by Ruby Dixon
“Oh no,” I murmur, with another sexy little bite of my lip that catches his gaze. “Maybe I’ll just let you hear how wet I am.” I wiggle my eyebrows and then sit up on my knees, undoing the button on my jeans. I slip one hand inside my panties and then slick my fingers through my folds. In the quiet of the bathroom, the movement is obscenely noisy. I’m soaking with need, and I love the way his eyes flare when he hears it.
“Are you going to finger yourself while I stroke my cock?” he asks, his eyes the most vibrant shade of gold.
“Something like that.” I turn around, though, and present my jeans-covered ass to him.
He reaches for me, his fingers going immediately for the cleft between my thighs and gliding between them.
I’m not prepared for how good even that touch feels. Blunted by the denim separating us, I knew it wouldn’t be as good as his fingers would be if they were buried deep in my pussy, but the heightened sexiness of this moment is making me crazy with need. With a whimper, I lean forward and press my cheek to the blanket spread on the floor. My ass is in the air, and I spread my thighs apart even wider as I sink my fingers deep into my heat.
Liam gives a low, feral growl at the sight. “Mine.”
That’s the only warning I get before I feel him grab my hips and pull me back. His big cock drags against the denim of my jeans, then prods at my core as if he can somehow tear through the fabric and sink deep. I moan as he thrusts against me and my fingers skate to my clit instead, rubbing it frantically.
“Atalim,” I pant. “God, yes. Push against me.”
“Say my name,” he growls, utterly demanding. “Again.” And then he thrusts against me once more.
“Atalim!” I cry out, and then I say it over and over again as he grinds against me, pushing against my jeans with every hard thrust of his cock. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt and it makes me crazy with lust even as it fills me with yearning. I want him deep inside me, filling up this hollow ache as my pussy clenches and clenches on nothing at all.
He gives a feral snarl, wedging the head of his cock against my core and thrusting hard. Wet heat scorches against my clothing, making me jerk as I realize he’s coming all over my backside. The denim burns my skin, just enough to make me gasp, but my fingers are working so intently against my clit that I don’t even care. I come with a little cry of my own a short moment later, rubbing and rubbing to pull every bit of pleasure from that orgasm that I can. When I can’t touch myself any longer, I make a little whimpering sound and then sigh, closing my eyes.
Liam’s hands are still clenched tight around my hips. His body still trembles against mine, and I realize belatedly that the hard length of him is still pressed between my thighs, as if he belongs there.
I lift my head and look back at him. “Liam? Atalim?”
I’m shocked at the sight of him. Normally his eyes are filled with that vibrant, delicious gold, but when I look back, I can’t see them in the shadows. It takes me a moment to realize they’re almost entirely black, and the hands digging into my hips are clenching me tight.
“Liam?” I say again, because maybe hearing his human name will jar him out of this.
His lips part, and I’m surprised to see his fangs look longer than ever. They drag against his lower lip, and then quickly retract. A split second later, gold bleeds into his eyes and he blinks—
And then jerks away from me, pacing. His hand goes to his brow and he groans deep.
“Are you okay?” I ask, sitting up. My jeans are hot and sticking to me with his release, and the smell of sex is thick in the air.
He laughs and gives a shake of his head. “Fine.”
LIAM
The humans have a saying—playing with fire.
I thought it was a foolish statement, but the longer I am around Andrea, the wiser it seems. Playing with fire? I am absolutely doing so. I am skating a thin line when I hold her close to me as she sleeps. The line grows ever thinner when I press my mouth to her neck, imagining my fangs there as I give her my fires.
I do not sleep. The very real need to protect the female at my side grows daily. Is she my mate or am I simply imagining her to be so? How do I know that I won’t sink my teeth into her throat, claim her as mine, and regain both halves of myself easily?
I don’t know that. Perhaps all of this is just misery I put myself through…but I can’t bring myself to make that jump. Not yet.
I want Andrea. I want her badly. But I might not be myself if I let down my mental walls. Instead of claiming her as my mate, I could destroy her.
So I hold her close and do nothing at all, and feel my control slipping away with every day that passes and she is near. The smart thing would be to take her back to Fort Shreveport and leave her behind. Never return. Find a new place to live, a new name to assume, and continue to lurk in the shadows, where no one will notice yet another silent stranger.
But I can’t. Even the thought of leaving Andrea’s side tears me apart.
I will stay with her until it destroys me or she asks me to leave. There is no other choice.
13
LIAM
Andrea crouches at my side as we hide behind the twisted metal hulk of one of the cars that line the old streets. I can feel her trembling next to me, but I don’t know if it’s from fear or anger. “Is that him?” she asks, her voice a low whisper. She’s got her gun in her arms, and she fingers it as if waiting for a chance to use it.
“It is,” I tell her, and put a hand on her shoulder just in case she has a mind to go leap out and confront the man.
It’s taken an entire afternoon of tracking to hunt down the scent of the male that was outside the restaurant. We left early this morning once the rains cleared, and Benny’s scent mingled with this man’s as we went along. There was no fear scent, I tell Andrea, and even the rain can’t hide the fact that Benny’s scent was paired with this man’s, equally. They walked side by side when they traveled, so Benny went willingly. His scent doesn’t disappear from the ground as if he was carried. This is good, I told Andrea, and was happy to see her bright smile of relief.
But when we found the male in a field, throwing a ball with a black and brown four-legged creature, Andrea’s demeanor changed. Benny wasn’t with the stranger, and she pulled out her gun and clutched it close. As she crouches at my side, I worry that she’s going to bolt and attack the male.
I don’t care if he dies, but I do care if she gets hurt.
Plus, I can’t figure out what he’s doing.
I watch the man from afar, squinting as if that will possibly help me figure out his actions. He laughs at the black-and-brown creature, whistling and snapping his fingers. The thing bounds back toward him, a bright orange object in its mouth. It dances around in front of him in some sort of aggressive distraction tactic, then drops the orange object on the ground. The man says something, picks up the orange object, and flings it through the air. For a moment, I think he’s distracting the creature so he can make a getaway and tense, ready to spring and stop him. Except…he doesn’t move. He just waits, hands on hips, as the creature bounds through the tall grass in the nearby field and then brings the object back to him once more.
They do this several times, and I look down at Andrea. “Can he not figure out that the creature will keep returning if he throws it?”
She looks up at me, startled, and her mouth twitches. “Babe. That’s his dog. He’s playing fetch.”
“Babe?” I echo, my brows furrowing. “Do you refer to me?”
Her cheeks flush and she gives me a bold look despite the color in her face. “It’s a term of endearment. If I call you by your real name, you’re gonna get a massive boner and we need to stay focused. Unless you’d rather I call you Liam?”
A term of endearment? I grunt, considering this. I hate the name Liam, but she’s not wrong—if she calls me by my full name, I probably will feel the need to throw her down to the ground and rut all over her jeans-clad bottom like we did last night
. Even the memory of that makes my cock stiffen, because it was so good.
Too good. I did not tell her, but I came very close to losing control. I can’t let that happen again—what we did was amazing, but it can’t happen regularly. Not until I figure out how to rebuild my crumbling shields and strengthen my mind.
“Babe is fine,” I decide. “And what is a dog?”
“It’s a companion animal. People used to keep them for companionship back before the Rift. Once it hit, most of the pets disappeared. People didn’t have the food to feed themselves, much less an animal. It’s kind of nice to see one again.” Her expression grows soft. “I had a dog as a kid. He didn’t survive the Rift, either.”
A dog. I consider the creature as it bounds forward again, returning the orange thing once more. I wonder why the man and creature keep doing the strange toss-and-retrieve game. Can he not figure it out?
“Is Benny around?” Andrea whispers, turning toward me.
I shake my head. “His scent continues down the road. The man’s does, too, but he’s clearly here.” I gesture at him in the nearby field, and then study him as I would any other male human—looking for weaknesses, and for weapons. He has a leather belt that hangs off his hip and has something metal holstered there. A gun, I bet. I’m not familiar with all the shapes and sizes of human weapons, but I know they’re fond of the fire-spitting ones. He wears jeans like my Andrea does, and a white shirt with no sleeves. His arms are bare, showing black drawings tracing up and down his arms. He wears a baseball cap like I do, but the hair sticking out of the back is a dark jet black that flicks against his neck.
He doesn’t smell like Benny, either. That worries me, that her brother’s scent is nowhere near this man.
“What should we do?” she asks, looking over at me.
I consider the man in the field for a moment and then look down the road. “The scent continues that way,” I indicate. “And there’s a lot of scents in that direction, some of them old, some newer. They might have a settlement there, and that might be where Benny is.”
“Raiders,” Andrea agrees, her mouth thinning out with displeasure. She looks over at the man as he throws the orange toy again, and hesitates. “Should we charge in, then? Or try to befriend this one?”
I have two minds to this. The old Liam, the one that’s been in hiding for the last seven long years, would suggest talking to the male and getting information about their encampment. Feigning injury or sickness to be brought into the encampment is another possibility.
But the Atalim with a sensual, beautiful female at his side? A female that isn’t covered in mating scent? He wants to rip the male’s throat out and charge into the camp by force.
So I say nothing, unable to decide. Instinct wars with sense, and I’m frozen, unable to think clearly. I don’t like the sight of this male so close to where Andrea is. I don’t like that she’s not wearing my mark, and that the scent of my seed has been scrubbed out of her jeans. She should be covered in my scent, wearing me all over her like the humans wear the floral scents they love so much.
“Right. I’ll take the lead here,” she murmurs, pats my knee, and then stands up. “Hello?”
I freeze just as the man does. Hot darkness rushes through my thoughts, and instinct slams into me. I grab ahold of the car frame in front of me so I don’t grab Andrea and drive her to the ground, sinking my fangs into her throat to claim her before this other male can. I hold it tight as the male turns, his hand going to the weapon at his waist, and the dog at his side rushes forward, tail wagging.
“Who’s there?” the man calls, and I want to grab Andrea when she steps forward.
But I can’t do that to her. She’s not mine.
Slowly, I unclench my muscles, trying to fight through the rage battering at my thoughts as Andrea strides across the road toward the man. She has a hand in the air, her gun lowered.
“Hi stranger,” she calls out brightly. “My friend and I are looking for someone. Can you help us out?”
The man looks over at me, then at Andrea, and I can practically see his eyes flicker with hunger as he gazes at her. She is a beautiful female, all long legs and golden braid, and he’s noticing the sway of her hips as she strides forward.
The car frame bends in my hands as I clutch it, groaning.
Andrea pauses, looking over at me in worry. “You okay, Liam?”
I manage a nod. The man waits, several feet away from her. His hand hovers near his gun for a moment longer, and then drops away as his dog rushes toward my female, circling her excitedly, tail wagging back and forth.
She smiles at me and then drops to her knees to pet the dog. “Hi, puppy! Look at you! What a pretty boy.” Her voice is unnaturally sweet, gushing with enthusiasm as she speaks to the animal.
“His name’s Scooter,” the man says.
Andrea laughs, pleasure in her voice, and I can feel my eyes going black with jealousy. No, Atalim, I remind myself. Calm. She is not your mate, and he is just another human. They are everywhere.
But…I want to rip this one’s throat out for looking at her.
“What a fierce name,” she murmurs as she rubs the dog’s ears, a wide smile on her face.
The man chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, I think it should be obvious that he’s not much of a guard dog. My name’s Gabe. Where’re ya’ll from?”
She turns her smile up to him as I move stiffly forward, sliding my sunglasses over my eyes as I do so this male won’t see how odd they are. “I’m Andi, and this is Liam. We’re from Fort Shreveport, and we’re hunting my brother Benny. He’s about fourteen. Have you seen him?”
The man—Gabe—looks surprised. “That’s your brother? He told me he was an orphan.”
Andrea gets to her feet, giving the dog one last caress. “I’m about to be the orphan because I’m going to murder his little lying ass when I find him.”
Gabe throws his head back and laughs, clearly pleased with Andrea’s response. He gives her an appreciative look that makes the fire in my belly surge, and hot jealousy courses through me. I storm forward to her side, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. It takes everything I have not to bare my teeth at this man, because I know from experience that I can’t show my fangs until they’re used to the sight of me.
But the male only smirks in my direction, nodding acknowledgement. He sees me claiming my female.
Andrea glances over at me, but her focus returns to the other man. I can feel the tension in her body. “Where is he? Is he all right?”
The man just gives us a half-smile. "If you're looking for Benny, you've missed him by about two days."
"Two days?" Andrea exclaims, and I can feel her sag against me. She looks up at me in distress. "How are we so far behind?"
"I take it you've been chasing him for a while?" Gabe kneels and his dog goes to his side, tail wagging with excitement. He puts a hand on the beast and continues to watch us. I notice his gaze skates over to me several times, with wariness. He's far more welcoming to my Andrea, which just makes my protectiveness surge.
He can't have her. My fingers tighten in the fabric of her shirt as I hold her close.
She puts a hand on my chest and pats me, as if to acknowledge my reaction. "I have to hand it to Benny, he's determined. Can you tell us where he went?"
"Maybe," the man says. "But how do I know you are who you say you are? Lots of unsavory people out there would love to get their hands on a kid."
"Which is why I'm hunting him down," she says angrily, her fists clenching.
I'm secretly pleased by her irritation at this man. I move to comfort her when the wind shifts and a new scent rises in the air—a dragon. Female. And close.
Just as I stiffen, Gabe looks over at me, his eyes narrowing. He scans the skies and then pulls out a black pair of tubes, raising them to his eyes and looking through them. "Did you see her?"
"See who?"
"There's a dragon that's in love with this area,
" Gabe says, still pushing those tubes to his eyes and looking up at the sky. "It's about time for her to swing by and say hello. I was out here…well, never mind why I'm out here. I should head back in to camp if she's about to show up. You're welcome to join us and sit down for a meal."
Andrea looks over at me, uncertainty on her face. "What do you think?"
I lean in close, my mouth brushing against her hair. My lips caress over her ear and for a moment, I'm lost in her scent. The possessive need nearly swallows me and I clench her tight. I force myself to pay attention. The need to claim her, to cover her with my scent, is nearly overwhelming, but I force myself to focus. "There is a female dragon. He's not wrong. But I will follow your lead."
Gabe calls out to us, "I give you my word you won't be hurt at our camp. It's just me and a few of the guys."
That sounds ominous to me, but Andrea tosses her braid and gives the male a defiant look. " Liam and I can take care of ourselves."
Pride surges at her ferocity. I love that she is telling this male she is not afraid of him. She holds onto me and I realize she feels protected in my arms, and my drakoni side, the one I fight so hard to keep under control, surges, too.
If we're going to be staying with these humans for a time, I need to get under control. I allow myself to nuzzle Andrea one last time, pressing my lips to her brow. "I will follow your lead."
And then I release her. I have to, or else I'm going to destroy everything in sight.
14
ANDI
We walk through the old city streets, Liam at my side, Gabe and his dog a few paces ahead of us. Despite his possessive show in front of Gabe earlier, the moment we head out, he puts some distance between us. I can’t help but watch him out of the corner of my eye and notice that he’s a little twitchier than usual, and I think about what he said about losing control. Something tells me that behind his sunglasses, his eyes are probably darker than they should be.