by Riley Storm
“When do you need to be out by?” he asked when Claire didn’t speak up again.
It would take him only a few minutes to cover the distance back to her place. He had no vehicle at the moment, but he still wanted to be with Claire, both to protect her, but also to comfort her.
He suspected she would be needing it. A lot had happened to her tonight. She would need his support, his strength, and most of all, he believed, his presence. Whether she knew it or not was a different matter, but he intended to offer her whatever she could need to get through.
“I’m already gone,” Claire said flatly.
Pietro stiffened. “Where are you?” he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.
They’d been talking on the phone this entire time, and Claire had been out of the house? The vampires could snatch her at any time! She clearly wasn’t thinking straight, her emotions frayed and ragged after the argument with her parents. Otherwise, she never would have done something like this.
“Sitting in the parking lot of Peaks Pub,” she said dully, naming one of the other bars in town, one that wasn’t frequented by dragons.
It wasn’t far from his location, and Pietro had already pivoted and headed off in a new direction. This time, he quickly checked behind him before crossing the street, his senses now on full alert.
“I can be there shortly,” he told her. “Just hang tight and stay on the phone until I get there, okay?”
He adjusted the phone to take a better grip on it and started jogging, his pace quickly reaching a near flat out sprint for a human.
“Yeah,” Claire said with a heavy sigh. “I’m not going anywhere, I guess.”
Pietro wanted to chide her for leaving the house unprotected, for not calling him first, but he bit back his words. Claire was broken. Her mind not thinking straight. The fight with her parents must have turned ugly. He wished, not for the first time, that he’d been there to help her out, but that hadn’t been what Claire wanted.
Maybe she was kicked out, instead of choosing to leave? That would explain a lot…
Neither of them spoke as he ran. The only sounds were his slightly heavier breathing and her low, slow breaths in his ear, all that he had to assure himself that Claire was still there.
Rounding the corner, he sighted a small blue car that he assumed to be Claire’s, parked back against the street, facing the pub. He slowed his jog, looking around warily just in case the Hunters had set a trap, but he didn’t spy anything.
Claire saw him coming and looked up, her eyes meeting his. The brightness was gone, the normally shining amber-gold dulled, the brilliance put out. She looked haunted.
No, she looks defeated.
“Hey,” he said as he approached her door, trying not to wince at the fact she’d had the window down this entire time.
That just made it all the easier for a vampire to take her.
Not now.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
His eyes darted to the rear of the car. It was full of bags. Pietro frowned. It looked like she was loaded down with everything she’d brought back to Five Peaks with her.
“Where to?” she asked as he slid into the passenger seat.
He told her and sat back into silence, guiding her to his place. It was a townhouse in a newer section of town. Nothing overly fancy or big, but then again, it wasn’t his permanent residence. Like many of the dragons, Pietro split his time between town and up on the mountain with his clan. He didn’t need a mansion for that, especially when it was just him.
Grabbing several bags from the back seat, he led the way up the front walk, opening the door and gesturing for Claire to go inside.
The door had barely closed behind him when he heard Claire put the small bag she was carrying down and take a shuddering breath.
Pietro could hold it in no longer. His desire to console her, to help her, was too great. He kicked off his shoes and went over to her, wrapping her up in a big hug. Claire sank into it gratefully, burying her head in his chest.
A moment later he felt her shake as the tears started.
Chapter Eighteen
Claire
Pietro’s arms wrapped her in their protective bubble, and at last she felt secure enough to cry. The tears started slowly, but as the emotions that had been bubbling up from deep within her grew stronger, full blown sobs began to fill her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Pietro said, stroking the back of her head. “Here, let me help you.”
She whimpered slightly in distress as he withdrew his arms but stopped when he bent down and undid her shoes, removing them one at a time and setting them aside. Then, he casually picked her up, cradling her into his arms as he walked over to a couch and sat down, still holding her tight against him.
Claire sat like that in his lap for an unknown amount of time. Tissues appeared for her to wipe her eyes and blow her nose, and she did so, feeling no judgment at all, despite the mess and sounds she was emitting.
No judgment from Pietro. Unlike from her parents.
“Why couldn’t they have just been angry?” she asked as the worst of the crying finally subsided, leaving her red-eyed and stuffy-nosed but able to at least talk without her voice cracking on every other word. “It would have been so much easier if they were angry with me.”
“Told you they were disappointed, did they?” Pietro asked in a knowing tone.
“Without the words, but yes. I—I’m not used to them showing no support for me,” she said quietly. “All my life, they’ve always been there for me, no matter what I did. Told me that I’d get over it, that I was strong enough to see past it or be the bigger woman. But not this time.”
Pietro was silent and almost still, except for the hand that continued to rub the back of her head, fingernails occasionally running along her skull with delightful scratching action. It was like he knew the perfect way to soothe her without even trying. She appreciated that. Probably more than he would ever know.
Sighing, she rested her head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with slow, powerful precision.
“It always hurts worse when they feel that way about you. Anger we can understand. Sometimes we even crave it,” Pietro told her. “Because we know anger subsides. It fades. Disappointment, however, is much more permanent. Unchanging. It takes a lot more to fix an issue that has left someone disappointed in you. What’s more, it makes us disappointed in ourselves.”
“Yeah,” she agreed as his hand slipped to her back, rubbing that now in slow soothing circles. “I’m sorry for making a mess of your shirt.”
The silver t-shirt was covered with huge wet stains from her tears.
“It’s just a shirt,” he said lightly. “It comes off. It washes. Absolutely nothing at all to worry about.”
“I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it at all?” Pietro asked, a gentle prod to see if there was more that she wanted to say, more emotions that needed to be addressed.
In translation, he was telling her that he was here for her and she could talk to him, if it would help.
“I don’t know,” she said, curling up deeper into his arms, basking in the protective feeling that filled her as he gave her a tight squeeze.
With Pietro around, there was little she had to fear. She was safe with him. From any sort of harm or judgment. It was a comforting feeling that spurred warmth and tiredness from within.
“Thank you,” she said quietly after a few minutes of silence had passed.
“For what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Everything,” she said, meaning his support. “But mainly for opening your place up to me on such short notice like this. I didn’t even have to ask, and you offered. It’s…it was very nice of you. You didn’t have to, and, well, I appreciate it. Not many folks are willing to help me out right now.”
Pietro snorted softly, the air from his nose tickling her hair slightly.
“It’s nothing, honestly. Besides, truthfully, I
feel a little responsible right now. The danger you’re in, preventing you from just going to a hotel or wherever, it’s kind of my fault. This helps me feel less guilty and also ensures that you’re safe, staying somewhere I can protect you.”
Claire swallowed, suddenly reminded about the dangers. In her dismay over the breech with her parents, she’d completely forgotten all about the vampires.
“That was really stupid of me, wasn’t it?” she said, thinking back over her actions in a new light. “Leaving the house like that? Oh man. I’m so dumb!”
“Nonsense,” Pietro rumbled vehemently, the bass of his voice vibrating through her upper body pleasantly as she lay on him. “You were caught up in some intense emotions. Plus, you aren’t used to dealing with supernatural threats.”
“They destroyed your truck an hour earlier,” she said. “I should have remembered. That was stupid. I won’t do that again, I promise.”
“I’m just glad you called me,” Pietro said, conceding the point but refusing to address it anymore. “I’m glad you didn’t spend very long alone.”
“Alone,” she repeated quietly. “That’s exactly how I feel. Alone.”
“Odd,” Pietro said. “Because you aren’t. Alone, I mean. In any sense of the word.”
Claire frowned. He was right, of course. She wasn’t alone. Pietro was here for her. Had been there for her ever since they’d run into one another at the bar the night before. From defending her from Pete, to paying her freaking bail, to fighting off creatures from another dimension, and now being there with a place for her to stay when her parents didn’t want her around.
There wasn’t much more she could ask for from him. He’d been nothing but a help. A good guy.
She laughed wryly to herself.
“Why couldn’t you be the type I’m interested in?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could truly think them over. “Oh, Pietro, I didn’t…I mean…”
You really are a jerk, girl. After everything he’s done for you, even now cuddling you and holding you tight, here you are telling him he’s not what you want.
To his credit though, Pietro didn’t seem offended. He just snorted again and smiled at her, as if he saw right through her question.
“Tell me something,” he said, responding with a question of his own. “Have you ever tried being interested in my type before?”
“Before?” she asked. “What do you mean ‘before’? The way you say it, you make it sound like I am now.”
Pietro frowned at her. “Claire. We’ve already kissed once and almost kissed a second time. You came to me for help. You are currently in my lap, cuddling with me.”
“Well…”
He shook his head. “Now, I’m not saying you’re in love with me or anything crazy. But come on, I think we’re past the point of ‘not interested’ at least.”
Claire broke away, looking down, Pietro’s words sinking home as she reacted to them, and thought them over some more.
Am I interested in him? Have I just been lying to myself? Telling myself that, because he’s not my usual type, I’m not interested?
Suddenly, she realized she was in his place, on his lap, in his arms.
And she liked it all.
Claire looked up, and from the wry smile Pietro gave her, she knew those thoughts were broadcast easily enough for him to interpret by the looks on her face.
If I am interested then…what happens next?
All at once her mouth went dry, and the room shrank around her as tension between the pair pressed in from all sides.
What do I do? Do I let this happen? What happens if I do?
What happens if I don’t?
Claire didn’t have any answers. But Pietro didn’t seem to care.
He bent down to cover her mouth with his anyway, taking charge, and leaving Claire with nothing to do but decide whether or not to let it happen.
What will I choose?
Chapter Nineteen
Claire
The choice was all but taken away from her as desire surged up without warning, filling her body with a singing need. A need that could only be quenched by one thing. By one person.
Pietro.
Claire didn’t just want him, in that moment. She needed him. Needed his touch. His taste. His smell. His everything. Her body reached out to latch onto that, both physically and mentally, pulling him down to her with a feral, nearly primal noise that was unmistakable in its intention and its ferocity.
No longer content to lean back, Claire’s hands moved of their own accord, pushing his shoulders back down into the couch. Squirming out of his grip, she clambered onto his lap, riding Pietro down into the cushions, pressing her body up against his.
Fingers tightened around her waist, and she hissed in delight at the pressure, the hunger that simple gesture indicated. Pietro kissed her hard, his tongue pushing her mouth open, taking her, controlling her, despite her position on his lap.
Claire moaned and rocked against Pietro. Part of her wanted to claw the clothes off him, to settle on his hips and feel him enter her without further delay. The fire that had been flickering unknown, deep within her, was blossoming with unexpected intensity.
Was it really so unexpected though? Or have I just been willfully pushing it aside, denying it to myself?
Pietro traced his way past her mouth and along her jaw, to her neck, where heat once more bloomed, a wave that washed over her mind, blurring everything, and crumbling her thoughts into nothing that could be termed cohesive.
Her shirt disappeared at some point as Pietro’s touch grew more intense, eagerly searching out more of her soft skin. The rushed, almost frantic exploration brushed aside any insecurities she might normally have had about her body. There was no faking the lust rippling off Pietro’s rock-hard body in successive waves, overwhelming her.
With a growl, he lifted her clear from the couch, standing up with a mighty flex of his body, muscles standing out under the skin. A seam on his shirt ripped somewhere, but she barely noticed as he rushed across the room and pressed her into a wall, tearing at her bra. The material was flimsy and weak in his hands, and the mighty dragon shifter nearly ripped it from her body before he could get it undone with one hand, the other wrapped around her waist to support her.
Claire gasped as his mouth quickly found a nipple, sucking it, rolling it around in circles and even applying gentle spikes of pressure that blasted her mind with unexpected pleasure. He knew her body somehow, knew how to work it, how to play it intimately, and there was little that Claire could do except go along for the ride.
Wrapping her hands around his head, Claire pulled him in tight to her, gasping and moaning in near unceasing confirmation that his touch was good.
No, not good. Great. Phenomenal.
“Take me,” she hissed in his ear. “Bedroom. Floor. I don’t care. Just take me now.”
Pietro twitched at her unexpected forwardness, but to his credit, he recovered swiftly, pulling back from her breasts to look in her eyes.
She didn’t know what he saw when his blue-green orbs stared at her, but something was answering within him. Something alien awoke deep in his gaze. Claire gasped. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Something almost…inhuman. And it was focused entirely on her.
Was this his dragon that she was seeing? The other entity that lived within him? Was it now awake and interested in her?
A shiver ran down her spine, tightening skin across her body at the same moment that Pietro pulled her away from the wall and walked through his house, down a darkened hallway and into a room.
Seconds later, she was sinking into a plush, luxurious bed as Pietro stood at the edge. She watched with wide, hungry eyes as he stripped off his shirt and, a moment later, the rest of his clothes. He stood naked, the light that filtered down the hallway framing his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms.
Claire found herself eagerly wriggling out of her own pants, but the process was interrupted by a s
avage growl as Pietro pulled the last of her clothes free from her body in one yank. Something might have torn, but Claire didn’t notice, because as soon as she was naked and exposed, Pietro was spreading her legs, dropping to his knees between them.
“Oh shit,” she half-yelped, half-moaned as pleasure and blinding heat blasted out from where he touched her. Kissed her. Licked her.
Giant fistfuls of comforter were gathered up in her hands as she twisted and writhed, back arching and bowing. There had been no buildup, no warning, and the intensity of his touch caught her unprepared, stealing breath and even vision from Claire in that first instant.
Everything shuddered, and she fought to draw in a breath as her lungs screamed for air. Moans swiftly became cries as her mind caught up to what was going on between her legs, where Pietro had grabbed a tight hold of her thighs, holding her down, taking command of her body as his tongue ran over her in blazing circles.
There was a brief respite to the pressure on her chest, allowing her to draw in a breath, but it was taken away a heartbeat later as a finger slipped inside her, Pietro doubling the avenues of pleasure he was inflicting upon her.
And it was too much.
Claire cried out, her back arching, breasts jutting toward the sky as she grabbed hold of them, holding on to her body while her climax pulsed out from between her legs. Her voice was wordless, but there was no mistaking the enjoyment in it.
As the moment waned and she sank down into a muscleless mass, Claire prepared to recharge.
Pietro had other ideas. A second finger slipped inside her, and his tongue lightened its touch and sped up.
“Oh god,” she moaned, trembling violently in his grip, unsure if she could handle it. “Pietro, I—”
His growl stole her protests away. Fingers tightened on her legs, keeping her under his control. Claire gasped at how subtly, yet easily, he dominated her. It was a casual display of strength. There was nothing scary about it, nothing intimidating.
Yet she was his nonetheless, and Pietro wasn’t letting himself be shy about declaring it. She would be subject to what he wanted.