by Ophelia Bell
“Yeah, we need her too much to fuck this up,” Ignazio said. “She’s as good at feeding us as Nessa is. We need you to get better more than we need to get laid.”
Ignazio was right. He needed Pomona’s skills in the kitchen far more than he needed a mate. If he mated her he wouldn’t want to stop making love to her long enough to even eat. But how long could he hold out? He had no idea how much longer his recovery would even take.
“Her cooking is worth it,” he said.
“It is, at that. I’ll just take this stuff back down for Ren to deal with in the morning. You good for tonight?” Ignazio balanced the tray of dishes in one hand and grabbed his shirt, strategically holding it in front of his pelvis.
Bryer glanced away. “Thanks. See you at training tomorrow.”
Ignazio nodded and headed to the door. He paused just before leaving. “Man, think about it, though … we were in sync. That’s got to count for something—especially where your healing is concerned. It shouldn’t be her again. I get that. But maybe it should be someone, at least until one of us wins the bet.”
“I’ll think about it,” Bryer said, but knew after the taste he’d had of Pomona, there was no way in hell he’d want another woman.
“Good,” Ignazio said, though Bryer got the distinct impression he was no happier about the prospect.
Once Ignazio was gone, he stripped and headed to his shower. Despite his cock’s lack of response, he had the urge to try again—with Pomona’s scent still covering him and her flavor still lingering on his tongue, he hoped he could get himself going. He needed to know if simply knowing it was her … that he’d found his mate … would be enough to kick his stubborn dick into functioning again.
He soaped up and fisted his flaccid length, giving it a slow stroke. It thickened and grew half hard, but no sooner had he squeezed when the wind went out of his sails.
“Fuck!” he yelled down at his misbehaving cock.
It had to be the shower … losing the essence of her destroyed his desire. There was no way he could live like this. She’d been right there, ready and willing. If not for his fucking dick, he could have fucked her, marked her, and called the bet on the spot. But it wasn’t even about the damn bet. It was about her. He still wanted her, needed to know if she felt the same way. He didn’t care about winning … having her right in front of him and not taking her had left an empty ache in him—a hole that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying around until now.
He swiftly dressed and left his room. He was moving on instinct now, his conscience a small voice telling him to wait, but he ignored it—the need to have her was too strong to deny.
He was halfway through the garden, aiming for the door to her bungalow, when a shadow moved into view from the opposite end of the house. Ahead of him, Ignazio stopped in his tracks.
They stared at each other for a beat, glanced at her lit doorway, and back at each other.
“I was just …” they both blurted.
Ignazio let out a nervous laugh. “Ah, you said we should apologize, so I thought … but maybe it’s too soon.”
Letting out a breath, Bryer nodded, grateful for the easy excuse. “Had the same idea. I guess we’re still in sync, huh?”
The lights in Pomona’s bungalow went out then, leaving them illuminated from beneath by the dim glow of the bulbs lining the garden path.
“Well, I guess that settles it,” Ignazio said. “We should do it together, anyway … tomorrow.”
“Good plan,” Bryer said and turned back to the house, wondering the whole way if he’d been about to make the biggest mistake or the best decision of his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Ignazio opted to fly rather than sleep, his dragon itching for a release. He’d managed to get some relief after jerking off in his room after his accidental confrontation with Bryer in the garden, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied.
He needed more.
He’d been a complete fool to give in to the urge to go to her. What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn’t fully mate her without lying to Bry about it, and carrying that kind of dishonesty around would only cause problems where their training was concerned.
It was better this way. He’d just hold out two more months. With luck, and perhaps the help of the matchmaker, they’d find Bry his mate, too. Then when the bet was over with and Bry safely mated—and hopefully fully healed—he could finally confess his feelings for Pomona.
Even flying didn’t completely dispel his need, though. He couldn’t help but picture her full curves writhing under his touch and her perfect pussy gushing against his mouth when she climaxed over and over.
Sharing her with Bry had seemed like a no-brainer. His partner had even made the first move, which surprised the hell out of Ignazio, but he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to follow through. And seeing his future mate lose her mind with pleasure had probably been the highlight of his life. He almost regretted that sharing her with Bry couldn’t be a permanent arrangement. Not that he wouldn’t be willing to if she were willing, once they were mated, but it wouldn’t do either her or Bry any good to develop a relationship when his friend’s mate could come along at any moment.
Fuck, what the hell was he thinking? By the time Ignazio could even consider making it permanent with her, Bry would already have his mate. Bry had to find her within the next two months or their careers—their lives—would be over, and he wasn’t sure having Pomona would be enough to console him if that happened.
Bry had been right. They should apologize to her and do whatever was in their power to make sure the rest of her stay was devoid of any misbehavior.
That probably included clarifying what he’d meant about the spices she’d put in their food … nightshades were a nice kick and supposedly had curative properties for things like sexual dysfunction, but they weren’t like dragon Viagra or anything. Shifters didn’t need any help getting turned on when their heads were in the right place or when their mate was right in front of them getting chocolate licked off her breasts and begging for more.
He returned to the house, still aching to be with her, but determined to see this through to its appropriate end. There would be time enough to be with her after his partner’s needs were seen to.
* * *
Seeing Pomona the next morning only upset his already shaky willpower. Just as her contract had dictated, she was up serving them their second delicious meal since her arrival. She gave them both a sunny smile that warmed him from the inside out and left him feeling even guiltier about the way he and Bry had manhandled her the night before.
This was a woman who deserved to be worshiped in every way. Not that she hadn’t deserved the kind of pleasure Ignazio knew he and his partner had provided, but she was worth so much more than that. It was probably better that he was forced to wait—he wasn’t good enough for her now.
He and Bry ate their breakfasts in subdued silence. The food was delicious, of course, but distinctly lacked a certain flavor he’d come to expect, especially if this was the same dish Nessa usually served them.
“No peppers,” Bryer commented, then laughed. “I think she took your comment a little too seriously. We have got to fix this before it goes too far.”
They both finished every bite, then looked at each other over their empty plates. Bryer raised an eyebrow that Ignazio knew meant, “Now?”
He nodded and pushed his chair back, standing just as Pomona walked back through the door. She stood at the end of the table, looking at each of them in turn and worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“Is something wrong?” Bryer asked, though Ignazio was sure he knew already.
“Depends what you mean by ‘wrong’,” Pomona said, gripping the back of the empty chair in front of her. “I … I really just need to get this out of the way.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Thi
s job means everything to me, and by everything, I mean everything. Being a chef is my entire life. I don’t have much to go back to on Earth … and boy, does it sound so weird to say that … so I really don’t want to fuck this up. I also don’t want to, ah … leave the elephant in the room without, you know, pointing it out?”
Ignazio frowned. “There are no elephant shifters this far north, I promise. Definitely none on the premises.”
She stared at him for a beat, then laughed. “It’s a human idiom … ignoring the elephant in the room. It means …”
“Refusing to speak about an issue that is impossibly obvious to all involved,” Bryer said. “You want to talk about last night. So do we.”
Pomona’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded. “Yeah, I think we need to. I, um … I’d be lying if I said what happened wasn’t … great. I mean, my god, you’d think you guys trained for pleasing women and not arena fights. But it can’t happen again. Not if I’m going to stay and do the job I was hired to do, which I really want to do. That is, assuming you still want me to.” She glanced down at their empty plates.
“We’d like you to stay,” Ignazio said.
“And we owe you an apology for last night. We were out of line,” Bryer said.
She shook her head, the pretty blonde wisps that framed her face catching the morning sunlight. “No, you don’t need to apologize … I mean, I had no idea the hot pepper in the dessert would set you off. I’ll be more careful …” She trailed off when Bryer gave Ignazio an amused look. “What … did I say something funny? This is serious, guys! My career is on the line!”
Ignazio laughed and raised a hand. “I’m sorry. We aren’t laughing at you … well, not completely. I might have exaggerated the power the spice has over us. It’s true that it can heat the blood and fuel a dragon’s libido, but that doesn’t mean we can’t control ourselves. Last night … well, we …”
Bryer jumped in. “We let our dragons get the best of us. It’s been a struggle for us to be in sync with our animals, and with each other. Being with a woman together is one way we … ah … exercise that talent, I guess you could say. It was just a perfect convergence of stimuli last night … good food, a beautiful woman, and both of us being focused on a common goal. We haven’t had that since before my injury.”
“It won’t happen again,” Ignazio said. “Your career is safe. Which is important to us, because our careers depend on you staying long enough for Bryer to fully heal.”
Pomona seemed to be taking it all in. She regarded them with avid curiosity, and he was sure she had questions, but she bit her lip again and just nodded.
“Good,” she said.
“If you have any other concerns …” Ignazio said as she picked up their dishes and headed back to the kitchen.
“I will ask … Oh, there is one thing. You owe me a new skirt and pair of panties. I don’t exactly have a massive wardrobe.” She tossed a flirty look over her shoulder that made his heart skip a beat. The memory of shredding her clothes was still achingly vivid, and his cock roused.
“We’ll compensate you for them. I’ll send Levi to talk to you later.”
“Thanks! Don’t you guys have training to get to?” She backed through the kitchen doors, making a shooing gesture with one hand, her eyes sparkling with joy.
On their way down to the gym, he couldn’t help but think Pomona was the perfect woman. He and Bryer had always idolized Nessa, but most of that was because she was safe. Safely out of reach, but possessing all the qualities he and his friend secretly wished for in a mate—beauty, creativity, wit, and a very nurturing nature. Was that why his dragon had instantly wanted Pomona? That couldn’t be … he hadn’t even known her yet beyond what he’d seen on paper—details he’d promptly forgotten until Nessa reminded him her replacement was coming.
After only a day and barely a complete conversation, he was more confused than ever about what to do. She was his mate, there was no disputing that, but she was also far more than he could have ever imagined she might be. And he had to wait to have her.
“Couldn’t be more perfect,” Bryer said, breaking through his thoughts.
“Huh?” Ignazio said, suddenly worried his friend had been in sync with him enough to read his mind.
“This day. Just look at the lake and the mountains. We should do aerial drills over the lake today. Points off for getting wet.”
“You’re on!” Ignazio ripped off his shirt and dove off the landing. He manifested his wings at the peak of his arc and glided half-shifted the rest of the way to the gym.
Mondaro was waiting for them inside and gave them both a wary look. “Something’s changed.” He looked them up and down, arms crossed and a serious expression on his face. “Someone woke up your dragons, yeah? You two dined well since yesterday.” He gave them both a nod of approval.
“The new chef’s good,” Ignazio said. “Don’t breathe a word to Nessa, but I think Pomona might even be a better cook.”
“Psh,” Mondaro said with a wave of his hand. “Nessa’s cooking was good for last season. Her food’s right for winners. Broken dragons need more hands-on, soul-deep nourishment. This one is better for you now. Better keep her.”
“We plan to,” Bryer said, his voice carrying a thread of steel to it that made Ignazio’s stomach clench with territorial caution. He shook it off. Bryer was just eager for his injury to heal, and if their recent synchronicity persisted, it would go much more quickly now.
Still, he planned to do everything in his power to make sure Pomona’s stay here was happy and devoid of any interference where her job was concerned.
Chapter Fourteen
After lunch passed without incident, Pomona started to feel like she could easily settle into the job. She just needed to find a way to get used to the floating sensations she felt whenever she was in the same room with Ignazio and Bryer.
The kitchen itself was a chef’s paradise, all pristine white-tile and stainless steel, with lights that came on in the morning with a pink glow to them, like the dawn itself, and gradually shifted color throughout the day.
Nessa had left her several dense files of notes on the ideal ingredients to include in Bryer and Ignazio’s meals, to the point she almost felt like she was preparing food for two very finicky pets instead of a pair of full-grown men.
Shifters, she reminded herself. They were shifters … so maybe it really was like having a pair of pet dragons, after all.
Regardless, she appreciated the bits of wisdom Nessa peppered throughout her notes, which Pomona sat and combed through during the free time she had between meals. The other woman had been their dedicated chef since early in their careers, so knew them well and had plenty of interesting insights to share—the most interesting was that Bryer had a sweet tooth while Ignazio had a penchant for spicy food, which shed some light on the previous night’s activities. Apparently, her chocolate mousse was the perfect dessert for the two of them.
Breakfast had gone well, so she was eager to put the night behind her and focus on the job at hand. Getting Bryer healed was at the top of the list, and hopefully in the process she could infuse their meals with enough culinary remedies to help with Ignazio’s sleep issues. She realized she should have thought to ask him how he’d slept and made a mental note to do that tomorrow.
Once dinner was prepped and served that evening, and the two men happily ensconced in their plates, she retreated to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the night’s dessert. She had some of the previous night’s mousse left and hated to see it go to waste, even though the idea of serving it to them again caused alarming heat to warm her core.
She really needed to not think of them that way from now on. It had been memorable, sure … the most memorable night of her life, in fact … but she’d meant what she said to them that morning. Her career was everything to her, and she really needed to make this job work.
The leftover mousse served as the icing, and after she completed it, she decorated the brick-shaped cake with shaved curls of semi-sweet chocolate and fresh berries shaped like little golden bells that tasted like ripe cherries. Oddly, chocolate seemed to be a universal ingredient here on Nova Aurora, and she couldn’t help but wonder where it had originated. Had they brought it to Earth, or had they appropriated it from humans ages ago?
When the cake was done, she carried it out and found the two of them had already cleared their plates and set the table again for dessert, except there was a third setting at the end of the table.
“Are you guys expecting a guest?” she asked, setting the cake down before them.
“Actually, we were hoping you would join us,” Ignazio said.
“Please do,” Bryer said.
Pomona’s eyebrows shot up and she looked between the two men, already feeling the flush of warmth rising up her chest. “I don’t know … my wardrobe can’t handle another dessert with you two.”
“Give us a chance to prove we can share a dessert like civilized men. Here, we promise we will eat off our own plates, and we insist you feed yourself. Deal?” Ignazio asked, nudging the silver utensil at the place setting they’d made for her.
She licked her lips, her mouth already watering at the thought of another taste of that delicious cake.