by Abigail Owen
She whimpered.
“Good. Now come for me.”
The low command was all she needed. Lights exploded behind her closed eyes as her body went off like fireworks at New Year’s. Finn buried his head in her hair, as, at the same time, he came in her hand. Sensation burst through her in pulses that timed to his nimble fingers and her pumping hand until they both slowed, and she stilled in his arms.
Finally, when she’d caught her breath, she pulled her hand away and rolled to face him. “Who knew I had such a dirty mind?”
Finn chuckled. “I knew I had a dirty mind where you were concerned the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Keighan called out from the kitchen.
Was it just her imagination, or did his voice sound strained?
A giggle escaped her, and Delaney pressed her face into Finn’s chest to smother her mirth.
“Told you,” he murmured into her hair.
“So it would seem.” She rolled away to right her clothes. “I’m going to run upstairs to…freshen up.” And give the guys a chance to calm down.
“I’ll join you.”
Ten minutes later, cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes, they came down the stairs together. At the bottom of the steps, she squeaked as Finn stopped and pulled her into his arms, lowering his head for a long, hot kiss that pushed her buttons all over again.
He lifted his head and grinned. A full-on grin that lit up his eyes in a way that snatched the very breath from her lungs. This was the real Finn. “I can still smell me all over you. And it’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Knowing he felt that way made her even hotter. And more…invested.
Yeah. She was definitely in trouble. He’d told her the rules. Humans and dragons didn’t last. This was temporary.
And she was falling for this complicated, controlled…changing…man.
Chapter Nineteen
Finn tried to keep his mind focused, keep up surveillance of the winery tasting room and surrounding buildings. Titus and Aidan wandered the grounds and perimeter, checking in via cell phone regularly.
This place was busy on weekends, apparently. With the picnic benches along the stream so that families could enjoy their wine with a meal, a couple of food trucks, and the good weather, it made sense. Especially in the fall when the Apple Hill orchards drew guests to the area by the thousands each weekend. Delaney and Sera and the other employees were run off their feet.
The crowds presented a unique challenge in terms of keeping Delaney safe, but his bigger problem with his focus was the woman herself. Delaney stood behind the bar with Sera, smiling and chatting with every person she served. Her cheerful chatter brought people out of their shells, relaxing them. By the time they left, he’d bet money each felt like they’d made a friend.
Meanwhile, that warm sunshine scent of hers filled the room, and the feminine sound of her voice rolled through him. He’d smiled at her. Before. While they were on the couch and he’d learned how dirty her fantasy life wanted to be. He’d smiled, really smiled, and it’d felt like stretching a muscle that hadn’t been used in so long that it had shortened.
Was it possible to regain the part of himself he’d lost? Because he’d wanted to share it with her, despite it still being as uncomfortable as hell.
Sitting here thinking of all of that hadn’t helped. Not to mention that she was destroying him with the hot little glances she gave him over the heads of customers. Hours spent in a constant state of arousal couldn’t be good for anyone. And she knew. The secret smile tugging at her lips, the extra sway in those hips…how did women know when to turn that on?
He might’ve given one man who’d acted a tad too interested the stink eye. That guy had ended his tasting after only three wines. A fact that earned Finn a glare from Delaney, but he just shrugged. As soon as he got her home, he’d relieve this tension in the best way possible.
“Finn?”
He glanced her way at the sound of his name to find her watching him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?”
She cocked her head, that knowing twinkle in her eyes. Damn, he needed to get his head out of the sexual haze where he’d been all day. He’d never had this problem before. Not even with…
Guilt yanked that thought to a halt. Phoebe may not have been his destined mate, but he’d cared for her just the same. At least, he thought he had.
Delaney frowned, so he cleared his expression, pushing all memories of his former life from his mind.
“I need to go get another case of the Barbera from the stockroom.” She hitched a thumb in that direction.
“Right.” He texted Aidan and Titus, then followed her down the long hallway to the temperature-controlled room where bottles lay on their sides in crisscrossing shelves set up for this purpose.
He expected Delaney to grab a box and start filling it, but she didn’t. Instead, as soon as the door closed behind him, she stepped right up into him, close enough for him to absorb her heat. Close enough for her scent to fill his lungs and for him to track the fluttering pulse at the base of her neck.
But not close enough to touch the way he wanted to touch her.
Instead she tipped her head and trailed her gaze over his lips. “If I asked you to kiss me, what would you do?”
She waited, that knowing sparkle daring him.
He clenched his jaw, reaching for control. “What would Sera say? Aren’t you on the clock? Guests waiting to be served?”
“I think she’d say…” She went up on tiptoe, bringing her lips to hover close to his. All he had to do was lean forward. “Go for it.”
Screw professionalism. He’d been obsessed with touching her all day. He hauled her up against him, cupping her ass, grinding into her and smiling as she whimpered against his mouth. Damn she tasted amazing.
He was on the verge of saying the hell with it—with her job, his men, the customers—and taking her right here against the storage room door. Gods she felt good. He’d forgotten that a woman could feel this incredible. He might never have known it.
But then a searing pain, like a red-hot poker had been jammed under the skin of his hand, pulled him out of the furor of need that had taken over.
He yanked his head back. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“What?” she asked, that husky voice still full of sex and need. His dick strained against his fly, but his focus moved to his hand.
The brand on the fleshy part between his thumb and finger glowed white, then rearranged, almost as though the lines were a den of snakes, slithering and coiling to form a different design until they locked in place.
Shit.
Finn shook his head, still staring at the design.
Holy shit.
His focus must’ve pulled Delaney’s, because she stared down at the tattoo, which was red now, slowly cooling to the same black hue it had been before.
“Is that…normal?” she asked.
“No.”
“Is it a big deal?”
“Yeah.” And he needed to act, now. He dragged his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, but we need to leave.”
She nodded. “No problem. My shift finishes in half an hour, and it’s started to slow out there. Sera can cover.”
“Good. Let’s go.” As they walked together back through the tasting room, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
“Come on,” he muttered as it rang and rang. Voicemail. It had to be the middle of the night in France, which meant either Fallon was asleep, or he was in trouble. “Fuck.”
One of the patrons flicked him a glance. “Sorry,” Finn muttered.
He went to text Titus and Aidan, but his phone rang before he could. Aidan’s name on the display.
“What the hell does this mean?” Aidan asked.
Finn didn’t have to ask what. Every blue dragon, including Aidan, had just gone through exactly what he had at the exact same time. “It means exactly what you think it means.”
The Blue Clan
had a new king.
“When was the last time something like this happened?”
“Over five hundred years ago.” The last throne to change hands had been the gold throne. Thanatos already ruled the Blue Clan by that point. Finn had been on this planet ninety-some-odd years at the time, roughly eighteen in dragon aging, but old enough to remember the fighting that preceded the relative peace they currently enjoyed. Fallon hadn’t even been born yet.
“What happens now?”
“I don’t know.” And he needed to find out. “I’m going to take Delaney home. I need to make a few calls.” Deep and the Alliance Council. One of them would have answers.
Aidan was quiet a minute. “You want me and Titus to stay here?”
“Affirmative. I’ll send another shift to relieve you soon.” Graff may not have shown his face recently but that only meant he was planning something bigger. They couldn’t forget that.
“Yes, sir.”
Good man.
Finn hustled Delaney, who’d finished talking to Sera, out of the building and to his truck. She remained quiet until they hit the main road. “So, what’s going on?”
A grim foreboding settled over him, and he gripped the steering wheel. “I don’t know exactly, but I’m going to find out.”
…
Delaney did what she always did when she was antsy and waiting. She cooked.
Titus and Aidan had returned, replaced by Rivin and Keighan to watch over Sera. Titus sat in the kitchen with her while all the other men were crowded into Finn’s office in the back. Making phone calls she assumed.
Her lips twitched inappropriately. Even dragon shifters had to rely on good old-fashioned human technology to communicate. Why that helped them seem more…normal…to her she had no idea.
Delaney frowned. “Humans invented cell phones. Right?”
Titus lifted his eyebrows. “As far as I know…” he said slowly. As though her question was suddenly causing him to question her mental faculties.
“Just checking,” she mumbled.
He stood and moved to where he could watch her work on a homemade lasagna. She’d gone all out, intuiting that whatever she cooked needed to occupy her for a while. She’d already had them pick up the ingredients days ago, but went an extra step further, making the sauce from scratch.
Now she was setting up to layer everything into three pans—these big guys ate a lot and appreciated leftovers.
“Smells good,” Titus said.
She smiled. “Thanks. Do me a favor?”
He nodded.
“Grab a clean spoon and taste my sauce?”
Quietly, he did as she asked. She watched his face carefully as he licked the red tomato sauce from his spoon. “Too salty?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Too sweet.”
“Here.” She handed him the shaker. “Add a little at a time until you like it?”
Fathomless black eyes peered back at her. “I don’t need to be treated like a child who needs distracting while the adults talk.”
She hadn’t got a full read on Titus yet. Of the bunch, he was definitely the softest spoken. Drake’s silence was more like glowering hatred of all chatter. Titus struck her as more…shy.
“I know you don’t,” she said. “I just need to keep my mind busy, and I like you.”
That must’ve surprised him, because he straightened. “I guess it’s not easy finding out about dragons.”
She huffed a laugh. “You could say that.” Although, come to think of it, she’d only known for a few days and the idea seemed almost normal now. A new reality. “How do humans usually take it?”
He shrugged and turned to the pot with the salt. “Don’t ask me. I met my mate after she’d been told everything.”
“Mate?” she asked.
Those broad shoulders stiffened, and he didn’t turn away from the sauce. “Sort of like wives.”
“Lyndi explained them to me.” A tightness had entered his voice that warned her she was treading on sensitive ground. “I didn’t know you were…” Married? Mated?
Another shrug, more like a twitch, reminding her of a lizard’s tail after it got pulled off. Nerves reacting. “It didn’t work out.”
Not because he didn’t want it to, she’d bet. But she had no idea how all that worked. Delaney reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He half turned, glancing at her hand then back up to meet her gaze, and those coal-black eyes softened. “Thanks.”
His gaze shifted over her shoulder, and the warmth she’d thought she’d seen disappeared behind the blank wall Titus presented to the world. Before she could turn to see who or what made him pull into himself, an arm snaked around her waist, drawing her back against a broad chest.
Finn.
He leaned against the counter, taking her with him, and propped his chin on her shoulder, letting loose a soft breath.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is…complicated,” he murmured in her ear. “The brand on my hand—it changed because my clan has a new king.”
“And that’s a big deal, right?”
He nodded. Everything about him came off weary, beat down. So many responsibilities on those strong shoulders—her, Graff, dealing with fires, and now something as major as a new king—she couldn’t even imagine the weight of it.
“What’s your biggest fear?” she asked.
“Fallon. He’s over there in the middle of the mating process. A new king means the other clans will be wary. It could cause problems for him, and he’s not answering his cell.”
Delaney put her hand against his heart. “I’m sorry you’re worried.”
Finn’s grip on her tightened, and he gazed down into her eyes, but she couldn’t place his expression. Before she could ask, all of the others tromped into the kitchen, filling the space with noise and testosterone.
“Is that lasagna, Peanut?” Levi asked.
He went to stick a finger in the sauce only to have Titus smack him on the back of the hand with a spoon.
“Ow. Dude.” Levi rubbed his hand.
“Gross, dude,” Titus shot back, unrepentant.
“It’ll be ready in about an hour,” Delaney said, subverting an argument that looked about to spring up.
Apparently, that was enough time to do something else, because everyone filed back out of the kitchen, leaving her there with Finn. She reluctantly pushed out of his arms. “Let me finish this.”
He stood to the side, hip leaning into the counter, arms crossed. “You don’t have to cook for us, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “So you’ve told me. Several times. And I told you I like cooking. It keeps me occupied.”
She brought the pot over to her assembly line and started layering the noodles, cheese, and meat sauce mixture into the pans.
“You’ve told me before that you like to cook, but is that why you do it?” Finn asked softly. “To distract yourself?”
She flicked him a glance to find him watching her closely. Something about his expression—soft yet penetrating—had her swallowing. She didn’t talk about this stuff as a rule, not that she’d had anyone to talk to her after her family died, but he waited quietly for her answer.
“Yes.” She focused on her task, but found the words tumbling out anyway. “After my family died, the house was…lonely.” Hell, it’d been more than that. “Hollow.”
Too quiet. Though a fraction of the size, it’d felt bigger than this place, and empty. She much preferred the friendly, if occasionally too male, noises of this mountain installation.
“You cooked,” he prompted.
“I tried to watch TV first, but that didn’t help. I took on extra jobs. I needed to anyway, to cover the expenses, even after life insurance covered the mortgage and I owned it outright. But I couldn’t work twenty-four seven.” And sleep had been elusive.
“And cooking helped?”
She sighed. “Yes. It gave me something to do. It also
filled up the house with these smells, and it was like my mother…”
She’d thought she was getting through this okay. She damn well wasn’t expecting the rush of tears that slammed into her, choking off her words.
Strong arms pulled her into a broad chest. “Like she was there with you.”
Delaney nodded and allowed herself to be weak for once, dropping her forehead against him, letting the tears come. No sobbing or anything, just silent tears. They slid down her cheeks in warm streaks that gradually cooled.
Eventually, she lifted her head, wiping the back of a hand over her cheeks. “Yes. Cooking helped.”
He searched her eyes, then leaned down and kissed her—firm but so, so sweet. The sting of tears returned, so she kept her eyes closed, even after he lifted his head.
“I won’t tell you that you don’t have to cook for us again,” he said.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“I’d argue we’re getting the better end of the deal.”
That pulled a laugh from her, replacing sorrow with a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “You’re probably right. I’ve tasted Rivin’s cooking.”
…
Delaney stepped away from him and Finn had to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep from tugging her back.
She resumed her cooking. “So…what’s with the new king situation?”
Technically, it’d be better if he kept most of the details of dragon kind secret. She already knew more than any human should. “You know about the clans?”
She nodded.
“For over five centuries, the same six kings have ruled.”
“A new king is a big deal?” She finished with the layering and popped the pans into the oven.
“Particularly this new king. One of the six kings acts as the High King, who the others answer to. Ladon has openly been against the current High King, Pytheios. Which is why he took the blue throne by force from the man Pytheios backed.”
She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “So, it’s a coup?”
“Of a sort.”
“And the thing with your hand?” She nodded at his brand.