ROMANCE: SHAPESHIFTER ROMANCE: Dragon Baller's Bride (Dragon Shifter Alpha Male Romance) (Paranormal Romantic Suspense) (79 page)

BOOK: ROMANCE: SHAPESHIFTER ROMANCE: Dragon Baller's Bride (Dragon Shifter Alpha Male Romance) (Paranormal Romantic Suspense)
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Chapter Two

A
half hour later
, Meagan put the supplies in her car, and headed toward the cabin. Tom had her stay for a cup of tea, wanting to make sure she was all right after the encounter with the bikers.

Continuing north, she spotted motorcycles parked outside a roadside tavern. She didn’t slow down, but found herself depressing the accelerator; not taking a breath until she was well past it

A loud pop forced her to slow the car. The steering wheel shook in her hands. Pulling off to the side, she climbed out of the car, and walked around to the passenger side. Her shoulders slumped when she saw the front passenger tire was flat.
Great.

Stepping to the back, Meagan opened the trunk to find the jack and lug wrench. Having never changed a tire before, Meagan had no idea what to do. Her father never showed her how to do things he considered man’s work. Heading back to the passenger door, she leaned in to dig her cell phone out of her bag. Just as she found the number for roadside assistance, a bright light flooded her field of vision as the sound of a motorcycle stopped in front of her car. Her heart jumped into her throat.

Meagan raised her hand to block the bright headlight. The person walking towards her was tall, and broad shouldered. His figure blocked out the light casting a strong silhouette around him. Not knowing what to do, she was at the mercy of whoever he was. She just hoped it wasn’t the one from the store. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see it wasn’t.

Breathing a sigh of relief, her breath caught again. The man standing before her wore a leather jacket, a dark t-shirt that seemed to strain against a muscular chest, low-slung jeans, and boots. She bit her lower lip taking in the sight.

“Having trouble?”

His voice was deep, but soft. It sang in her ears. “Y...yes. Flat tire.”

He smiled. “If you’ve got a jack, I’ll take care of it for you.”

Meagan couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. “Hmm? Oh, yes, in the trunk.” Her phone thudded against the seat. Meagan stepped to the back of the car, grabbed the jack and lug wrench. Meagan held them against her stomach, lost in the warmth travelling through her.

He smiled again. “Did you want help?”

“With what?”

Chuckling, he said “The flat tire.”

“I’m sorry.” Feeling the warmth moving into her cheeks with a blush, Meagan handed him the jack and lug wrench. “It’s the front passenger.”

“Do you have a flashlight?”

Nodding, Meagan returned to the front of the car. Leaning over the door, she pulled the flashlight out of the glove compartment. Turning back, she was surprised to find him standing so close.

His deep green eyes watched her move, “Hold it on the tire for me.”

Stepping to one side, Meagan shined the light on the flat tire. Her eyes widened, watching him shed the leather jacket, his back muscles rippled under the cotton shirt.

Meagan was enjoying the view. Her thoughts slipped into unfamiliar territory. She watched his hands work the wrench and wondered what they would feel like touching her.

She wasn’t naïve to how relationships were, but her parents raised her to save herself. They never had to know about the quiet nights spent learning about her body. Her mind filled with fantasies of a man, with strong hands, claiming her as his own.

In no time, the old tire was off and the spare was in its place. It happened all too quickly for Meagan. He stood, “That should do it.” He headed back to the trunk to replace the tools and blown tire.

Meagan followed. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

He smiled, green eyes twinkling, “You just did.”

She blushed again. “I’m Meagan.” She smiled catching him watching her mouth.

“Liam.” His left hand reached up, closed the trunk. “Do you have far to go?”

“No, the cabin is just a mile or so up the road.” Inside she wanted him to offer to make sure she got there safely. Another voice popped into her head, ‘Meagan, good girls don’t talk to criminals.’ According to her mother, all men who rode motorcycles were criminals.

“Good, the spare looks safe, but I’d get the bad one replaced as soon as possible.”

She could get lost in his eyes. Even though they smiled at her; she saw something sad hidden in them. “I will.” Meagan was willing to help take the sadness away.

He nodded, “Have a good night.”

She hid her disappointment as he walked back to his bike. “Thank you.”

He flashed a perfect smile. “Anytime.” Starting his bike, he moved back onto the road and disappeared into the darkness.

Meagan watched until the small light on the back of his bike was out of sight before moving back to the driver’s seat. Glancing to her right, she smiled, grabbing the leather jacket lying across the passenger door. She hoped that meant she would see her hero again.

Heading back onto the road, she continued toward the cabin - a smile crossed her lips as it came into view. Her parents bought the cabin before she was born. They brought her up in the summers, though her father would only stay a week or so at a time. Meagan and her mother would enjoy the small lake and serene woods away from the city. She knew it was the perfect place to find herself again.

Pulling the car under the covered area beside the cabin, Meagan unloaded the groceries and her bags and headed inside. Over the next hour, she opened the windows, swept, and put everything away. The cabin was fully furnished. Her mother didn’t believe in living out of suitcases, so each bedroom had a dresser and wardrobe. It wasn’t close to roughing it, but Meagan found it difficult to break with her mother’s traditions.

While she put her clothes away, next to those left from the previous summer, her eyes kept falling onto the leather jacket lying on the bed. Her thoughts drifted back to her chance encounter with Liam. Meagan loved the way he sounded when he spoke, his deep voice carrying just a hint of an Irish accent. She wanted his strong arms to envelop her, hold her close to him as his mouth claimed hers. A light shudder travelled through her, waking her senses.

Without thought, she dropped onto the bed, and picked up the jacket. Bringing it closer to her, she could smell the leather mixed with a strong masculine scent. Just his scent aroused her. She held the jacket against her chest, her mind imagining Liam there. Her fingers played over her thigh, inching up her skirt.

Her mind let go as she laid back, letting the fantasy take over. Closing her eyes as he stepped into the room, she felt his kiss as his mouth claimed hers. Strong fingers grazed her hem up, exposing her thigh. His sweet mouth moved to capture her neck; he whispered in her ear how she belonged to him. Meagan’s mind reeled wanting him to take her and make her his.

Long fingers dipped between her thighs, teasing her wetness before plunging into her. Her hips arched up, desperate to take him in deeper. His mouth continued to kiss and suck over her neck as his fingers thrust in and out, bringing her ever closer to release. Arching her back, she gave over to her orgasm and called out his name.

Waves crashed over her, carrying her along in ecstasy. After several moments, breathing ragged, she rolled onto her side clutching the leather jacket to her. Alone.

Chapter Three

L
iam enjoyed the last curve
, sighing as he slowed to enter the parking lot of a roadside tavern. Spotting the collection of motorcycles lined along the front of the place, he slipped his into an open space near the end. The engine quieted, but his senses heighten. Smelling the air, he glanced around not moving. A moment later, the faint smell vanished, along with the feeling of someone watching him.
Cowards.

Liam swung his leg over the seat, his boots scraping over the loose gravel. Stopping on the wooden porch, he turned watching another bike enter the parking lot.

“You’re late.”

The leaner man approaching him grinned. “Meeting don’t start without me, so I’m right on time. Hey, you lose something?”

Liam’s brow furrowed, and then he realized he was missing his leather jacket. “Left it back at the motel.” He lied.
No need for more questions than I want to answer.

They hugged, “It’s good to see you Devon. How was the road?”

“Good. How about you? Still seeing ghosts?” His head cocked to one side, watching Liam’s reaction.

“Not so much anymore.” He lied.

His clear blue eyes narrowed, and then he smiled. “I’m glad; its time to move on.”

Nodding. They turned and headed inside. Loud rock music blasted them as the double wooden doors opened.

The tavern wasn’t anything special. The bar ran the length of the left wall, with round tables scattered in the centre, booths along the back wall. A small stage occupied the right wall with a pool table in the front corner.

Two men with cues stood around eyeing the table, wearing leather vests, t-shirts, boots, and jeans. Their vests showed off the same patch Devon sported on his jacket. The taller of the two, bent over, lined up his cue, and tapped the blue-streaked white ball. It rolled gently across the table, knocked into the blue stripped ball, sending it into the pocket.

The crowd watching the game let out a collective grunt. Each of them nursed a drink in one hand, and a woman in the other. Liam watched for a moment before heading to the bar.

The older woman behind the bar leaned across the slick surface. “Hi ya handsome. What can I get you?” She smiled, showing off the attractiveness from her youth.

Dropping onto the nearest barstool, “Whiskey.”

She paused, “You okay sunshine? You don’t usually drink the heavy stuff.”

“Tonight I do.” His expression told her to let it go.

Ginger had been serving drinks to the group for the past several years. She understood not to ask too many questions, but in return, they all made sure trouble stayed far away from her place.

She slid the drink to him.

He downed it in a single swallow, and then slid it back. “Another.”

Ginger glanced at Devon who took the stool next to him.

“I didn’t ask him.” Liam growled. In the corner of his eye, he saw Devon give her a slight nod.

She poured another.

“Leave the bottle.”

She looked again at Devon for approval.

Liam captured her wrist, “Leave it.” He released his hold when he felt her tremble. “Sorry.”

Ginger nodded her pale cheeks now paler. She grabbed a towel and started wiping the bar down.

Downing his second, Liam claimed the bottle, pouring another. An empty shot glass appeared in front of Devon. Snorting, Liam filled it.

“I thought the ghosts were gone.” He said, downing half his shot.

“When I got here, I felt someone watching me.”

“Do you think it was him?”

Sending another shot down. “Who else? It wasn’t enough for him to take Jules.”

Cheers from the pool table suggested some of the bikers won a bit of money. Liam paused, feeling female hands move up his back over his dark t-shirt. Heavy perfume filled his senses; it did little to mask her natural scent. “Wendy.”

“Hello handsome.” Her hands continued to move up his back to play with his ear and hair.

Liam shifted, “Shouldn’t you be with Donny?”

“He isn’t paying attention to me. I thought I’d see what you were up to.” Her tone never left out the flirt and invitation.

Standing, he grabbed the bottle. He turned to her, “Maybe if you weren’t whoring yourself out to the club, he’d pay better attention.”

Her mouth opened, eyes widened as her hand moved up to slap him. “Who do you think you are?”

Capturing her hand, “Not interested.” He gave just enough pressure to remind her of her place. Letting go, he grabbed his glass and headed to a corner booth.

“You’re going to regret that.” She spat before heading to the ladies’ room. No one followed; no one was interested in getting involved.

The pool game started up again, as did the various conversations. All was normal again.

Liam poured another drink. He got lost in his thoughts. Part of him responded to Wendy’s offer, but not enough to do anything about it. Mating season was coming; memories of Jules always came this time of year in a way it was hard to ignore. Other women could satisfy the physical need, but no one other than her could touch his soul. Now with feeling Gerard coming at him again, it only brought the memories back stronger.

Devon started the club meeting leaving Liam to his bottle and privacy.

G
erard tossed back
a second shot of whiskey. His mind focused on earlier that evening. He watched Liam when he arrived at the roadhouse, wanting to rip his throat out right there, but Angus convinced him to wait. He wanted to make him pay ten-fold for what happened to his mate.

Then there was the woman who caught his attention. There was something about her, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was the first to force him to entertain the notion of taking another mate. She looked meek, but Gerard could sense the strength in her.

Chuckling, he decided Liam could wait another night. He couldn’t pass up what the chance encounter offered. Flipping his empty shot glass over, he dropped several bills onto the mahogany bar. “Thanks.” Pushing off the stool, he headed to the door.

Ever-present Angus left the pool table and blocked his way. Angus was physically larger than Gerard was, but he would never dare question his authority. “What?”

“Going out?”

Smiling, his teeth bared just enough to remind him who was in charge. “A breath of fresh air you might say.”

“What of Liam?”

“What of him? He’s not going anywhere.” Snorts, “He knows I’m here, he won’t be able to resist coming after me.” The cockiness in his voice spread through the bar. He smiled, watching the others look up at the sound. Turning his attention back to Angus, “You have a problem with that?”

Sighing, Angus backed down, “I have ridden this hunt with you and won’t walk away now. I’ll be there when you’re ready to deal with him.” He sounded more like the brother Gerard had come to see him as.

Resting his hand on Angus’ shoulder, “No worries brother. Tomorrow night will be his last.”

Angus nodded and shifted so Gerard could pass easily. The screen door banged behind him. Gerard pointed his bike back toward the grocery store. The man behind the counter knew her name; he had to know where she lived. He would tell Gerard, one way or the other.

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