Dragon Heat 2 - Red Hot Dragon (15 page)

causing his weird behavior.

Her first instinct? He’d 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 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 ran 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 pulled onto 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 posttraumatic 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

united only 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 Stig.

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

ex-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 watching those broad shoulders ripple 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

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 a skunk, an owl or a 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,

Cora 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’s fear

melted and exhaustion took 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 and

pressed 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 waistbands 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

shadow man. Her pussy contracted and clenched around

her fingers as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. He

grunted as if in pain and spilled his cum in ropy bursts.

Separated from her partner in exhibition, Cora was

suddenly gripped by the desire to touch his sweat-slicked

skin, to taste the salty cream now dripping from the blunt

head of his cock. She wanted to be held close and

caressed like some soft creature. She wanted to feel his

soothing breaths against her forehead and hear the

reassuring beat of her heart as she slept against his chest.

But none of those desires were to materialize.

As quickly as her dream lover had appeared, he

vanished. In the next instant, Cora woke and shot up off

her pillow. Trembling and sweating, she sucked in a sharp

breath. She wiped a shaky hand down her face. Her thighs

clenched with the last tremors of her fading orgasm.

Cora’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She’d just

had a wet dream in the room next to Stig’s. As a former

Marine, he was bound to be keenly aware of his

surroundings. Had she cried out in her sleep? Oh God.

Had he heard her?

Groaning in humiliation, Cora flopped back against her

pillow and buried her face in the crook of her arm. How

the hell was she going to face him at the breakfast table in

the morning?

You Might Also Like…