Dragon Heat 1 - Dead Sexy Dragon (2 page)

realigned itself into a curved shape. With a rending of skin

and a scream from his throat, pterodactyl-like wings

sprouted from his back, the black reptilian membrane wet

and stretched thin between the joints.

And just like that, his inner dragon was free. The primal

urges of his beast suppressed Stig’s humanity. For now, he

could only think with the primitive parts of his brain. Hunt.

Food. Sex. Sleep. Those were his strongest desires.

He jerked at his bonds, desperate for freedom and

yearning for a taste of the young woman whose tantalizing

smell still teased him despite the depths he’d descended.

His mouth watered and his erection twitched at the vision

of parting her thighs and lapping at her honeyed sex. He

could just imagine the sensation of tight, wet heat that

would envelope his cock if he thrust deep inside her.

Burning up with lust, Stig shuddered and pressed back

against the cool stone. He didn’t dare look at the blinking

hours and seconds on the locks. Thankful for the strength

of his chains, he closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully

to subjugate his dragon’s needs.

This was going to be one very long night indeed.

* * *

Cora dragged the last of her suitcases into the guest

bedroom. It was small and sparsely furnished. She’d

expected nothing less from Stig. He wasn’t the warm and

cozy type. Actually, Cora was pleasantly surprised not to

find a military-style rack complete with itchy wool blanket

and paper-thin sheets. The full-sized bed offered a comfy

pillow-top mattress and nice fluffy white comforter. Pale

blue walls added a soothing effect she desperately needed.

Her tummy clenched at the thought of having to tell Stig

about the mess she’d created. Heat flooded her cheeks.

She could imagine the disapproving expression he’d wear.

She’d often seen a similar look on Hector’s face. Neither

man had been programmed to take risks or take the plunge

into the unknown in pursuit of a dream. Cora, on the other

hand, thrived on uncertainty. She liked taking chances.

Sometimes they turned out fine and sometimes…well…

they didn’t.

Hunger pangs twisted her belly. When had she last

eaten? Oh right. That gross drive-through burger joint

about five hours ago.

Cora left her room and carefully tiptoed past the door

she assumed led to Stig’s room. The last thing she wanted

to do was disturb him. For a second there, she’d thought

he was really going to refuse her entrance to his house.

Her gut told her there was something more than a headache

causing his weird behavior.

Her first instinct? That he had a lover in the house. The

very thought of another woman, naked and sated in Stig’s

bed, had soured her stomach. From the first time she’d

spied Stig Wyvern six years earlier, she’d been smitten

with her older brother’s friend. A college freshman, she’d

been smart enough to realize a war-hardened marine like

Stig wouldn’t be interested in her. It hadn’t been easy to

ignore her raging crush but she’d done it. The last thing

she’d wanted to do was embarrass herself or him or

Hector. Even though she’d managed to suppress her strong

feelings toward Stig, there was no denying the spark of

jealousy that had burned her at the thought of him with

another woman in his secluded cabin. Realizing her first

instinct was wrong had been quite a relief.

So what the hell was his problem? Clearly he wasn’t

comfortable with her in the house. Hopefully it really was

a headache and not something else. If Stig put her out,

she’d be on the streets by the end of the week. The cash in

her wallet was running low and there was no one else she

trusted to keep her safe.

Down in the kitchen, Cora took a few moments to

investigate the cabinets and fridge contents. The pantry

shelves were well stocked and her mind raced with

possibilities for the morning. Her grandmother had always

preached the way to a man’s heart was through his

stomach. If there was one thing Stig had always loved, it

was Cora’s baking and cooking skills. Considering she

desperately needed his help, she’d bake, sauté, fricassee,

braise, and roast every recipe in her mental cookbook.

But for tonight a sandwich would suffice. Cora made

quick work of assembling her dinner, grabbed a chilled

can of fizzy soda from the fridge, and sat at the sturdy

wooden table. Her fingertips brushed over the smooth

grained tabletop. She marveled at the exquisite

craftsmanship.

Stig’s skill as a woodworker was well known. When

he’d retired from the Marine Corps, he’d turned his hobby

into a thriving business. Cora had seen the adjacent

workshop as she’d pulled into the gravel driveway. From

what she understood, almost all of his business came from

online orders. It seemed client interaction was low on his

list of priorities.

Apparently Stig was quite content with his loner status.

That was something she’d never understood about him.

He’d enjoyed spending a day or two with them in San

Antonio whenever Hector invited him down but he always

seemed so restless and uneasy, as if he couldn’t wait to

escape. He thrived on the solitude of his woodsy fortress.

The city seemed to sap him of his vitality.

Cora mused on his oddness as she cleaned up her dishes

and swept away the crumbs on the counter and table.

There was something about Stig that wasn’t quite right.

She used to think it was the effect of all those tours in Iraq

and Afghanistan, maybe some post-traumatic stress

disorder, but the more she was around him, the less she

thought that was the answer.

Clearly he had some lingering issues from his time at

war. Hector had been the same way. The nightmares of

those days in the violence-fueled desert had driven her

brother toward the alcohol and drugs that had eventually

led to his demise. Stig, on the other hand, seemed able to

master the horrors of war in a way Hector simply never

could.

Cora often thought she glimpsed the tiniest bit of guilt

reflected in Stig’s eyes whenever they spoke of her

brother. No matter how many times she assured Stig he

hadn’t failed Hector, she could tell he didn’t believe it.

Stig had taken Hector’s car accident incredibly hard. As

far as Cora could tell, Hector had been Stig’s only real

friend, so the loss must have been as unbearable for him as

it had been for her.

But they had each other to lean on for support.

There had been a time in those initial weeks following

Hector’s death when Cora had thought maybe, just maybe,

Stig felt more for her than friendship, that they weren’t

only united in grief but in other, more intimate ways. She’d

quickly realized her hopes in that area would never come

to fruition. Perhaps it was the age difference or the sibling

connection but Stig never gave her any indication that he

was interested in anything beyond friendship.

And it killed her.

There was no denying her intense attraction to him. Who

wouldn’t have the hots for such a deliciously sexy former

marine? With that square jaw and that heart-melting grin,

Stig set her on fire every time he was near. The thought of

being embraced by those thick, muscular arms or having

those broad shoulders rippling as he thrust into her

welcoming body was almost too much. Her knees

weakened at the mere thought of Stig kissing her neck or

nibbling her lower lip.

As much as it embarrassed her, Cora still nurtured a

secret hope Stig would one day see her not just as his best

friend’s sister but as the sexually confident young woman

she’d become. Maybe this would be the visit that changed

things between them? She’d never been around Stig on his

home turf. Whether or not that improved her odds of

success, she couldn’t say, but it was worth a try.

Cora flicked off the light and started to leave the

kitchen. The strangest noise, a mix between a growl and a

moan, stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned back to

the kitchen and fixed her gaze on the basement door. The

sound had most definitely come from beneath the house.

What kind of animal made a noise like that? Not a

raccoon or skunk, owl or bat. Were there coyotes and

wolves in the woods? Yes, probably, but how would they

get into the basement? Maybe there was outside access to

the cellar? A door or vent of some kind?

Her chest constricted with nervousness. She slowly

crossed the kitchen and pressed her ear to the door. There

was nothing to be heard but her shaky breaths. Whatever

she’d heard was quiet now.

A moment later another lonesome howl penetrated the

door. Cora’s breath caught in her throat. The fine hairs

along her nape stood on edge. So close to the basement

entrance, she heard the sound more clearly, a mix of an

elephant’s trumpet and a lion’s roar. No, that definitely

didn’t belong to any animal she’d ever heard of. What the

hell was that?

Cora backed away and left the kitchen in a hurry.

Despite the growing distance from the possible threat, she

couldn’t shake the eerie sensation. When Stig woke in the

morning, she’d ask him to go down there and check it out.

Maybe whatever had gotten in there was hurt and needed

help.

Or maybe it wanted to break free and eat her face.

Shuddering at that frightening thought, Cora rushed into

her room, located her toiletry bag, and skittered across the

hall into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her

teeth. Back in her room, she locked the door, slipped into

her pajamas, switched off the lights, and slid under the

covers.

Wrapped in the warmth of the comforter, Cora felt her

fear melt and exhaustion take hold. The last four days had

been incredibly long. Sleep, she needed lots of sleep.

Cloaked in the welcoming arms of Morpheus, Cora

experienced the most vivid dreams of her life. She was

asleep and yet so incredibly aware. Her synapses fired

rapidly and amplified every sensation. Touch, smell, taste

—they were so very strong.

In her dreams, Cora became aware of a male presence.

His scent, a potent mixture of cedar and earth and sweat,

teased her nose. Like an aphrodisiac, the smell provoked

an aroused state. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks

pressing against the simple cotton of her camisole. Her sex

pulsed as desire blossomed in her belly and spread its

warm tendrils of electric current through her lower half.

There was no stopping the downward movement of her

hands. They outlined her curves, taking time to tweak her

nipples beneath the thin fabric before sliding even lower.

Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic waistband of her

pajama bottoms and panties and slowly drew them free.

Undressed from the waist down, Cora sat up against her

pillows and opened her thighs. Cool air met the blazing

hot skin of her most intimate region. Wet and slick, the

tender folds of her pussy yielded to the gentle parting of

her fingers. Her throbbing clit begged for attention. With

the tip of her forefinger, Cora stimulated the swollen nub

in lazy circles.

Big and burly, the man loomed naked in the doorway

and bathed in shadows. The sight should have terrified

Cora but she found it oddly thrilling. There was something

so sexy about a little exhibitionism. Moonlight spilled

through the window and splashed across his lower half.

His magnificent cock, so thick and erect, betrayed his

obvious interest. Although she couldn’t see his eyes

through the darkness, she could feel his heated gaze locked

on her. It swept along her body, leaving a prickly

sensation of awareness.

Cora watched in fascination as the naked man fisted his

meaty hand over his stiff length. Wanting to give him quite

a naughty show, she licked her upper lip and moaned

loudly. She arched into the tantalizing touch of her circling

finger. The fingers of her other hand found their way

between her lips and into her mouth. She ran her tongue

over the skin, slicking it with her saliva, and then slipped

them inside her tight, hot channel.

A gasp sounded from the doorway. So he liked that, did

he?

She moaned and swiveled her hips. Her finger thrusts

felt so good, the slick cream of her cunt coating her digits.

Little sparks of pleasure flickered through her lower belly.

Cora’s toes curled against the sheets. Her wrist moved

faster as she strummed her clit with more fervor. Mouth

agape, Cora pursued her climax.

Still standing in the doorway, her mystery dream lover

breathed hard and loud. His forearm rippled as he stroked

his cock. Their competing pants echoed in the stillness of

the room. Cora wasn’t sure who would come first. It was

almost a race to the precipice of ecstasy.

In the end, she cried out a few seconds before the