After I’d followed the tiny blonde inside, I couldn’t help but keep an eye on her.
I assumed she was meeting friends, but once inside she hadn’t sought anyone out. She’d also actively avoided every single man who’d eyed her up, down, and around. That ass could not be ignored.
She appeared to be both on her own and oblivious to all the attention she was getting.
Watching her was entertaining as hell. She was a curious mix of sexy and graceless, adorable and clueless. The combination was oddly appealing. Actually, it wasn’t odd at all. She was fuck-hot, my earlier conclusion even more blatantly obvious indoors with more light.
She made me smile—on the inside, at least—and I’ve been told I don’t smile nearly enough.
Archer and Dex’s words were more like: “You’re a grumpy son of a bitch these days. Lighten up.”
This was me, lightening up.
Less entertaining was watching some rodent shifter fondle her ass as she tried to get the bartender’s attention.
I had a relatively polite word with him, one that only involved the threat of castration, not decapitation. And when that failed to fully impress upon him the seriousness of the situation, I had another word, the gist of which had been: “Mine.”
She wasn’t.
She never would be, not in the way I’d implied to the rodent. I’d already fallen for a woman I’d mistakenly believed to be my mate. Losing her had brought me to my knees—and she hadn’t even been my one true mate. Having the hope of a mate and losing it had been an even greater wound than losing the woman. The entire experience had left a foul aftertaste.
But my claim had the desired effect without requiring the unleashing of fire or the shedding of blood, a necessary accommodation required by the time and place in which we lived.
He’d apologized profusely and promised never to visit Derek’s again.
But not before Taylor had a chance to threaten his twig and berries.
It had taken an effort not to laugh out loud. My humor wouldn’t have been appreciated given the circumstances.
I found little enough to laugh about these days, making the gift she’d given me all the more valuable.
Especially considering the rage that had pumped through my veins only seconds previous. The man had laid hands on her. He should have had his twig and berries damaged.
But then the rodent had fled, and I’d been left to contemplate…her peach.
I couldn’t decide if it was an erotic reference or—
No. No, I couldn’t imagine it was. Because that wasn’t her.
She was adorable, and so was her fucking peach. Both her luscious ass and the word she used to describe it.
Up to that point, it had all been relatively innocuous.
Yes, I’d imagined her small hand wrapped around my cock, pretty red nails and all, when she introduced herself with a handshake.
And as she spoke, I imagined slowly, gently fucking her mouth, the wet pink of her lips stretched around my girth.
But still, relatively innocuous.
Just images that slipped into my head, nothing more.
Then she’d offered to buy me a drink.
No one bought me drinks.
It wasn’t done.
Something about the way I presented to humans prevented them offering. Men, women, it didn’t matter. I suspected it had to do with my nature. Having six tons of slumbering dragon bottled inside a guy can have that effect.
Whatever the reason, no one offered to buy me drinks.
No one petted me affectionately.
Granted, that particular touch had become sexual within about a half a second, but still, the initial impulse had been affection.
Dragons were not darlings to be petted.
We were fiery beasts to be feared.
The way she treated me was really fucking nice.
But then she’d groped my pecs and thumbed my nipple—definitely sexual.
And then—I smiled—then, sweet, adorable Taylor had checked out my dick.
Even knowing she was a good girl, that she wasn’t for me because I was only looking for a quick fuck, even then, no one could blame me for what happened next.