Dragon Heat 1 - Dead Sexy Dragon (6 page)

circumstances. It seemed almost anticlimactic to sit her

down on the side of his bed. She looked so young and

fragile with her hands clamped between her knees. He

hated himself for what he was about to do. In just a few

moments, he’d shatter everything she’d ever believed to

be true.

“I don’t know why I’ve kept all of these things.” Stig

removed a keychain from his bedside drawer and

unlocked the door to the corner closet. He dragged a large

trunk to the edge of the bed. He handed Cora the keychain.

“The skeleton key opens this trunk.”

She took the keychain and stared at it. “What’s inside

the trunk?”

“My history.” Stig cupped her cheek as he bent down

and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to

lock myself in the basement. Promise me you’ll stay out of

there tonight.”

She gulped and bobbed her chin. “I will.”

“When you’re done, close the lid on the trunk. I’ll put it

back tomorrow.”

“And the key?” She lifted the keychain he’d never let

anyone else but himself touch until now.

“You keep it. I trusted you with my house key. I trust

you with this one, too.” His fingertips trailed along her

jaw. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stig cast one lingering glance at Cora before leaving his

room and rushing downstairs. The sooner he was in chains

tonight the better.

* * *

Cora turned the keychain over in her hand. Everything Stig

had told her at dinner seemed so implausible. He’d

insinuated he’d been alive for quite a long time. And what

was all that business about going through violent phases?

Apparently the answers to those questions rested within

the antique trunk. With great trepidation, she stuck the

skeleton key in the lock. It clicked loudly as the tumblers

spun. She lifted the heavy lid and gazed down at the

contents.

There were yellowing photos and official-looking

papers on the top. Layer by layer, she dug through his

mementos. Cora uncovered military commendations and

medals from Vietnam and World War II. Immigration

paperwork from Ellis Island in 1893 showed him as a

Norwegian male aged thirty-four under the name of

Stigandr Wyvern. There were photos and daguerreotypes

of Stig throughout various eras. He looked so strange in

fashions of the Edwardian and Victorian ages. Farther

down, Cora uncovered painted portraits and pamphlets

from the Regency era.

Cora stopped when she found bits and pieces from the

sixteenth century. The more she dug, the more bewildered

she grew. Her brain screamed that all of this was

impossible. There was no way a person could live for six

or seven centuries and yet the proof was there in black and

white.

Surrounded by Stig’s history, Cora tried to reconcile all

this evidence with the reality she’d lived in her entire life.

It wasn’t possible for a human being to live for hundreds

of years. Cora had always been a big fan of paranormal

romances and urban fantasy novels. The heroines of those

stories always seemed to deal with the discovery of their

lover’s supernatural existence with such grace. But she

felt like running out to her car and racing away from the

house as fast as the car would go. She’d stepped into some

bizarre reality where suddenly things that were fantastic

and fictional were a possibility.

So what did that make Stig? Vampire? Werewolf?

Some other kind of creature she’d never heard of in her

entire life? And what about the dream last night? Was that

Stig’s doing? Was he the shadowed man?

Cora rubbed her face in both hands. This was all so

complicated. Had Hector known about Stig’s secret?

Would he have told her? She didn’t know. The bond

they’d forged at war had seemed unbreakable. Perhaps

these kinds of secrets fell within the purview of that bond.

What did she do now? Cora took a good look at the

trunk and its contents. Everything had changed between

them. It wasn’t as if they could just pretend none of this

had ever happened. She would never forget what she’d

seen. Where did they go from here?

She sensed the ball was in her court. If she packed up

her things and left right now, Cora felt certain Stig would

understand.

But she didn’t want to leave.

The realization that she really didn’t care
what
Stig was

knocked her for a loop. Whatever his secrets, Cora wanted

to uncover them, bring them into the light. Once everything

was on the table, they could move forward. Whether

they’d move forward as friends or lovers she didn’t know.

Her hopes were pinned on the latter.

Cora carefully returned the antique items to the trunk

and locked it. She gripped the keychain tightly and left his

room.

Out in the hall she wavered uncertainly. It was too early

to sleep but she wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable

watching television in the living room while Stig was

locked up in a holding cell beneath her. But if they were

going to make this work—and she had to believe Stig

wouldn’t have told her about his immortality if he didn’t

want her in his life—she needed to learn to deal with

these “phases,” as he put it.

Her mind settled, Cora traipsed downstairs, got a drink

of water, and found a cushy spot on the couch. She

switched on the television and found an amusing reality

show following a train-wreck celebrity as she navigated

the dating waters. Although Cora tried to relax, it proved

impossible. She kept listening for strange sounds and

imagining all kinds of frightening scenarios.

Since Stig hadn’t fully explained what exactly these

phases did to him, she imagined the very worst. Was this a

Jekyll and Hyde kind of thing or something else entirely?

She honestly didn’t know and that made it all the more

difficult. Was the hell he endured down in that holding cell

the price he paid for immortal life? Was it worth it?

Her mind swam. She couldn’t think straight. A headache

started along the back of her head. She supposed her tight

jaw didn’t help matters any. Maybe television wasn’t such

a good idea tonight.

Cora switched off the flat screen and turned off all the

lights downstairs. She trudged up to the guest room and

changed into pajamas before heading across the hall to the

bathroom for her nightly routine. Back in her room, she

slipped into bed and hugged a pillow. She tried in vain to

shut down her racing thoughts for the better part of an hour

before exhaustion finally set in and dragged her into the

depths of sleep.

Just as the night before, Cora experienced brilliantly

vivid dreams. She swam in water so blue and so warm.

She ran barefoot through the greenest, softest grass. She

fell back onto a plush lavender-scented bed. The silken

sheets were so smooth against her naked skin.

Warm hands grasped her ankles. Lips pressed kisses

along her calves and traveled along the inner curve of her

legs. She shivered as the mouth of her phantom lover

inched closer to her sex. Hands grasped her inner thighs

and shoved them wide. The tip of a pointed tongue probed

her folds. She gasped at the delicious invasion.

Cora tried to reach down and touch her mystery lover’s

head only to be stopped by the sudden appearance of

silken bonds capturing her wrists and pinning them

overhead. Excitement rippled along her spine. This was

new and forbidden. The forced position of her arms thrust

her breasts forward. Her nipples pulled tight and pebbled.

Warmth spread across her skin. Arousal coiled low and

tight in her core. She closed her eyes and concentrated on

the talented tongue flicking over her clitoris. The slow

swirls sent tingling frissons through her belly. Her mystery

lover sucked the swollen bud between his lips. Moaning,

Cora arched her back and pulled against the silken bonds.

He released her clit and slid his tongue between her

folds. It dipped into her opening and teased the sensitive

skin there. One finger and then two followed his tongue.

With the gentlest of thrusts, he worked Cora into a frenzy.

His mouth settled over her clitoris again, that wonderful

tongue giving her quite a lashing. Cora’s fingers curled

into a tight fist as she pumped her hips and surrendered to

the double stimulation of her nocturnal lover.

She hovered on the brink of explosion. Her limbs

trembled. She inhaled in short gasps. The fingers thrusting

in and out of her wet sheath moved faster. The tongue

gliding over her inflamed clitoris did so with a little more

pressure but the pace never wavered. Each stroke of the

slippery tongue was just right.

Oh yes. Right there. Just a little more.

“Unnnhhhh!” Cora cried out as she shattered in climax.

She undulated atop the plush bed, her movements jerky

and restricted by the silk ties. Her phantom lover took her

to the heights of orgasm again with that fabulous tongue

and only let up when she begged for mercy. His tongue

licked gently at her hot pussy as she panted for air and

slowly returned to earth. Her mind fuzzy from the intense

orgasms, Cora tried to touch her lover’s head and

succeeded.

Her head shot off the pillow as she realized her arms

were free. Just as quickly as the bonds had appeared,

they’d vanished—and so had her mystery man.

Annoyed, Cora frowned and touched the still warm

sheets. Any second now she would wake from the

delicious dream.

“Come to me.”

Her heart stuttered at the unexpected man’s voice. It

sounded like Stig but more raspy and oscillating, almost

dreamlike. She clutched at her throat with a nervous hand

and felt her thudding pulse beneath her fingertips. “Stig?”

“Come to me, Cora.”

She considered the request. Stig’s warning raced to the

forefront of her mind. “But you said—”

“I need you.” There was no mistaking the pain and need

in his voice. “Come, Cora. Please.”

And then he was gone.

Cora woke with a start and sucked in a shaky breath.

She ran a hand through her hair and tried to reconcile her

dream with reality. After Stig’s shocking revelations, she

couldn’t immediately discount the possibility this was all

real.

Stig needed her. Deep down inside, Cora knew it to be

true. Ignoring the inner voice shrieking for caution, she

slipped from the bed, left her room, and descended the

stairs. Not bothering to turn on the lights, she wound her

way through the living room and across the kitchen.

Enough moonlight spilled through the windows to guide

her way. She found the flashlight and clenched it tightly.

Cora paused outside the door leading down to the

basement. Her instinct told her to go back upstairs. Stig

had ordered her to stay out of there.

But the dream…

She opened the door and flicked on the flashlight.

Trembling with trepidation, Cora took that first ominous

step. Each progressive one came easier and easier as her

bravery increased. The closer she got to the door, the

more she wanted to see what was on the other side. She

needed to know what Stig really was.

The flashlight beam settled on the keypad. The right

numbers somehow popped into her head. Had her dream

lover—Stig, she felt sure—planted them there during their

rendezvous? Her fingers moved over the keys, punching in

the correct number combination. A satisfying series of

beeps and clicks echoed in the darkness.

Cora’s hand grasped the door handle. Once she opened

this door, it would all be over. She would know

everything. There would be no turning back, no forgetting.

It was now or never.

Cora yanked on the door and prepared to face her

destiny.

Chapter Four

Cora stood just outside the door to Stig’s holding cell,

and he vibrated with awareness. It seemed with each

dream rendezvous their connection grew stronger. He had

actually felt her moving through the house, drawing closer

with each step. It terrified him. The last thing he’d ever

wanted was to form such an attachment to her. Cora

couldn’t possibly understand what was happening to her

through the dreams. Honestly, Stig wasn’t quite sure

himself. In the past, he’d shared dreams with other humans

but the connection had never been this strong or vibrant.

How much control did he now have over Cora? While

Stig wouldn’t dare manipulate the growing bond for his

benefit, his inner beast was a different story. Even though

he fought the dragon’s control, the beast coaxed Cora

through the door. Her scent slammed into him, a mixture of

breezy summer scents and the musk of sex. Apparently his

dream self had done quite a job arousing her. Cora’s cries

of ecstasy still rang in his ears.

Though her bare feet touched the cold wet stone with

such softness there was hardly a whisper of sound, the