Arrested by the Dragon: Gay Police Paranormal Romance

by Clearwater, Julian

  “I told Celia it wasn’t a good idea,” Zane continued. “She was pretty pissed at me after that, wanted to know why I thought Martha wasn’t your type. A bunch of, ‘What, my best friend isn’t good enough for your best friend’ bullshit.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not the case,” Cyrus said, clearing his throat. Damn, when would that pool table be ready? This conversation was traveling on that path that was as imminent as it was dangerous. Everything would change.

  “Course not,” Zane said. “I mean, Martha’s not a dude. She’s not your type at all.”

  Cyrus choked on his beer. “Wait, what?”

  Zane laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’m not an idiot, I can tell. It’s cool, man. My little brother is gay. It’s not a big deal at all, but I could also tell you were building it up in your head.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Cyrus said.

  “Just say cheers to friendship.”

  Zane held his pint up for a clink, and Cyrus obliged him.

  “Cheers,” Cyrus said. “Wow, I feel better. Thanks for helping with that.”

  “No problem. Greg, my brother, told me how hard it can be sometimes, especially with coworkers. So we’re cool, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re cool.”

  The pool table became available and they got up to play. Between each shot, Cyrus was aware of Mark’s gaze on him. He tried to ignore the heat he felt zinging straight to his groin at every glance, but Mark was impossible to ignore. The dim bar lights shone on Mark’s blond hair, and something about the angle made the soft cleft in Mark’s chin stand out more. It made Cyrus want to bite him there, just a little nip of affection.

  Cyrus missed his next shot entirely, and Zane laughed.

  “Either I’m really improving,” Zane said, “or you’re off your game tonight.”

  “I’m off my game,” Cyrus said. Then, realizing he sounded like an ass, he added, “But you’re also improving.”

  “Ha.” Zane cleared his throat. “Incoming.”

  “Incoming?” Cyrus turned, and there was Mark, right behind him.

  “So I owe you a thank-you,” Mark said.

  Cyrus stared at him.

  “And maybe a phone call,” Mark added.

  Cyrus couldn’t help his grin. “Well, there’s that whole line from Speed about relationships being based on intense experiences, how they never work.”

  Mark smirked. “You remember the rest, right?”

  Cyrus spared a quick glance at Zane, who was studiously looking away from them, busy with the last gulp from his pint glass.

  “We just have to base it on sex,” Cyrus said.

  The way Mark was looking at him, those bright blue eyes full of promise, had every part of Cyrus heating up. It felt good—it felt damn good. His eyes, even, he could feel them shifting, narrowing in on Mark and everything that Mark promised.

  “You okay?” Mark asked. “Your expression is just…”

  He looked predatory, he was sure. Cyrus did his best to straighten his features to a blander expression.

  “Sorry,” Cyrus said. “I’m fine, really, just had a thought.”

  “You looked wicked,” Mark said, but he was smiling.

  “Annnnd that’s my cue to go,” Zane said, pushing in to shake Mark’s hand. “I’m his buddy Zane, but I’m sure my wife is missing me. And if she’s not, too damn bad because I’m going home.”

  Mark shook Zane’s hand. Cyrus said goodbye to Zane. “Thanks, man, for bringing me out tonight.”

  Zane smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You just didn’t know what was good for you.”

  “It means a lot.” Cyrus wasn’t just talking about Mark—although that was a good portion of his gratitude. He was also talking about Zane’s acceptance. The world had a long way to go to really be a fair place, but with more people like Zane, life was easier.

  Cyrus turned back to the table he’d been sharing with Zane. Mark was sitting there now, an expectant look on his face.

  “Where do we go from here?” Mark asked.

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Cyrus grinned. “Don’t go anywhere—I’ll be right back.”

  He couldn’t believe his luck as he made his way over to the bar. Mark, here. Mark, interested in him! Mark, waiting at a table with his blue eyes all swoony and giving off lustful scents.

  Cyrus got their drinks quickly and rushed back to the table. “So, you know I’m a firefighter for the Prospect station. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

  Mark clinked his glass to Cyrus’s. “First, cheers. To new prospects in Prospect.”

  Cyrus couldn’t help the laughter that came forward. When was the last time he’d felt so at ease with someone?

  Mark shook his head. “Too cheesy?”

  “Not at all. It was perfect. You’re perfect. How’d you end up in a little place like Prospect, Colorado?”

  “Bad luck?” Mark laughed. “Just kidding. I really like it here. My brother, Eli, he always wanted to live in a small town when he settled down. First he had to be a hero, but he always said that when it was time to find a wife and settle down to raise kids, he was going to point his finger at a random spot in the middle of a United States map. Wherever his finger came down, he’d make sure the town was at least fifty miles from a large city. And that’s where he’d go.” Mark shook his head, as if remembering. “There were other ridiculous things, too. He wanted to be near the mountains or a lake. He wanted the town to have at least one decent Chinese restaurant. And if at all possible, he wanted the town to have a name that sounded promising.”

  Cyrus took a sip of his beer. “That sounds like Prospect. We’re in the mountains. Chiang’s has great Chinese cuisine. And then there’s the name, Prospect.”

  Mark nodded. “It’s perfect, right?”

  “It is. But all this is about Eli. What about you?”

  “Eli died too soon,” Mark said.

  Shit, Cyrus hated seeing Mark sad. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, it’s really not, but I’m learning to deal with it. One of the things I did was choose a new place to live, and I decided to use Eli’s search method.”

  “A good way to honor your brother.”

  “It’s not enough,” Mark said, “but it’s something.”

  He looked so sad, there, his bright blue eyes swimming in unshed tears. He held his glass with both hands, as if trying to anchor himself to the table.

  “Is it okay to ask—how he died?” Cyrus asked.

  “The Dragon Floods.” Mark’s voice turned bitter. “We were both living in California, but we were up in the Sierras, far from any flooding. But Eli couldn’t stand it that people were getting swept out to sea in tsunamis and floods. He couldn’t stand it that people were drowning. So he traveled to the coast to help out. He was a helicopter pilot. While on one of his rescue missions, a sudden wave came up. It was dark—they couldn’t see it—and the chopper went down. Once the water receded, they found Eli’s helicopter. They flew the body back for me to identify.”

  “It sounds horrible,” Cyrus said. His kin had done this to the humans. While he’d missed flying with his dragon kin every day since he’d left, he had disagreed with them on the floods. The strike had been preemptive and, in Cyrus’s opinion, uncalled-for.

  But nobody had asked Cyrus’s opinion. He was one of the lesser dragons—when he’d left their new home on the northern ice cap, he hadn’t even been missed.

  “I hate those dragons,” Mark said. His blue eyes were full of hatred. “They took my brother away from me. I’m glad we nuked the lot of them.”

  So there it was. Cyrus had thought Mark was perfect. And in fact, Mark was perfect. It was Cyrus and his dragon blood that were the problem.

  Mark

  Mark gulped a small sip of his beer, more for something to do than for any actual thirst. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so intense.”

  �
��No problem.”

  But something was wrong—Cyrus didn’t look as open or happy as he’d looked when they first started talking. Mark groaned inwardly. He was always getting too intense. He was too hung up on Eli’s death, even five years later, to be in a relationship. Wasn’t this what he kept telling Jenny?

  “Really,” Cyrus said, putting a warm hand on Mark’s arm. “You have every right to get intense about your brother’s death. The Dragon Floods were a hard time for everyone.”

  “True.” Mark took a shaky breath. “Jenny—that’s the curly-haired woman over there—says I need to work harder at getting over it. The acceptable brooding period has ended, she’s always saying.”

  “Me, I don’t think there’s an end date on grief,” Cyrus said.

  “You’ve lost someone, too.” Mark stared at the dark-haired, gray-eyed man before him. This muscular fireman oozed sensuality and made Mark’s cock spring to life, and even better, Cyrus understood Mark on a basic level. “You really get me.”

  “I do,” Cyrus said. “At least, I want to.”

  Mark stared at him. If Cyrus was even half as sincere as he looked, he could be the perfect guy. His gray eyes were mesmerizing, and the heat he exuded made Mark want to get sweaty and naked.

  “I’m not usually so forward,” Mark said, “but I want to sleep with you tonight.”

  A slow smile spread across Cyrus’s face. “Your place or mine?”

  “Well, seeing as how mine is currently being fixed after the fire…”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Cyrus said. “Where’ve you been staying?”

  “Jenny’s townhouse. And while she doesn’t mind me taking up her living room couch, and she probably wouldn’t mind you there, either…”

  “Right,” Cyrus said. “My place it is.”

  Mark felt his face opening in a smile. He was doing this—he was going home with a man! And not just any man, but Cyrus. He couldn’t explain what drew him to Cyrus, but it was more than just looks. Maybe memories of the night of the fire, when Cyrus had helped him down that ladder. He’d encouraged Mark despite Mark’s fear of heights, and he hadn’t made Mark feel silly at all for that fear. He’d been nothing but understanding.

  And he was freaking hot.

  Mark cleared his throat. “I’m going to finish my beer and introduce you to my friend Jenny over there, and her boyfriend James. Then I’m going to let you take me to your place where you may ravish me.”

  Cyrus laughed, and oh, Mark wished he could record it to listen to again and again on repeat. It was loud, throaty, and so sexy. That laugh could probably put Viagra out of business.

  ***

  The drive to Cyrus’s house was long, and wasn’t made any faster by the fact that it had started to snow. Mark started wondering just how far out of town Cyrus lived.

  “First snow of winter,” Mark said, trying to calm his nerves by talking.

  “Yeah. What’s your favorite season?” Cyrus asked.

  “Summer or fall. I like the heat.”

  “I do, too.”

  “That makes sense,” Mark said, “you being a fire fighter, and all.” He looked around at the interior of Cyrus’s truck. The cab was tidy, like it had just been detailed, and rock played quietly from the speakers. “Just how far out in the sticks do you live, anyway?”

  “We’ll be there soon,” Cyrus said, reaching over the console to squeeze Mark’s thigh. “I like my privacy, so I live a ways outside of Prospect.”

  “Seems so,” Mark said with a nervous laugh. He couldn’t believe he was doing this—going home with a near-stranger—but he knew he wouldn’t have a single regret. Something about Cyrus made him feel safe, safer than he’d felt in five years since the Dragon Floods.

  When they pulled in to the driveway of an upscale cabin-style home, Mark’s breath came out in a whoosh. “Wow.”

  “You like it?” Cyrus asked.

  “It’s amazing.” The “cabin” was huge and stretched back into the trees almost as if they were a blanket, protecting it. Or a cave, sheltering it. Subtle outdoor lighting illuminated the front yard and drive. Although the home itself was sided in natural-toned wood, stone seemed to be the predominant theme of the décor, with a wide, flagstone path, a rock wall bordering the drive, and the granite statue of a giant winged serpent emerging from a pool of water. Everything was covered in the purest white dusting of snow. “That’s some scary thing to have in a bird bath,” Mark said.

  Chuckling, Cyrus got out of the car and came around to get Mark’s door. “You want the tour?” he asked, helping Mark out like a gentleman.

  Mark stepped forward, leaning into Cyrus’s embrace. Next to Cyrus’s mouth, he whispered, “Maybe later.”

  The heat coming from Cyrus’s skin was intoxicating. Mark kept still, wishing he could rub his face against Cyrus’s neck, and wishing he were brave enough to move slightly to the left and take that first kiss.

  Cyrus moved first, his pace slow and controlled as he bent slightly to take Mark’s lips with his own. Lust and heat moved like fire through Mark’s veins. It was as if he’d lost control of his limbs because without thought he wrapped his arms around Cyrus’s waist and pulled him in closer. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips.

  “Want you. So bad,” Cyrus whispered.

  “I’m all yours,” Mark whispered back.

  Cyrus tugged him forward. “No tour, then. The only place I’m taking you is straight to my bedroom.”

  “Can’t wait,” Mark said.

  Once inside the house, the huge entryway and living room were shadowed blurs in Mark’s peripheral vision as he allowed Cyrus to lead him along. He kept his gaze on Cyrus’s porn star ass encased in jeans that were tight, but not too tight. Damn. Cyrus’s ass made him want to bite it, and maybe do some squats to improve his own ass.

  “Your ass is inspirational,” Mark said.

  Cyrus turned, smiling, and pushed Mark against the wall. “Your ass made it hard for me to walk down that ladder the other night. My face was right there.”

  “Oh yeah?” Mark asked. He didn’t have any brain power left for witty responses.

  “Yeah.” Cyrus leaned down and pressed his lips against Mark’s.

  Mark reached around, not for a hug, but to pull Cyrus toward him by his ass. He kneaded the perfect, muscular globes. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

  “Usually I’m a top. You?”

  “Versatile.”

  “Perfect.” Cyrus sank to his knees in front of Mark. “I’ve been wanting to put you in my mouth since I first met you.”

  It was hard to breathe, and Mark needed all of his concentration just to keep himself standing. He leaned back against the wall, which helped. Cyrus pulled open Mark’s belt, then unfastened Mark’s jeans. He reached in, his touch scorching, and ran his hand over Mark’s cock.

  Mark was already harder than ever, and he twitched in Cyrus’s hand. “Oh, God,” he moaned.

  “Nah, you can call me Cyrus.” Cyrus’s eyes twinkled up at him as he pulled Mark’s cock out of his boxers. When Cyrus stuck his tongue out and swiped it against the tip, Mark nearly came right then and there. “I know this cock,” Cyrus whispered. “I think I tasted it in my dreams.”

  Mark moaned again and leaned his head back against the wall as Cyrus took him in his hot mouth. That heat, that tongue wrapping around him, swirling against the underside of the head—Mark thought maybe he’d gone to heaven.

  Then Cyrus stood up. “Here or the bedroom?”

  “Uhhhh.” Mark shook his head, trying to concentrate. He was out of control with lust, and his brain was short-circuiting. Already he was making whimpering noises and futilely trying to push Cyrus back down to delivering on the promises his mouth had made.

  “Here it is, then,” Cyrus said with a grin. He pushed Mark’s pants down further, then unbuckled his own belt and shoved his own pants down.

  Mark felt his mouth drop open in surprise. “That will never fit,” he whispered.
r />   “Trust me,” Cyrus said. “You said you’re versatile?”

  “Shit, I don’t think—”

  “Relax, lover. We’ll go slow, and you’ll love it. But if at any time you want me to stop, we’ll stop.”

  Mark nodded, touched at the sweetness in Cyrus’s words.

  Cyrus grinned devilishly. “Besides, I promise you won’t want to stop.”

  Without a word, he took Mark’s face in his hands. Tenderly, like the dearest, most devoted lover. He pressed his lips to Mark’s in a way that called to something deep within Mark. Something beastly, something playful, something wicked. Mark gasped, kissing Cyrus back until he was panting again and clawing at Cyrus’s back.

  Without warning, Cyrus broke away and spun Mark around so Mark’s face was to the wall. Mark heard the clicking sound of a bottle of lube, then felt it trickle between his cheeks. Oh, no, this was it. That monster cock was going to be entering him and he didn’t think it would fit.

  Cyrus warmed him up with his fingers, first, and Mark groaned at the sensitivity there. With his other hand, Cyrus stroked Mark’s cock, and Mark’s hips thrust forward at the pleasure. Then back again, onto Cyrus’s fingers.

  They were both breathing heavily. Cyrus pressed another finger into him, and Mark cried out—not with pain, but with pleasure—and Cyrus gently bit his shoulder.

  “That’s it, lover. I know you can take more.”

  Mark felt his eyes rolling back into his head. It felt so good. And when Cyrus replaced his fingers with his cock, sheathed in a condom, Mark thought he’d pass out from the sensation. So full, so full. He was pinned in place. Cyrus penetrating him from behind, and circling his dick in front with his hand, slowly jacking him off in time to his thrusts.

  It wasn’t long before their thrusts got faster. Cyrus moved behind him rapidly, and Mark couldn’t stop himself from grunting from the pressure. It was building inside of him like a fire that had grown out of control. That beastly, large creature in Mark’s chest roared, and Mark roared with it as he came all over Cyrus’s hand. Two more thrusts, and Cyrus was pulsing inside of Mark, grunting as he pressed Mark into the wall.