Dragon's Complete Desire: The Killington Dragons (Paranormal Romance) (7 page)

****

The last thing on Vivian's list for the day was to stop by Aurora's house and gather some of her belongings to bring back to her, and the sun was already set by the time she and Cade pulled into the long circular drive at the front of the house. It sat uncomfortably dark and quiet, and Vivian immediately felt anxious.

She climbed the front steps cautiously, the fear only increasing in her chest when she noticed that the front door stood open a few inches. Cade pushed ahead of her to enter first and she reached forward to loop her fingers in the hem of his shirt, seeking the comfort and security of his presence.

Cade turned on the light in the entryway and Vivian drew in a terrified breath. Papers, broken pottery, and shattered glass littered the marble floor.

"Sara?" Vivian yelled into the silence of the ransacked house.

When there was no response, she broke away from Cade and ran up the stairs toward Sara's bedroom.

"Vivian, stop!" Cade yelled after her, but Vivian kept running, looking into every room she passed.

The devastation only seemed to worsen as she got further into the house. When she reached Sara's bedroom she saw her sitting in the middle of the bed, her hands bound behind her back and a black blindfold over her eyes.

"Oh my god," Vivian said, rushing to the side of the bed.

She had just grabbed onto the ropes on her wrists when she felt someone grab her roughly around the waist. Vivian screamed and thrashed against the strong grip, trying to push away from whoever held her. Her body slammed into the bed and she rolled over to see a huge man hovering over her. Sara was making sobbing, whimpering sounds and the man suddenly cracked the back of his hand across her cheekbone.

Sara fell backwards onto the bed and Vivian tried to scramble away from the man, but he descended on her, grabbing her by her shoulders and pulling her up toward him.

"Put her down," Cade said from the doorway.

His voice was low and calm, the control making it even more frightening than if he had shouted. The man turned to him and Vivian used the temporary loosening of his grip to push away from him and run across the room to Cade. He led her gently into the doorway and stepped further into the room.

"You're who they sent?" the man scoffed, "We were hoping the creature Aurora ran off with would at least come back to gloat, but instead they sent Aurora's little friend and her boyfriend to deal with the aftermath. This shouldn't been too much of a challenge, do you think?"

Two other men stepped into the bedroom from the adjoining sitting room and Vivian wrapped her hand around the doorframe, the fear making it difficult to breath. She could hear her own breath in her ears and terror was making her shake. Cade, however, seemed completely calm as he took two long steps toward the dresser on the wall and drew a cigarette out of the open pack laying on the top.

Vivian watched Cade turn the cigarette around backwards and put the tip in his mouth. He puffed once and drew the cigarette from his mouth, revealing a glowing end. A shiver of excitement rippled through her despite the fear and she saw the three men visibly stiffened. An instant later furniture skidded out of the way as Cade shifted and his massive form filled the space. One of the men pulled out a long dagger, but before he could even raise it, Cade lifted one claw and slashed it across the man's chest.

The smell of blood filled the room and Vivian turned her head away from the man bleeding on the floor. Footsteps pounded as the other two men ran from the room through the side door. Cade's human form swept Vivian into his arms and rested a kiss to the top of her head.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Vivian nodded and kissed his chest. This was reality now. She was irretrievably part of this, but as long as she held onto Cade, she felt like she could get through it.

An hour later they stepped out of the house and into a night that was suddenly chilly. Fall was coming quickly and the shift in seasons seemed to underscore what was happening around them. Vivian could hear the voices of the trusted members of the operative inside the house, trying to make sense of the situation and decide what to do next. It was clear now that any talks of peace were only for show. The war was here and Vivian was a part of it.

"What do you want to do now?" Cade asked, tucking an arm around her hips and drawing her close to him.

Vivian breathed in the smell of sage and the hint of sweat from his skin. His arm felt safe and powerful around her, and her body responded to her primal need for him.

"Bring me home," she whispered.

Cade's hands were at her shirt pulling it off over her head even before the front door to Vivian's house closed behind them. She kicked off her shoes as she walked backwards across the living room, kissing him hungrily and working the buttons along the front of his shirt open. Her hands slid over the smooth, rounded muscles of his shoulders as she pushed the shirt away and let it fall to the carpet.

As soon as they made it into the bedroom, Cade released her bra and tossed it away, bringing his mouth down to suckle the breasts he had kissed so patiently earlier. Vivian arched against his mouth and at the same time felt in front of her for his belt so she could unfasten it. The button and zipper fell away under her hands and he stepped out of the pants. Cade lowered himself to his knees, easing her pants and panties down over her hips and thighs so that she stood in front of him with nothing separating them.

Vivian cried out as his tongue slipped into her core, tasting her and readying her even more for him. The sound tore from her chest like a release from the tension, the fear, and the uncertainty of the day behind them. As it left her lips, she surrendered herself to Cade, focusing only on that moment and the touch of his body near hers.

She was quickly spiraling out of control when Cade got to his feet and scooped her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist and the heat of her core cradled the swell of his erection through the thin fabric of his trunks. He carried her to the bed and lowered her onto the mattress, pausing only long enough to step out of the trunks before rising over her and pushing into her in one hard thrust.

Vivian wrapped her legs around his waist again as he pounded into her, each thrust accompanied by a deep, guttural sound. Suddenly he withdrew from her and she felt his hand tuck under her hip so that he flipped her over onto her stomach. Sliding one leg up so that her knee bent up toward her shoulder, Cade entered her again. She lifted her head as a moan poured from her lips and felt Cade bite down into her shoulder with enough intensity that a shock of delectable, pleasurable pain rolled through her body, bringing her right to the edge of her climax.

Cade thrust into her harder until he impaled her a final time and roared with a release that made him throb within her, pushing her over the edge into another dizzying orgasm. She lifted her hips slightly as she milked him, wanting to be as close to him as her body would allow. As their tremors slowed, Cade lowered himself down onto her so that his body enveloped hers in warm, comforting weight. He slid his arms up over hers and intertwined their fingers, touching a kiss onto the back of her shoulder before resting his head onto her back.

Vivian could feel his heartbeat on her back and his slowly relaxing hardness still inside her. She let the feeling soothe her and ease her toward sleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough and she would return to Killington with him to face whatever awaited the dragons. For now she was satisfied to rest beneath him, lost in the scent of sage and the thought of the colors in his eyes. Her loyalties had changed and she knew that no matter what her memories held, this was the beginning of forever.

********

If you enjoyed reading this story, I’d be so appreciative if you could please leave a review. Even just a sentence or two would be a great help!

Thanks so much for your support!

xo – Meg

~BONUS COLLECTION~

Cosmic Passions

Cosmic Passions

An Alien Romance Collection

Chosen Alien Bride

My Encounter With A Sweet Alien

Chosen Alien Gene: Joran’s Quest

Captured By Two Aliens

---Red Lily Publishing---

Copyright © 2015 by Red Lily Publishing

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Cosmic Passions

Table of Contents

Chosen Alien Bride

My Encounter With A Sweet Alien

Chosen Alien Gene: Joran’s Quest

Captured By Two Aliens

Chosen Alien Bride

“Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to touch things without permission?” Charlotte chastised the man whose drink had nearly landed in his lap. It would've served him right, too, given that the precariously perched drink nearly toppled from her tray when he tried to squeeze Charlotte's ass as she leaned over to place the drinks on the table. She glared down at the offender, who returned a look of semi-inebriated chagrin.

Ugh, I already feel like I need a shower
, she thought.

She was supposed to be off this evening, but she'd naively accepted the shift for a coworker who claimed she had an important family function.

“Family function, my ass,” Charlotte muttered to herself. By now, she was quite certain that Alison had simply been aware of the guests who would be occupying the sports bar tonight: a bachelor party! If they wanted to spend the evening in a drunken stupor, grabbing at every woman within arms' reach, then Charlotte had no problem with that. But, they really should have moved their party to a more fitting venue—like a strip club or a brothel! But maybe that was the problem; perhaps the groom had blown all his money on the wedding and had none left to enjoy his last night of single-hood with a bang. Charlotte smiled at the pun.

If he'd only budgeted more wisely, the table full of overgrown little boys could be enjoying all the tits and asses they could afford and Charlotte, who had opted for a job where her clothes remained on, could finish out her evening without fingerprints covering every inch of her uniform. It didn't help that the owner's idea of a “uniform” was a skirt that resembled something a school girl would wear, along with a tight, button-up, white blouse.
Yeah, like those weren't designed to provide the bar's patrons with walking fantasies
, she thought dryly.

Charlotte moved on from the table, grateful that the night was nearly over. “Just one more hour and I'm out of here,” she comforted herself. She moved around the room, checking to see if customers needed refills or another order of wings, and then headed back to the kitchen to hand over two more orders for the evening. She could survey the bar from her position just outside the kitchen. It was the part of her job that she loved; watching people come and go, seeing the play of expression on their faces, guessing why they're celebrating or drowning their sorrows in drink. While she was in the crowd, she couldn't see what was going on around her, but from here, it was the ultimate improv—reality TV at its best. It wasn't that she was a nosy person—it wasn't any of her business what was really going on in her customers' conversations—Charlotte was just fascinated with people.

She'd grown up as an only child, with two professional parents who spent a great deal of their time working. When she was young, it wasn't uncommon for Charlotte to wind up eating dinner with the babysitter, and then once she was old enough to care for herself, eating entirely alone. She used to eat in front of the television; not to keep up with her favorite sitcom or drama, but to watch the news. It made her feel better to know that the people on the television were actually out there somewhere. When her parents passed away in a plane crash just after her seventeenth birthday, Charlotte waited for something to be different. They had gone away for an anniversary vacation and on the day they were expected home, they never arrived. It wasn't until Charlotte was dining that evening in front of the television that she saw coverage of the crash on the news.

Day after day, she continued with her usual routine. She didn't miss her mother tucking her in at night—her mom never did that. She didn't miss tossing a ball around with her dad—he didn't have time for that. In the days, weeks and months following her parents' deaths, she made her own food, stayed on top of her own homework and tucked herself in at night—just like she always had.

Charlotte shook her head to dispel the sad reverie, and as her mind cleared, she noticed a new figure sitting in the darkened area of the bar. It wasn't odd to have new customers, and he probably wouldn't have caught her attention if he hadn't been staring back at her with a piercing gaze that she swore he was using to try to see into her soul.

She was accustomed to her fair share of ogling; at five foot, eight inches with a model's figure, attention from men, and even a few women, was an everyday occurrence. Her flaxen hair shimmered even in the poor lighting of the bar, and her big, stormy blue eyes captured almost as much attention as her long, slender legs and full breasts.

Even when she met the stranger's gaze, he didn't turn away, and the combination of a thrill and a chill ran down her spine. She knew she should be wary of the stranger; blatant attention like that was often a warning sign that the creep might be waiting outside after work. But for some inexplicable reason, she wasn't scared. And then, seemingly of their own volition, her legs began to propel her forward, moving her slowly toward the table where the stranger sat, still staring. She didn't know why she couldn't help herself—a tiny warning bell should have been going off in her head by now. But, she just kept moving until she stood directly in front of him.

“Hi there. Is there anything I can get for you this evening?” At least as a waitress, even if the guy turned out to be just another creep, her approach wouldn't strike him as odd or inviting. She was just doing her job.

“I'm fine for now. Thank you, Charlotte,” he replied politely, still staring at her intently. She wondered how he knew her name, and then figured he read it on her name tag. She wasn't accustomed to the patrons here being sober enough to bother with reading a name tag. But, as she looked down at her chest, following her mind's train of thought, she froze—she must have forgotten to put her name tag on before her shift started.

“How do you know my name?” she queried, a hint of panic in the tone of her voice.

“I know a great deal about you, Charlotte. And I'd like to know more,” he responded. The accent in his voice threw her off; she couldn't place it from any country she'd heard of.

“I bet you would,” she muttered aloud, beginning to think her “common creep” theory had been correct.

“No. Not in that way, though you are incredibly beautiful,” he said gently. “I mean, I would like the opportunity to learn about who you are,” he clarified, as if that should put her discomfort at ease.

He sounded 100 percent genuine, which made the situation all the more perplexing. Charlotte didn't know what to make of this stranger. By the way he spoke, how he held himself upright and looked clearly at her, she had a difficult time believing he was drunk.

“Yes, well, maybe I'll see you around here sometime.” She didn't know what else to say, and so a casual, uncommitted response seemed most appropriate. It was either that or, “You're creeping me out and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave,” she thought.

“I do not wish to leave. If you'd just join me for a drink, I am sure you'll come to see I am not here to 'creep' you out,” he explained.

The fact that he seemed to be reading her thoughts was disturbing Charlotte even more, and yet she didn't immediately tell him no. What was wrong with her?

“I'm in the middle of work, I'm afraid,” she told him honestly.

“I'm sure no one will mind if you took a break. I've seen you working all evening, and you haven't stopped even once.”

All of a sudden, “Charlotte!” her boss, Michael, shouted to her from across the room.

“Great. I'm in trouble already and I didn't even take the damn break,” she though exasperatedly.

“Go ahead and take five. We've got the floor covered for now,” Michael continued, and Charlotte's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Michael wasn't the type of boss who was...well,
nice
.

Uncomfortably she nodded her head and sat down at the stranger's table, though she wasn't entirely sure when she was the one who had commanded her legs to lower her to the seat.

Her boss, her body with a mind of its own tonight, and the potentially-telepathic stranger sitting across from her; Charlotte was beginning to wonder if she was dreaming—or living in an episode of the X-Files.

“What's going on?” she queried, certain at the least that something wasn't right here. As she spoke, she looked up at the stranger.

Even sitting she could tell that he would stand nearly a foot taller than her. She looked closer; something wasn’t quite right about his features. The stranger had ridges on his forehead and markings along his hairline down to his neck. She couldn't make them out, but they seemed to shimmer iridescent. He had incredibly defined, chiseled cheekbones, and a hard jawline. His eyes were gently slanted and he had incredibly long lashes for a man. His dark hair was long, too, falling just below his shoulders, and she could just barely see the tops of his ears peeking out, suggesting they angled away from his head—sort of like Will Smith's ears, she thought wryly.

He didn't look like any man she'd ever seen before; every one of his features was exaggerated; some men might have a strong jaw or prominent cheekbones, or eyes that really stood out, but never a combination of all these things. But, he was beautiful—a solitary masterpiece unlike any other.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” she asked, confused. When he didn't respond but looked at her knowingly, “You heard that?!? But, how is that possible?”

“Why would you suppose that such things are not possible?” he queried back to her. But, as intelligent as Charlotte was, she couldn't find a logical argument.

And then he spoke again, an edge of frustration in his voice. “I wish I had time to do this another way—to woo you tenderly, I would like that very much—but I’ve been gone too long. It has taken me so long, and while I know you cannot possibly understand, I have come here for a reason, Charlotte. And it turns out, that reason is
you
. And I’m more glad than you can possibly imagine,” he explained cryptically.

“I don't understand,” Charlotte replied, completely at a loss. She had no idea what to make of the stranger's ramblings. This had to be the weirdest conversation she'd ever had. Weirder still was the fact that she was still sitting there. She really should have taken a hike when the guy started repeating her thoughts.

“And I see that all I'm doing is confusing you right now. I will be back,” he assured her before standing, settling up his bill and strolling out of the sports bar. Charlotte was left to stare after him, wondering if perhaps she'd just imagined the exchange between them. She remained still for a moment after he'd left before sweeping up the money on the table to cover the stranger's bill.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of the confusion from her bizarre conversation with the stranger. It was a difficult task, but her five minutes was up and it was time to get back to work. Fortunately, the rest of the night passed quickly and much less disturbing than she had expected. Strangely, the immature grabbers at the bachelor party table had calmed down immensely since her last trip to their table. She stopped by to refill glasses two more times during the evening and her entire body remained untouched the entire time. “Jeez, I gotta find out what's ended up in their drinks and stash some for the next raucous group of males,” Charlotte thought to herself.

She swept the floors and washed down the tables after the last customer cleared out of the bar and then headed out quickly, never terribly enthusiastic about the long walk home after dark. She looked around for the stranger that had confused her earlier, but he was nowhere to be found. So, she started out down the sidewalk, moving quickly while her low heels kept a staccato beat to spur her onward.