Table of Contents
Dragon Rider
Book Details
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Part Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part Three
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Part Four
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
Landlocked Heart Book Three:
Dragon Rider
Kay Berrisford
The road to Ben and Lyle's wedding is proving a bumpy one. Ben hasn't even told his family he's getting hitched to a shapeshifting merman, and he's not the only one worried. When Lyle's tearaway sister, Cully, whisks Lyle away on the merfolk equivalent of a stag do, she questions whether marriage is what Lyle needs anyhow. A merman should roam the seas and seek adventure, not work in an ice-cream parlour and worry about the rent.
With rumours flying among merfolk that Lyle is a dragon shifter, adventure seeks out Lyle, whether he wants it or not. Cully and Ben must set their differences aside to save Lyle from a gang wishing to steal his magical powers, which are in reality waning, possibly life-threateningly so. Lyle soon realizes it's going to take a miracle for him to make it to the wedding, forcing Ben to embrace magic and become something other an "ordinary" guy...
Dragon Rider
Landlocked Heart 3
By Kay Berrisford
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Constance Blye
Cover designed by Jasmine Ang
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition November 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Kay Berrisford
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781684311194
Print ISBN 9781684311606
Part One
Chapter One
Ben twisted around in the cramped changing cubical. Examining himself in the mirror, he sighed.
His three-piece suit was a bright kingfisher blue, the fit slightly too snug. Ben looked like he always did in posh gear—more student nervous for the graduation ball than dashing groom kitted out for the greatest day of his life. If he paired the suit with a plain shirt and kept the rest of the outfit conventional, he might just pull it off.
Though he'd a sneaking feeling the merman changing in the adjacent booth would protest bitterly at the idea of being "conventional" on their wedding day.
"Ta-da!" said Lyle, swishing back the curtain of Ben's cubical and presenting himself. In fully human form—all six-feet-one of it—Lyle struck a deliberately over-the-top pose with his chin jutted and his hands on his snakelike hips. He wore the same blue suit as Ben, tailored skin-tight, and he'd paired it with a tangerine shirt with paisley swirls.
And, oh sweet heavens, he'd found some maroon shoes with pointed toes. These almost matched the claret streaks in his long auburn hair, but shouted obtusely at the orange in his shirt. The walls, mirrored on three sides, reflected Lyle in all his glory from the dressing room to infinity.
"Benjamin, you look delicious!" Lyle grinned, feral. "Then again, you always do. What are your thoughts on me?"
"You look great, but…" Ben tugged at his collar, beginning to sweat for more reasons than he'd dare count.
The heating in the stuffy suit-hire shop blasted, and his garb was a size too small for comfort. Moreover, despite or even because of, Lyle's ridiculous outfit, which hugged each contour of his lean musculature, Lyle looked hotter than hellfire. This rendered Ben's trousers a tad restrictive around the crotch, yet that was the least—and most pleasant—of his worries.
"But what?" Lyle entered Ben's cubical, tugging the curtain closed behind him. He grasped Ben and pulled him close. "Maybe this kind of suit is more you than me, eh?"
With Lyle so near, his breath scorching Ben's already burning face, the remainder of Ben's blood headed south fast. He exhaled long and slow, distracting himself with his woes.
"You know the issue." Ben dipped his gaze to avoid Lyle's narrowing blue-lilac eyes. "I want you to wear something that makes you happy. But my family and a ton of guests will be at this wedding. If you turn up in something too suggestive, and then, uh…"
Lyle huffed sharply, though took pity on Ben's stammering inability to spit out the truth. "You're worried I'm going to lose control of my shapeshifting magic and my fins will pop out and terrify your nieces. And cost you a fortune in suit repairs. It won't happen, I promise. Can't you trust me on this?"
Ben suppressed a wince. He'd striven to be laid back about money and life in general lately. But still, the only reason they could afford Lyle's dream wedding venue overlooking the sea—let alone the fireworks, honeymoon suite, and the rest of Lyle's wish list—was because Ben's parents were helping pay. He had to at least try and keep the affair family friendly.
"It is a winter wedding," Ben pointed out. "You could wear a bit of a looser jacket. Or maybe if we went for top hat and tailcoats that would help, or something even more substantial—"
"I'm not getting married in a dirty-old-man raincoat!" Lyle contradicted his lashing words by grasping Ben's arse and squeezing with enthusiasm. "Come on, darling, I know your lovely parents are helping out, but this is our wedding day. Don't you want me to look as good as you do?"
Ben wanted to tell Lyle he'd always look better than Ben ever could, even if clad in a bin bag. With Lyle fondling him, all he could murmur was, "Yes, of course." Then Lyle brushed Ben's mouth with his. Lyle's lips were soft, slightly chapped from the cold outside, and tasted faintly of honeyed cereal. Even Ben's fears of being discovered coupling in the changing room briefly fled.
Encountering no resistance from Ben, Lyle worked the kiss, kindling electric sensations with his tongue which bolted straight to Ben's core. Ben melted into it, enjoying Lyle's enthusiasm. Could this awesome kiss be magically charged?
Lyle had displayed an increased zest for everything in life of late, even sex, which he'd never exactly shied from. Ben figured it was because Lyle had been living by the seaside for nearly six months now and bathed in the ocean at least once a day. His magical energies, depleted by nearly two centuries being landlocked, had surely been restored. Although he still suffered faint spells after too much magical exertion… and those awkward shapeshifting malfunctions.
Whatever the reason for Lyle's vigour, Ben loved the results. Returning the kiss with interest, he squeezed his hands up inside Lyle's shirt, enjoying Lyle's sleek lines, while also missing those tentacle-like fins Lyle possessed when in his natural form, just a little. Who wouldn't?
Yet Ben still didn't have a notion how to explain Lyle's merman identity to his family when they visited this week…
Clearly sensing the moment had passed, Lyle broke the kiss and leaned down to press his forehead to Ben's. "I've been thinking," said Lyle. "I'm not sure a hired suit is for me. You go ahead and get whatever makes you look super, but it might be more fun—and cheaper—for me to make my own outfit."
"Okay," said Ben, uneasy. Lyle had been teaching himself to sew, partially to provide a new medium for his ocean-inspired artwork, but mainly to r
epair the outfits he'd wrecked with his fin-related mishaps. Lyle had shown promise, though Ben feared he wasn't up to high-class seamstress work yet.
"I bought something to inspire me." It was Lyle's turn to sound apprehensive. "Want to see?"
"Fine, but we'd better make it quick. The salesman will be back soon, and we need to make a decision for him sometime this century."
Lyle had bounded out and then back into Ben's cubical, now carrying a small paper bag, all before Ben finished speaking. Behind the closed curtain, Lyle peeled down his trousers, stripping himself to his briefs prior to removing his shirt. Ben couldn't help enjoying the show. It was also impossible to avoid touching Lyle's cute arse as he bent over in the cramped space. When Lyle retrieved what appeared to be a scrap of flimsy black silk, Ben's brows shot up in query.
"What's that?"
Lyle answered Ben with an enigmatic half-moon smile and shook out the fabric to reveal a lace-trimmed black negligee, which he slipped over his head.
Lyle raised his arms and shimmied the diaphanous fabric down his slim frame, hips gyrating. He flipped his long hair behind his shoulders, and Ben's arousal ratcheted up a whole new level. He clenched his fists to resist jumping Lyle and rutting into him, then and there, up against the peeling orange paint on the changing room wall.
"What do you think?" breathed Lyle.
"Think?" Ben slid a palm to the shallow curve of Lyle's waist. "I can't. You just frazzled my brains."
In all honesty, though, Ben's mind whirled and galloped. It was now nearly ten months since they'd first met. While Lyle had rebelled delightfully against Ben's conventional tastes of late, Ben had had no notion Lyle was into… well, this. That said, given Lyle's freewheeling nature and his newness to the broad possibilities of the human world, Lyle's recent purchase didn't come as a great surprise. The revelation certainly proved an agreeable one. Ben adored the sight, as well as the sensation of the skimpy fabric sliding against Lyle's smooth skin.
"We need to have sex with you wearing this… very soon." Ben panted heavily in Lyle's ear. "Or… God, I'm so horny for you, I might throw caution to the wind and demand we do it right now. We'll worry about the police cautions later."
"How gorgeously reckless!" Lyle chewed his lower lip, coy, making Ben yearn to suck it. "So it's good inspiration for my wedding costume, right?"
Okay, but Ben had his limits.
"No, it's not quite wedding gear. At least, it's more wedding night than wedding day."
And I can see your nipples through it, so it's not going to conceal your ruddy fins, should they appear unexpectedly and set the entire guest list screaming.
Ben swallowed back this final part of his worries for now.
"I don't want to wear exactly this for the ceremony," said Lyle. "I actually favour trousers because they show off my bum better. I just adore the fabric, and—"
"Ahem!" At the sound of the shop assistant clearing his throat outside the booth, Ben jumped half an inch into the air. "How are we doing in there, gentlemen?"
"Very well indeed," said Ben, with forced cheer. He slipped out from behind the curtain, keeping Lyle concealed behind. The slickly dressed man's shoes were so shiny, Ben wouldn't have been surprised if they caught Lyle's reflection under the partition.
"We're considering the kingfisher three-pieces," said Ben. The blue suits would certainly raise fewer questions than if Lyle turned up to the ceremony in sultry lingerie. "But I preferred the tonal grey morning suit I tried earlier."
"Very good, sir," said the salesman. "By the way, one of you gentleman's sister is waiting in the shop. She asked if she could come and see what you're up to. As we've no other customers in this afternoon, it's acceptable with me, if it is with you?"
"M-my sister?" Ben did his best not to panic. Alison had a bad habit of turning up early and unannounced, yet her visit wasn't due until Wednesday, in two days' time. She'd made a mistake; that was the only explanation. Even so, how the dickens had she known where to find them?
"Uh, could you ask Alison to wait a minute, please?" he asked, the countless questions dizzying him.
The salesman frowned. "The lady said her name was Cully," he said. "Perhaps there's been some mix up."
Ben sagged with relief. It had to be an error, thank heavens.
"She said she was looking for her brother, Lyle," added the salesman.
Ben discerned a muffled cry from Lyle and winced. Poor Lyle. His family gave him nothing but grief. Ben's temper darkened and he primed himself to send this Cully individual packing.
Instead, Lyle called out from beyond the curtain. "Cully is indeed one of my numerous siblings. You had better ask her to come in."
Chapter Two
After the salesman disappeared, Ben slid back into the changing booth. Lyle, still dressed in the negligee, had turned pale and rigid. Whether through fear, anger, or something else, Ben couldn't judge.
He took Lyle's fingers, rubbing the knuckles with his thumb in an attempt to offer comfort. "I didn't even know you had a sister called Cully."
"Neither did I," said Lyle, staring through Ben as if lost in a fog of memories. "Cully was another of my brothers, the second youngest and just three summers older than me. Through Welwyn's bullying, he stood up for me as much as he could. We were once close. At least… we were, over one-hundred-seventy-five years ago."
"Lyle? Are you there? It's me!"
At the deep, silvery, and undoubtedly feminine voice, Lyle jolted with apparent shock. "We're not ready, Cully," said Ben firmly, and then added to Lyle in an undertone, "Get yourself changed and we'll face this together."
Lyle dropped Ben's hand, glided past him without a second glance, and threw aside the curtain. A statuesque woman stood before them, her hair a shimmering mix of sea greens and blues and arranged in an artful pixie style. Striking cut-glass features and her wicked grin left Ben no doubt she was Lyle's relative.
"Hello, Lyle," she said.
Lyle regarded her for a moment, and then his guardedness fell away. He matched her beam with his own. "It's wonderful to see you," he said. Ben looked on, feeling a little like an imposter, while Cully and Lyle enveloped each another in a bear-hug.
"Oh Gods, Cully!" Lyle sounded understandably choked as he pulled back to look at her, holding her at arms' length. "It's been too long. Way too long. How did you find me?"
"You're famous, Lyle. I heard you'd broken the curse from a mermaid on the Irish coast, and headed straight to the Wise Mas to find out where you were. Actually, I've got a message for you from them, but that's another story—I'll fill you in later. I was desperate to find you. And, of course, I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement."
"How kind of you," said Lyle, as they edged apart. Ben suspected her news of a message troubled him. Given Ben's recent near-death encounter with the magic of the Wise Mas, it troubled Ben too. "I never knew you wanted to be female," continued Lyle. "I always knew I was male back then, yet was forced toward being a girl. You could've chosen either way."
Cully flinched, the first chink Ben detected in her self-confident air. "I wanted to be a woman as long as I can remember," she confessed. "Back then, when we were children, I was too scared to pretend to be anything but a boy. I saw what was happening with you, and I feared Welwyn would want me to have his babies instead—and I've never wanted rug rats. Ugh! After Welwyn cursed you for refusing to breed with him, I was terrified his attentions would fly to me anyway. So I got out, decided to forge my own destiny. Best decision I ever made."
"I understand," said Lyle, though Ben found himself harbouring a festering resentment against Cully. Even if she had stood up for Lyle back in the day, Ben reckoned she could've done more to deflect the blows. He wondered if she'd endeavoured to rescue Lyle from his long years of captivity, of if she knew of the angst Lyle had suffered over Welwyn's recent death. Why did she have to wade in with messages, or whatever other crap, just when Lyle was finally strong and happy?
Then again, Lyle ap
peared pleased to see her. Ben silently vowed he'd do his best to get on with her.
"You look great, by the way," said Lyle, perking up.
"Not as good as you look right now, you bastard!" Cully rubbed the fabric of Lyle's negligee between her forefinger and thumb. "Gods, I love this. It's sensual and clingy, and it'd work with or without fins. I've never seen anybody look so damned… hot. If you weren't my own brother, you'd get me into men." Lyle recoiled, seemingly befuddled. Cully chuckled all the harder. "Don't fret, I'm jesting with you. I've been confident in my sexuality since 1851. I'm not going to waver now."
While belatedly wondering whether it would be polite to laugh at Cully's joke, Ben conceded she was right about one thing. In the larger mirrored area, he gained a multi-angle view of Lyle's long sinewy legs and how the fabric clung way better than any suit to his every hard line and delicate furrow. The outfit was so wonderfully, perfectly Lyle.
Before Ben could lose himself to the joys of drooling, Cully swivelled her attention onto him. "So this is the lucky chap who gets to marry my favourite sibling, eh?"
"It is," said Lyle. "Cully—meet Benjamin Miles, my dashing fiancé and the love of my life."
Savouring the pride in Lyle voice, Ben offered a hand, which Cully shook with an elbow-shattering fervour. "Very pleased to meet you, Cully," said Ben.
"Likewise," she said. "Nice suit, though I like Lyle's slinkies better."
"Ben looks great in anything or nothing," said Lyle, hitching up a strap that'd slipped off his shoulder. "But he favours me in a baggy coat. I'm trying to be more conventional for him, so I don't frighten the wedding registrar with my fins poking out, or go viral on his interweb thingy—which does sound nasty. His family are visiting this week to finalize the wedding plans, and he's already losing sleep over how to break the news about my fishy bits."
"Oh, I see." Cully's demeanour hardened, stirring Ben's mistrust. "Human marriages present endless troubles for folk like us. It's one of the many reasons I avoid getting tied down. Hey, are you guys nearly done with this place? I want some sea air."
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