THE MATING MAGIC: Werewolves of Montana Book 13

by Vanak, Bonnie

  When he released her, Evie was the one touching him, her palms flattened against his chest. Her mouth against his skin, trailing tiny kisses over the hard line of his jaw, his throat.

  A sharp intake of breath as she saw the blue dragon marking the upper right quadrant of his chest.

  Her soft palm rested on his thigh. “Drust’s mark, the one he gave you upon becoming his apprentice. I’ve seen it but never asked. Did it hurt?”

  A quiet statement. He nodded. “A little.”

  More like a hot knife driven into his skin, but he didn’t want to distress her.

  Moisture gathered in her eyes. Chase reached up and wiped a tear threatening to spill from her eyes. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

  “I feel like this is a dream and I’ll wake up and it will all be over,” she whispered. “After your parents’ party I resigned myself to never being with you again.”

  Chase held her gaze, willing her to see the truth. “I won’t let go, Evie. You’re the one woman who’s accepted me for who I am, not for my family’s name or prestige. When I’m with you, I have strength I never knew I possessed. You make me want to be a better male.”

  She gave him a little push so he fell against the bed on his back. Evie bent her head and kissed his dragon marking, her soft, warm mouth sliding over the ink. Then she continued kissing him down the length of his body.

  Those tender kisses ignited a fire inside him he knew would never dampen. She kissed the inside of his thigh, need flaring to the point of pain.

  Evie stopped and stroked a finger along the underside of his rigid cock.

  He dragged in a deep breath as she encased his erection in her hand and took him into her mouth.

  Closing his eyes, he let his head drop back as her sweet mouth caressed him.

  The exquisite pleasure of Evie, her scent swimming in his nostrils, the softness of her lips against his aching flesh, the little humming sound she made, drove him wild. Her pink tongue delicately flicked the rounded knob of his straining cock.

  Desperate to get inside her, he pulled away. Evie sat back, hair tumbling around her shoulders, pink suffusing her cheeks. His gaze dropped to the lush swell of her breasts, rose pink nipples standing to points. She looked so pretty. So sexy. Feeling the last of his control fracture, he fisted his hands to control their shaking.

  He wanted to take her hard and fast.

  He wanted to make the pleasure last, too.

  Chase reached for her, his Evie, the one woman he knew he’d want forever.

  However long forever lasted.

  Chase was not like other dragons she knew. Right now he was nearly as powerful as Drust himself. But here, in bed, he would always be her Chase, the good-natured male who won her heart when he’d gallantly insisted on walking on their first date after discovering her malformed wing. Never making her feel inferior or self-conscious, only loving her for who she was.

  Evie wanted this dragon badly, skin to skin, their naked bodies sweat-slicked and rubbing against each other. Lacey had said Chase needed to regain his humanity again, the one thing that could save him.

  Perhaps making love would help, remind him of his mortality.

  They rolled on the bed, tangling together.

  Chase touched her, his palms skimming up the small of her back, stroking the curve of her spine. “I love it when I get you all wet and ready for me,” he muttered against her mouth. “I love those little cries you make when you come.”

  Then he fisted a hand in her hair, bent her head back and kissed her with such passion, she could barely breathe. Evie could think of nothing but Chase, his spicy taste in her mouth as he kissed her hard and deep, his skin slick and firm against hers, the silky hairs on his naked thighs rubbing against hers.

  He stopped a minute, worry creasing his brow. “Am I too rough?”

  In answer, she pulled him down to her again. Evie opened her thighs, exposing herself to him, the first man she’d ever given her body to. Chase slipped a hand between her legs and caressed her, drawing a finger through her swollen folds. Little gasps came from her mouth as she clutched him, her mouth tasting the salty slickness of the hard curve of his shoulder. Evie nipped him lightly, earning a deep groan. With a thumb, he teased her clit and then sank a finger deep inside her. Every delicious stroke worked incredible magick on her, cranking the sweet tension higher until she was panting. She was so close, close…

  Chase’s mouth encased her nipple. He bit lightly.

  Screaming, she shattered from the pleasure, her nails digging into the hard muscles of his back.

  Pride and masculine possession shone in his gaze as he sat back, watching her. Chase reached into his nightstand and withdrew a foil packet.

  A twinkle glinted in his eyes as he held up the packet. “I stocked this drawer with plenty of these for the day when you and I finally made love here, in this house.”

  Trembling, she lay back, watching him slip on the condom.

  His limbs were long and sturdy and roped with muscle. Wide shoulders gave way to the classic V of narrow waist and hips.

  Then he was nudging her thighs open, settling between them. Chase laced his fingers between hers, his muscled weight pinning her down.

  The position was sweetly intimate. Chase’s body atop hers, his hard chest pressed against her soft breasts, his sleekly muscled flanks entwined with her slender legs, his heated gaze fused to hers. She felt certain she was the only one who mattered to him now.

  Chase lowered his mouth and dropped a singularly sweet kiss on her lips.

  The hard knob of his cock slid against her soaked folds. The slow, teasing move made her grit her teeth. An impish grin, so typically Chase, warned he knew exactly how the motion drove her crazy. Evie rolled her hips upward.

  He thrust hard into her, pushing past the resistance of her tiny internal muscles, sealing them hip and hip. Evie flinched a little. Always the first entry her core resisted, as if her body tried to prevent his claiming her. Letting him into the most private part of her body…her heart.

  “Ah sweet goddess, you feel so damn tight. So fucking good,” he muttered. Concern flared in his gaze. “You okay, Evie?”

  She drew a long, trembling sigh. “Now I am.”

  Pleasure rippled through her as he began to move. Slowly out and then back inside her, building the heat between them. All the while his gaze was warm and soft, the look on his face telling her this was more than sex.

  More than making love.

  Passion consumed them, sending them spiraling together into erotic bliss as his hips drove harder and faster. She pushed upward, meeting his frantic moves. Evie tightened her hands around his as the crisp hair on his chest rubbed against her sensitive nipples. She squeezed hard around him, feeling the incredible pressure build until she cried out and climaxed again, gasping for air, feeling as if she were flying, soaring higher and higher.

  And would never descend.

  Chase closed his eyes and threw his head back, the corded muscles on his neck straining as he gave one last thrust. His cock twitched inside her as Chase shouted her name. He bucked and shuddered against her.

  Wrapping her arms around him, she held him close as he collapsed atop her, his muscled weight pressing her against the soft mattress. Chase’s ragged breathing bellowed into her ear as he pillowed his head next to hers.

  Finally he pushed himself off, sat on the bed’s side and disposed of the condom. Evie felt a sudden chill at his business-like actions. Was this only sex? Or something more?

  But then he joined her again, pulling her into his arms and sweetly kissing her forehead. For a long few minutes, they lay together, Evie stroking the sweat-dampened hairs on his muscled chest.

  “Incredible.”

  He playfully touched her nose. “Yes, I am.”

  Laughing, she swatted at his hand. “Conceited.”

  His smile dropped. “Not if it’s the truth… and only because I have you, Evie.”

  As he kissed her again, she felt
desire flare once more. But in the back of her mind, she knew they were running out of time. How soon before Drust found him, and was forced to kill him?

  Chapter 10

  The shop was dusty and dark when Lacey entered. She let the CLOSED sign remain that way and headed toward the back. Wood shelves containing jars of herbs neatly lined the walls. Twists of fake lavender vine with fairy lights threaded through beams overhead gave the store an ethereal mystical feeling. Skins loved that. They enjoyed the calming fresh lavender she set out each morning, and the feistier eucalyptus she sprinkled here and there on the larger price items to nudge them into purchasing.

  No magick, though. The Brehon frowned upon Others using magick to coerce Skins into buying things. The world of Others must remain secret.

  The counter where one could fix a free cup of herbal tea or partake in blueberry-infused cold water was bare, along with the two bistro tables Lacey had set outside for cooler weather. As a whimsical touch, and to inform good witches she was witch-friendly, a straw broom was on display in the bay window. Most witches who frequented the shop were friendly, although one or two had requested a drop of her blood to make potions. In the past Lacey had refused, but lately, she’d considered selling it.

  Dragon’s blood was potent to witches, and valuable. She sighed as she opened the cash register and looked at the empty drawer. Sad thing when a dragon had to sell blood to survive these days.

  Crystals for balancing chakras were arranged in pretty woven baskets on display tables in the store’s center. Salt lamps to promote soothing vibrations were arranged prominently near the store’s front. Skins loved them.

  The shop rang with harmony and peace, or it once did, anyway. Lacey looked around, trying to summon her usual optimism. Hard to do when your sister was off trying to coax a giant flying egotistical power beacon into wading into monster-infected swamp waters and your rent was due, along with dozens of other bills.

  Ever since the older dragon had given her the Book of Shadows, her troubles seemed to have increased. And yet the ancient book sang to her, not with promises of riches and power the seller declared it held, but something deeper and more meaningful.

  Something she had not felt in a long time.

  She unlocked a cabinet where all her personal papers were kept and rummaged through the carefully arranged boxes until finding a tattered cardboard box decorated with seashells.

  Not even Evie knew of this box, nor its contents.

  Lacey opened the lid and withdrew a faded photograph of a 14-year-old giggling girl and a smiling woman, arms around each other.

  That had been the best day, a full day at the beach together, laughing, talking, splashing in the water. The best day, right after her mother rescued her from the foster home where she and Evie had lived.

  The best day before finances got tight and disease ravaged the woman’s body.

  “Mom, I miss you,” she whispered. “Why did you have to die?”

  Guilt riddled her. Her mother had run the shop for years with Lacey’s help. In the end, nothing, not the plethora of herbs nor the healing crystals, had saved her. Nothing, despite all Lacey’s attempts to find a cure for the wasting sickness that left her once-healthy mother a bag of bones with sunken cheeks.

  To honor dragon tradition, she’d burned her body, scattered her mother’s ashes to the sky.

  To honor Skin tradition, she planted a tree in memory of her mother, next to the one she’d planted for the father she’d never met, who’d died before Lacey’s birth.

  No use fretting about the past. Lacey tucked away the box and began searching the shelves for the dried lilies.

  Toenails clicked on the hardwood floor. Smiling Lacey turned around. “Ready for dinner?”

  The dog barked and wagged its tail. Still unsure of what breed, for it was medium-sized, with wiry fur and a happy air, she’d settled for calling him Lucky. Every night for the past six months the stray dog had shown up at the back door and she’d fed him. Finally when the weather turned unusually cold, she’d brought him into the shop, building him a doggie door so he could let himself out at night as he needed.

  Lucky followed Lacey to the back room as she grabbed a plastic container filled with dog food and a steel bowl.

  “Do you always take in strays?” a deep, amused voice asked.

  Lacey froze, the dog bowl shaking in her trembling hands. She knew this disembodied voice. Summoning all her courage, she turned around.

  Drust sat on an empty counter, swinging his long legs. Swallowing hard, she carefully set down the bowl.

  “Only when they need it.” She focused on pouring the food into the bowl.

  Lucky loped over to the wizard, lifting his head and wagging his tail hopefully. To her shock the wizard bent down and scratched behind his ears.

  “Dogs are wonderful,” he murmured.

  The dragon wizard liked … dogs?

  Maybe somewhere beneath all that blue velvet beat a heart.

  “Disobedient dragons like you, on the other hand, challenge my patience.”

  Or maybe not.

  “You’ll get the potion back.” In one form or another. “I’m afraid I misplaced it, which is one reason why I’m searching the shop. If you’ll excuse me, I have to feed Lucky first.”

  “Lucky?” Drust arched a black eyebrow. “Fortunate name.”

  Ha. She didn’t dare laugh.

  “That’s what I named him. I don’t know his real name, or what his former owners called him. He turned up outside the shop one day and I adopted him.” Lacey finished pouring kibble into the bowl. Lucky began gulping down his dinner.

  Still a fast eater, as if the dog feared the food would be taken away from him. Always, it twisted Lacey’s heart. Maybe someday Lucky would eat slowly, realizing the food would be there, no matter what.

  “Why do you help him?”

  The wizard didn’t seem threatening. Still, Lacey chose her words carefully. She stroked the dog’s head, and he looked up, wagging his tail. Progress.

  “Because someone needs to. The poor thing has been abandoned and mistreated, and needs a little love. Doesn’t everyone?”

  For a moment Drust said nothing. Then he nodded. “Yes,” he murmured. “They do.”

  Never had she seen this quiet, reflective side of the wizard, only the forbidding and stern Drust. Her usual confidence fled. Lacey stood, twisted her hands, unsure what to do with them.

  “I have an affinity for stray dogs,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

  “Ah yes. Tristan would approve of that, being a stray dog himself.”

  A small ball of energy suddenly sailed through the air toward Drust. He leaned and the ball smashed into a tower of glass herb jars. Drust rolled his eyes and flicked a hand, repairing the broken jars.

  Lacey didn’t know what to think about that.

  As she set out fresh water for the dog, she kept stealing glances at the wizard, who seemed content to sit on the empty counter and look around. Drust might have seemed imposing and formidable, but when relaxed, he was quite cute. No, not a good word. Distinguished and handsome. With his ebony hair, close-trimmed black beard and mustache, classic cheekbones and strong jaw, he was good-looking but those steely blue-gray eyes seared straight to your soul…

  He was lean and tall, but in that outfit hard to tell. Her thoughts drifted to imagining him clad in simple chinos, a black V-neck T-shirt, and bare feet.

  No, not bare feet, perhaps hiking boots, and a stick in hand as he climbed up a steep path, whistling a tune.

  Lucky at his side, clambering up the rocks and barking at squirrels, while she led the way, carrying a backpack for their picnic at the summit…

  Lacey shook off the image, silently laughing at herself. Chase was still out there, perhaps endangering Others or Skins, maybe even her sister. And she was daydreaming about a date with Drust?

  Drust caught her glance and gave a knowing smile. A flush suffused Lacey’s face. Dear goddess, he was a powerful immort
al and probably could read her thoughts.

  Lacey headed back into the front room of the store and began rummaging through the supplies of herbs for the dried water lilies. Mom had meticulously arranged each jar in alphabetical order, but after her death, Lacey put the more popular herbs up front for customers and categorized everything according to need.

  It helped in sales, but not at a time like this when she was in a rush and had an inquisitive wizard in her shop.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Drust stroll alongside the shelves, hands behind his back. Lucky had abandoned his food to walk with the immortal, tongue lolling, tail wagging, as if the damn dog belonged to Drust.

  So much for food issues…and loyalty.

  Water lilies, water lilies. Did she place them with the flowers or with the water plants?

  This is worse than going into my grocery store after they’ve rearranged all the aisles and I end up in the toilet paper aisle when all I want is a bag of sugar.

  Drust made her nervous. He didn’t state why he was here, and that made her even more uneasy. Maybe he planned to turn her into something she sold in one of those jars…

  Finally, she whirled and faced him. “Okay, tell me. Why are you here? It isn’t because you need to purchase herbs or you harbor a fondness for stray dogs.”

  Picking up a jar labeled TOADSTOOL NIGHTSHADE, he studied it. “I am waiting for you to tell me the truth of why you are here in your shop, Lacey McGuire, when you claimed the Bloodmoon flower potion is at your home.”

  Blood drained from her face and her stomach gave a sickening lurch. Caught. No use summoning excuses or stammering out explanations. Oh well.

  Here goes. If I get turned into toad fodder, sorry Evie. Good thing I updated my will and left you the house, ratty as it is, and the shop.

  First, a little protective measure…

  “I’ll tell you if you put down the toadstools. They’re poisonous to dragons.”

  As he raised a brow, but set down the jar, she added, “And if you promise nothing will happen to Evie.”

  Both eyebrows raised now. “You ask only for the one you call sister, and not for yourself? Why?”