by Starla Night
The weight of the evening pressed on Karmel’s shoulders. “All I wanted to do was impress my boss and make my customers happy.”
Peridot tugged her into his arms. “Let me take you home.”
She accepted without argument.
How much more was she going to screw up?
Chapter Eight
Peridot held Karmel close.
She was sad.
He appreciated the quiet.
Because it helped him tamp down his fury.
This was a human affair. Dragons must not interfere. He must not hunt the crazed older female or challenge her to a fight. He must not shift into his dragon form and rend her into strips for daring to threaten his—
His what? Not mate. Karmel had not agreed to become his mate.
He had not asked.
And she did not look well. Now was not the right time.
Then what was Karmel? His friend? His confidante? His most desired female?
His?
Yes. She was his.
No one dared to threaten his.
Peridot flew to her lair. In the quiet, semi-residential neighborhood, hers was the top apartment in an old building. Colored bulbs twinkled in the windows.
He landed on the front steps.
She stepped back. Exhaustion mixed with an unusual look of defeat. She tugged her mischievous curls back in the chill wind. “Thanks for everything tonight.”
“I’ll see you in.”
She buzzed them in with her key. “Okay. You must be tired. I’m going to start baking.”
“I will help.”
“You’ve already saved me. Several times. You’ve more than done enough.” She pulled the door.
He rested his foot in the jamb. “Can I help?”
“I can’t ask you.” She thudded the door against his foot three times without seeming to realize the reason it didn’t close. “You don’t deserve to get stuck … stuck in … stuck in my…”
“…in your ‘bad planning’ bed?”
“Yeah.” She blinked and realized what was going on. Her chest rose and fell. “What?”
“I’m still hoping for an invitation.”
“You are? Seriously?”
He pushed the door open wider.
Her lush lips parted. Her pink tongue wet her lower lip. “Come in.”
He ensured the door was locked behind him.
Peridot would never have done this to Star Sapphire. He would never reveal his desires and make himself vulnerable.
For Karmel, he would risk.
Together, they crossed the huge, empty lobby.
A new briskness animated her movements. “Here’s where we’ll hold the cookie exchange.”
Their footprints shone in the dust. “You still need to clean.”
“Yeah.”
He added it to his internal task list.
“This building was once a community center,” Karmel said, “back in the seventies. The three upper floors were converted into apartments. The bottom floor was supposed to be converted into a restaurant but the landlord ran out of enthusiasm. There’s a bunch of weird propane tanks and commercial kitchen appliances rusting in the backyard.”
They took the elevator to the top floor. She unlocked her door and let him inside.
He had been here before with Syenite and Eva. Never just with Karmel.
Her lair was homey. A futon couch lounged in front of a small television. Art Deco chairs crowded the room. She removed her shoes, hung her coat on the door hook, and crossed her shaggy cream carpet.
Red, green, blue, and yellow lights danced around windows. A spindly Douglas fir grew in a white five-gallon bucket. A tree skirt flared from the base. Wrapped packages rested against the plastic.
“You decorated,” he said.
Her lips curved. “Don’t be silly. This is nothing.”
She trudged down the hall to her kitchen. Tiredness dragged her stride.
“I will clean the lobby,” he called.
“Wait.” She leaned back into the hall. “Will you keep me company?”
He sauntered to her. “I will.”
“Thanks.” She tied her hair into a curly knot at her nape and donned a flour-dusted apron. “I’m still feeling shook up and I appreciate having a big, strong … having you close.”
She washed her hands, opened cabinets, and arranged baking supplies.
He rested a hip against a counter and watched her.
The kitchen was what he would count as “decorated.” More lights twinkled around the windows, the skylight overhead, and draped across succulents and spider plants. On a shelf above the back wall, a collection of painted nutcrackers stared out at him.
“I can feel your doubt,” she said.
He glanced over.
Her skeptical look challenged him on every level.
“I see decorations,” he said.
“I knew it! Look. See, here. This is decorated.” She opened her laptop computer on the tiny side table. Monochrome houses scrolled past. “God, I’d love to make these glassed-in white candles with a tinsel garland around the base. Here are glass vases full of ornaments.”
He eased closer, sensing her body heat through the thin fabric. “Mm.”
“I bought the components today but I don’t really need them so I’ll … er, well, anyway.” She straightened, brushing against him, and gestured at the screen. “See any you like?”
He clenched his teeth on his groan. She had to know what she was doing to him. “I see a lot I like.”
“And this is the secret project I wasted my time on this morning.” She lifted a small, brown disk imprinted with a paw print. “They could be an ornament or a paperweight. But if I take the impression at the start of an appointment, it won’t dry by the end. I tried to microwave one. It swelled out of shape.”
The ornament smelled like her only stronger. So, that was why she’d been infused with an aroma of cinnamon and sugar.
“Perhaps you can prepare them in advance.”
“Not unless I break into people’s houses.” She replaced the ornament. “People entrust us with their pups. I wanted to give back a precious memory to treasure.”
His chest hummed. “You will be a good mother.”
“Someday.” She sighed. “For the time being, this apartment won’t even let me keep pets.”
Then, she cast a glance at him over her shoulder. A cute smile teased her lips. “Why? Are you offering?”
“Offering what?”
She laughed and waved him off. A click at the keyboard and a playlist of soft, jazzy music started. Karmel backed to the counter and sorted her ingredients. “Nothing. Just fantasizing. Hand me that silver bowl above the stove, will you?”
He rose the extra few inches into the air and collected the large bowl hanging from a peg in the skylight.
“There’s a stepladder behind the … oh.” She took the bowl he handed to her, glanced up at the skylight and then at him, and shook herself. “Right. Okay, let me wash these bowls and glasses in the sink, and we’ll get started.”
“What are ‘we’ making?”
“The fastest, fanciest cookies I can manage.”
While milk chocolate liquefied in her candy melter, Peridot mashed Oreo cookies with gooey cream cheese, rolled the sweet mixture into balls, and lined them on trays for her freezer. Karmel measured and mixed a sugary white dough in a stand mixer. She put the mixer bowl in the fridge and handed him a beater.
“Give it a lick.” She tangled her tongue around the metal spines. “Mm. Sinful.”
“It is sinful?” He savored the white mixture.
“Basic food safety: Never eat raw cookie dough.” She licked it clean. “But everyone does.”
“I am immune to human diseases.”
“Lucky. You can eat that which is forbidden.”
She put the dishes in the sink and filled them with soapy water. Her energy seemed to grow as the night stretched. She showed him how to dry and stow the
dishes, then pulled out a dark bottle of Lady Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur.
“Let’s celebrate.”
“I can’t get drunk.”
“You wouldn’t get buzzed after one of these, anyway.” She measured two shots into a Mason jar, added shots of Bailey’s and whipped cream vodka, and filled the jar with ice cubes. She capped and shook it. “Poor woman’s cocktail shaker.”
He dipped his head.
She strained the beige liquid into two slender glasses, sprayed a dollop of canned whipped cream on top, and dusted the drinks with cocoa.
She handed him a glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” He clinked the glass and sipped.
Creamy, frothy, and sweet. Dangerous, like the cranberry martini. But not as dangerous as Karmel’s tender smile.
“It’s a White Chocolate Kiss,” she said brightly. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! I forgot. A super important question: Which is your favorite chocolate?”
“My favorite?”
“Let’s find out.” She stirred the lumpy, semi-melted chocolate and drizzled some over his rim. It oozed over his fingers. She giggled. “Oops.”
He licked his index finger. “Be good. I might reciprocate.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“What do you want it to be?”
Her smile faltered. Her gaze trailed over his jaw to his shirt collar. Her tongue touched her parted lips.
The kitchen grew fiery hot.
Was this an opportunity? He had allowed Star Sapphire to escape because he would not boldly chase after her. Did he need to press Karmel now?
She sucked in a breath and shifted back. “Um, the chocolate’s almost melted, so it’s time for the next step.” Karmel got out the chilled Oreo balls and showed him how to cover them in milk chocolate. “One tray to exchange and one tray for sale. Anyone who doesn’t want to bring their own cookies can buy them. Or anyone who wants extra. All proceeds go to charity.”
He argued with himself as he worked.
Antagonizing her was the last thing he wanted. Tonight’s tentative friendship was a significant step forward. He had time to woo her. Confirm her feelings. Draw her into his embrace.
Unless he disappointed her.
His chest hurt.
He would not destroy this chance.
Peridot finished coating the cookie balls in chocolate.
“You’re a natural born chocolatier. I bet you could handle tempering. I always get distracted and mess up the second stage.” Karmel took off her apron. “Here. Let’s determine your favorite baking supplies. Start with rainbow sprinkles.”
He cupped the small sprinkles. “In one night, you will turn my world upside down.”
“That’s the idea.”
As he taste-tested, he memorized the luscious shape of her backside sliding beneath the blue fabric. How he’d flip the hem, stroke her bare skin, and thrust his cock into her pleasure-slick channel…
She whirled. Her dress flared, exposing a hint of thigh. “Need more of anything?”
More you. More naked.
“More whipped cream.”
“Good choice. I’m a chocolate lover myself, but I could eat whipped cream straight out of the can. Now, if they made chocolate whipped cream, I’d never need another thing.”
She placed his finished truffles in the fridge and shook the whipped cream. “Want another drink? Or straight out of the can?”
“What do you recommend?”
She sprayed a dollop on her finger, licked it off, and glanced at him slyly.
Karmel was an irresistible temptation.
He held out his fingers. She sprayed another dollop. He stuck the sweetness in his mouth.
Rich and substantial, filling and frothy, sweet but also satisfying.
Like Karmel.
“Another?” she asked. The heat of the kitchen made her honey-brown eyes dark and her cheeks flush.
One taste only made him crave more.
He nodded.
She sprayed the dollop on her fingers and quickly smudged it on his lips. “Got you! Ha ha.”
He caught her hand.
She laughed and tugged away. “Sorry, sorry. You can reciprocate. I’m prepared. You’re always so perfect. I wanted to mess you up.”
Perfect. Her word for his silent compliance. The shield he hid behind.
He always followed the rules. He was predictable. Dull.
“So mess me up,” he said. “Karmel.”
Her laughter died. Her lips parted. “Peridot?”
He teased the cream off her sweet fingertips. His tongue laved her red and green nails.
“P-peridot.”
He backed her into the counter. Placing one hand on the cool laminate to keep her in place, he reached over her shoulder and dipped his fingers in the melted chocolate. He lifted the liquid to her lips. “Or do you want me to reciprocate?”
She sucked in a breath and raised her hand. “I was just teasing.”
He stopped.
She pushed him back. “And I took it too far. I’m sorry. I’m tired and you’re beautiful and my self-preservation is in pieces. So if you don’t want to start a relationship, then stop right now.”
He touched the chocolate to her lips. The smooth liquid shone like a sweet invitation.
“Be serious.” She put covered his mouth. “Peridot.”
“I am always serious.” He nipped her fingertips.
She shivered. “I won’t forgive you if this is a joke.”
“I have always wanted you.”
“You ran away from me.”
“I ran from my desires. Tonight you showed me what I was missing. And I want more, Karmel. I crave you.” He risked everything for her. “Become my mate.”
Chapter Nine
Karmel reeled.
Peridot wanted her? For his mate?
Impossible. He barely tolerated her. Until today. He’d shared himself, unveiled his vulnerabilities, made her fall harder.
And now, his gorgeous green eyes flared with focus. His hard abdomen sandwiched her against the kitchen counter. His thick cock pressed her belly, stealing her breath.
The chocolate he’d teased across her lips coated her tongue.
This was a dream.
“Me?” she whispered.
“You.”
“Since when?”
“Since the first moment.” He nibbled the corner of her mouth. “When you told me I could reinvent myself as someone new.”
“That long ago?”
“I was very certain my life was over.” He nuzzled her cheek. His stubble scraped her in a way that pinged in her belly. Male. Marking her. She shivered. “Your words gave me the will to try again.”
Her heart melted.
And so did her panties.
“You avoided me.” She struggled against his sizzling kisses. “You ran away.”
“I didn’t want someone as beautiful, kind, and resilient as you to think I was dull.”
Oh!
She caught his cheeks in her hands.
He blinked on her in surprise.
She insisted hotly, “You are not dull, Peridot! You’re smart, hard-working, and determined. And anyone who spends even a minute nearby will see that you are absolutely wonderful.”
His expression softened. “You are charitable.”
“I’m not saying it to be kind! I’m saying it because it’s true.”
His lips tugged into the ghost of that long-ago smile. “Any dragon who heard such words would fight to make you his mate.”
“Well, too bad. I already belong to your.”
His expression fell to shock. And then his large hands curled around her waist. She tasted the full strength of his fiery, possessive, gorgeous heat. “You accept my claim?”
“I do.”
Pure male exaltation made her insides gooey as the milk chocolate.
He slid one hand up to the base of her head. “Then, in
the dragon way, we seal our promise with our bodies.” He lowered.
Karmel twined her arms around his neck and lilted her chin.
Peridot’s kiss tasted like chocolate whipped cream.
It set her on fire.
His lips were firm, powerful, and addictive. His tongue stroked her seam. She opened for him. He thrust in.
She coated herself with his masculine strength.
He crushed her against the counter and kissed down the column of her neck. She moaned and tipped her head to give him greater access. It incited his passion to new fierceness.
Peridot unzipped her dress, peeled it off, and lifted her onto the counter. The whipped cream canister rolled away and sugar and sprinkles scattered. Her underwear-clad butt rested on the ledge. He stared at her exposure like a man starved. His desire, always kept tautly controlled, had been unleashed.
How had she never known this male needed her like this? What had she been doing all this time?
He cupped her cotton bra. Her breasts swelled and tingled. Her nipples came up to sharp points of attention.
“They’re plain,” she apologized. “Underwear is the only thing you can’t get at a thrift store for cheap.”
“Cotton frosting.” He unpeeled the bra and lifted her breasts free. Cool air made her nipples contract. “Here is the cake.”
His hot mouth closed over her and his tongue swirled the dusky nipple.
Sweet aching shot to her center.
She arched her back, opening herself to him, and stroked his hair. The brown, silken strands slipped through her fingers, a finer texture than she’d imagined. Now she knew this secret detail about him. It made her warm and happy.
He treated her other breast to the same succulent worship. Her feminine center throbbed, begging for his touch. As though hearing her wish, he peeled off her underwear, leaving her naked on the counter.
She reached for his suit buttons. Unwrapping him, her own personal Christmas present.
Rippling pecs, hard abs, a shimmer of green scales that disappeared as he contorted. He unzipped his trousers. The tailored slacks pool around his ankles. White briefs outlined his package.
Her mouth went dry.
Massive thighs flexed as he removed his loafers, socks, and finally, his briefs. A fully nude, Greek statue of a male filled her kitchen. His treasure trail led to a cock that had every reason to stand proud.