Bloodrunner Dragon (Harper's Mountains Book 1) (7 page)

She taunted, because that was his real punishment for denying her. Harper took him slowly, then eased back. She ran her nails up his leg and cupped his balls on the next. Wyatt wasn’t so patient now as he held her and thrusted into her mouth faster.

Faster and faster she took him until he jerked out of her mouth and released her head. Closing his eyes, he blew out three soft “Fucks,” then pulled her up against the tree. “Don’t want to come in your mouth. Not for our first time.”

First time. They’d been together a dozen times when they were eighteen, but she understood. It hadn’t been like this. They both had more experience now, and were different people. After all they’d been through, it was easy to appreciate the importance of his moment.

Wyatt’s lips were all over hers, his tongue dipping rhythmically past her lips as he pressed his entire body onto her. Easing back by an inch, he pulled her shirt over her head and threw it onto the forest floor and, ooooh, she was melting. Melting into the tree, melting against his fiery skin, melting into this moment. She was so wet, her panties were soaking through. Wyatt leaned down and drew one of her nipples into his mouth until it tingled and drew up into a tight bud.

Arching her back against the tree, Harper looked up into the forest canopy above her and wondered how she’d gone so long without this. Without his mouth on her, without this feeling of completion. Wyatt dragged burning kisses up her chest and to her neck, allowing a hint of his teeth, and she was gone. He pushed his hand down the front of her panties and let off a long, feral sound when he slid his touch through the wetness he’d conjured between her legs. His breath hitching, he pushed his finger into her, gave her a few graceful strokes, then added another. She knew what he was doing. Wyatt was huge, and he was making sure she was ready for him.

Harper writhed against his hand. “I want more,” she murmured. “I want you.”

Riiiiiip.
Her shredded panties were now in the dirt near her sleep-shirt, and Wyatt was shoving her knees farther apart. Here it was! The moment she’d dreamed of. The moment she’d imagined and touched herself to countless times.

Wyatt slid his shaft against her folds in a delicious tease. So close. Harper rolled her hips and caught his desperate kiss, gripped the back of his hair, and grazed her teeth against his bottom lip. Wyatt dipped into her by an inch, then lifted the back of her knee as he pulled back out. He eased into her slowly, stretching her, filling her. And he didn’t stop until his hips met hers. “Wyatt,” she whispered, disbelieving that anything could feel so good, so right.

Wyatt eased out and then pressed into her again, faster this time. And with every stroke, his abs flexed, hard as stone against her. And every time he hit her just right, she let off a needy noise that seemed to drive him mad and make him quicken his pace. Burying his face against her neck, he pulled her other leg around him and buried himself so deeply in her she gasped at the slight tinge of pain that mingled with the pleasure. He froze there for a moment, stayed deep, and thrust into her shallowly, hitting her clit with every smooth stroke.

Crying out with every thrust, clawing his back, she was lost to the intense pleasure he was building in her middle now. She felt everything so acutely. The tingling sensation in her center, the tree bark against her back, the rightness of their connected bodies, the rasp of his short facial scruff against her neck, the beautiful burn of his teeth grazing her healing throat.

“Come with me,” he growled out as he slammed into her harder, but he didn’t have to ask.

She was there. The moon was too bright now so she closed her eyes against the blue light and screamed out his name as orgasm exploded through her. Wyatt drove deeper, faster, and yelled out as his dick throbbed inside of her, shooting warmth into her core. He didn’t slow, just bucked into her harder with every release of his seed until it was too much for her to hold. Warmth trickled down her thighs, and he froze, grunted with the final pulse of his shaft. Heaving breaths matching, Wyatt relaxed against her, held her tight. He brushed his lips against her neck and began moving slowing within her, drawing each aftershock out until her body was depleted.

She intertwined her fingers behind his head, and when she opened her eyes, she could see the old Wyatt there. The one who had loved her fiercely. Her eyes prickled with emotion, and she buried her face against his chest so he wouldn’t see how affected she was. “I missed you so much,” she said on a breath. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

Stroking her hair and hugging her tightly against him, Wyatt sighed and murmured, “My body left you, Harper, but my heart never did.”

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted his oath. She wanted a spoken promise from Wyatt because she saw so clearly the man he’d turned out to be. He was a man of his word. If he said it aloud, he would stick to it. She eased back and searched his blazing blue eyes. And then she whispered, “No leaving.”

Wyatt smiled sadly and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You’ll be the one leaving this time.”

Harper slid her arms around his neck, hugged him close, and stared into his woods over his shoulder. The woods his bear had claimed as his territory. The woods she didn’t know. The woods that weren’t home. He was here, in this new life he’d created for himself, and she didn’t know where she fit into that.

My body left you…my heart never did.

Harper squeezed her eyes closed, and two tears ran down her cheeks.

She didn’t know how everything got so messed up, but she knew one thing.

Her heart wasn’t whole without him.

Clack…

Clack…

Clack…

Harper squinted her eyes open then moved the pillow she was hugging over her face to shield it from the sunlight streaming through the window. What were the boys doing this early? It didn’t sound like chopping wood, but it had the same kind of echo.

Clack.

With a low rumble in her throat, she clicked her fire-starter once in agitation, then threw the covers off and rocked out of bed. One look in the mirror, and she yelped. She’d showered late last night after she and Wyatt had returned from their woodland boinking, and now she looked like she’d stuck a fork in a socket.

The noise continued as she brushed her teeth, straitened her hair, put on her make-up, and dressed. Curious, she kicked Weston’s blankets out of the way of the door, then made her way out into the living room.

Aaron and Weston were sitting on the couch, just two grown men watching cartoons and eating straight out of the cereal boxes. Aaron tilted his head back and drank from the milk jug. Gross.

“Wyatt made you oatmeal an hour ago,” Weston said without turning around. The cartoon was a trio of bouncing bears, dancing to a ridiculously annoying song about apricots and berries.

She moved to the table, peeked over the rim of the white ceramic bowl, and couldn’t help the smile that stretched her face. He’d topped her oatmeal with honey, raisins, and cinnamon, just like she used to eat every day for breakfast her junior and senior year before Wyatt drove her to school.

He remembered.

Clack.

Harper grabbed the bowl and a spoon and meandered around the couch. Weston was wearing his favorite camouflage hat, and today Aaron had gelled back his longer blond hair. The crunching sound of their eating was constant as they took turns dumping cereal into their maws.

Aaron turned to another station, but it was just another cartoon. “God, the channels suck here,” he muttered. And yet he kept watching.

Shaking her head, Harper made her way around the tossed blankets all over the floor where the boys had slept last night and onto the porch.

Clack.

The slap of a baseball against leather gloves was what she’d been hearing. Wyatt was playing catch with Ryder from an insane distance apart. The ball blurred through the air, barely visible it was so fast. Ryder caught it and hissed. “Damn, James, you haven’t missed a step.”

Wyatt had been the pitcher for their little league team when they were kids. Weston’s dad and Wyatt’s dad had coached the kids from Damon’s mountains until they outgrew the sport. Harper sat down on the top porch stair since it was the only one not broken from the vampire attack that first night. Someone had hosed the vamp ashes from the porch, thank goodness.

She ate her cold oatmeal and smiled shyly when Wyatt gave her that sexy wink and crooked smile he used to be known for. Whew, he always drove the girls in the crews wild. He was the oldest—the chill, smart, confident one who had the biggest, baddest bear inside of him. He was destined to be alpha, like his father before him, and there had been something so sexy about barely harnessed power like that.

Harper had crushed on him for years before he wised up and held her hand at a homecoming dance.

“Remember when your dad and Mason took us on that road trip for that baseball game?” Ryder called across the clearing.

“Which one?”

“Montana.”

Wyatt snorted and threw the ball back in a blur.
Clack.
“Yeah, Clinton went with us as a chaperone. He was supposed to help Dad and Mason wrangle us, but instead he gave us a bottle of whiskey, and we all got wasted on the hotel balcony the night before the game.”

“Harper was the worst.” Ryder nodded his chin to her and shook his head. “Sloppy then, sloppy now.”

“Rude,” she teased around a bite of breakfast.

“You did get us caught, though,” Wyatt said, catching the ball.
Clack.

“See, you all blamed me, but it was really Weston’s fault. He was puking in the hotel bathroom half the night, and Mason busted him way before I admitted anything.”

“Thanks a lot, Harper!” Weston called from inside.

“Wait, what?” Wyatt asked. “I didn’t know that. Why did you let us give you so much shit over it?”

“Because I was a good friend,” Harper said lightly.

“
Was
,” Weston called. “
Was
a good friend.”

Mmm, mmm, mmm, Wyatt was a tall drink of water on a hot summer day. It was chilly this morning, and he was wearing one of those V-neck gray cotton shirts under a blue flannel he’d left unbuttoned. The color made his eyes look inhumanly bright. And with each throw, his movement emphasized his trim waist, long, powerful legs, and biceps bulging against the fabric. He sure grew up right.

“Dude, do you not work?” Ryder asked in a judgmental tone. “Is this your life? Just fighting vampires and sitting around at your cabin?”

Wyatt let off a single laugh. “Well, I was letting the Queen of the Asheville Coven drain my neck every few days for money, but now I’m out of that job.”

“On account of you killing your employer?” Aaron asked from behind Harper.

Wyatt twitched his head as a dark look took his features. “Yes, sir. Other than that, I work at the gem mine hauling dirt for tourists and rock stores that sell it.”

“Why would stores sell bags of dirt?” Weston asked from the open doorway.

“Because you never know. There could be a precious gem in there. Beryl and Corundum are guaranteed in every bag.” Wyatt blasted the ball into Ryder’s glove again. “The pay isn’t great, but my bear needs it. I get to work heavy machinery—”

“An excavator?” Aaron asked.

Wyatt nodded and caught the ball.
Clack.
“Yeah, and I haul a lot of weight, which sates my bear. Kane works with me out there, and between the two of us, the owner doesn’t have to employ a ton of labor. I asked for a couple days off, and my boss gave them to me. I’ve never taken any sick days before, and this week has been slow. The cold weather slows down tourist season.”

“Sooo,” Aaron drawled. “That’s cool that Kane is your friend and all, but I saw his eyes after the fight last night when he didn’t have his sunglasses on. Am I the only one freaked out by the fact that there is an unregistered dragon with fucking out-of-control lizard eyes in this town?”

Harper raised two fingers. “I’m bothered. He’s a Blackwing.”

“Whoa,” Weston said. “Blackwing as in Marcus’s line?” And now he was glaring at Wyatt again like Kane’s existence was also his fault.

Wyatt threw the ball up in the air and then caught it easily with his glove. “Trust me when I say this—Kane isn’t a threat.”

“He beat me at arm wrestling,” Harper argued. “And he eats peanuts out of the community bar bowl. Huge threat.”

Wyatt’s chuckle was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. “Oh crap,” he murmured as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He frowned at the screen. “I have to take this. Harper, toss the ball with Ryder.”

“Neeeeew,” Ryder whined. “She throws like a girl.” He looked at her scowl and muttered, “Just kidding, don’t eat me.”

Harper snorted. Her grandfather used to be a man-eater. She didn’t enjoy the taste of people’s ashes at all. Still, she’d threatened the boys within an inch of their everlovin’ lives anytime they stepped out of line when they were kids.

Harper caught the glove and ball Wyatt tossed her, then watched him saunter off to the side, hand on his hip and back to them as he answered the call.

Ryder was eyeballs-deep in bullshit because Harper had been team captain of their little league team, a title she’d earned. She chucked the ball at him. He squealed and danced out of the way of her zinger, and at the last moment, reached to the side and caught it. Harper smirked when he rubbed his sore hand.

“Damn straight, I throw like a girl.”

A few more rounds of that, and Wyatt hung up. “Okay, so I want to show you all something.”

“Hard pass,” Weston said. “I’m about to leave.”

“I really want you to stay, man. Just for a couple more hours. You’ve all asked me what I’m doing here, and I want to show you.” Wyatt hooked his hands on his hips and gave Weston a pleading look. “Please. It would maybe explain some of the stuff you don’t understand about me.”

Weston slid his hat from his head, then replaced it with a pissed-off sigh. “Fine. Two hours, and then I’m out.” He strode past Wyatt, hitting him in the shoulder with his own, and climbed up in his truck. “I’m driving.”

Harper hugged Wyatt’s waist and smiled up at him sympathetically. “You know Wes. His loyalty is hard to earn.”

“I know. I broke his trust.”

“So get it back,” she murmured through a saucy grin. Feeling bold, Harper reached up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

“Barf,” Ryder called. “I’m barfing right now. I’m barfing in my mouth.”

Wyatt laughed against her lips and angled his face, then thrust his tongue into her mouth once before he eased back with a sexy peck. Then he grabbed her ass hard and turned her toward the truck.

Damn that man could give her a serious case of the butterflies. Her stomach was doing gymnastics right now, and when she made her way to the pickup, she felt as drunk as she had all those years ago at that hotel in Montana.

“I call window!” Harper said, but the boys had already beat her to it. Aaron told her to “climb over” instead of moving his legs out of the way, the bunion.

“Where to?” Weston asked in a none-too-charitable voice.

“Take a right on the main road,” Wyatt instructed.

“Town is left,” Harper pointed out.

Wyatt shot her a quick grin and rolled down the window. “We aren’t going to town.”

He rested his arm on the edge of the door and relaxed back against the headrest. Now Harper had a perfect view of his gloriously chiseled jaw line. He’d shaved this morning, and he was somehow even more handsome under the scruff. And then, as if he could tell she was checking him out, he reached behind him and hooked his giant hand on the back of her calf and squeezed it once reassuringly.

Heat pooled in her stomach, and her cheeks blazed with pleased warmth. Ignoring Aaron and Ryder’s eye rolls, she grabbed Wyatt’s hand as he moved to pull away from her and kissed his palm quick.

Twenty-eight years old, and this man had her feeling like a teenager experiencing first love again. And maybe she was. Maybe this was normal for someone who had been through what she had. She was so infinitely relieved that he was back in her life and showing her the same affection, attention, and care that she felt for him. He wasn’t holding back or treating her like she was temporary.

Instead, Wyatt was bonding them.