Fire in His Veins: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Romance (Fireblood Dragons Book 6)

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Fire in His Veins: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Romance (Fireblood Dragons Book 6) Page 8

by Ruby Dixon

“What?” Liam’s immediately at my side, his arm at my waist. “What is it, Andrea?”

  For some reason, I smell smoke. I jerk away from him, and even in the shadows, I can see a curl of smoke escaping one of his nostrils. “Are you okay?”

  “What is it? What’s wrong? What are you afraid of?” He moves closer to me again, and his eyes are dark as pitch. “Liam?”

  “Andrea,” he warns, and his voice is thick with frustration. “Tell me what frightens you so I can fix it.”

  I’m utterly shocked by his appearance. Did I ever think Liam was benign? Invisible? Good at hiding? Because clearly I’ve been wrong all this time. The man at my side is all threatening menace, smoke wisping from his flaring nostrils. His eyes are black, his big hands curled at his side in fists. His shoulders are hunched forward, as if it’s taking all of his energy to hold back from losing his shit.

  He looks…scary. Gone is low-energy, easy-going Liam. In its place is a drakoni warrior.

  And for the first time, I realize just how alien he is.

  “Liam,” I say, keeping my voice soft as I put a hand in the air. “Everything’s all right. I was just startled.”

  “By. What.” The words are gritted out through his sharp teeth.

  I grimace, because I’m going to have to explain it and then be embarrassed, but it’s better than watching him Hulk out. “By a dildo. I think this is a sex shop.”

  Some of the fury shuddering through him bleeds away, and the smoke stops curling from his nose. His nostrils twitch. “A what?”

  “It’s, ah, a big fake dick that you can fuck, if you’re so inclined.” I wave him forward and then point to it through the glass. “And call me crazy, but I think that other junk is stuff you shove up your butt.”

  My face feels like it’s never going to stop burning from the awkwardness of this conversation.

  Liam peers at the objects through the glass, and then he sets his hands down, palms flat. I’m relieved to see that, as well as the easing of the tension in his shoulders. “That would explain the smells,” he says, voice oddly calm.

  Smells? Oh right, he mentioned seed. Stupid me, I’d thought he’d meant for growing crops. He meant jizz. Ugh. I wipe my hand on my jeans, a little horrified at the thought. “You smell seed?”

  “A lot of it. From many different males.”

  “Oh, that is so gross. Here?” I snatch my hands back from the counter and wipe them on my clothes again.

  He lifts his head, and his eyes are bleeding back to gold, slowly. Liam waves a hand toward the back of the store. “Moreso in that direction. You…you frightened me, Andrea.” He runs a hand down his face. “I thought…never mind. It isn’t important.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I was just startled by the sight of that big thing in the glass. I didn’t realize how you’d react. I’ll try not to flip my lid next time.”

  “Next time?” he asks, and his voice is full of amusement.

  “Well, I hope we don’t run into a lot of dildos in the future, but you know what I mean.” I move toward the back of the store and use the hem of my shirt to turn one of the doorknobs. I peer inside, and there’s an old couch in front of a projector screen, and a sink against the back wall.

  Fucking gross. I shut the door again. I don’t care how bad the apocalypse is, I am not touching that couch.

  Liam’s still standing by the counter, a curious expression on his face as I check each of the other doors and yup, each one is another private movie room and I’m not going anywhere near them. Liam smelled seed, after all, so I’m guessing cleanliness wasn’t high on the list of chores at this place. Nasty, nasty, nasty. I check out the rest of the place and it still has running water (which is nice), but the bathroom is a pit. Luckily there’s a small employee breakroom that looks cleaner than the rest of the place, and when I poke around under the counter, I find a few old bottles of water. You’re not supposed to drink them after the expiration date, but fuck it. I break the seal on one and chug it down. If I live through an apocalpyse and bottled water kills me, I figure I was done for anyhow.

  The breakroom seems the cleanest option, so I grab a broom out of the closet and sweep up. There are two flimsy plastic chairs that wobble when I try to sit on them, but we’ll need someplace to sleep. I eye the floor, then go scavenging again. I find a roll of black trash bags and some masking tape in a supply closet. Score. I tear the bags open and make a hasty tarp of sorts, then tape it down to the floor. When I’m done, I’ve got an entire corner covered up and it actually looks fairly clean. Pleased, I go and sit down on the ground and cross my legs, pulling my bag into my lap.

  Liam wanders in, leans against the doorframe and gives me an odd look. “Do you want to leave this place, Andrea?”

  “Leave? Why?” I shrug. “It’s gross, but it’s a roof and we’ve got running water. Like you said, we can stay here and then be on our way in the morning.”

  “You seemed…uncomfortable, that’s all.” He moves into the room and heads toward me, sitting down next to me and leaning against the wall. “Are you new to the ways of mating? Is that why you got shy?”

  I blink at him and at the curiously gentle tone in his voice. Does he think I’m a fragile flower because a glass buttplug and a big purple dildo startled me? “I got shy because it was unexpected and weird, not because I’m new to this sort of thing. I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No?”

  There’s something odd about the way he says that single word. I look over at him as I pull out a saran-wrapped corn cake from my bag and begin to unwrap it. “Yeah, no. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

  He’s quiet for a long moment, even after I break the cake in half and offer him one part. He doesn’t eat it, though. I nibble on mine, waiting for his eventual response, and he finally says, “Is there another male competing for your affections, then?”

  “Another?” I choke on the dry cake.

  Liam’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean, then?”

  “Nothing.” His mouth flattens and his eyes seem darker than before. “Just answer the question. Is there another male?”

  I make a faintly scoffing sound. “No. Who would I be hooking up with? There are no men at Fort Shreveport other than you and a few kids. And Grandpa Steve, but he’s definitely not my type, the old perv.” I shake my head. “Don’t be weird.”

  “I’m not being weird. There are many females with young back at your fort. It stands to reason that even if there are not males there now, there were some previously.”

  Oh. Okay, so that logic doesn’t sound totally crazy. But I know some of those are rape babies, and some are orphans, and some are just products of selling your body in an apocalypse where condoms all expired years and years ago. Shit happens. “No one left behind a husband when they came to the fort or they never would have joined us. We’re more of a haven for people that are sick of fort shit. And forts come with a lot of shit.” I gesture at the food he’s not eating. “Eat your cake. I don’t have many.”

  He hands it back to me. “You eat it, then.”

  “What are you going to eat?”

  Liam shrugs. “I can hunt. I did so before I arrived at your fort.”

  I think of Rast and his big golden body sailing through the skies as he hunted. “Um, I thought you said you couldn’t shift forms?”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t things to eat. A male can hunt even in two-legged form.” The smile he sends my way is slightly arch, as if he knows a secret I don’t.

  I’ve never seen Liam use a weapon, though I know he carries them. Something tells me that it’s another “blending” thing he does to fit in. I try to imagine Liam hunting, crouching and leaping in his “two-legged” form as he calls it. And for some reason, I think of the enormous vermin crawling all over the city. I look over at him in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t eat rats.”

  He snorts with amusement.


  “We can’t be friends anymore if you’re a rat eater.”

  “I ate no rats.” His mouth curves in the barest of smiles and he leans in closer to me. “Is that what we are, then? Friends?”

  Tension practically swims in the air around us. I feel strange, like I’m standing on the precipice of a dangerous cliff and I should step back, when all I really want to do is fling myself over. “I thought we were friends,” I whisper.

  “Do you kiss all your friends?” His eyes are still whirling so dark.

  “I haven’t kissed anyone but you,” I admit quietly. “Not in years and years.”

  The darkness bleeds out of his eyes almost instantly and a hint of a smile touches his face, a real smile. “Eat your food,” he says. “I’m not hungry. Drakoni can go days without eating and we prefer meat.” He leans in close, and the playful look returns to his face. “If I never have to eat another bowl of that oatmeal slop they serve at the fort, I’ll be a happy male.”

  I chuckle, giving my head a small shake with amusement. The oatmeal isn’t my favorite either, but while we have it, it feeds people. Unfortunately, we ran out last week and are forced to spread thin the few eggs we have…and corn cakes, of course. There’s tons of corn. I take another bite and sigh when he gets up and walks away.

  Being here alone with Liam is…confusing. We’ve been doing this push-pull dance for months, it seems. He got to the fort and skated under the radar for a long time. Then, we got close when Gwen left…and then I was the one that did the pushing away. Now we’re alone together and just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he gets up and walks away. His eyes were dark, which I’ve been told means that he’s feeling intense emotion (and not good emotions) and so I don’t know what to think.

  Is he jealous? Does he think that’s why I pushed him away at the fort? Because there was someone else?

  I haven’t wanted anyone to touch me in years. But with Liam… I eat the corn cake slowly, even though it doesn’t do much for my hunger, and then brush my fingers over my lips, remembering how his mouth felt. I want him to kiss me again, but maybe I shouldn’t.

  Maybe a drakoni is just too different from human. Ironic, because Amy and Gwen are mated to drakoni males, but Liam’s not like their men. He’s different. Sometimes he seems like any other man in the After, and sometimes he seems like he’s about to lose control and go wild.

  It’s a mystery…and one that I hate I’m totally attracted to. I should like simple, easy things. I should like being solitary and single after the hell of Fort Tulsa, but…I like being with Liam. I like being with him far too much. It makes me want more.

  9

  ANDI

  As I finish eating, I hear Liam moving around the store. I don't get up, because I can only imagine what he's thinking as he wanders through the shelves of old porn videos, dildos, and god knows what else. Edible underwear? I wonder if those are still good. If so, I might have to snag some to munch on. In theory, it's just…candy, right?

  Boy, Benny would laugh his ass off if he knew his sister was eating edible underwear.

  A wave of loneliness moves over me and I suddenly miss my little brother so much that I ache. Benny's all I have. I think of his sharp face, so recently moved away from the chubbiness of childhood. His sly laugh and the way he grins and shows off that broken tooth when he's truly amused. He's a good kid. He's just…bored and miserable. That's why he acts out. Maybe I'm wrong to chase him down and bring him back. Maybe I should be escorting him to someplace that will make him happy, someplace where he can be around other men and boys his age and not feel like an outsider in a fort full of women.

  But…Fort Dallas isn't that place. If anything, I still need to find him and make sure he gets somewhere safe.

  "Andrea?"

  I look up as Liam comes back into the break room and drops himself next to me. He's got a few tubes in his hands and shows one to me. "Is this food?" He pulls the cap off and squeezes the tube, and pink gel oozes down the side and onto his hands.

  I read the writing on one of the tubes in his lap. Lubricant. Oh Jesus. "Um, no, not really."

  "No? It smells like fruit." He sniffs the gel sliding down the back of his hand and wrinkles his nose. "Rotten fruit, perhaps, but it does smell like food. Is this bait of some kind, then? To trap animals?"

  Awkward. "So that's, uh, for sex, actually."

  He looks over at me in surprise. "Sex?"

  "Yeah, it's for making a woman wet enough to take a cock without pain." The words come out of my throat a little strangled. "It's supposed to make things better for her."

  Liam's lip curls and he looks down at the gel and then at me. "Your males would take a female without her being wet and ready?"

  I lick my lips, trying to figure out the best way to respond. "Dragon people don't, ah, mate even if the female isn't all that into it?" His disgusted look tells me everything. "All right, so yeah, human men are a little different, I guess. The nice ones make sure the girl is into it, but not everyone does. And sometimes some women just can't get wet enough, I guess, or maybe his dick's too big and she's too small…" And dear lord, my face feels like an inferno right now because I'm picturing his dick and how well-built he is. He would definitely need to lube a female up unless she was soaking wet with arousal.

  And now I'm picturing him all over a woman, making sure she's hot and wet and ready, and my thighs squeeze a little tighter together. This is the wrong conversation to have, especially with the sexual tension between the two of us already. "So…how do dragon men get a lady into bed?"

  He wipes his hand off on his clothes, disgusted. "Not like this. A drakoni female is just as ready for mating as any male. She challenges him and if he bests her in a battle, she shifts back to her two-legged form and submits to him. It is very arousing for a female to be bested by a stronger male, because she knows he is strong enough to protect their young." He sniffs his hand again, his nostrils flaring at the scent of the lube that perfumes the air around us. "A drakoni male would never try to mate with a female that did not demonstrate that she was ready."

  "So if she fights, that means she's horny?" I ask. "I guess that's like flirting, or kissing for your people. We're different. Some women might be interested in mating, but maybe the body doesn't respond like it should." I've been there. I've had unpleasant sex in the past just because it was easier than making a fuss or fighting back. A few minutes of dry, invasive grinding was worth being left alone. I hate thinking about that time in my life, though. "Some men don't care if she wants it or not."

  Liam just shakes his head. He puts the cap on the tube of lube and tosses it aside as if its mere presence irritates him. "So your human men are this bad at pleasing their mates?"

  I can feel my mouth twitch with amusement. "I guess some are, yeah."

  "This both pleases me and makes me sad for your race."

  I nudge him with my shoulder. "Why does bad sex make you happy?"

  He looks over at me, his expression arch and somewhat arrogant. "Because it tells me that the competition is weak."

  "Are you competing?" My breath catches in my lungs.

  His gaze gets heated, focuses on my mouth. "I shouldn't. I can't."

  But I think we both know he is. I'm suddenly very aware of his nearness, the heat of his body, and the fact that we're sitting so close that it wouldn't take much to move over and be in his lap. To have his big arms around me and tucking me against him, our breath mingling like it did the other day and…

  I shouldn't be thinking of things like that. I should be focused on Benny and Benny alone. Flirting with Liam won't lead anywhere good.

  But he's staring at me, too, and his eyes are growing more and more gold by the moment, until they're practically a deep, rich amber that makes me get all squirmy at the sight of them. "No male," he says slowly, his gaze locked on me, "should touch a female if he can't smell her cunt sopping with heat."

  His words take my breath away. Smell her cunt sopping with heat? Oh my god. "
You—you can smell that?"

  "I can."

  I squeeze my thighs tighter together, as if that will somehow fix the ache deep between them. I want to ask if he can smell anything right now, but I don't dare. I know I'm turned on. I know if I slid my hand into my panties, my pussy would be slippery and aching, my folds hot and puffy with need.

  I wonder if he can smell me right now.

  Before I can ask, his mouth curls into a heart-stopping smile. "Oh yeah, I can."

  Oh, dear lord. I make a strangled sound in my throat as his gaze focuses on my mouth. My lips are parted and I'm panting, just a little, with the hot need curling through me.

  "I want to kiss you again," Liam murmurs. He tosses his baseball cap aside.

  "Okay," I breathe out, because even though this is trouble, I want it, too.

  He leans in close, and I tilt my face up. Instead of putting his mouth on my lips, though, he rubs his nose against mine and murmurs, “If you were my mate, your cunt would be a river before I sank my cock into you. I would make sure of it.”

  I whimper.

  “I would press my lips to your skin and taste you everywhere.” His breath fans hot over my face as I whimper, but he continues. “Explore those pretty breasts of yours until your nipples ache. I wouldn’t use my hands, either. They’re too big and rough to do anything other than hold you down…unless you’d like that.” His hot gaze meets mine. “If you did, I’d pin your hands above your head so you can’t squirm away, and then I’d lick you all over. My tongue would glide all over that pretty cunt of yours until you were begging for me to conquer you, Andrea. I’d taste you and if you weren’t wet enough, I’d lick you over and over, until you soaked my mouth and my face with your pleasure. Only then would I give you my cock, Andrea. Only then.”

  Oh god. My nipples are so hard that they ache. Goosebumps cover my skin, and I can’t move. I’m mesmerized by the erotic picture he’s painting.

  His eyes blaze into mine and then he inhales…and groans. “Your scent,” he murmurs, sliding a hand behind the back of my neck. “It’s been driving me wild for weeks.”

 

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