Dragons For Hire: A Dragon Shifter Romance

by Sadie Sears

  Gretta closed her eyes like dealing with me took more patience than she had. When she opened them, I was smiling, innocent, and so sweet that yelling at me would have filled her with shame.

  “I’m going to go. I left a prescription with Leath for pain pills you can have filled and have them here in case you need more.” She shot me her side-eye as we walked down the stairs together. “No limp?”

  “I told you I feel good today.”

  She nodded. “Don’t overdo it. And I left some of my old magazines for Zoe in the living room. I thought she would think it was a hoot.” Another mom-ism.

  “What magazines?” I doubted Zoe would care much about old issues from the American Medical Association.

  “Classic teenage magazines. You know, the ones with all the articles about ‘are you destined to be with your soulmate.’” She chuckled. “Maybe you should read a couple.”

  I slapped her shoulder. “Very funny. Go to work.”

  She drove off, and I went back into the house. The smell of bacon mingled now with the French toast and something a hundred percent Leath in my house, and my mouth watered. At some point, this job was going to end for him. He’d go back to his life. Except, he’d said more than once that I was his life, his destiny. Gretta had made a decent point the other day when she said they could sense bad magic, and I’d had some time to think about it.

  I still wasn’t entirely convinced about the whole destined thing, but he was pushing that doubt further away every day. It would be nice to know, though, what happened next, now that he’d caught and deterred my stalker.

  Had I not known where the kitchen was, the smell of his cooking would’ve led me and my rumbling stomach in. Then I saw him, and a different kind of sensation swept up from my toes to settle into the spaces just below my belly.

  What the man did for clothes should’ve been illegal. My pulse raced and I slid my tongue along the corner of my mouth. Leath was a lot of man to look at. If I started with the tank top—it was warm, thank God—and said it stretched over his broad chest and left his biceps exposed, it would have been a true but inadequate description. The only thing I’d ever seen better was when he’d changed from dragon to man and walked naked to his clothes. And if I spent too long on his jeans, I would have ended up leaning against the door frame for support, and all his raw sexiness would have turned to concern—still sexy. I wanted him to see me as strong, unhindered this morning by MS—especially since I was about to say what I was about to say.

  But first, he walked around the island, took my hand, and led me to the table. His touch sent little shock waves of awareness through me. And by little, I meant, I was a walking earthquake. He’d already poured fresh orange juice, sliced melon and berries and had them in bowls at the center of the table, and he’d folded my napkin in the shape of a heart. When I was seated, he crouched beside my chair, and from behind his back pulled out a bud vase with a rose from the garden.

  It was the color of a late fall apple and still closed. Or at least it was, until Leath slipped the bloom between his fingers and lifted it from the vase. Then the folds opened, and the flower blossomed. Neat trick.

  He smiled. “A rose by any other name…” He spoke slowly and softly, stared into my eyes, and brushed his free hand down my cheek. “Would never be as beautiful as you are.”

  Wow. Then he stood and walked away like I wasn’t about to swoon my way out of the chair. In a few seconds, or it could’ve been an hour since I was busy reliving the “never be as beautiful as you are” moment of our morning, he came back with a plate. When I pressed the flower to my nose, Zoe’s words came rushing back to me. He just gave me his rose.

  When he sat across from me—Zoe had spent the night at Shae’s, so we were alone—he looked up and smiled. I hadn’t moved to take a bite or smother the bread with the syrup he’d poured into a little cup for me.

  Instead of being smooth and fluent and cool, I lifted my head, gazed at him like he was lunch and sighed. And moaned. Then sobered. “You can move out now.”

  He sat back and glanced down at his plate then at me, but he didn’t speak.

  And good thing because I wasn’t quite done being awkward and weird, even ungrateful, just yet. “My illness is in hiding at the moment, thankfully, and I don’t need you to take care of me anymore.” Shit. This wasn’t the way I wanted this to go or the exact words I’d meant to say. I held up my hand. “Wait. I didn’t mean it… I don’t…”

  And because he was the smooth one in our—whatever this was between us—he stood and walked around to my side of the table, held out his hand and waited until I took it before he pulled out the chair beside me and sat. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go.” He brushed a finger along the underside of my jaw to curl under my chin while his other hand continued to hold mine, thumb stroking the back of my hand. “Do you want me to go, Lila?”

  No. I wanted him to stay. To take me upstairs to my room and let me explore this big, beautiful body of his. I wanted him to kiss me like he couldn’t stop kissing me. And I wanted him to touch me as if I wasn’t the most fragile human he’d ever met. Fact was, I wanted Leath, and if he left, my house wouldn’t feel the same. I wouldn’t feel the same.

  “No.” I wanted him to stay forever and look at me like I hung the moon and he was better for it. He had his gaze pointed into my eyes, and we were still connected by a powerful touch that warmed me from top to bottom. Heavy emphasis on bottom, and he hadn’t even gone out of the G-rated zone.

  “Leath.” I was asking for what I wanted, but he’d already leaned in.

  “Lila.” He spoke just a breath before his lips touched mine in the softest caress of a kiss.

  I pushed my free hand through the back of his hair, curled my fingers into the silky strands and opened my mouth when he slid his tongue along the seam. He angled his head and deepened the kiss, then used his fingertips to rub my palm and his tongue to slide against mine.

  It lasted forever and yet not long enough before he pulled away.

  I blew out a breath and smiled. “Please stay.”

  “Okay.” He moved back to his chair and nodded.

  Being with him here reminded me of my family sitting around this table. Mom and Dad at the ends and Gretta and me across from each other in the days before we had to worry about illness, unhappiness, stalkers and the need for a cane.

  I cleared my throat. “I think I’m going to teach a class today.”

  He cocked an eyebrow as he took a bite of fruit. “You sure?”

  As sure as I could’ve been. It had been a while. And with the holiday tomorrow, there were people other than me who probably needed to relax. Clients who needed to feel the pull and stretch of muscle they hadn’t exercised in a while.

  I nodded. “I think I’ll make some calls after breakfast.” A decision about work returned more of the power the MS took from me and gave me back some of the life it robbed me of. I had so many people to be grateful for—Gretta, Zoe, Sophie, and now Leath, too.

  He cooked, washed dishes, and could talk about anything because he’d been everywhere and had two lifetimes’ worth of knowledge in his head. And he was beautiful, with chiseled features and muscles, a smile like the best sunrise that made darkness brighter, a body I could’ve stared at for hours or days. Add to that a gentleness I never would’ve expected in a man so tough, and a heart bigger than I deserved.

  While I waited for my clients to arrive, we sat on the porch, and his lemonade shake-ups—fresh lemon with water and sugar shaken to a pulpy mix—were a balm to the ever-rising temperatures. Again, the nostalgia of the house and moments like this were the reason I’d stayed. I wanted Zoe to have the same childhood I had and feel the same sense of home.

  “You’re far away.”

  I glanced over, smiled. I wasn’t far away at all. “I’m here.” And nowhere else I would’ve rather been or been with. “Right here.”

  He didn’t answer because Maxine Alban pulled into the drive, then Donna Schull,
and Carlton Smith. These were a few of my regulars who’d been happy to come out today for a class, and who were genuinely glad to see me up and on my feet after each relapse.

  And like he’d done it a hundred times, Leath helped them all inside, to settle into the studio, then he walked out, and I started class.

  I led the class with every intention of achieving a rejuvenating flow of energy, but nothing said pulse-pounding rejuvenation like Leath Lane standing at the door, half-smiling. For me, anyway. The rest of the class had to be happy with Tadasana and Uttanasana until we finished the physicality and started meditation.

  “In mindfulness practice, we learn to remain in the present moment, to anchor ourselves in the here and now, to not judge our past but to let it go.” I kept my voice soft as I moved us through to silence and breathing, to peace, but I was talking to him, feeling the words for Leath.

  When I was finished meditating, I opened my eyes and glanced at the door. Leath sat, legs crossed, outside the door in the hallway. I stared until he opened his eyes and he smiled at me. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to kill a woman with that grin of his. For all I knew, it was.

  Then he unfolded his legs and stood outside the door waiting for the after-class socialization and scheduling of private and group appointments before he pushed Maxine’s wheelchair to her car, walked Donna as far as the steps, then hung around on the porch and talked plants with Carlton—an avid gardener—before he left.

  When Carlton’s car pulled through the gate, Leath walked toward me, eyes bright and greener than I’d ever seen them. “You were amazing, are amazing.” His correction burned through me then settled low in my belly and made desire pool in my stomach.

  “Thanks.” He was pretty amazing himself, but I couldn’t form the words when he was so close, and I was so ready. So ready.

  “MS is degenerative, yeah?” He waited for my nod, then laced his fingers through mine and we walked to the house and inside before he continued. “You’re going to probably need to have a ramp built at the porch, and I saw a thing…” His skin pinked. “Actually, I googled it. I just wondered what was available, and I found a chair we can attach to the rail and you can sit in it to take you up the stairs.” He smiled at me. “It’ll make your life easier if things take a bad turn. You’ll want to be able to get to bed when I’m gone.” If I ever convinced myself to leave.

  To be blunt, I wanted to get into bed when he was there now, but I frowned because the last thing I wanted him thinking about was my illness, especially when all I wanted him to see was me, not my MS.

  Instead of leading me toward the living room, he took me through the house to the studio. “I was thinking, after the way you helped your clients, the peace that was…” He sighed. “Could you maybe…” He nodded to a mat. “Help me?”

  I directed him through a few poses known for strengthening the core and breathing techniques that helped him calm, but for being so tall and so imposing, his posture could’ve used work, so I angled my body to the side of his and pushed with one hand between his shoulder blades and another on his stomach.

  The warmth of his skin under my palm jolted me into instant awareness of him, of everything about him. The scent of his cologne, the power vibrating through his body. It wasn’t going to be easy to work the tension out of him. And I would’ve suggested a massage, but my hands had already flipped to that page, and the one on his stomach—absent of my telling it to—had worked its way under his shirt.

  One sharp intake of breath later—after I slipped my hand lower—and he growled, pulled me in front of him, and walked me backward until the decorative pillar “holding up” the roof was at my back. And when he lowered his head and brushed his lips across mine, I sighed. This was the kiss I’d waited for my entire life, the one that made my breath hitch because it felt so right and so perfect.

  Plus, he had his tongue in my mouth. He tasted sweet, like the fruit he’d had for breakfast, and his kiss was powerful and demanding. He lifted the hem of my shirt and slid his hand so his fingers wrapped around my side, skin against skin.

  He dragged his mouth along my throat, and I tilted my head when he found the sensitive spot just below my ear. I might’ve whimpered, might’ve moaned, but I needed him, and I wanted him to know I wanted more than I probably deserved, but I pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Leath.”

  He let his tongue slide along his lower lip as breath huffed out of his mouth.

  “Let’s go upstairs?” This was one of the single most important minutes of my life. I wanted Leath, gave him the power to accept or reject me and had no choice but to wait for him to make the choice.

  He nodded. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  I went to the door and crooked my finger, then walked into the hall and listened for his footsteps. And when he followed, he grabbed me by the waist from behind, moved my ponytail to kiss the vein at the back of my neck, then swung me into his arms with his arm around my back and the other under my knees as he carried me upstairs to my room.

  11

  Leath

  I’d been in her bedroom 110 times, helped her in and out of bed more than I could count or was healthy for my, uh, body, and I’d walked around semi-hard or absolutely hard so often, I didn’t really remember being any other way.

  And now that I was in the room to be with her, to love her the way I was meant to, my hands trembled like a newb, like this was my first time seeing a naked woman. Not that I’d managed to remove a stitch of her clothing yet. Or do more than kiss her and fondle her ribcage. I was too afraid I wouldn’t be able to last once I saw her, or touched her, or tasted more than her tongue.

  Lila was not so afflicted. She pushed my shirt up, kissed her way from my jaw to my throat to my chest. Every touch of her lips was a sensation like no other before, tingling and throbbing, but more. My dragon purred, then growled like a bipolar sexual temperature gauge when she moved from the center of my chest to a nipple.

  I let her explore because once I touched her and saw her, I wouldn’t be able to give her time. The dragon inside me knew not of patience, and my own need rippled through me. She pulled my nipple between her teeth, applying the barest amount of pressure, and my dick twitched. Blood surged straight south, and my zipper strained against the pressure beneath.

  Fact was, if I didn’t slow her down, this wasn’t going to be much more than an embarrassment for me and a disappointment for her. I, for one, would never recover. Tripping over my words was one thing. This was entirely different.

  I stilled her hands and tilted her head up so I could see her eyes, clouded with passion and desire. She was beautiful, perfect. My destiny. The dragon in me paced, growled, and wanted her now. He wanted to claim her and keep her for the rest of our lives. But she wasn’t ready for that yet, and I didn’t want to scare her.

  Lila kissed my collarbone and pushed my shirt up until it only made sense to lift my arms and pull it off. She stared like I was the best ice cream in the shop, then she smiled and flung her shirt over her shoulder so it landed on the opposite side of the bed. But when she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it slide down her arms, I watched, mesmerized, desperate, hands fisted to keep them to myself. My breaths came in hard chugs of air, and I wanted to touch her, to reach out and feel the silken expanse of skin.

  When she held out her hand, I took it, not touching anything else until she gave me a sign that she was ready to let me start a little exploration of my own. Something about this woman made me want to be better, to deserve her. And I wanted to be the man who made her dreams come true. And God, I hoped she’d been dreaming of this. I certainly had, every single night since I met her.

  She lay on her back as I slid next to her, splayed my hand on her belly, just above the waistband of her knit pants. My little finger twitched, as antsy as the rest of me to be so close to her.

  I kissed her because I couldn’t not kiss her. I couldn’t lie there, looking down at her, and not want what I wanted. Sh
e tasted like honey and peaches, and her hot touch lit a fire low in my gut. Her hair fanned out on the pillow, and I pushed a piece off her forehead, the skin there like silk.

  She laid one hand over my heart and let the other stroke the skin at my spine, from the middle of my back to the top curve of my ass. I inched my hand up until she arched her back, and I didn’t need more encouragement to cup one breast and lower my head to kiss, lick, tease and love the other.

  Her breath hitched and she held my head against her breast. “Leath.” My name wasn’t more than a whisper, but it slid along my skin, landed in my heart.

  When I moved to the other side, she moaned and sighed, wrapped her leg around my hip, and ground against me. I pulled away and pushed her onto her back so I could slow us down and take my time worshipping her. She whimpered, and I kissed her again until she was pliant and needy.

  Her hand skimmed down my back, landed at the rear waistband, dove in, and massaged, and I wanted to lie on top of her, but not until she was begging, until she needed me as much as I needed her.

  I kissed her, untangled from the circle of her arms, and then brushed a line of more open-mouth kisses down her stomach before swirling my tongue around her belly button. I gently sucked the soft skin just below it and slipped my fingers into the sides of her pants, tugged, then sat up so I could pull them and her panties off.

  And if I expected to be able to look at her, naked and glorious, without losing a little more of myself to her, then I was wrong. I would never be able to be with anyone else ever again. She was more than I dreamed, more than I imagined, and I wanted to kiss every inch of her.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  She squirmed. “Stop looking.”

  “Never.”

  But I did start touching. I slid my hands up her legs, from ankle to calf, knee to thigh, my lips following the trail my fingers blazed. Her silky skin tasted like coconut, and I longed to taste more of her. I glanced up and found her watching me hungrily as I hovered above her most intimate place, the mere scent of her nearly enough to drive me to a horribly embarrassing end.