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Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4) Page 6
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“But then you would be a killer,” she said.
He shrugged. “I told you. I’m not some hero like you’re making me out to be.” His eyes roamed over her. “Unless thinking of me like a hero is more likely to get me in your pants.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No. No pants.”
“No pants?” he asked. “I like the sound of that.”
She swatted at him, then focused back on the road. She was finally starting to feel a little more relaxed in his presence. Despite the fact that he radiated danger, it truly didn’t feel like he would hurt her.
It really seemed he was on her side.
“I am,” he said quietly. “I promise you.”
She nodded but didn’t answer. Instead, she just enjoyed the sound of the rain and kept herself focused on the road so she could get them to their destination.
Which was hard when her eyes kept wanting to look at the dragon in the passenger seat.
“So this should be more private?” Alistair asked, scanning around the woody clearing where the small but nice cabin was located. It was hidden off a small side road and tucked into the woods, as if whoever had built it were looking to never be found if they didn’t want to be.
“Yes,” she said. “Unless shifters are looking at vacation rentals, they should totally overlook this place.”
“Vacation rentals?”
“Like it’s someone’s home part of the year, but they get private renters the rest of the time.”
“And you’re sure you can trust these people?”
“As much as you can trust a motel,” she said. “You seen Psycho? No, of course you haven’t.”
“Why?” he asked, picking up their stuff to carry it up the front steps.
It was peaceful here, everything kept in good order, and the cabin was more like a cottage. Cozy. He wouldn’t mind staying here a couple days, if they could actually plan on being safe.
He doubted that, though.
There was a rocking swing on the porch, suspended by two chains hanging from the roof, overlooking the deck.
With the trees high around them and nothing modern in sight, even though it was nothing like the world he’d known, he felt a little more at home here.
She unlocked the door using keys that were hidden in a box at the side of the house, and when he walked in, he was even more impressed with the accommodations.
“Two bedrooms,” she said, looking at the stairs that led up to the second floor.
Hm.
She set Scrangey down, and he walked over to the couch and claimed it with a mew. He was looking much cleaner after a bath at the last place, and the white and black of his fur were actually quite pretty.
Alistair sat next to Scrangey with a sigh. “Well, we’re here, aren’t we?”
“I’ll get dinner ready,” Bridget said, taking a couple of the plastic bags into the kitchen.
“Better go help her,” he said to the cat, standing. He found her at the small, round wooden table, pulling out packages of meat and loaves of prewrapped bread.
“I can help,” he offered.
“Nah,” she said. “You keep Scrangey company. I’m fine here.”
But he wanted to stay there with her. She was so capable. So strong. You’d never know what she’d been through in the past few days.
She was just solid, like an iron stake waves had to blast around. Immovable.
And so loyal.
What would it be like to have all that loyalty she had for Lana directed toward someone like him? The bitter bite of jealousy moved through him, and he sat on a chair next to the table and glared up at her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, green eyes mellow and relaxed, as she spread some kind of suspicious-looking sauce on the bread.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Mayo,” she answered. “Made of eggs and oil.”
He made a face. “I don’t understand it. Bread, butter, and a little meat is all you need.” He looked at one of the packages of meat. “And I’ve never seen meat like this.”
“It’s deli meat,” she said on a sigh. “They really did feed you crap when you were imprisoned.”
He shrugged. “Everything is crap compared to what I’m used to. What I used to have.”
“The best of everything,” she said before he could, and he fought back a flush as he nodded. “Sorry, but as I said, we have other priorities.”
He nodded and went back to glaring.
Ever since they’d escaped, he’d been feeling more and more attracted to her. Drawn to her. But she was either fighting it really hard or not reciprocating at all.
Which was so irritating.
Thunder cracked and rain started again, dampening his mood as the sky darkened, shadowing the window slightly.
“More rain,” she said, looking up at the droplets streaming over the glass.
“Yeah,” he said grumpily.
“You don’t like rain?” she asked.
“I just find if I’m already in a bad mood, it exacerbates it.”
“That makes sense.” She walked past him to pull out paper plates and slide their sandwiches onto them. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he said, eyeing it doubtfully.
“You want to eat outside on the porch?” she asked. “It’s so pretty out there, and the overhang will keep the rain off. Plus, I love the rain. Love watching it.”
“The only thing the rain is good for is kissing,” he blurted out, following her to the front door.
She turned back toward him, her cheeks going pink under her freckles. “What?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. Sure, let’s eat out here on the swing.”
They sat down together, awkward. She started eating first, with that matter-of-fact demeanor she always had.
He studied her profile, the pert nose, the delicate cheekbones, the rounded cheeks and soft chin. The green in her eyes was the color of the forest, deep and soothing. Her brows were strong and arched. And her hair was the color of sand after rain.
Curse it, he was actually waxing poetic about her.
He took a bite out of his sandwich out of pure frustration and was surprised to find it actually tasted pretty good. “This is nice,” he commented, enjoying the way their sides touched as they sat together, the swing slightly moving back and forth.
The cool breeze from the forest smelled fragrant and piney with the fresh rain falling around them.
He took a moment to just be grateful he was out here, free, alive, with no walls containing him.
The wood of the swing creaked, and Bridget looked over at him. “You all right?”
“I should be asking you that,” he said. “You’ve been through more than me in the past few days.”
“No,” she said. “You were captured and held captive and are now in a whole new world. You have every right to be upset, too.”
“I don’t get upset,” he said. “I get even.”
She nodded. “I guess I can’t blame you. But I do think it’s a waste of your time.”
“A waste of time to protect others from them?”
“Are you really doing that, though?” she asked. “Or is it simply revenge? Because if you’re going to kill that many, when you don’t even know how involved some of them are, that makes you more of a villain than a hero.”
“I don’t really care if I’m a villain,” he countered. “In this story, maybe I am. In another, I may be the hero. It’s all about opinion.”
She shrugged, brushing her long, blond ponytail over her shoulder.
“Can I see your hair down?” he asked.
“You’ve seen it,” she said.
“I know, but I couldn’t feel it.” He grabbed the end of her ponytail and played with it. “Can I feel it?”
She pulled back. “I told you nothing is happening between us.”
He kept her hair between two fingers and met her eyes, feeling the heat rising between their bodies.
She felt him. He knew it.
&nb
sp; “Fine. Nothing. But you can still let me see your hair free.”
She sighed and pulled off her hairband, letting the hair fall over her shoulders as she ran her fingers through it. “I hate having it in a ponytail anyway. It makes my scalp sore.” She kneaded her head in consternation.
“Let me do that.”
She shot him a glare. “No.”
“Come on,” he said. “Sit in front of me. I can help. It’ll feel good.”
She looked suspicious but finally yielded. This would be the way to deal with her. Slowly wearing her down. She sat on the porch in front of him, leaning back on her hands and looking out at the rain.
He lifted her hair in his hands, feeling the softness of it, and the urge to wrap his hands up in it, to make her his, was overwhelming. But he let the hair rest softly against her back as he began to weave his fingers through it, gently grazing her scalp.
She let out a little gasp and then relaxed, leaning her head back, giving him more access.
Her hair and skin were soft, and he loved working his hands through, kneading, pulling, hearing her breathing increase even as her body relaxed against his legs.
He felt her head tilt against his fingers, seeking more contact, and would knead wherever she tilted and then pull his hands through with gentle pressure.
Her hair was much thicker than he ever would have guessed and it must be heavy on her smaller head.
“Do you want me to do this for you?” she asked. “Your hair probably makes you tired, too.”
“No,” he said. “It’s not as long or as thick as yours. And besides, I have beyond strong skin.”
She laughed. “Diamond skin… or something like that?”
“Something like that.” He agreed, though it was hard to talk with his throat tight and dry with arousal.
He wanted her. He wanted to give her more than a hair massage or a kiss on the forehead. He really, really wanted her, and he had no idea why the desire was becoming so strong.
The rain continued to fall at a gentle, rhythmic pace, and he felt himself slowly soothed as he continued to play with her hair, her body calming against him and his own body relaxing.
They might be in the woods, away from everything, and on the run from dangerous people, but to him, it felt like a little bit of paradise.
“What was that you were saying about kissing in the rain?” she asked.
He snorted, releasing her hair after twisting it a few times so it fell in a roll. “I just think it’s particularly pleasing. Exciting. But I would never suggest something with a brand-new kisser.” Perhaps the pull-away method would work with her.
“Why not?” she asked indignantly, turning to look up at him. Seeing her there, between his legs, made his cock twitch.
“You haven’t kissed anyone,” he said. “It’d be way too advanced for you.”
“It’s kissing,” she retorted. “How hard could it be?”
“Besides,” he said, “you said you didn’t want anything, and I don’t want to be like Galen, stealing a first kiss when it’s unwanted.”
She was quiet then, but her eyes remained heated. Something about the quiet massage had gotten her going. He could feel the want as tangibly as he could see her breath making little puffs in the air.
“What if it isn’t unwanted?”
“You just said you didn’t want anything,” he said firmly, liking how the more he turned her down, the more she seemed to want him.
“I just…” She rested her head on his knee as she thought about it. “I guess I just… can’t fight it anymore.”
He pulled her up on the seat with him. “You’ve been fighting it?”
She nodded. “I mean, you’re hot. I’ve obviously thought that since the first time I saw you. But I’ve been trying to focus on Lana. On my goals. And today, on keeping us safe.”
“I’m going to keep us safe,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’m the one who knows this world. I’m responsible.”
“Yeah, but I’m a dragon, and while I’m around, no one is going to hurt you.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Who protects you?”
That stunned him, but he recovered quickly. “I do, obviously.”
She reached up a hand to stroke his cheek. “I think you deserve someone to watch out for you, too.”
“But you don’t want to be the one to do it.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said. “It’s all confusing. We barely know each other. And we’re both in trouble.”
“Yet the world isn’t closing in on us right now,” he said. “We’re all alone. No shifters around. No cages.” He looked out at the forest. “And it’s beautiful.”
She nodded. “I guess so.”
“And when you came down to see me, didn’t you ever wonder? Didn’t you ever fantasize about me, lying up there in your bed?”
She averted her eyes, but her flush deepened as she made a quick nod. “I couldn’t help it.”
He grinned. Maybe it was just the food or the beautiful scenery or the closeness brought on by the touch between them, but everything seemed possible now. She wasn’t pushing him away.
“So maybe just a kiss, then?” he asked. “You could do worse than to have your first kiss from a dragon.”
“Just a kiss, then.” She submitted.
“I should warn you a kiss usually leads to more.”
She shook her head, her pretty blond hair shaking around her, becoming fuller and a little wavy with the humidity. Between that and the hot look in her eyes, there was a sultry feel to her that made him instantly ready.
“I haven’t kissed anyone because I think that should happen with feelings. But I guess a kiss isn’t so much. And if I hold off too long, it could happen with someone awful, like it almost did. But any more than that I feel should only happen between people who have feelings for each other.”
“Feelings?” he asked. “What do you mean? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I mean like serious feelings. Like getting married kinds of feelings.”
“I can see why you haven’t kissed anyone.”
“It honestly hasn’t seemed that appealing with anyone, and I’ve been busy. And then, you know, when you’ve waited so long, you just think, I might as well wait for the right one. But then something like what happened with Galen happens and makes you realize it’s stupid to place so much importance on it.”
“Okay,” he said, standing and stretching. “Just kissing, then.”
“One kiss,” she corrected, taking his hand and standing as he pulled her in against him and tilted her chin up. “Don’t you want to go in the rain?” she asked, her warm breath teasing him, making steam against the cold air around them.
His arm snaked around her waist. “No, I want to kiss you right here, sheltered from the rain, with the sound and feel of it all around us.”
She nodded, biting her lip and pulling it through her teeth slowly enough to make him ache.
This was Bridget. His escape partner. His friend when he’d been in captivity.
Why did it feel so important that he be the first one to kiss her? The only one to kiss her?
He didn’t know, even as his lips slid over hers, fitting them together perfectly, filling his empty heart with a warmth he’d never known.
What he knew was, now that he’d had a taste of her, he was never going to get enough of this woman.
Chapter 7
Bridget closed her eyes as pleasure washed through her unlike anything she’d imagined, and she relaxed into Alistair’s iron-strong, supportive grip.
Her hands came up to press on his chest, and she loved the feel of his arm around her.
She was still so embarrassed to admit she’d fantasized, but after how good he’d made her feel just touching her hair, she couldn’t hold back anymore.
He was hot, and she might not have another chance to take her first kiss on her own terms.
&
nbsp; And this was one she’d always remember, with the rain falling around them, cool breeze swirling but unable to reach them, and the soft shelter of the trees and the cabin.
But the biggest shelter was in his arms.
In his kiss was a promise, gentle and tender and nothing like she’d pictured. But then he coaxed her lips open, and the kiss grew hotter, more urgent, his tongue seeking access to her deepest spaces.
When she recovered from the sheer pleasure of it, she met his tongue with hers, stroking tentatively as he let out a low groan against her mouth.
Her hands moved down over his hard waist to his trim hips, tempted to go even lower as he grinned against her mouth and reached for her hands to stop her.
His palms were slightly rough against her hands as he captured them and brought them up to his shoulders again. “Ah-ah, princess. You do that and I won’t be able to stop at just a kiss.” He took a deep breath, resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t know if I can anyway.”
She reached up, trying to start the kiss again, but he pulled back slightly, handsome features hesitant.
“I want this. You know I do. But you said one kiss, and if we go much further, I’m going to lose it.”
“Lose it?” she asked, feeling her heart thrumming in her chest and an odd, heated pleasure moving through her.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never felt like this before. Like a single kiss could own me.”
Her heart thumped at that. She would never tell him, but that sounded an awful lot like having feelings.
And why shouldn’t they? They’d been seeing each other for some time, even if it hadn’t been in the best of circumstances.
The only thing she wished was she could have freed him sooner. But she also knew she couldn’t have betrayed Lana.
It was a tough situation.
“Don’t think about that now,” he said, running his hand gently over her hair and cupping her face. “I’m not kissing you well enough if you can think like that.”
Then he lowered his lips for another kiss, and she luxuriated in how soft they were, the masculine feel of them, the strength of his arms.
Being kissed by a man like this was worth any wait.
She wrapped her hands in his hair, surprised by how it was coarser than hers. He was so impossibly tall that she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, but he lowered to meet her, and she thrust her tongue into his mouth, urgently wanting more.