He grinned. “Yes, you will.”
She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, but that wasn’t good enough. He bent his head to hers, slid his arm out from her hold and took her face in his hands. He held her head in place as he ate at her lips, nipping, kissing, sucking and teasing the tender flesh until he sunk his tongue deep inside of her mouth. Wolf whistles and clapping sounded around them from onlookers. He ignored it all and continued to control the kiss. He felt pressure on his chest, but rather than push him away she moved closer, bunching his shirt in her hands as she moved her hips against his, rubbing herself against his erection.
He saw stars behind his eyelids as sparks of pleasure raced up and down his cock. A groan floated between them. Whether it came from him or her, her didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He just wanted more. She tasted so sweet. He was addicted. He ran his hands down from her face, over her shoulders, and traced the curves and dips of her back, feeling the heated skin underneath the flimsy blouse she wore. Brent wanted to tear it off. His hands clenched the silken fabric, ready to rip it apart, when he felt a sharp tug on his shirt.
Brent whirled around and growled at the person who had interrupted them. A searing pain shook along his fingers as they turned to claws and steam billowed out of his mouth and nostrils. His scales pressed upward into his flesh, shimmering on the surface until his flesh had turned to the colors of the sea. Warmth and pain filled his muscles as they expanded, preparing for the change to half-dragon mode. His head throbbed as his skull slimmed and his nose began to recede. Brent’s lips burned as they thinned and his cheekbones ached as they contorted into a sharper shape. His thoughts became a distant mist, insubstantial compared to the raw need to make Carissa his—all his.
Tor stood before him, but he was no longer a friend. He was an enemy, a possible challenge for his mate.
Tor held up his hands, eyes pure obsidian, body slack and relaxed. “Whoa there, buddy. Calm down. It’s me. It’s only me, Tor, your friend.” Tor waved a hand, but it took a moment for Brent to understand what was going on. “We’re in public, man. Pub-lic.”
Brent blinked and looked around. A crowd had formed around him. His dragon felt threatened and put on display. He growled. Searing hot, bone-melting steam streamed out of his mouth and nostrils again. He could feel dragonfire swirling around his chest, building up pressure, ready to escape. A hand on his forearm made him pause, and a calm, soothing sensation twined around his arm and wrapped around his body. He looked down, confused at this new feeling, and saw Carissa staring up at him, calm in her gaze, her soft hand on his arm.
“Brent, pull back. It’s okay. No one will hurt you.” The softness and reasonableness of her words pulled back the shift and sent his dragon down on his belly, calm and docile, like a sleepy kitten. He winced at the return to his normal form.
Carissa lifted up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “Dinner, tonight,” she whispered. Then she turned and walked away.
What the fuck had just happened? Was he starting to go through his own mating heat? Tor came toward him, the scent of fire and spice drifted over him, soothing and calming him down a bit. Brent turned to his friend, trying to bat back the sense of fear curling in his stomach. “What’s happening to me?”
Tor gave him a rueful smile. “You, my son…” He clapped him on the shoulder and gave it a painful squeeze. “…are growing up. You’ve found your mate and now the bonding instinct is kicking in. As soon as you have sex with her, the mating will truly activate and you’ll become a possessive, territorial asshole.” He gave Brent a wicked grin that made Brent sick to his stomach.
It wasn’t idea of being mated to Carissa that he found repulsive—they already were mates, he knew that—it was the process that was putting him ill-at-ease. He could just see himself becoming a jealous jerk and creating scenes that would drive her away from him. “Does this mean the dragon will control my impulses?” The sinking feeling grew until he thought he would throw up.
“In a sense, yes,” Tor said. “Neither of you can truly control it. It’s pure instinct, but for every dragon it’s different. Just warn her before you do something really stupid.” Tor began to lead him away from Scentify. With every step Brent took, his dragon protested. Now that they’d had a taste, the dragon only wanted more. It didn’t want to allow her any time to slip away from him.
Each step was difficult, as his muscles protested. His lungs burned with exertion, and each breath came out labored. Brent wanted to turn and run back, bundle Carissa in his arms, and carry her away. He could only imagine what she was going through at this moment. Did werewolves have separation anxiety? Bonding fever? He knew they went into heat too, but were they as possessive as dragons were? There was so much he didn’t know.
He would be with her tonight, and that would have to be enough to keep his dragon satisfied for now. With a deep breath, he focused on walking with Tor. “So, what’s Lou got lined up for us today? Besides trying to kill us with work and changes?”
Tor shrugged. “The usual stuff, but she convinced the big boss to let us hire more servers, temporary staff for the rest of the month. From what we’re hearing around town, people love it here so much that they’re willing to stay beyond the festival. Great for business, but the police have their hands full with all the road congestion and parties.” Tor shook his head. “There’s even talk of town being like this for Samhain, and don’t get me started on Christmas. Can you imagine? Snow and ice on the ground? Dear gods, and I’m pretty sure the mayor is pulling her hair out with the influx.”
Brent smirked. “I’d hate to be in her position right now. Do you think people will want to move here? I mean, normals?” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about their little niche of society being overrun with humans. Shadow Onyx City had always been the city where paras and normals mixed, not their little hamlet. They barely had any humans living here full time. Now it looked like times were changing and they’d all have to adjust.
“I don’t know,” Tor said. “She’d have to negotiate with the shifters for land, and honestly, the bears are far too stingy with their forests. Then there are the packs to consider. I don’t even want to think of what would go on in the mountains.” Tor shuddered and Brent was right there with them.
“The dragons would hate to have to share space with things they’d thought of as food up until a century or two ago. And we’d probably get the rich, entitled brats moving up there.” Brent didn’t want to think about how his parents would react to normals invading their home. They liked their quiet life.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, Tor. How’d your parents take it about Louisa?”
Tor shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. “They practically screamed my ear off. They want to meet her—like now. We’re going up there for the autumn equinox to celebrate. Mom’s getting the whole freakin’ clan over there. I don’t know about Louisa, but I’m terrified they’ll try to kidnap her. My cousins are all going to fall in love with her.” He shook his head.
Brent chuckled. “My mom will probably try to kidnap Carissa. I just know it. She’s always wanted a daughter, and Carissa has access to aromatherapy. My mom will be in heaven. If that includes spa facilities and makeup, dear god, I’d never see her.”
Tor laughed. “Look at you, making plans already. You need to win her over first. Are you willing to work for her?”
Brent thought about the question. It didn’t take long for the answer to come to him. “Of course. She’s worth it, completely.”
Tor clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, ’cause I think you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
Brent frowned. “What do you mean?” They stopped in front of a sporting goods store.
“Because any mate worth having is a mate you have to fight for, whether they have personal demons or another lover in the picture. Just be prepared for difficulties.” Tor nodded toward the parking lot. “Come on, let
’s go home. We have to prep for work. I have a feeling Louisa’s going to call us to come in early to help the newbies acclimate to the pub.”
Brent nodded. He needed some time away from Carissa. He needed to get centered before their dinner tonight.
Tor ended up being right about Louisa’s call. It came as soon as they walked through the door, and they were out again in half an hour, showered, dressed in their uniforms, and ready for an early shift.
When they got to the Dragon’s Lair, there was already a crowd. Brent looked around, confused. “What the hell? Why are people here already?”
“Because the boss put out word that we’d have The Snake here tonight doing an acoustic session,” Tor explained as they entered the building. Louisa met them, looking much calmer than she had been the previous night, but she had a creepy smile on her face that made Brent uneasy. Had Happy Hour come earlier than expected?
“Let’s go, guys,” she said. “I’m on allergy meds and the new help needs to be trained. Get to it while I grab an hour’s sleep okay? I’m already starting to see unicorns and giant, candy corn trees.”
Brent snickered. “Must be some strong stuff. We can handle things from here. Don’t worry about it.”
Louisa snorted. “Of course I don’t, because you know I’d have to kill you if you couldn’t handle things. Don’t eat all the brownies. I’d like to take some home with me.”
As Louisa walked away, Tor let out a groan and Brent had to snicker. “Looks like no sex for you tonight, buddy.”
Brent dragged Tor and Fletch off to handle the new servers. Everything went smoothly for the first hour or so. To test out the newbies, they let in a group of people and monitored their progress. But then Tiberio “The Snake” De Lorenzo strolled in through the employee entrance, set up his stool, microphone, and equipment and started to warm up. There was only him, no other band members, not even in the audience.
Brent paused to take in the snake shifter. Wavy, black hair, threaded with a bit of white, fell to his shoulders. Eerie, bright yellow-green eyes with flecks of amber looked out over the crowd. He wore a worn, grey T-shirt with a pock-marked and peeling Hulk image on it, and baggy jeans. The tips of black cowboy boots peeked out from under his pant legs. His rich, gold skin gleamed, even in the low, intimate light of the stage. His face looked like it had been cut from marble, with chiseled, classic features that made women swoon. He was in his forties, but he had a lean, whip-like body that looked ready to strike at any moment.
Tiberio had an air of mystery and danger about him. Brent felt a sense of unease creep along his spine as he continued to watch the man, unable to take his gaze away. It was like he was being hypnotized just watching the rocker walk around the stage. Even from the back of the pub, he could hear the man’s voice as he hummed to himself. It was low and rough, and the sound sent chills through Brent.
He breathed in and out, slowly and rhythmically, as his heart slowed down. All he could see was Tiberio. Every muscle in his body felt frozen. All of his senses slowed down. Even his dragon was entranced.
What the fuck was going on? What kind of mojo was this? He tried to shake his head, pull his gaze away, and yet nothing worked. Brent stared in wonder—and he was supposed to be the bigger predator here! A dragon being entranced by a snake was like an elephant being scared of a mouse. It seemed ridiculous, and yet it was happening to him right now. Frustration ate him up as he tried to move. He tried to shake his head, to scream—anything—but he couldn’t move a muscle.
The space in his head was becoming smaller and smaller as the world narrowed down to Tiberio. Panic broke out, as sweat slipped over his brow and down his temples, soaked through the back of his shirt. Fear that he would never move again sent a wave of chills through him as his dragon began to scream, a horrible high-pitched keening sound that filled his ears. “I’m going out of my mind. Someone help me!”
Brent’s breath was no longer smooth and relaxed. It came out in choppy huffs as his heart began to pound out a rapid beat against his ribcage, almost as if it was trying to escape its cage. He wanted to escape too. He wanted to run away, far away from this man. He had to get away and yet he couldn’t move. No matter how many commands he sent to his feet, his fingers, or even his eyes, he just stood, transfixed, staring at The Snake. Was he going to die there? What about Carissa?
A light, warm weight settled on his forearm, and for the first time in what seemed like forever he managed to draw in a deep breath, filling his lungs until they were so full he couldn’t take in any more air. His heart continued to race but he felt a bit better. He slowly looked down to see Louisa in front of him. She gave him a small smile. “I felt it too. We all do. Don’t worry. I’ll tell Tiberio to turn off the mojo, okay?”
Brent nodded, as relief whooshed through him. His shoulders sagged as he slumped over. His knees bent, his body close to collapse, like a puppet cut from its strings. The spell was broken and he could move again.
With effort, he went about his tables, all the while aware of Tiberio on the stage, now strumming the guitar and singing “Riders on the Storm.” Brent looked around to see that Tor, Fletch and a few of the new waiters were coming out of the same trance.
Louisa climbed onto the stage and said something in Tiberio’s ear. All he did was nod. The hypnotic power began to recede, like the tide pulling back out to sea. Brent could breathe again. He felt suddenly freer, and his dragon stopped screaming, but he felt they could both use a bit of relaxation. He knew he’d have to change dinner plans with Carissa. His head just wasn’t in a space for seduction.
Chapter Ten
Carissa was in hell. She was sure she’d walked into another dimension and this wasn’t Scentify. Anna and Jez were running around restocking the shop, but the products were being bought as fast as they could get them on the shelves. There was security stationed around the store for some sort of celebrity who was apparently in the store, but neither Anna nor Jez had even a second to tell her who it was.
Carissa rushed up to the counter to start helping out with checkout. Within fifteen minutes, she was sure her arm was going to fall off from all the ringing up and bagging she was doing. When the phone rang, she tucked the receiver in the cradle of her neck, pinning it between her ear and her shoulder.
“Hello, Scentify, this is Carissa speaking. How may I help you?” She tried not to sound harried, but pleasant, light, like the world was a beautiful, rainbow-sparkle-filled place with unicorns and clouds made of cupcakes that rained chocolate, but only managed to sound a little off of her rocker.
“Honey, I’m gonna have to cancel dinner tonight. I’m off my center and feeling kind of like shit. I need to realign. Is that okay? I really hate to do this but—” Brent’s voice was breathy, filled with tension. Something was very wrong.
Carissa latched onto his voice like a lifeboat. “Brent! Forget dinner. Come over to my place. I’ll give you that massage you wanted.” She didn’t know where that suggestion came from but out it came. The strain she heard in his worried her, and she felt an overwhelming need to look after him, to make him feel better. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew just how to make it right. “I have some massage oil that would help rebalance your chakras. Let me take care of you. I can cook.”
Carissa blinked. Now where the hell did that come from? She didn’t cook for men. She barely cooked for herself. “Why the hell not?” her wolf asked.
“Well, okay, if you wouldn’t mind.” The tension in Brent’s voice lessened, and she could feel him relax a little.
“I don’t mind at all, if you don’t mind being a guinea pig.” She couldn’t help but grin at that. Normally she, Jez and Anna tested out the products. It would be nice to get a male perspective on the scents they were considering. Plus, it would allow her to get her hands on his body.
Her palms tingled at the thought. She wanted to see if that golden skin went all the way down. Was he darker or paler underneath his clothes? Or was he just as beautifully tanne
d? Was he hairy, or were his crisp curls trimmed? Or maybe he was completely bare. Were his legs dense with hair or lightly furred?
She reminded herself that she was in public, and that it wouldn’t do to daydream with the store so busy, but her mind didn’t heed that warning. Instead, her head filled with images of Brent slowly stripping out of his clothes, revealing himself inch-by-inch, until he was completely naked. He would be unashamed by his nudity. He’d be the type of man who wouldn’t be shy to show her how he liked to be touched, how he liked to masturbate when he was alone.
She sucked in a shaky breath as she tried to picture him on her bed, his thick cock with the flared crest ruddy, a pearl of cum already at the slit. Carissa licked her lips, wanting to taste that salty essence of him. She wanted to wrap her lips around that thick stalk and suck him down until he hit the back of her throat, and once there, she’d swallow him down, teasing him with the clench and hold of her throat muscles. A buzz of excitement rushed through her body as her hand shook with the effort of keeping calm. She tried to ignore the steady pulse of her clit as her arousal began to grow and her heartbeat sped.
As she rang up a gift box of scented oils, the image in her mind changed to Brent tied down to her bedposts and blindfolded. She’d always wanted to trail a bit of ice down a man’s body and tease him with the cold before using her mouth to heat him up. Would Brent enjoy that? Maybe she would use that chill on his dick. The throb of her clit increased. He’d be so beautiful, naked and at her mercy.
“Carissa, honey, did you hear me?” This time he sounded breathy, his tone laced with desire. “Babe, where’d you go? What were you thinking of? My dick is so hard right now, I want to strip off my pants and jerk off. What are you doing to me, sweetheart?”
Dragon Ugly (Dragon New Year) Page 8