Dragon Ugly (Dragon New Year) (10 page)

Summoning all her willpower, she grabbed Brent’s hand and moved it away, despite the howls of protest from both her wolf and her body. She wanted to sleep with Brent, but dammit—she would be the one to decide when and where.

Chapter Nine

Brent felt her trying to pull away from the moment, and could only smirk. He sat back in his chair but didn’t move back around the table. “You can run away from what you’re feeling all you want, sweetheart, but you’ll give in to me eventually. Also, remember, we have a dinner date tonight.”

“I haven’t forgotten, but you’ll only get a tour and dinner. Nothing else.” She sounded tough, but there was a quiver in her voice that made him grin.

Her arousal was obvious. He was sure she could smell her own desire. Brent wouldn’t let her forget how he had affected her. But first, some food.

His own dragon was egging him on, and he needed a distraction before he did something stupid. He ate, but didn’t really taste anything. Every breath he took reminded him of her damp panties. The pressure in his pants was verging on painful. His balls ached for release and his cock was pressing against his fly, demanding freedom. She wasn’t the only uncomfortable one here. He reached down and adjusted his erection, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, she seemed very intent on looking at her lobster pasta dish. When the waiter came back to offer them wine, they both declined. Brent had work in an hour or two and Carissa had to get back to Scentify.

Brent thought back to the aromatherapy store. It was nice, clean and had a welcoming feel. But there was something missing about it. It lacked Carissa’s personal touch. He took in the woman next to him. The phantom taste of skin on his tongue blended with the soup he’d chosen for lunch—a salty tang with just a hint of earthy flavor, which made him yearn to lick and kiss every inch of her. He could see her tied down and blindfolded as he used an ice cube and his tongue on her body to rile her up, making her beg.

Out of the corner of his eye he took her in, calm and cool, controlled. Only her unique perfume gave away that anything was wrong. Her body heat no longer scalded his side, but he could still feel that fire from her skin against the bare flesh of his forearm.

They ate their fill in silence. When the server came back to ask about dessert, Carissa declined. She checked her watch. “Sorry, but I have to get back.”

Brent understood. He had to get back to the house himself and change.

Before she could insist on paying he handed the waiter his credit card. “I’ll meet you out front.”

She opened her mouth and he took her lips in a quick kiss to stop her from protesting. “No need to pay. Next time we go out, it’ll be your turn. How’s that?”

Carissa chuckled. “Have it all figured out do you? Fine. Next time.”

She pushed back her chair and left him. He returned his seat back to its rightful place before going to the front. Once the check was paid, he offered her his arm and they left. Carissa turned toward him as soon as they passed the restaurant front. “Thank you. I’ll see you for dinner tonight at the shop.”

He grinned. “Yes, you will.”

She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, but that wasn’t good enough. He bent his head to hers, slid his arm out from her hold and took her face in his hands. He held her head in place as he ate at her lips, nipping, kissing, sucking and teasing the tender flesh until he sunk his tongue deep inside of her mouth. Wolf whistles and clapping sounded around them from onlookers. He ignored it all and continued to control the kiss. He felt pressure on his chest, but rather than push him away she moved closer, bunching his shirt in her hands as she moved her hips against his, rubbing herself against his erection.

He saw stars behind his eyelids as sparks of pleasure raced up and down his cock. A groan floated between them. Whether it came from him or her, her didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He just wanted more. She tasted so sweet. He was addicted. He ran his hands down from her face, over her shoulders, and traced the curves and dips of her back, feeling the heated skin underneath the flimsy blouse she wore. Brent wanted to tear it off. His hands clenched the silken fabric, ready to rip it apart, when he felt a sharp tug on his shirt.

Brent whirled around and growled at the person who had interrupted them. A searing pain shook along his fingers as they turned to claws and steam billowed out of his mouth and nostrils. His scales pressed upward into his flesh, shimmering on the surface until his flesh had turned to the colors of the sea. Warmth and pain filled his muscles as they expanded, preparing for the change to half-dragon mode. His head throbbed as his skull slimmed and his nose began to recede. Brent’s lips burned as they thinned and his cheekbones ached as they contorted into a sharper shape. His thoughts became a distant mist, insubstantial compared to the raw need to make Carissa his—all his.

Tor stood before him, but he was no longer a friend. He was an enemy, a possible challenge for his mate.

Tor held up his hands, eyes pure obsidian, body slack and relaxed. “Whoa there, buddy. Calm down. It’s me. It’s only me, Tor, your friend.” Tor waved a hand, but it took a moment for Brent to understand what was going on. “We’re in public, man. Pub-lic.”

Brent blinked and looked around. A crowd had formed around him. His dragon felt threatened and put on display. He growled. Searing hot, bone-melting steam streamed out of his mouth and nostrils again. He could feel dragonfire swirling around his chest, building up pressure, ready to escape. A hand on his forearm made him pause, and a calm, soothing sensation twined around his arm and wrapped around his body. He looked down, confused at this new feeling, and saw Carissa staring up at him, calm in her gaze, her soft hand on his arm.

“Brent, pull back. It’s okay. No one will hurt you.” The softness and reasonableness of her words pulled back the shift and sent his dragon down on his belly, calm and docile, like a sleepy kitten. He winced at the return to his normal form.

Carissa lifted up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “Dinner, tonight,” she whispered. Then she turned and walked away.

What the fuck had just happened? Was he starting to go through his own mating heat? Tor came toward him, the scent of fire and spice drifted over him, soothing and calming him down a bit. Brent turned to his friend, trying to bat back the sense of fear curling in his stomach. “What’s happening to me?”

Tor gave him a rueful smile. “You, my son…” He clapped him on the shoulder and gave it a painful squeeze. “…are growing up. You’ve found your mate and now the bonding instinct is kicking in. As soon as you have sex with her, the mating will truly activate and you’ll become a possessive, territorial asshole.” He gave Brent a wicked grin that made Brent sick to his stomach.

It wasn’t idea of being mated to Carissa that he found repulsive—they already were mates, he knew that—it was the process that was putting him ill-at-ease. He could just see himself becoming a jealous jerk and creating scenes that would drive her away from him. “Does this mean the dragon will control my impulses?” The sinking feeling grew until he thought he would throw up.

“In a sense, yes,” Tor said. “Neither of you can truly control it. It’s pure instinct, but for every dragon it’s different. Just warn her before you do something really stupid.” Tor began to lead him away from Scentify. With every step Brent took, his dragon protested. Now that they’d had a taste, the dragon only wanted more. It didn’t want to allow her any time to slip away from him.

Each step was difficult, as his muscles protested. His lungs burned with exertion, and each breath came out labored. Brent wanted to turn and run back, bundle Carissa in his arms, and carry her away. He could only imagine what she was going through at this moment. Did werewolves have separation anxiety? Bonding fever? He knew they went into heat too, but were they as possessive as dragons were? There was so much he didn’t know.

He would be with her tonight, and that would have to be enough to keep his dragon satisfied for now. With a deep breath, he focused on walking with Tor. “So, what’s Lou got lined up for us today? Besides trying to kill us with work and changes?”

Tor shrugged. “The usual stuff, but she convinced the big boss to let us hire more servers, temporary staff for the rest of the month. From what we’re hearing around town, people love it here so much that they’re willing to stay beyond the festival. Great for business, but the police have their hands full with all the road congestion and parties.” Tor shook his head. “There’s even talk of town being like this for Samhain, and don’t get me started on Christmas. Can you imagine? Snow and ice on the ground? Dear gods, and I’m pretty sure the mayor is pulling her hair out with the influx.”

Brent smirked. “I’d hate to be in her position right now. Do you think people will want to move here? I mean, normals?” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about their little niche of society being overrun with humans. Shadow Onyx City had always been the city where paras and normals mixed, not their little hamlet. They barely had any humans living here full time. Now it looked like times were changing and they’d all have to adjust.

“I don’t know,” Tor said. “She’d have to negotiate with the shifters for land, and honestly, the bears are far too stingy with their forests. Then there are the packs to consider. I don’t even want to think of what would go on in the mountains.” Tor shuddered and Brent was right there with them.

“The dragons would hate to have to share space with things they’d thought of as food up until a century or two ago. And we’d probably get the rich, entitled brats moving up there.” Brent didn’t want to think about how his parents would react to normals invading their home. They liked their quiet life.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, Tor. How’d your parents take it about Louisa?”

Tor shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. “They practically screamed my ear off. They want to meet her—like now. We’re going up there for the autumn equinox to celebrate. Mom’s getting the whole freakin’ clan over there. I don’t know about Louisa, but I’m terrified they’ll try to kidnap her. My cousins are all going to fall in love with her.” He shook his head.

Brent chuckled. “My mom will probably try to kidnap Carissa. I just know it. She’s always wanted a daughter, and Carissa has access to aromatherapy. My mom will be in heaven. If that includes spa facilities and makeup, dear god, I’d never see her.”

Tor laughed. “Look at you, making plans already. You need to win her over first. Are you willing to work for her?”

Brent thought about the question. It didn’t take long for the answer to come to him. “Of course. She’s worth it, completely.”

Tor clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, ’cause I think you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

Brent frowned. “What do you mean?” They stopped in front of a sporting goods store.

“Because any mate worth having is a mate you have to fight for, whether they have personal demons or another lover in the picture. Just be prepared for difficulties.” Tor nodded toward the parking lot. “Come on, let’s go home. We have to prep for work. I have a feeling Louisa’s going to call us to come in early to help the newbies acclimate to the pub.”

Brent nodded. He needed some time away from Carissa. He needed to get centered before their dinner tonight.

Tor ended up being right about Louisa’s call. It came as soon as they walked through the door, and they were out again in half an hour, showered, dressed in their uniforms, and ready for an early shift.

When they got to the Dragon’s Lair, there was already a crowd. Brent looked around, confused. “What the hell? Why are people here already?”

“Because the boss put out word that we’d have The Snake here tonight doing an acoustic session,” Tor explained as they entered the building. Louisa met them, looking much calmer than she had been the previous night, but she had a creepy smile on her face that made Brent uneasy. Had Happy Hour come earlier than expected?

“Let’s go, guys,” she said. “I’m on allergy meds and the new help needs to be trained. Get to it while I grab an hour’s sleep okay? I’m already starting to see unicorns and giant, candy corn trees.”

Brent snickered. “Must be some strong stuff. We can handle things from here. Don’t worry about it.”

Louisa snorted. “Of course I don’t, because you know I’d have to kill you if you couldn’t handle things. Don’t eat all the brownies. I’d like to take some home with me.”

As Louisa walked away, Tor let out a groan and Brent had to snicker. “Looks like no sex for you tonight, buddy.”

Brent dragged Tor and Fletch off to handle the new servers. Everything went smoothly for the first hour or so. To test out the newbies, they let in a group of people and monitored their progress. But then Tiberio “The Snake” De Lorenzo strolled in through the employee entrance, set up his stool, microphone, and equipment and started to warm up. There was only him, no other band members, not even in the audience.

Brent paused to take in the snake shifter. Wavy, black hair, threaded with a bit of white, fell to his shoulders. Eerie, bright yellow-green eyes with flecks of amber looked out over the crowd. He wore a worn, grey T-shirt with a pock-marked and peeling Hulk image on it, and baggy jeans. The tips of black cowboy boots peeked out from under his pant legs. His rich, gold skin gleamed, even in the low, intimate light of the stage. His face looked like it had been cut from marble, with chiseled, classic features that made women swoon. He was in his forties, but he had a lean, whip-like body that looked ready to strike at any moment.

Tiberio had an air of mystery and danger about him. Brent felt a sense of unease creep along his spine as he continued to watch the man, unable to take his gaze away. It was like he was being hypnotized just watching the rocker walk around the stage. Even from the back of the pub, he could hear the man’s voice as he hummed to himself. It was low and rough, and the sound sent chills through Brent.

He breathed in and out, slowly and rhythmically, as his heart slowed down. All he could see was Tiberio. Every muscle in his body felt frozen. All of his senses slowed down. Even his dragon was entranced.