Better Than Chocolate (4 page)

And then the tremors had started. She came
this
close to shifting into her dragon form right there, on the damned subway, in front of humans! She couldn't risk that happening again. Not for Rafael. Not for anyone.

If her parents thought she was a colossal failure now, she shuddered to imagine what they'd think of her if she ended up being single-handedly responsible for revealing dragon-kind's existence.

Yeah. There was a dinner conversation she wanted to avoid forever.

She shifted from one foot to the other and inched closer to the glass. Rafael paced on the sidewalk, in front of the store. He ran a hand through his dark, short-clipped curls. Confusion creased his brow as he took in the height of Madam Periwinkle's Erotic Delights. He walked from one end of the store to the other, but gave no indication of coming in.

Was he shy? Prudish? Judging by the myriad of raunchy things he did to her on a nightly basis, she'd say that was a far cry from the truth. So what held him back, then?

She advanced another couple of steps until her nose pressed against the door.

Rafael paused, rolled his shoulders, looked right at her.

Heart lurching in her throat, Silvana knew she couldn't ignore him any longer. Guilt nagged the edges of her mind. He'd looked so confused on that train, so sincerely puzzled about her behavior. Maybe she owed him a genuine conversation. She'd simply have to keep him at a distance; that was all. Stay far, far away from his tempting body, his luscious lips, and his broad, masculine hands. She could shout across the length of the store, if she had to.

With a slight grimace, she lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave. But before she could wiggle her fingertips, Rafael's gaze fled beyond her, darting left and right, above her head, focusing everywhere except on her eyes.

Then he sighed and took a step forward.

A cry caught in Silvana's throat. Rafael glided through the storefront window. She could still see him. Well, some of him, at any rate. His impressive male physique was now no more than a shimmering silhouette, a bright imprint against the purple elegance of the store.

"Don't worry about him, dear. His kind have no power here."

Silvana spun around, knocking into the large, voluptuous chest of a tall, purple-haired woman. Stunned by the unexpected presence, she reached out to steady herself and ended up splaying her palm against the woman's right breast in the process.

For a moment, she could only stare in horror at her hand. Her fingers had slipped beneath the provocative, low-cut edge of the woman's V-neck dress.

She pulled away as if she'd been burned, and heat flared in her cheeks. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry!"

The woman gave a genuine laugh that made her blue eyes crinkle at the corners. “I wouldn't flaunt ‘em if I didn't want ‘em touched now, would I?” She winked, leaned forward a fraction and gave a naughty little wiggle that set her ample bosom to quivering.

Despite the shock still coursing through her system, Silvana found herself grinning back. “I don't think I'm your intended audience for those."

"True enough.” The woman straightened and held out her hand. Long, blood-red fingernails set off a polished manicure that Silvana could never pull off at the bakery. “Madam Periwinkle, at your service."

Silvana shook the offered hand and found herself liking the owner of the shop instantly. With her shock of shiny purple curls, crimson lips, and black eyelashes that were at least an inch long, she fit in perfectly with the eclectic décor. Her unique brand of in-your-face, unapologetic sexiness worked well with the shop's blatant eroticism.

Remembering Rafael's ghostly figure, Silvana turned toward his silhouette and found him wandering toward the back of the store. Judging by the way he drifted aimlessly, weaving in and out of shelves, she figured he couldn't see her, Madam Periwinkle, or the shop itself.

"What kind of place is this?” Silvana asked, shuffling closer to a massive glass cabinet that housed a variety of whips, floggers, and intriguing looking straps with large buckles attached at the ends.

"Exactly what it looks like. What's your pleasure, dear?” Madam Periwinkle made her way to an array of crotchless panties and held one up for Silvana's inspection. “You're a size twelve, right?"

Silvana nodded. “I'm really not interested in lingerie. I just need to hide out here for a little while, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't."

Silvana frowned, considering that comment. “And him? Why isn't he here?"

Madame Periwinkle's eyes narrowed as she glanced at Raphael's fading back. “Because you don't want him here."

"So you offer ... protection?"

Another silvery laugh floated through the air. With it, Silvana noticed the sweet smell of lilac and lavender, as though produced by Madame Periwinkle herself. “Hardly. I offer sexual satisfaction. And sometimes, a little more. I can't help myself, you see. Especially when there are other forces at work. Darker forces."

Silvana's pulse sped up. “Darker forces? Like Rafael?"

"Like those who command him."

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I don't understand. Who's doing this to me? To ... us?"

Madam Periwinkle waved her hand in the air, scattering another waft of fragrant scent toward Silvana. “I wish I could reveal everything to you, but as I said, I'm not in the protection business. Besides, I've run my mouth too much already.” She made a face. “There are agents on both sides who frown upon interference."

"So why are you helping me, then?"

The voluptuous shop owner seemed to float on the hardwood floor as she closed the distance between them. She reached out and cupped Silvana's face in her hands. Her penetrating blue eyes silently probed the depths of Silvana's soul. The sensation should have been frightening, but aside from a slight apprehension that still lingered from being so close to Rafael, Silvana didn't feel a thing.

Madame Periwinkle shook her head. “I shouldn't. Heaven knows it would be good for all Fairy Godmothers if I just minded my own business, but I can't seem to help myself. Mortals and their love lives intrigue me. You're all so ... fragile. So easily hurt, so vulnerable. And so susceptible to manipulation from all manner of beings who seek to possess you."

A frisson of genuine fear snaked up Silvana's spine. “I get the feeling we're not talking about mortals in general anymore. You mean I'm easy to manipulate, don't you? And that's what Rafael's trying to do.” She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “I'm letting him, aren't I? It's because I want him to do all those deliciously savage things to me that he can enter my dreams and mess with my life."

Madam Periwinkle pursed her red lips, intensifying the dramatic sculpt of her cheekbones in the process, and dropped her hands. Gentle concern shadowed her theatrical expression. “Be careful, all right? That's all I'm saying."

Frustration coiled in Silvana's gut. “How am I supposed to do that if you won't help me—"

"You need something that'll let you sleep without worrying about external influences, yes?"

Silvana sucked in a breath, startled. “Yes. Do you have something that might work?"

The broad smile returned to Madam Periwinkle's beautiful face. “I've got just the thing."

"I should tell you I've already tried over-the-counter medicine, warm milk, and every manner of relaxation music known to man."

Madam Periwinkle turned back toward the array of shelves and rose on the tips of her toes to reach the highest one. She searched the top shelf, and apparently not finding what she was looking for, made her way to the back of the store. “I know it's here somewhere."

Silvana watched the energetic shop owner dig through a variety of small boxes and drawers. After a couple of minutes, the woman smacked her forehead with an open palm, drifted toward the front of the store, and reached into the dark depths of a small cupboard Silvana hadn't even noticed until that very moment.

"Aha!” A victorious grin lit up Madame Periwinkle's face as she spun around to face Silvana. “I knew I still had it."

Silvana's jaw dropped open as she stared at the longest, thickest, most detailed dildo she'd ever seen. Only, it didn't appear to be made of plastic, rubber, silicone, or any other material used to create sex toys. If she didn't know better, she'd think it was pure...

"Chocolate,” she whispered.

Madam Periwinkle waved the dildo in the air like a magic wand before presenting it to Silvana on outstretched palms. “This will do the trick. Just remember, when it disappears, its powers do too. Oh, and if you're worried about hygiene or health concerns, don't be. This bad boy's inherent magic cleanses itself—and you."

Silvana reached out a tentative hand and brushed her fingertips along the sleekly-contoured head of the sculpted cock. She trailed them down farther, over the ridged veins to the space where a tight sac would normally be.

Her mouth watered. She could practically taste the flavor of rich, dark chocolate combined with the musky tang of male seed. “You're sure this will help?"

Madam Periwinkle nodded. The playful grin vanished. She straightened her spine, suddenly all business. “That'll be twenty-four ninety-nine. Would you like it gift wrapped?"

[Back to Table of Contents]

"Thanks for walking me home, Paul. You really didn't have to.” Silvana dug into her oversized purse. Her fingertips encountered the hard shell of a lipstick tube, some wadded tissues, and at least five pens, but no keys. She blew out a frustrated breath.

Paul Miller leaned in, forcing Silvana to take a step back. “Now what would your mama have said if I'd let you brave the city streets at night all by yourself, hmm?"

The sharp edge of the railing that fringed the top step of the three-floor walk-up pressed into Silvana's back. She looked up at her “date” with the most polite smile she could muster. “My mother and I both appreciate your concern, but I'm safe now.” She waited for him to take the hint. He didn't, so she added, “I'll tell her, you were a perfect gentleman."

He inched a little closer yet, exuding confidence and charisma. So close she could smell the slight hint of tobacco on his clothes, even though she hadn't seen him light a cigarette all night. “What if I don't want to be a perfect gentleman?"

Shit. She should have known the night wouldn't end well. The day had been a complete disaster. After her stop at Madam Periwinkle's Erotic Delights shop, she'd headed back to the apartment for some much-needed sleep, but ended up tossing and turning the afternoon away. She'd thought about using the chocolate dildo she'd bought from the eccentric shop owner, but she wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

Madam Periwinkle hadn't given her an instruction book. Was she supposed to eat it? Suck it like a lollipop until she reached the creamy center? Use it as a real dildo? String it on a rope and wave it in front of her eyes like she'd seen hypnotists do on TV?

Feeling infinitely foolish for buying the darn thing in the first place, she'd eventually set it on the nightstand. After four wasted hours, she knew one thing for certain—staring at the magnificent sculpted cock wasn't enough to help her sleep.

Paul reached up and slid his palm across the sensitive skin of her throat. “Come on, Silvana. Let me come upstairs."

She fought an instinctive flinch at the contact, but didn't push his hand away. Paul Miller had turned out to be ... different than she'd expected. Of all the “successful” dragons her mother had set her up with over the years, she had to admit Paul had the most potential as a long-term mate.

He stood a few inches taller than her, and she had to guess he was almost six feet. Blond hair, cut short at the back, hung in straight bangs over his forehead and fell into his blue eyes.
Cute. Very cute
.

He'd worn a tailored suit to dinner—probably because he'd headed to the McCurdy house straight from work—but rather than appearing stuffy, the effect made him look sexy in a James Bond kind of way.

Okay, so he was a little ... dull. He'd talked tedious facts and figures all night, charming the pants off her mother and even managing to impress her stoic father, but Silvana had spent the evening stifling yawns and trying hard not to fall face-first in her soup bowl. Or in her plate of spaghetti marinara. Or in her tiramisu.

She was grateful when dinner ended, figuring she could make a clean getaway. But before she'd even scraped her chair back from the table, Paul had offered to see her home. With her mother hovering nearby and beaming an overly-bright smile, she couldn't very well turn down his gallant gesture, so she'd allowed him to walk her the twelve blocks to her place.

Paul was attractive, wealthy, and parent-approved. She should have jumped him the moment she got him all to herself. Instead, all Silvana could think about was climbing up the three flights of stairs—alone—and collapsing into bed with her new chocolate dildo.

Pathetic, Sil. Really pathetic
. She licked her lips, preparing a formulaic response that would allow her to see him again, if she chose to. Something not too offensive, something cliché, like,
I've had a really long day. Maybe some other time
?

"Unless, of course, you're seeing someone."

Silvana swallowed past the lump of confusion in her throat. Seeing someone? Sure. In her deluded dreams. Did that count? She shook her head. “No. No one."

The smooth bridge of Paul's nose puckered in disbelief. “Gorgeous girl like you? I don't believe it."

A snort slid from her mouth before she could stop it. “You're kidding, right?"

"Okay, so you're not seeing anyone. Are you in love with someone?"

"In ... love?” Her heart did a flip-flop along with her belly. A moment later, her pussy clenched, following suit. “I'm ... haunted by someone. There. Does that make you happy?"

"A ghost doesn't put a ring on your finger. So what do you say, Sil? I want a good, hard fuck. You want...” He leaned in until his mouth hovered a fraction of an inch away from hers. “What do you want?"

This was her chance to push him away. This was—