by Zoe Chant
“Taste me,” Raluca murmured.
With her free hand, she lifted his, still wet with her juices, and pushed one of his fingertips into his mouth. He tasted the tang of metal and the sweetness of a woman on his own rough finger, just as she slid her hand all the way along the length of his cock.
Nick came so hard, he thought for a second that he was going to black out. It was a release like he’d never felt before, shaking him body and soul. Raluca’s hot fingers slid back down as he spurted again and again, spilling himself into her hand.
When it finally ended, he found that he too had relaxed so completely that he’d have slid to the floor if someone hadn’t held him up. He’d collapsed against Raluca’s chest, his face buried in her smooth, cool, heavy hair. She was holding him up with one arm.
Dragon strength, he thought dizzily. Some delicate princess...
The scent of sex and of her hung around them. He straightened and took his own weight, glancing down. She followed his gaze. The glow of contentment faded a little from her face as she looked at her damp thighs, at the skirts Nick was still holding up, and at the white ribbons of his come on her hand.
“Do you have a handkerchief?” she asked. “I left mine in Vienna.”
“Sorry, baby.” Nick barely stopped himself from admitting that he’d never owned one.
Then he spotted the napkins on the cocktail tray. With his free hand, he picked one up. She pulled off her panties and tossed them into a tiny trash bin. He wiped her hand dry, then took another napkin to more gently clean the rest of her. Finally, he wiped his own hands off.
Raluca surveyed their hasty clean-up, then dipped the remaining napkins in one of the cocktails and did what Nick had to admit was a more thorough job on both of them. Then they tossed the napkins in the trash to follow the panties and hopefully hide them. Or not. It wasn’t like either of them was likely to come back.
Raluca finished by emptying the remains of the cocktail into the bin. The sharpness of alcohol killed the scent of sex for anyone but a shifter. But Nick could sure as hell still smell it. He hastily put down Raluca’s skirts, then pulled up his boxers and jeans, zipped up, and dropped down his jacket. Just in time, too. He was starting to get hard again.
“I hope this room was soundproof,” Raluca said.
“Did you talk to the saleswoman while you were in here?” Nick asked.
“I did. We had quite a long discussion about what dress and shoes I should wear out of here.”
“Then we’re fine,” Nick said. “I was right outside the door, with werewolf senses, and I couldn’t hear you.”
Raluca gave a sigh of relief. But Nick, replaying the conversation in his mind, frowned. “Wait, did you say you were going to wear something from here? Now?”
“Yes.” Raluca lifted a clothes hanger from the rack, then indicated a pair of shoes.
The outfit she’d selected looked like a little black dress at first glance, but when Nick looked closer, he saw that it was covered in intricate black embroidery. The shoes had heels so high that Raluca would seem taller than him, and were polished black except for startling, bright red toes.
Put together, the outfit probably cost more than Nick had earned in his entire life to date. It would be stunning on Raluca. For a moment he was stuck on the image of her in that little black dress. Between the high heels and short skirt, her legs would seem to go on forever. And it would be so easy to reach up that skirt...
Then he forced himself to shake his head. “Nope. You have to change back into Fiona’s workout gear. Her shoes, too.”
“Why?”
“Because we have at least one more shopping stop, you can’t wear a bulletproof jacket over that dress, and you can’t run in heels.”
“But you said it was impossible for me to wear a jacket at all times,” she protested. “What is the point of buying clothing I can’t wear?”
“You can wear it,” Nick said. “Just not right now. Like, the nightclub — Destiny or I will check it first, and it’ll have guards at the door. Or the parties. We’re talking about fancy shit with royalty and diplomats and politicians, right? So they’ll have their own security. But Destiny’s favorite shop for buying dance clothes won’t have any security but me. Just have the dresses and shoes packed, okay?”
“Packed?” Raluca sounded as shocked and appalled as when he’d mentioned birth control. “No, they’ll be delivered to the hotel.”
“The fuck they will!” Horrified, Nick said, “Did you tell the saleswoman which hotel you’re going to stay at?”
“Yes, of course...” Raluca’s voice trailed off as Nick saw her realize her mistake. “Oh, but surely an employee of Santa Martina’s best haute couture shop would not betray me. And I used a false identity.”
“What the fuck does working at a fancy shop have to do with being trustworthy?” Nick demanded, though he knew the answer: if you’re a rich snob, then you figured even anyone working for a rich snob had to be okay. “And even if she is, once you told her, you also told everyone she talked to, their delivery guy, and anyone who can hack into the store’s computer. As for the fake ID, you’re only the most recognizable person in the universe.”
Nick’s heart accelerated as he spoke; assassins could already be on their way. “Fuck! What were you thinking?”
Raluca’s eyes narrowed and cooled until they looked like slivers of gray ice. Haughtily, she said, “Unlike you, I am not trained in professional security. Nor am I accustomed to running for my life. Nor am I telepathic. If you wish me to do or not do something, you must inform me of it.”
Her tone got up his nose, but she had a point. He couldn’t assume that she knew anything security-related. “Fine. From now on, don’t tell anyone who’s not on my team where you’re staying or where you’re going. I’ll find you a new hotel. The clothes can be delivered to... Wait, why are the clothes even being delivered? I have room in my trunk.”
Raluca stared at him like he was out of his mind. “They are on hangers. They must be transported either on a clothing rack, or in packed flat in tissue paper. You couldn’t fit a single dress into your trunk either way.” Grudgingly, she added, “We could take the shoes in boxes.”
“Oh, yeah, shoes in boxes, that’ll fix everything.” He let out a groan, then conceded, “Fine. I’ll hit up someone on the team to rent a van, pick them up, and bring them to the hotel. What a fucking pain in the ass.”
Icily, Raluca replied, “I am so sorry to make you work at your job.”
An uncomfortable silence fell. Nick was sure she was regretting the hell out of the sex. Worse, so was he. Her crack about his job had hit home.
She was so naïve that she didn’t even know not to give her address to some random salesperson, and he’d been so overcome with desire that he’d completely dropped his guard. When she’d grabbed his cock in her bare hand, he wouldn’t have noticed a hundred ninjas dropping from the ceiling. If anyone had attacked her while they were having sex, they’d probably both have been killed.
The recollection of Raluca coming against his hand flashed through his mind and body, making him instantly rock-hard again. If he’d only had a condom in his wallet, maybe he could have felt her come with him inside her, too.
But now he never would. He didn’t know who he was more pissed at, himself or the fate that had brought them together once and once only, just to taunt him with what he could never have again.
“We can never have sex again,” Nick said.
Chapter Three
Raluca
Raluca had already decided that if Nick didn’t say they could never have sex again, she would have to. All the same, hearing it from him hurt like a drop — no, like a bucket — of dragonsbane in the face.
For only the second time in her life, she’d followed her heart rather than her head, doing something wild and outrageous and absolutely unbefitting a dragon princess, because it was what she’d wanted to do. And for the second time, it had been a complete disaster.
>
Nick — supposedly her mate, the person who ought to love her unconditionally and forever — hated her. They’d had incredible, earth-shattering sex exactly once, and only minutes later he was scornfully pointing out her utter foolishness and ignorance, then vowing to never touch her again.
Or maybe it was only incredible and earth-shattering for me, Raluca thought gloomily. He couldn’t have faked his actual climax, but maybe for him, it was only an average sexual encounter. Or even below average.
After all, there had been no penetration, and she knew how important that was to men. In her admittedly limited previous sexual experience, men stuck it in as soon as they got their clothes off and didn’t bother with anything else.
She drew upon all her years of training to sound and look unconcerned and unbothered as she said, “I was about to say the same thing.”
Something flickered in his emerald eyes that reminded her of the eyes of the wolf in the photo at Protection, Inc. Could he too have regrets? Then it vanished, leaving only the anger he seemed to carry with him like a sword. His tense shoulders lowered like he was forcing them down.
“Right,” Nick said. “It was a mistake, that’s all. It’s my job to protect you. And from now on, that’s all I’m going to do.”
Another awkward silence fell. This time they spoke simultaneously.
“I should prefer that you not mention —” Raluca began.
“If you tell my teammates, they’ll never let it go, so —” Nick started.
They both broke off, then Raluca gave a cool nod. Keeping her voice even, she said, “We are on the same page. Excellent. As far as we are both concerned, for both others and ourselves, this never happened. We shall not mention it, and we shall not repeat it. Now please leave the dressing room. I need to change.”
Nick walked out without a word. The door closed behind him with a very final-sounding click.
Cursing herself for her foolishness, Raluca put on the shirt and pants and shoes that didn’t quite fit, and the heavy, awkward jacket that never let her forget that someone was trying to kill her. Then she made herself emerge to face Nick.
To her relief, he seemed to have already spoken to the salespeople. One hurried to fetch the clothes on the rack, and another loaded the shoe boxes into the trunk of Nick’s car.
He beckoned her into the passenger seat, waited with visible impatience for her to put on her seatbelt, then stomped on the accelerator. The car darted into heavy traffic, but he avoided a collision while leaving a trail of honks and angry yells behind them. Raluca resigned herself to his driving. He was the bodyguard, and she had never learned how to drive at all. She’d always had a chauffeur when she’d been a princess, and later she’d used taxis.
Nick brought the car to a smooth if somewhat sudden stop in front of a distinctly less fancy shop.
“Destiny’s nightclub place,” he explained.
“Thank you.” She reached for the car door, but he was already out of the car and opening it before her fingers could close around the handle. Then he gave a quick glance around that included inside the shop, then held that door open for her too.
He moved quickly and with grace, she couldn’t help noticing. Like his wolf, perhaps. Beautiful...
Competent, she corrected herself. As Hal promised.
Raluca looked around the shop with interest once she was inside. She had observed such places before, but never gone inside. It had clothes that she’d seen but never worn, some on mannequins but most crowded onto racks: leather corsets, skirts that glittered with sequins rather than jewels, tank tops with designs that were printed instead of embroidered. Not quite a peasant shop, but certainly not a billionaire’s shop, either.
She waited, but no one moved to greet her. The salespeople were eyeing her and Nick with suspicion, not pleasure. Raluca looked at how the employees were clothed, then at herself and Nick, and guessed that he was still under-dressed, while her jewels made her over-dressed. And also, that perhaps she was meant to select her own clothing rather than have it brought to her.
Raluca wasn’t going to be intimidated by a bunch of commoners, but neither did she intend to linger long where she wasn’t wanted. Holding her back straight and her chin high, she quickly gathered clothes, thinking of what might taunt Nick with the body he’d sworn to never touch again.
Soon she had more than she could easily carry, but no one offered to help. In fact, they seemed to be pretending not to see her, while watching Nick as if he might steal something. She opened her mouth to reprove them just as Nick made a grab for her armful of clothes.
“Here, I’ll take those,” he said.
Raluca felt in every inch of her body what would happen if she let Nick into the dressing room with her and then closed the door. He might dislike her, but their chemistry was undeniable. She could feel it even now. But she couldn’t give in to it. If there was anything more foolish than having sex in a dressing room with a tattooed criminal werewolf who didn’t even like her, it was doing it twice.
She jerked away. “You are not accompanying me while I change.”
“Fine.” Raising his voice, he demanded of the room at large, “Are you all on a fucking lunch break? Get the lady some help!”
A salesperson came over. He wasn’t especially friendly, but he did help Raluca take her selections into the changing room. She closed the door on them both, discarded the clothes that didn’t fit, and from the remainders, selected an outfit that would horrify Uncle Constantine, shock everyone who had ever known her as a princess, and, she hoped, make Nick regret his entire existence.
Holding everything so Nick couldn’t see it, Raluca marched to the counter, paid for her selections, and carried them away in the bags she was given.
“No hangers?” Nick inquired.
“Not necessary.” After a moment, Raluca admitted, “I hope. I have not worn clothes like this before.”
As they climbed into the car, her stomach rumbled audibly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She first hoped Nick hadn’t heard, then remembered his werewolf senses.
“Please take me to my hotel,” she said, hoping to pre-empt any rude comment. And also that he’d made a new reservation at some point while she’d been in a dressing room.
“Sure,” Nick said easily. “But let’s have dinner first.”
Without giving her the chance to object, he skidded through traffic, whipped down several narrow alleys, and finally pulled up at a bizarre building. Once again, he was out of his door and holding hers open for her before she could say anything, leaving her with no graceful alternative but to get out.
She stepped out of the car and stared incredulously upward. “What is that?”
Nick stated the obvious. “It’s a building with a giant fake hotdog wrapped in giant fake bacon on the roof.”
“And why does the building have a giant fake hotdog wrapped in giant fake bacon on the roof?”
“Because this is Big Bacon.” Grinning, Nick beckoned her to the order window, which overlooked the sidewalk. “You said you wanted to do American things. Big Bacon is as American as it gets.”
Raluca was certain that he was getting revenge for every cold look she’d given him. On the other hand, the one thing she’d heard about America was that it was big and full of big things. If anyone had told her about Big Bacon, she’d have thought they were teasing her. But there it was, with its looming giant fake hotdog.
Raluca was faced with a choice: go along and pretend this was all normal, or outright order Nick to take her to the hotel. Part of her wanted to push him around for a change. But she had said that she wanted to do American things. And despite her annoyance with him, his boyish grin was hard to resist.
In fact, she realized, right now and while they’d been having sex had been the only times when the anger and tension had completely gone from his face. She liked the way he looked now, teasing but not malicious. Playful.
I’ll go along with it, she decided. She couldn’t brin
g herself to wipe that smile off his face. Let’s see how far he’ll go.
After all, he’d have to eat at Big Bacon too.
Nick ordered for them both. It seemed that Big Bacon only served one item, and it was to be eaten standing right on the sidewalk. He watched her closely as the man in the window shoved their order at them. If anything, his grin was even wider.
Raluca couldn’t help but blink at the gigantic, bacon-wrapped sausage piled with condiments in colors not found in nature. Then, looking straight at Nick, she crammed the largest bite she could fit into her mouth.
His astonished stare made it all worthwhile.
You didn’t think I’d really eat it, did you? Raluca thought.
Swallowing, she announced, “Delicious.”
Nick blinked. “Really?”
“We have such things in Viorel.” Raluca determinedly ate another bite, then stared at Nick until he did too. “The concept of meat wrapped in meat is not unique to America, you know.”
“Well...” Nick laughed suddenly. If his smile changed his face, his laugh transformed it. Raluca wondered if she was catching a glimpse of the boy he had once been, before... Surely something had to have happened to him, to make him so angry. “Yeah, you got me, princess. Meat wrapped in meat. Fucking universal.”
“I’m not a princess any more. And please don’t say that word.” Then, seeing his smile begin to fade, she quickly added, “I once traded my lunch with that of my maid. She had a sausage wrapped in ham and baked into a bun. It’s peasant’s food, not the sort of thing ever served at the royal table. I was curious.”
“How was it?” Nick asked.
Honestly, Raluca said, “Far better than Big Bacon.”
“Yeah.” Nick tossed the remains of his meal in a trashcan. “You don’t have to finish it. Big Bacon is more of landmark than...”