom, where Ivy was taking a shower.

  “Hey!” she called out, yelling so that he could hear her through the sound of the running water. “You hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving! Want to go out?

  “Isn’t it a little late?” Harley replied, raising his voice to make sure she could hear him. “And I, uh, can’t really feel my legs, anyway!”

  Ivy laughed. “So, room service?”

  Harley frowned to himself. “In a place like this?”

  “Well, it’s not a total dive!” came Ivy’s response. “They had one of those little sundry shops at the front! We might be able to bribe someone to bring us microwave popcorn and cookies, at the very least!”

  Harley called the front desk and promised a thirty-dollar tip to whoever brought up the items from their mini grocery list. Of course, the staff raised the price when they pointed out there was no microwave in the room Harley and Ivy were staying at, so the popcorn would have to be made and then brought. In the end, they paid a total of sixty-five dollars for chips, cookies, popcorn, and two splits of lukewarm champagne.

  Ivy was sitting with her back against the headboard, eating chips. Harley lay beside her, and he was grateful she was nice enough to feed him.

  “Does this feel weird to you?”

  Harley frowned as Ivy put a chip on his nose. “What do you mean?”

  “Not in a bad way,” she said. “Just… sort of intimate, I guess. Like we’re poor newlyweds on our honeymoon.”

  “Oh.” He ate the snack on his face. Her comparison had been strangely specific. “Have you ever been married?”

  Ivy laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, God, no!”

  Harley snickered at her response. “Don’t believe in it, huh?”

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t believe in it,” she replied. “It’s just that it would have to be to the right person.”

  “That’s the entire point, isn’t it?” He looked up at her. “To find the mate you want to be with for the rest of your life.”

  Ivy blushed at his words, and she continued eating chips, remaining silent for a moment before she spoke again. “What about you?” she asked. “Have you ever been married? Engaged?”

  “No, thank God,” Harley sighed. “My ex—” He stopped short, glancing apologetically at Ivy. “Oh. Uh, sorry. This is, like, a date, right? I shouldn’t talk about stuff like that.”

  “Well.” Ivy put another chip on his nose. “It’s not like we’ve been having a conventional date so far,” she said, “so I guess we could break that rule. Besides, I’m sort of curious. What type of girl does a guy like you like?”

  Harley paused for a moment to think. He didn’t believe he had any specific type of girl, so he thought about what he’d liked in Chelsea, and what had captivated him about Ivy. “Wild. Strong. I guess you could say like an alpha, but not necessarily.”

  Ivy nodded her head. “Are you an alpha, then?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t mind a promotion someday.”

  She started to laugh, and it was so contagious that Harley laughed alongside her. Then Ivy leaned in and kissed him briefly.

  “We should drink this champagne before it gets any warmer.”

  When Harley woke up the next morning, a haze of grey light had begun to fill the room. The first thing he noticed was that Ivy wasn’t next to him on the bed. He walked around the small, quiet room until he confirmed what he already knew: Ivy was gone.

  On the nightstand, she had left him a note:

  It was fun. XOXO – Ivy

  At the bottom, almost as if it had been an afterthought, Ivy had scribbled her phone number. Harley gathered his things and prepared to go back to his hotel room. He still had a job interview to get to.

  Ross stared at him across the table, his eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You found another hellcat?”

  “She’s not a hellcat,” Harley said, rolling his eyes. “She’s the same as us. A shifter.”

  “Man, you already tried dating another werewolf,” Ross replied. “And it didn’t exactly work out, remember?”

  Of course Harley remembered, he had been the one dating her. “This is different. She’s different.”

  “You’re thinking with your dick.” Ross tossed a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

  “It’s not just the sex,” Harley snapped, and Ross sighed in frustration. “I’m serious, Ross! She’s funny, she’s charismatic, she’s down to earth, she’s…” He shrugged his shoulders. “She’s just… incredible.”

  Ross crossed his arms over his chest. “And you got all of this just by banging her.”

  “No!” Harley glared at him. “We ordered room service and stayed up half the night talking.” God, even remembering Ivy sitting down next to him, eating chips and then putting more chips on his face, made him want to smile.

  “Like a couple of high school girls, I bet,” said Ross, and Harley’s glare deepened. “Well, since you’re already so in love, you must have a picture, right? Let me see her.”

  Harley hesitated, but he knew Ross wouldn’t stop pestering him about it until he obliged. He pulled out his phone, swiped through his pictures, and then handed the device to Ross.

  Ross was speechless for a moment, his eyes widening and his expression growing serious. “This is the girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.” Ross handed the phone back. “Not her.”

  Harley felt strangely defensive. “Come on, we were making dumb faces on purpose,” he said. “I mean, yeah, we might have drunk a bit too much—”

  “Her name is Ivy, right?” He stopped at the sound of Ross’ voice: for once, it was somber, all amusement and teasing gone.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Dude, are you serious? That’s Ivy Belyakova!” Ross exclaimed. The last name sounded familiar to Harley, but he couldn’t place it. Before he could ask what Ross’ point was, his friend continued. “She’s one of the White Rabbits!”

  Harley felt like he was falling, like he’d been standing on a rug and it had been pulled from under his feet. The White Rabbits were one of the most dangerous ‘fast cash’ groups in Houston. They could get ridiculous sums of money into anyone’s hands overnight, but always for a certain price. For as long as Harley could remember, and since many generations before, his pack, the Arcos, had had a long-standing feud with the White Rabbits.

  “You’re wrong,” Harley muttered.

  “Wrong?” Ross laughed drily. “She’s their goddamn little princess! The fact you got her to a hotel room and lived to tell the story is pretty amazing. You cheated death, my friend.”

  His friend’s words were hard to ignore. Harley had been staring at Ivy’s note practically since he’d first seen it, thinking about contacting her again as soon as he could. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if Ross was right? What if this was part of a larger scheme to bait him and other members of his pack into a vulnerable position? Sure, he wasn’t the alpha, but killing a handful of prominent betas would certainly send out the message that the feud was alive and well.

  Harley supposed there was only way to find out.

/>   3

  The first thing Ivy did when her break started was go to the back of the building and check her phone.

  Still no messages.

  I should’ve asked for his number, Ivy thought, pacing back and forth. Harley hadn’t called her, hadn’t messaged her—hell, he hadn’t even sent the ridiculous pictures they had taken together!

  Not being able to contact him was making her anxious.

  She was excited about the possibility of building something new with Harley. The way he’d looked at her that night made her feel like it could happen, like it hadn’t just been her imagination.

  Ivy jumped when her phone vibrated in her hand, and she glanced hopefully at the screen before immediately glaring at the name she saw.

  Larkin.

  Against her better judgment, Ivy answered.

  “What?” she snapped. “What do you want? I’m at work.”

  “Bunny,” said Larkin, his voice upbeat. “Why so hostile?”

  Ivy shuddered uncomfortably. “Don’t call me that. We aren’t dating anymore.”

  “Don’t be stubborn, Bunny,” Larkin said. “You know it makes me happy to think of you as my pet.”

  The little laugh in his voice was enough to make Ivy’s skin crawl with disgust.

  She had first met Larkin when she was fourteen. He had joined the pack as a roaming beta teenager himself, four years her senior. He was quiet and mostly kept to himself. Ivy didn’t have any particular interest in him; she was the daughter of the reigning alpha, and Larkin was just lucky to be alive.

  But then Larkin had laughed at one of her jokes, loudly and openly guffawing. Ivy had been used to polite laughter and the doting of the men in her family—after all, she was their princess. But genuine laughter, that was unique. It might have been the moment she began to fall in love.

  Showing Larkin favor brought him to the attention of important pack members. Before long, the boy had his own work and clients to “keep track of.” He enjoyed it and was good at it; perhaps a little too good. It didn’t matter to Ivy. When she was with Larkin, she felt in on the joke, special, above everyone else in a way she’d never felt before.

 

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