Day of the Dragon

by Katie MacAlister

  Declan slid a finger between her folds, sliding easily through her wetness until he teased her very center.

  “Yes.” She hissed the word.

  “Abby,” he rasped, the word both a question and a plea. She knew his thoughts since she had no doubt they mirrored her own.

  What are you doing to me?

  Please don’t stop.

  She didn’t. He didn’t. They made love—fucked—and yet didn’t.

  Whatever they did, whatever anyone wanted to call it, it still made her pant and moan with the growing ecstasy.

  He circled her clit, and she let herself be swept away with the sensations. She imagined it was his mouth on her pussy, his cock sliding in and out of her sheath. Her mind drew out the fantasy, an image of her straddling Declan, his hardness stretching her core. She’d ride him, cry for him, beg him…come for him.

  “Declan…” A shudder overtook her, one that didn’t end when it reached her toes. No, it retraced its path, dancing along her veins and easing back up her legs. The pleasure plucked her nerves, bringing them to life with each flex and twist of muscle. She mewled and whined, needing more, but already it felt like too much.

  Too much but not enough and still too much and…And her body was being torn apart by the bliss, pulled in a thousand directions while Declan tortured her.

  And she tortured him.

  She gave as good as she got, drawing and pushing them both to the precipice. It was near, just out of reach, but soon she’d jump and embrace that ultimate joy. She’d…

  “Declan…” Her muscles tensed, body curling upward with the overwhelming wave of deliciousness.

  “Here,” he growled low, beast not man. “Give it to me.”

  A scream. Long and loud. It came from her very soul, the source of life and love and everything that made her Abby. Her pussy clenched around Declan’s finger. And Declan…Declan stiffened and released his own sounds, a wolf’s howl while he came. A wet warmth bathed her hand, proof he’d reached the pinnacle along with her.

  Part of her didn’t want the orgasm to end. It was too delicious, too perfect. She wanted to hold on to it—him—forever.

  That single thought was followed by her cougar’s purr, the cat thrilled with the idea of…keeping Declan.

  Keeping Declan?

  No.

  But…

  He…

  “Abby.” Two syllables. Just two syllables left his mouth, but there were so many other words hidden in his voice, hidden within his tone, in the way he said her name and the hitch in his speech. She knew what he meant because she knew him.

  And it scared her. Down to her toes, down to her soul, the idea scared her.

  “Perfect,” he murmured, and nuzzled her neck, his damp, warm breath bathing her skin. “So perfect.”

  “Declan.” She released his softening length and withdrew her hand. “I—”

  He groaned and growled, rolling away from her in a blur of movement. She nearly whined at the loss of his touch. He returned almost as quickly as he’d left, now nude and beneath the covers at her side. The jeans were turned into a makeshift cloth to wipe away their passion before they were tossed away.

  Then it was just them. In the dark together, and yet she somehow felt a little alone.

  Until he pulled her into his arms. Until the deadly assassin tugged her close and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

  “Sleep.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  This time he’d kill Pike for real. He’d disembowel the asshole and leave him for the vultures.

  The pounding—Pike banging on the bedroom door—came again. It’d already woken Declan, and if it pulled Abby from sleep…

  Dead.

  He slid from beneath Abby, stomped to the door, and wrenched it open. He didn’t care about his nudity. Let the man see his dick swinging. It was what the ass got for interrupting.

  Pike stood just on the other side, fist raised as if he was about to bang once more.

  He glared at the other man and dropped his voice to a low growl. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  Pike smirked, his glance taking in Declan before flicking over his shoulder and focusing on Abby. Declan followed the other man’s line of sight and spied Abby, all right. All of Abby.

  “Nice,” Pike murmured, and it was too much for Declan’s wolf to tolerate. Another male looking at her? Wanting her when Declan hadn’t claimed her? Not happening.

  His hand transformed to wolf-like paw in an instant. He grabbed the male’s throat and pushed him back, not stopping until the other wolf struck the hallway wall with a deep thud.

  He leaned in close, crowded Pike until hardly any space separated their bodies. His gums stung for a split second, and then he had the wolf’s fangs at his disposal—long, pale, and deadly.

  “You don’t look at her. You understand?” Declan whispered the words, growl in his voice but still low so he wouldn’t wake Abby. “You don’t even think about her.”

  “Dec…” Pike tried to speak, but Declan tightened his hold.

  “She’s mine, Pike. You think of her like a brother would. You don’t look at her like you wanna fuck her. Do you get that?” Something else stirred in Declan’s blood, that midnight darkness that craved death, the bits and pieces of evil that still plagued him. It told him to finish Pike—eliminate the threat—permanently. It didn’t care about their connection—their history.

  Pike opened his mouth and wheezed.

  “Just nod. You don’t need to speak to nod.”

  The wolf nodded, a barely perceptible jerk of his chin.

  “Declan?” Soft. Sleepy. Feminine. His. Then came the delicate patter of her feet as she left the bed and drew nearer.

  Declan cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, wolf disappearing in a rush of fur and claws.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you…naked?” Her husky voice rolled over him in a soothing caress, calming the animal further.

  In some ways, anyway. There was a specific part of him that perked up and wanted nothing to do with calm.

  Wolf gone, he released Pike and turned to face Abby. “Pike was knocking and I didn’t want him to wake you. You need more sleep. Go on back to bed.” He padded forward until he filled the doorway, blocking her from Pike’s view. No one got to see her like that, all sleep tussled and covered in nothing but a sheet. The white swath of fabric caressed her curves, hinting at what the cloth hid from others.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” Less if he just flat-out killed Pike. Which was an option if Declan could close the door. He didn’t think breaking a neck in front of her would put her in the mood, and he needed her in the mood.

  “But…” Drowsy blue eyes blinked up at him, golden tendrils of her hair falling across her face, and he tucked the strands behind her ear. “But don’t we need to…”

  Declan put a crooked finger beneath her chin and encouraged her to tip her head back a little more. He lowered his mouth and brushed her lips with his. It was supposed to end there, but she had to go and sigh. He tugged her closer, ready to steal a little more. He’d just—

  “Ahem.” A low cough followed.

  Declan pulled his lips from hers and released a growl, long and low. “Mother. Fucker.” He set Abby away from him and spun, facing Pike once more. “I’m gonna kill you.”

  The rustle of cloth told him Abby moved, repositioned herself to his right, and he eased in that direction. He didn’t want Pike’s last sight to be of her. Then she had to be a pain in his ass and move left.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, and his anger surged. She didn’t have that sleepy, sexy look anymore. “Who’s this?”

  Declan sighed and ran a hand down his face. Snippets of the night, pre-orgasm, flickered through his mind. “This is Pike. You were out of it when we got here. This is his place, and he”—he shot Pike a glare that’d kill a weaker man—“is gonna leave us the fuck alone now.”

  “He…” Abby squinted, her gaze bouncing between them. �
�The dead man?”

  “Yes.” He kept his narrow-eyed stare on Pike.

  “He looks alive.” She pointed at Pike. “And a lot like you. Like you two could be…”

  “Brothers,” Pike purred, and Declan clenched his fist. He hadn’t hauled his brother’s ass around for the last fifteen years just to send his fist through the wolf’s head. “Didn’t Declan tell you?”

  Abby’s attention settled on Declan. “I thought you said his name was Jacob?”

  Declan ignored Pike and turned to face Abby. “It’s complicated.”

  “Not that complicated,” Pike grumbled. “A guy fakes his own death and you act like—”

  “You wouldn’t have had to fake your own death if you’d fucking listen and stay out of shit you know nothing about, but nooo, you just have to—”

  “Kiss my ass, Declan. You wouldn’t have made it out of the last contract if I hadn’t—”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I came to tell you that Team Fuckhole is having coffee in the kitchen.” Pike’s attention flicked to Declan’s dick and back to his face. “Put your cock away before you come out.”

  “You called them?” Declan snarled. “What the fuck?”

  Pike shook his head and snorted. “You think they didn’t know you’d end up here? They’re assholes, not idiots.”

  “They’re not taking her.” He’d go through them all if they tried.

  “Like I said, not idiots.” With that, he turned and left, striding down the hall as if Declan hadn’t threatened to kill him, which meant that now he was alone. With Abby. Who was naked under that sheet.

  His wolf liked the way his thoughts were headed and gave an approving chuff, wanting to cover her in his scent. But looking at her, the wide eyes, parted lips, and shock written all over her features…Nah, naked time wasn’t in the immediate future.

  “We need to get dressed,” he said, and backed her into the room once again. The moment he had space, he nudged the door shut, putting that barrier between them and a bunch of bullshit he wasn’t ready to deal with quite yet. “There are some clothes here. They’ll be big, but at least you’ll be covered.”

  And not prancing around in a sheet. Sun shone through the window, rays dancing over her body and revealing even more of her. The brightness made the fabric nearly invisible—the dark pink of her nipples, the dip of her waist, and those curls at the juncture of her thighs.

  The rustle of fabric, a small hand on his arm…He’d killed men last night without a thought—he was a tough asshole—but apparently he was nothing when it came to Abby.

  “Pike is your brother, Jacob, and he faked his own death?” When she said it that way, it did sound a little odd, but he didn’t have time to explain. “And when he said Team Fuckhole, did he mean your SHOC team?”

  “Yes to both. Put this stuff on and meet me in the kitchen.”

  “But will they…?” She pressed a hand to her throat.

  “It looks like the team is going to help deal with this.” He gave her one last hard kiss. Just in case Ethan knew what’d happened to his sports car and managed to land a punch. Hurt like hell to kiss with a busted lip. “Get dressed. I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

  Declan smacked her ass, flat of his palm curving to rub away any sting, and he couldn’t help but smile at her squeak and growled “Declan.”

  Yeah, he smiled then, but as soon as he stepped into the kitchen and faced his team, it turned into a glare. “You assholes are gonna be fucking polite and fucking apologetic, or I’ll fucking kill your fucking asses right now.”

  “That’s a whole lot of fucking.” Birch raised a single brow.

  Of course Pike couldn’t keep his mouth shut and snorted. “’Cause he didn’t get any fucking last night.”

  “You piece of shit.” He snarled the words and leaped. Not because he spoke the truth, but because Declan needed to work off some of his sexual frustration and Pike was closest.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  When Abby walked into the room five minutes later no one noticed her standing just inside the long hallway, beneath the arch that separated the great room from the bedrooms. They were all too focused on Pike—Jacob, though she wasn’t sure if the others knew of the brother/death fakeage going on there—and Declan rolling around on the ground. They traded punches and bites, claws occasionally flashing.

  Pike delivered a hard punch with a fast right, nailing Declan’s cheek, and Declan returned it with a head butt. The crunch told her he’d broken Pike’s nose. She winced. That had to hurt.

  Then thoughts of hurting vanished. She’d been such an idiot—so intent on following the growls and snarls—she hadn’t realized what she’d be rushing into.

  Like, a great room filled with men who she assumed were Declan’s SHOC team. And her arrival? That wince? It had drawn attention.

  Not from all of them. Three remained focused on the brothers trading blows, but one of them…He sat at a dining table, his chair kicked back as he balanced his weight on two chair legs. His feet rested on the table’s smooth top, and he had his hands linked behind his head.

  A hat shielded half his face from view, but she didn’t need to see all of him to know his gaze was on her. Dark. Intent. Heavy. A tremor slid down her spine, and she swallowed hard and took a step back into the shadows. She wished the dark would swallow her whole and hide her from his view, but it didn’t.

  His eyes flared brightly, a gold that remained focused on her, his stare unwavering. Cold. She shivered. Like ice—barren and emotionless. He didn’t flinch when Pike and Declan crashed into the wall, sending pictures tumbling from their nails.

  Everyone was at ease. He was not.

  Everyone cheered and laughed. He did not.

  Everyone ignored Abby. He. Did. Not.

  Abby took a step back, and he let his weight bring the chair back to four feet.

  Another step. Would any of the doors in the house hold back…? She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of animal he was on the inside. Not a wolf—the eye color wasn’t right. A big cat, then. Lion? No, the jawline and coloring didn’t match one of those felines. Tiger?

  Her heart raced, and adrenaline flooded her veins. She didn’t know—didn’t need to know—his species. Danger surrounded him in an invisible cloak, and her pulse doubled.

  Yeah. Tiger. A tiger who was all about her.

  The tiger rose from his chair and took a step, pausing only to speak to one of the other shifters for a split second before he was intent on her again. Intent. Determined.

  “Declan?” Her voice—her whole body—trembled, but she remained stuck in place. Terror gripped her tighter and tighter as the stranger neared.

  That quickly, the fight between Pike and Declan ended and she faced two broad backs pressed shoulder to shoulder—twin wolf growls directed away from her.

  “Back the fuck off, Cole.” It was Declan’s voice, but the growl that followed was unfamiliar, a rumbling roll so like Declan’s yet not.

  It was Pike. Pike threatening a tiger on her behalf—defending her just like Declan said he would.

  “Aw, c’mon, Dec,” the tiger mumbled, and Abby pressed up to her tiptoes to peek over the brothers’ shoulders. The tiger—Cole—stood halfway between his seat and their small trio, but instead of staring at her like she was dinner…he suddenly looked anywhere but at her. “Just gonna talk to her a little.”

  Gone was the feral intensity, and in its place was over six feet of slightly embarrassed badass. The “badass” was assumed since he was one of Declan’s team members, but the pink tinge to his cheeks was unmistakable.

  “No, you’re not,” Declan countered. “Your ass is staying over there and your mouth is staying shut.” She’d seen him coldly angry, deadly, but this was different. Harsher. Wilder, which made him even more dangerous. “No one’s talking to her. No one’s even looking at her. As far as the team is concerned, she doesn’t exist.”

  Declan stepped forward, his skin now sporting
more than a little gray fur and his fingers turned claw. She didn’t have time to think or question what she did next. She simply went into action.

  With that single step, she had enough room to slip between the brothers and move in front of the furious wolf. She blocked his path and eased closer, resting her cheek on his chest while she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Declan. Stop.” Hardly more than a whisper, but it was enough. Her presence, her voice, halted his approach. The tension remained, his body prepared to launch at Cole, but he didn’t shove her aside and go after the tiger. He simply stayed in place, let her hold him captive while his beast drove him to take on the other shifter.

  “Well, damn. She’s like a dick whisperer or something. Stopped his cock with one word.” Ethan’s voice was filled with awe, his words low, but it did the job.

  It broke the rising tension, popped the growing bubble of violence and deflated it with a handful of words. Declan shuddered, his muscles relaxing. His shoulders curled forward while he slipped his arms around her as well.

  “Abby.” His voice still held the wolf.

  “I’m right here. I’m fine. I was just…” Scared. Terrified. Petrified. Any one of those would work. The sudden scrutiny, the intense stare… “Surprised. I was just surprised for a minute.”

  Declan snorted, and Pike chuckled, but Pike had to take it a step further and comment. “Your girl’s not a good liar.”

  “Aw, man…” Grant—werewolf, if she remembered Declan’s description correctly—stomped into view, whining like a five-year-old. “You already called dibs? Figures,” he grumbled. “I’m stuck behind the computer and that asshole gets the girl.”

  Abby turned just in time to see Ethan chuck something across the room at Grant.

  Grant jumped up and caught it with his mouth, then chewed. He looked toward Abby, wide grin on his lips while he chomped his food, and gave her a wink.

  “Grant, you’re a wolf, not a fucking dog.” Yet another man eased into sight.

  Grant shrugged. “I’m a man, I’m hungry, and that was food.” Grant jerked his chin toward their small group and spoke to Pike. “Puppy, what else ya got? Dinner rolls ain’t gonna cut it if we’ve got to go balls to the wall tonight.”