Crouching Tigress Horny Dragon (Fire Mates #3)
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Authors: Lexxie Couper
Tags: #General Fiction
Crouching Tigress, Horny Dragon
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H
e needed to get somewhere isolated. Somewhere safe and as far from humans as possible. Whatever was going on with Deanne, they needed to get it sorted out before—
If I bite the fucker, what will he—
Try it, babe
, he thought back.
Go on.
“Oh my God,” she shouted beneath him, her voice almost inaudible. “Will you stop listening to my thoughts, you scaly freak?”
Ryan screeched again, although this time it had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with laughter. A dragon’s chortle, complete with a lick of flames escaping from his nostrils.
He’d never heard such indignant irritation in a person’s voice before. She might be completely insane, but his Fire Mate sure had a feisty spirit.
He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. If nothing else, the next few centuries weren’t going to be boring.
“Put me down,” she yelled, writhing once again. A distant part of his mind detected faint pain in his foot, like something was trying to stab through the plated scales covering it.
He dipped his head to cast her a glance.
Sure enough, she was scratching at the claw circling just beneath her breasts like a crazy woman.
Ryan blasted a stream of hot air at her.
Stop that
, he instructed, letting his mental chuckle accompany the command.
“Bite me,” she snarled back, throwing him a glare as she dragged her nails harder over his toe.
Ryan sent another spear of hot air at her.
Her hair rippled around her face. She flashed her teeth at him, her eyes burning with what he could only describe as wild fury, her fingers digging at his scaled toes with increased fervor.
If this is some kind of kinky role-playing
, he thought, thumping his wings faster against the night sky,
I’m not into it
.
“Give me a whip and a knife and I’ll show you how kinky I can get,” she shot back, venomous anger thick in her voice.
Ryan threw back his head and laughed, the sound like a rumble of thunder.
Returning his attention to the world blurring far below them, he sought out an area of blackness. A park, a nature reserve…he needed anything remotely devoid of human occupation.
Fire Mates, Book 3
Lexxie Couper
Published 2016 by Book Boutiques.
ISBN: 978-1-944003-52-4
Copyright © 2016, Lexxie Couper.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.
Manufactured in the USA.
Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.
No way in hell Ryan Conley is ready to settle down. He's an Aussie dragon shifter having a great time exploring the USA, and the last thing he's looking for is love—or his Fire Mate. That is until he meets Deanna Roe, the one living soul destined to be his for all eternity. Nothing can prevent the mating fire claiming them… an intense and very carnal period of wild, not-to-be-denied sexual frenzy.
Deanna Roe is sexy, feisty, and gorgeous… and also adamant she's not a dragon. With a deranged hunter on her tail, the last thing she needs is Ryan's sexual advances and ridiculous claim she's his Fire Mate.
It's not easy being a dragon shifter in another country, horny as hell and madly in lust with a woman who refuses to admit she's a dragon. Oh, and now the deranged hunter is after them both!
Is Ryan is up for the challenge, or will everything he's ever known be shattered forever when he discovers the truth about his Fire Mate?
For me. ’Cause I wrote the thing when I didn’t believe I had it in me.
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design
“
S
o this is Chicago,” Ryan Conley murmured, letting his gaze slide over the dimly lit, crowded bar he’d found himself in.
All of the tables were occupied, mainly with couples in varying stages of “getting to know each other”, and the small square of polished parquetry that passed as a dance floor was packed with bodies writhing against each other to the sensual sounds of the jazz band to his left.
The perfect place for a traveling dragon shifter to chill for a few hours.
Lifting the bottle of Miller to his lips, Ryan took a sip. He’d been in the U.S. of A for three weeks now—in an attempt to escape the craziness caused by his brother, Tyson, back in Australia—and he had to admit, American beer wasn’t half bad.
He’d tried a different brand in each state, Blue Moon in Nevada, Shiner Bock in Texas, Sam Adams in New York and now, here in Chicago, Illinois, Millers. It didn’t have quite the kick a Tooheys Blue back home had, but it did the job. Cooled his throat, tempered his thirst, and gave him a nice little buzz if he had more than a few.
He wasn’t having more than a few tonight. Tonight he was going to find himself a nice warm, soft body to dance with, maybe play a little tonsil hockey, partake in a little mutual feeling-up, and then, after the band had packed up and the bar had closed, head back to his hotel room alone and take care of his needs with his hand.
For some reason over the last few days, he’d found himself in a state of perpetual semi-arousal. He’d considered letting any number of the willing women he’d met during his trip tend to the urge, but something about the rising heat in his body didn’t feel…controllable.
Better a quick wank alone than run the risk of turning into a walking, talking, groaning barbeque when he climaxed. One of the more inconvenient aspects of dragon-shifter sex: igniting in blue fire when a truly soul-shattering orgasm claimed you. Something like that was hard to deal with if the other participant of sexual congress wasn’t a dragon.
Also fairly fatal to them as well.
“Buy you a drink?”
A low female voice on his right caressed Ryan’s senses, slamming his heart up into his throat. The smell of honeyed sulfur filled his every breath. His body grew hot and motionless, a statue of molten steel wrapped in an inferno of prickling heat. And yet at the same time, he’d never been colder, like he’d been encased in a glacier of ancient ice.
What the fuck?
The urge to shift into his dragon form lashed at him. He resisted. Just. Another wave of heat razed his body, a blistering caress that seemed to flood his cock with rigid fire. Christ, he was in agony. An agony more pleasurable than any he’d experienced before.
Pain and fire and pleasure and ice…
Ryan’s chest squeezed tight.
“One drink?” the woman beside him said, a seductive laugh in her voice.
No, not the woman: the
dragon
.
The owner of the voice was a dragon shifter.
An inferno engulfed Ryan again, an exquisite onslaught of pain and pleasure.
It wasn’t just his heart beating fast and his body burning up. His dick was growing thick and hard in his jeans. The desire to fist his hand in the woman’s hair and take possession of her lips with a savage kiss surged through him in a tsunami of hot lust. The need to fuck her mouth with his tongue as he sought out the junction of her thighs with his—
Mating fire? Shit, are you experiencing the mating fire? Is the woman beside you your—
Ryan ground his teeth, killing the unsettling question. He needed to shut
this
down right now before it got out of hand.
He wasn’t in the market for his Fire Mate. No siree. There wasn’t a hope in freaking hell he was ready to be mated for life, regardless of whether it was fated destiny or not. Screw that. Or
not
screw that, as the case were.
Keeping his stare on his beer, he fought the hungry inferno demanding he turn to the woman and claim her as his. “Got one, thanks,” he pointed out, giving the Miller bottle a jiggle.
Just as he didn’t need to look at her to know she was a dragon, he didn’t need to look at her to know she’d slipped onto the bar stool beside him. He could feel every move she made in his very core. It was intense.
Ryan didn’t do intense. Ryan did flippant, laid-back, casual fun.
“You sure?”
His whole body reacted to her question. His dragon reacted to
her
, period.
That hungry fire licked through him, from his groin to his chest and up to the back of his throat, growing more insistent, more impatient. His scalp crawled, as if alive with a million fire ants. His balls throbbed.
That same need to crush her mouth with his, to own her pleasure and to burn up in it, rushed through him again.
He ground his teeth and shook his head. Damn it, he wasn’t going to succumb. He wasn’t. Casual bonking with a dragon was always wild fun, but something about the way his body and his dragon were reacting to the woman beside him screamed the complete opposite of
casual
.
And if it wasn’t casual, it was something far more significant, and Ryan wasn’t in the market for significant.
But if she
is
your Fire Mate…you’ve got no choice in the matter. You know that. If the woman beside you
is
your destined mate, the one you cannot ignore, reject, or deny, the second you make physical contact with her the clock starts ticking and you both need to consummate the relationship before things get—
“Dance then?”
A low growl rumbled deep in Ryan’s chest—his dragon making itself physically known—and he stiffened.
All
of him stiffened. Including his already semi-stiff dick. It stiffened all the way to an engorged pole straining against the imprisonment of his jeans.
Fuck.
He should have stayed in Australia. He should have stayed put and dealt with the fallout of Tyson being spotted in dragon form.
Fuck. Again.
“One dance,” the woman said, leaning toward him.
Her scent—delicate and heady at once—filled his breath and, incapable of stopping himself no matter how hard he tried (and he fucking tried so hard it hurt), Ryan turned to face her.
The second his eyes connected with hers, the potent need to shift, to fuck, to mate, blasted through him. His heart quickened. His lungs turned hot, seared by the very breath inside them. His head roared with a cyclone of raw lust.
She studied him, still, expression unreadable. Her silver-blue eyes held his. If she was burning up in the mating fire like he was, she didn’t show it.
How could she not be overwhelmed by it? How could she—
“One dance?” she repeated, an accent not quite American, not quite anything else, giving the question a sultry lilt.
Ryan’s body reacted some more. At this rate, he’d shift inside the bar and claim her there and then.
Probably not the best thing to happen, given how packed the bar was. That and the fact the majority of the world still existed in a state of ignorance when it came to dragon shifters.
He couldn’t keep the moral high ground with his brother about exposure if he shifted here, now could he?
Maybe if he ignored her, she’d just go away and the mating fire would be guttered and he could just go back to drinking his Miller?
Drawing a deep breath, the woman’s intoxicating scent tickling what little control he had over his fevered dragon and hungry libido, he shook his head. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
A soft chuckle slipped past her exquisite lips. “Actually, I think a dance is a very good idea.”
Despite his best efforts to return his attention to his beer, he ran a slow gaze over her.
She sat perched on the stool with artful sensuality, her long, sublimely toned legs exposed by an emerald-green leather mini-skirt, her equally sublimely toned belly bare thanks to the snug black crop tank that hugged her small breasts like a second skin. Her hair—a thick dark brown bob—brushed her dark straight eyebrows and jaw, as she smiled. Her lips were blood red and full and made him hunger to kiss her. Apart from the smattering of freckles on her upturned nose, her skin was creamy pale and exquisite.
“Nice ink,” he commented, trying to sound as calm and relaxed as she appeared as he took in the tiger preparing to pounce tattooed above her right hip.
“Thanks,” she said, trailing her fingertips over the tiger’s spine.
A shudder of ravenous need rocked Ryan. He bit back a growl, the urge to shift becoming almost impossible to deny. Staring into her eyes once more, he let out a ragged breath. “Think you should go now,” he suggested through gritted teeth.