Blue Moon Dragon (8 page)

Jack noticed gooseflesh forming on Emma and decided to take action. “Sorry to be a spoilsport, but I need Emma to come with me. Maybe you can finish the game tomorrow?”
Over his dead body
.

“Good,” said the slim blonde sitting on Emma’s right. “I’m getting cold, and I’m also chicken.” She laughed, gesturing at her pale pink panties. They were her sole remaining item of clothing. “I have a premonition I’m going to be the first one naked. I’m quitting while I’m ahead.”

Jack relaxed as the men started to drift away. “Ladies.” He inclined his head and turned to Emma. “Ready?”

Emma sensed he wasn’t pleased with her. It was in the set of his shoulders and the grim line of his mouth. Well, he could just deal. She had flushed out a few leads to check tomorrow, and she wasn’t going to apologize for her methods. Besides, she wasn’t the only one to bare her breasts tonight.

“It won’t take me long to get ready. I’ll meet you back here.”

Jack handed Emma her T-shirt, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. “I don’t think so.”

Damn, he was going to be difficult.

Emma pulled the shirt over her head and stepped into her denim shorts. She picked up her shoes, dropped them inside the canvas bag the spa had allowed her to keep and stalked toward their room. Jack fell into step behind her.

The walk back took forever. Emma was very conscious of Jack’s presence. She could feel his glare between her shoulder blades but that didn’t stop her adding an extra sway to her hips. Her nipples were already pulled tight from the chill of the night air, but now they tingled. She sucked in a hasty breath and hustled. The path changed from pavement to gravel, and she winced at the sharp stones beneath the soles of her feet.

“What’s wrong?” The tone was sharp enough to warn her he was on the edge of an explosion. Time to cease the teasing—for today at any rate.

“Bare feet,” she muttered.

Without warning, he swept her up and dangled her over his shoulder. Her butt poked into the air and blood rushed to her head. Her canvas bag hit his arse with each step.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked, kicking ineffectually with her feet. “My brains will fall out.”

“Close your mouth and you won’t lose them,” he snapped, tightening his grip on her flailing limbs. He strode along the graveled path without difficulty or a hint of labored breathing.

Emma took a deep breath ready to harangue him when she glanced toward the ground. Her gaze lit on his butt. It was tightly encased in black trousers. A spectacular view. She wanted to bite. Really badly. She licked her lips and suddenly being so close to Jack wasn’t an undignified punishment. It was a gift. Her heart pounded as he stalked through the automatic doors at the entrance to their accommodation block. Between her legs moistened with her carnal thoughts, truly wicked ones that circled her mind like a bird of prey hunting for an evening meal.

“Quit that,” Jack barked as he paused to pluck the keycard from his pocket. He shouldered open the door and negotiated the entrance without hurting her. Then, he let her slide back over his shoulder until her feet hit the ground. The brush of her unbound breasts against his shoulder and hard chest made her gasp. The intimate touch of his hand on her arse as he helped her stand made her gulp.

“Quit what,” she whispered.

“Those little sighs.” He retreated as if she’d scalded him. His dark gaze held wariness as they moved over her face then flickered down her length.

She barely suppressed her shiver of desire.

Jack could smell her arousal, and it woke his dragon, the part he was desperately trying to keep in lockdown. The beast roared his need for sex. Hot, sweaty, uninhibited sex. Then, she ambled toward him, her hips swaying with a pert wiggle that made his throat tighten along with every appendage on his body. When he felt the wall at his back, he realized he’d been in a steady retreat. Now, the only way to avoid Emma was to move her out of the way, which would involve physical contact.

She touched him first, and he couldn’t restrain his flinch. Her finger pads were hot, the heat searing through his thin shirt and into his skin beneath.

“You enjoy my sighs.” Her voice was low. Breathy. And she made him think of sex even more. His cock was painfully tight, nudging against the placket of his trousers.

“No.” Damn, the one night had been bad enough. Another… His conscience groaned and spoke sternly.
Don’t. Do. It.

“You’re trembling.”

Him? He didn’t…shit! He was shaking like a tree in a storm. “Shouldn’t you get ready for the pirate dinner?”
Feeble, Jack.
Real feeble. Exert yourself, man. Act like her boss instead of a victim
. She moistened her lips until they gleamed in the moonlight, sidetracking him.

“I don’t feel like going to the dinner. I’m tired.” He caught her glance at the bed with a sense of alarm. With that come-hither expression, no way did she have intentions of resting or sleep.

Chapter Five

The woman was undressing him with her eyes. Jack felt the situation escalating from his control and with his taniwha’s roars resounding in his mind, his grip was tenuous at best. Then, she raised a hand and traced the V of flesh visible at his neck.

One tiny touch, and he lost all restraint. He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her against his chest. Fuck, her soft curves pillowed him, fitting as precisely as his prized army boots. So good. She leaned her weight against him, brushing her belly against his cock. His cursed trousers had grown so tight Jack wondered if he’d lose circulation to his groin.

The horrible thought faded once their lips collided, greedy and ravenous for a taste of each other. He explored her mouth, the contrasting hardness of her teeth and the softness inside her cheek. She tasted of limes and salt. Emma. It was damn addictive. When they finally parted, they were both breathing hard.

A soft smile played on her lips. “Did you want to go to the dinner?”

“No.” But he didn’t want this either. Another night of horizontal dancing with Emma smacked of heading down Commitment Road. Just a hop, skip and a dance away from Wedding Row.

His hands tightened around her shoulders. Nope, not a good idea. He’d push her away. Push her away—

Liar.

Jack wanted sex with Emma so badly his body still trembled. Even the idea of voyeurs didn’t bother him as much as it had at the start.

Her warm hands burrowed under the fabric of his shirt, and just like that, Jack’s willpower toppled and he gave up the fight. “Dammit, woman. You’re killing me here. If you’re going to undo things, start with the trousers. They’re cutting off my circulation.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed. “Can’t have that.” She redirected nimble fingers to his fly and cupped his erection, teasing him some more.

Jack heard her wildly beating pulse and knew she was excited. “I bet your panties are wet. I bet you’re wet for me.”

A soft blush suffused her cheeks. “Why don’t you find out?” she whispered, her lashes drifting downward to hide the sleepy expression in her blue eyes.

With a reluctant grin, he slid his hands beneath the hem of her T-shirt. Blue. It matched her eyes. His fingers skimmed the warm flesh of her belly. She sucked in a rapid breath and her stomach as well. He ignored the feminine vanity. To his mind, she was perfect. He didn’t suffer from a sore neck when he kissed her, and there was no danger of flattening her in a missionary position.

Yeah, she was perfect—more’s the pity.

His fingers traced across her rib cage then a little higher to hold the generous weight of one plump breast. He lifted her T-shirt, exposing her breasts to his gaze.

“Beautiful.” Jack wet his forefinger in his mouth and traced around the areola of one breast. Her pink nipple puckered, drawing tighter before his fascinated gaze. Leaning closer, he blew, his breath warm.

Emma shuddered and made a tiny sound of encouragement at the back of her throat. Jack had never taken the time to explore a feminine body in this detail. Had never been interested in anything but satiating his taniwha’s demands. But now, despite the insistent pain in his groin, he wanted to stroke and pet, to explore the mysteries of Emma. He pressed a kiss in the valley between her breasts and licked along the fine web of blue veins beneath the pale surface. Strawberries. Tonight, she smelled of sweet, juicy strawberries.

“Stop teasing me,” she said in a thick demand.

“I want to make sure I win my bet. I want you wet—dripping with your juices—so I can pound between your legs the minute I remove your panties.”

Another shudder racked Emma. Jack smiled against the curve of her breast and placed tiny kisses, tantalizingly brief on her plump flesh, near her nipple and on the undersides of the weighty globes.

Emma tangled her hands in his hair, gripping tightly as she tried to direct his mouth to her nipple. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, and his amusement deepened.

“Hurry,” she said with a grumpy edge to her voice.

Instead of giving her the relief she wanted, Jack let his hands drop to the dome snap at the waistband of her shorts. He tugged the fastening and it parted with a sharp crack. The zipper slid down, allowing the denim material to sag around her hips. Jack wet his finger again and ran it along the elastic waistband of her panties. He studied the damp trail he’d left and sucked in a deep breath. Fuck. His cock ached, the pressure for release intense and unrelenting. But if he waited, held off, his orgasm would be mind-blowing. A memory to dig out once he returned to solitary life alone in his seaside home with only his scruffy tomcat for company.

Jack knelt in front of her, sliding the shorts down her long legs. He helped her balance so she could step out and kick them away.

The increased scent of her arousal hit him hard—spicy and seductive and with a hint of strawberry. The same fruity aroma that perfumed her skin. He pressed his nose against her lower belly and breathed her in so he would remember. His lips moved, and he scraped his teeth against the sensitive flesh, nipping then soothing.

“I’m hot for you now, Jack,” she said almost defiantly.

“Let’s see, shall we?” But even though his words indicated action, he still dallied, teasing both of them to the point of madness. He palmed her naked buttocks, gripping one cheek in each hand. More than a handful, just the way he liked—a sexy curve to hold on to when he wanted to thrust into her tight pussy. He kneaded the flesh, enjoying the fact she never attempted to hide her generous ass or try to wriggle away from his attentions. Jack liked that about Emma—the acceptance of her size.

He loosened his grip on one butt cheek and ran his fingers in the crevice between. Emma jumped in surprise as he followed the G-string down. Then she rocked her hips, trying to massage her clit to gain relief.

“Not yet, sweet cheeks.” Jack allowed his finger to travel between her legs, just a brief foray. His finger emerged wet. Emma was ready for his possession. Jack tipped back his head to meet her gaze.

“Please,” she murmured, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

He lifted the damp finger to his mouth and maintaining her gaze, licked it clean, savoring the tart taste of her juices. She moaned, her blue eyes dark with arousal.

“Would you like my mouth on you? We haven’t done that yet.”

Her nose wrinkled a fraction before she nodded.

Jack ran his fingers under the elastic band of her G-string and tugged away her panties.

There were changes from this morning. “What have you done?” he murmured, shaking his head. It seemed the spa had a lot to answer for. “What else did you do in that spa?”

Emma glanced at her pelvic region. “I thought my heart looked sexy. And besides, you made the appointment.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “It’s…cute.” Jack stared at the close-clipped heart that shielded her femininity. He drew her panties down her legs and then leaned closer to lick around the edge of the heart. She smelled intoxicating, and he gave in to the temptation to comb his fingers through the heart then made a quick foray along her naked cleft. “You’re not sore?”

“No side effects from the shaving. Not yet anyway. They gave me some cream in case I have itching. Are you going to take all night?”

“Just drawing out the anticipation.” And making himself crazy with lust, but the wait would be worth it. He glanced at his hand and saw the glint of scales starting to form on the top of his hand. The shadow of claws had formed beneath his fingernails, ready to pop into webbed talons. He’d run out of time to play. “Turn around. Put your hands on the wall.”

She hesitated, tugging her bottom lip between dainty white teeth.

“Do it.”

Slowly, she turned to face the beige-colored wall but cast another doubtful glance over her shoulder.

“Hands against the wall.”

Emma sucked in an audible breath, but she placed her hands, one at a time on the painted wall, her heartbeat double-timing and drawing his taniwha even closer to the surface.

Jack ripped at the laces that fastened his shirt at the neck.

“What are you doing?” Emma half turned.

“Look at the wall,” he barked. Jack scrambled for an excuse to keep her from seeing his partial change. Iridescent scales shimmered on his chest—pearl-gray scales the same color as the inside of a mussel shell. Thank God, his chest always changed before his back. If he hurried, the change would recede. “We’re doing a role-play and you’re the submissive. That means you follow orders. For a change.”

Please let her follow his directions.
Jack eyed her still body with misgiving. He yanked at his belt buckle and peeled the trousers over his swollen cock with care. Seconds later, he kicked the trousers out of his way and grabbed a condom. His breathing sounded harsh to his ears, and his hands shook, suddenly clumsy, dexterity compromised by the start of his change to taniwha form. He unrolled the condom awkwardly onto his penis, hoping like hell he didn’t put a hole in the rubber with the sharp claws that extended from his fingers. The last thing he needed were baby taniwhas running around Auckland.

“What does a submissive do?” she whispered, still thankfully staring at the wall.