BETHANY scurried around her small apartment, picking up and discarding dresses and overthinking every single word that Math Draco had ever said.
For the evening.
He’d clear his calendar for the evening.
Not that he’d clear his calendar for the night.
Just the evening.
So, maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it.
But he said he’d clear it for the evening.
But those cracks about his lair and his penthouse suite must have meant something.
His words went around and around in Bethany’s head as she walked around her apartment, getting ready for their date that might not be a date, and she rehashed every second of every conversation she’d ever had with him until it was mincemeat, looking for clues.
There weren’t enough clues.
He was her boss, and he’d been very careful not to leave clues.
Other than running his lips over her inner thigh.
Because she’d had a sea-monster-jellyfish sting.
And kissing her after the algae had tried to kill her with poison gas.
Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
And she’d sucked his thumb first.
Maybe it had been a pity kiss.
After all, he’d stopped her from going further.
It had all the hallmarks of a pity kiss.
See? It could all be explained away.
Her doorbell rang.
Oh, gods of magic, who could this be? She was supposed to meet Math at the restaurant in two hours.
Lords above, she hoped it wasn’t Willow and Ember wanting a girls’ night because then she’d have to admit she had a date.
But she didn’t have a date.
Not unless Math thought it was a date.
But what was she, chopped liver of newt? What she thought mattered just as much as what he thought, and she thought tonight was a date.
She hoped it was a date.
Bethany should have looked out the peephole.
Later, she thought about that.
She wasn’t expecting anybody to show up on her doorstep, certainly not Math, because they were supposed to meet at the restaurant an hour and a half later. There was no way that he would show up at her messy apartment while she was still fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but a towel tucked under her armpits. She shouldn’t have opened the door like that at all.
But just then, her mind was whirling—analyzing every word that Math had ever uttered, all the choices of dresses or slacks in her closet to wear on the date that night, what type of makeup she should put on like demure natural pinks and peaches or smoky eyes and scarlet lips, whether she should put on perfume or whether he might be allergic to it, and the fact that she really should pick up her small apartment in case she was hit by a car and killed while she was on the date with Math because Bethany wouldn’t want her mother to see her clothes strewn over the furniture or the paperbacks straddling every arm on every chair but she wasn’t going to conjure some apparitions to do it because her spell might summon another glitterbomb—so she just grabbed the doorknob and flung her front door open.
Math stood outside.
He wore dark, slim pants that clung to his long legs and muscled thighs and a white shirt, open at his throat.
At least two dozen red roses filled his arms, wrapped in paper.
He looked at her from over the top of the flowers, his golden eyes wary. “I couldn’t wait.”
Bethany stepped back, grabbing the towel wrapped around her naked body just in case it loosened because she was breathing too fast. “I’m not ready yet.”
He glanced down at her skinny legs sticking out of the dingy towel, and then looked right back at her eyes. “I don’t mind. I’ll wait in the car or something. I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”
“Don’t you have spreadsheets to look at?”
“I don’t care,” he said.
“Don’t you have thieves to stop from stealing your hoard?”
“I don’t care.”
“Doesn’t the very important Chief Financial Officer have important places to go and people to see?”
“I couldn’t wait until tonight. I just wanted to see you.”
“Well, you’d better come in, then.”
Math walked inside her apartment, his eyes locked on hers. At first, Bethany was impressed that he hadn’t ogled her in the towel even once, but his eyes staring into hers were becoming more predatory by the minute.
Math held the enormous bouquet of red roses out to her. “I thought you might like these. You’re not allergic, right?”
“I love roses. You’re not allergic to perfume, are you?”
“I love perfume. On girls, I mean. But it’s not like I’m running around sniffing women, looking for perfume. But I’d like perfume on you. I mean, no, I’m not allergic to it.”
Bethany took the bouquet from his arms and asked him, “Are we both really nervous?”
Math laughed. He laughed so hard that he leaned over and braced his hands on his knees. “I knew coming over here so early was a bad idea, but just like every bad idea, it sounded like a great idea at the time. I knew it would be crazy to show up at your apartment when we were supposed to meet at the restaurant. I knew it would be worse to get here two hours before we were supposed to meet at the restaurant. But I couldn’t help myself. It’s like I watched myself walk to my rental car, get in, buy the flowers, and drive over here, howling at myself all the way that this was a terrible idea and you were going to think that I was stalking you. Do you think I’m stalking you?”
Bethany carried the roses into the kitchen area, over to one side of her tiny apartment. “No, but the night’s not over yet.”
“That’s encouraging. At least I haven’t scared you off yet.”
Bethany felt like she should pursue this, at least a little. “Do you have a problem with scaring off girls?”
“I’ve never done anything like coming over to a girl’s place two hours before a date before. I mean, I show up for dates. I wouldn’t stand someone up or ghost on them. I’m not a jerk. But I don’t do stuff like this.”
She hunted in the cabinets for a minute, just in case her kitchen had grown a huge vase, and then snapped her fingers to summon one out of the ether, already half-full of water. She stuffed the rose stems into the vase. There were so many of them, they barely fit. “Okay, if it gets weird, I’ll tell you.”
He walked around behind her, probably perusing her small and messy apartment. “Deal.”
Bethany was a little steamy from the hot shower and a little warm from seeing Math in clingy, casual clothes instead of a more concealing suit. “You know what is weird? Me, standing here in a towel. I think I’ll get dressed and put on some makeup. I’ll get ready as soon as I can.”
When she turned, she expected to find that Math had walked past her and was heading for her living room.
She had kind of hoped that he would be standing right behind her, so that when she turned, he would take her into his arms. Her towel might fall off. Things like that could happen.
Instead, Math was leaning against the other kitchen counter, just a little farther away than she had hoped. His glittering eyes held fire. He was so tall that the backs of his thighs rested against the kitchen countertop. His fingers were clenched around the counter as if it were the edge of a cliff, and he might fall.
The intensity on his face didn’t make him look angry at all, but he looked hungry. “Don’t get dressed on my account.”
Bethany had a great idea. She suspected that it was actually a very bad idea because it seemed like such a great idea, but she didn’t care.
She stepped forward, her feet on either side of Math’s crossed ankles, but not touching him. She leaned forward, allowing her breasts just a little closer to his chest while he took deep breaths through his nose, and asked, “Why? Do you have a better idea?”
He moved so quickly that his arms seemed to flash around her, and she was spinning.
In a blink, the countertop pressed into her back.
His fingers were already at the back of her neck and reaching up into her hair, dragging her head back. He grabbed her hip with his other hand, bunching the terrycloth in his fist. He hovered with his lips just a fraction of an inch from hers, almost brushing, entirely tantalizing. “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” she whispered, trying to move forward and close that tiny space between their mouths, but he held her back with her hair, pulling.
The gold glitter in his eyes nearly glowed. “Do you want me?”
She could barely breathe, but she said, “Yes.”
He ducked his head and traced her jawline with the tip of his nose, sending delicious shivers down her neck and over her shoulder. “You already put on perfume.”
She hadn’t. “Not yet.”
“You smell amazing.”
“Must be my shampoo.”
He moved her head, stretching her neck, and brushed his lips over the top of her shoulder. “I don’t think so.”
Bethany ran her hands up his shirt, feeling the many hard lumps and crevices of his abdominals and chest that she had seen yesterday through the crisp fabric. A warm scent like cinnamon and citrus lingered on his skin, though she could still smell his natural musk and smokiness. The delectable scent seemed to light a fire in her. “You’re wearing cologne.”
Math growled, “You can tell me to stop, and I will. You can tell me if you don’t like something. You can tell me if you want something. I’ll try to be careful, but dragons are strong. It’s in our nature to be a little ruthless, a little rough. But if you don’t tell me, I won’t know, and I might go too far. Once my dragon wakes up, things can get very rough, very fast. If I hurt you, if you don’t like it, tell me, and I’ll hold back.”
Maybe she hadn’t thought this entirely through. “Do you usually hurt women?”
“No, but my dragon could. I always have to hold back. I try to be gentle. But you have to tell me if my dragon gets too rough.”
A very bad image filled Bethany’s head. “You are not going to turn into that enormous dragon anytime soon, are you? If we—”
Jeez, if that dragon’s dick was proportional, she might actually explode.
His chuckle vibrated against her skin. “No, but the dragon soul merges with mine when things get intense.”
Another scary thought occurred to her. “What if your dragon doesn’t like me?”
“He likes you. He likes you a lot.” His lips caressed the side of her neck and her jaw when he spoke. “The dragon soul slumbers inside a shifter most of the time. Sometimes, it sleeps for days on end. Most of the time, my dragon only awakens when I shift or if I’m angry, but he wakes up every time you walk into the room. Every time I see you, my dragon wants to get closer to you.” His hand slid from her hip to her waist, caressing her. “He wants to touch you, feel your skin, breathe your scent. My dragon soul is absolutely fascinated with you. He’s never laid his head down and allowed a human, natural or supernatural, to touch him before, and he liked it. He wants you to touch him again.”
Her head spun. Warmth from his body washed over her skin. “What else does your dragon want to do?”
“Kiss you,” he whispered against her lips.
Bethany touched his neck, sliding her hands upward. The dark, silky strands of his hair slipped through her fingers as his mouth covered hers. When she opened her lips, his tongue stroked hers.
A sound hummed in Math’s body, and he released her hair and waist to lift her up to the countertop. Once she was sitting up there, she was closer to his height, her lips about the level of his collarbone instead of the middle of his sternum. She pressed her mouth to his chest and neck, sucking on his skin, as he shoved her knees apart and pressed his body against her, wrapping one arm around her waist and burying his fingers in her hair again.
Sitting on the kitchen counter with her thighs straddling Math’s hips like that, he could unzip and thrust into her.
Bethany scooted her butt forward on the counter just in case he did.
His arm tightened around her waist, and his hand moved down to her butt, pressing, as he mouthed her shoulder.
She whispered, “What else does your dragon want?”
“You,” he whispered, his voice rougher. “He wants you. All of you. In my arms and gasping my name. I’ve been starving for you and couldn’t touch you.”
He nipped her neck, scraping her skin with his teeth.
It hurt, too rough, and she gasped to tell him to stop.
His kiss soothed her skin just like when he’d kissed away the sea monster’s jellyfish sting. The quick contrast between the bite and the rush of pleasure afterward spun her around harder.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging in, and she let her head drop back.
Math moved, his body rubbing against her.
Her towel snagged on his clothes and loosened. She could have grabbed it, but she let it fall onto the countertop behind her.
He backed up for a second, taking a long, scorching look at her body, and he bit his lower lip with the slightest of grins before grabbing her again.
His hands roamed her body, stroking and caressing her until she was pulling at his clothes. He kissed her until her lips felt swollen and she was panting into his mouth. When he pulled off his shirt and flung it on her kitchen tile, she leaned back to take a look at the ripples and crevices of his lean abdominals and pecs, and then she explored the velvet of his skin and the long, vibrant dragon tattoo on his ribs on his right side. She couldn’t feel ridges from the tattoo in his skin, but the tattooed area felt warmer under her fingers than his cool skin surrounding it.
He grabbed her again, kissing her and stroking her skin and breasts. He was rough, a little, but not too rough.
Just rough enough to make her crave more.
As Math sucked his way down Bethany’s neck, she leaned back, balancing on the edge of the counter.
Warmer air trickled up her neck, like a tendril of warmth from a heating vent.
When Math glanced up at her from where he was tonguing her breast, the sparks in his eyes had turned to rushing fire.
The sight bumped her out for a minute, and she flinched away from him.
His mouth on her gentled. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. You’re fine. You’re great. Are you sure you’re not going to transform?”
“Positive. It’s never happened. I have complete control over my dragon soul, in that way.”
“When do you not have control over him?”
“You sound scared.”
“I’ve never been with a dragon shifter. I’ve never even met a dragon shifter before.”
Math’s deep voice slipped over her skin. “You don’t have to be afraid of my dragon. He won’t hurt anyone, especially you.”
He pressed her farther back on the kitchen counter and lifted her knees over his shoulders, the warm wetness of his tongue slipping over her belly and between her folds.
Bethany let her head fall back, and she let herself feel what he was doing to her. Nothing about him scared her anymore, not as long as he kept doing that. Firm, wet strokes worked her body, deeper, then inside her.
The deep, strong orgasm fanned through her body, long waves of ecstasy that drove all thoughts and fear and worry from her mind.
When the bliss ebbed, Math was standing between her thighs again, his arms wrapped around her. She was clinging to him, still gasping.
“Ready?” he asked.
Somehow, impossibly, Bethany was hungry for more of him. She nodded, still shuddering from aftershocks, but her body wanted to take him inside her.
He held a packet in two fingers. “Dragons are immune to most human diseases. We can’t carry any STDs. I can’t get a woman pregnant unless we’re mated. Do you want this?”
He was talking too much. His low voice made no sense in her ears, and she craved his touch and his skin. She fumbled with his belt and fly, her fingers almost numb and definitely not the part of her that needed to be filled. “No condom. Please. Now. Please.”
Math shoved his trousers around his hips and held himself, bracing his other hand on her hip.
Damn.
Math was around six-six, and unsurprisingly, he had an enormous—dragon.
He fit himself inside her, pressing slowly, while Bethany clung to him and pressed her cheek against his cool shoulder.
Under her arm, she could feel his heart beating behind his ribs.
His small growls feathered her ear and washed down her back.
Finally, after the ache of stretching and fullness, his hips nestled into her body, and he held her in his arms.
She wanted him to move. She needed him to move in her. “Math,” she whispered. “Please. Please.”
He pulsed his hips into her at first, slowly, rhythmically, letting her get used to him moving, too. Every press of his body drove a whimper from her throat, first from the fullness, then from the desire for more, harder.
His body moved sinuously, athletically, between her legs and against her stomach.
She scooted to the edge of the counter. Math wrapped his arms around her more tightly, one arm lifting under her as he pressed more deeply inside her body.
Bethany vined around him, her limbs squeezing his hard flesh as he surged inside her. Her desire for more, always more, matched his urgent thrusts, and her body spiraled as he bucked against her, both driving each other toward release.
Math grabbed her ass, picked her up with his powerful arms locked around her, and slammed her against the wall.
Bethany’s skull bounced off the plaster, and she clutched him as she fell onto him and he drove up into her, grinding her against the wall, both of them sweating and heated and moving hard together.
When he leaned back, Bethany peeked at him through her eyelashes. A line had formed between his eyes, and he was breathing through parted lips.
With every breath, fire leaked from Math’s mouth and then withdrew between his lips.
At last, the crushing tension contracted to a hard knot and blasted apart, taking her mind and consciousness with it. Her scream scrubbed her throat raw.
Math thrust into her, his body beyond control as he held her in his arms and plunged into her. Bethany’s back scraped the wall, and the throbs of his release slammed through her again.
Math shuddered in her arms, his breath hot on her shoulder.
He held her until their bodies slipped apart, and then he lay down on the living room carpet with her lying on his chest.
He was still breathing hard, and the fire slowly left his golden eyes as he stared at the ceiling.
Bethany lay limply on his chest, panting. His heart raced under her ear.
After a moment, his arms wrapped around her again, and his abdominals turned to hard ridges as he curled up to kiss the top of her head. “That was amazing,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re amazing.”
“Yeah,” she said, still stunned by the intensity of it. “Amazing.”
Every damn word they whispered about dragon shifters was absolutely true.
Bethany worried she might never be able to think straight again.
Or walk normally.