Dragon Romance: Dragon Fire (Paranormal Shapeshifter Hero Protector Firefighter Romance) (Fantasy Shifter Werewolf BBW Pregnancy Women’s Fiction Short Stories) (78 page)

Again, he pauses. I wish he’d get to the point.

Then he says, “The President of the United States is making a visit to Victoria (the largest city on Vancouver Island) this afternoon. In addition, that part of Victoria is home to the Israeli consulate, our consulate and the British Consulate. The President will travel down Commonwealth Avenue at one thirty this afternoon. That’s when the enemy will strike. Your mission is to stop them before they do.”

We locate a likely hiding place for the bomb. There’s an empty, abandoned warehouse twenty yards away from Commonwealth Avenue. We’re going to establish a listening post and a possible sniper position in a warehouse across the street from the suspect warehouse. Honoria handles communications and comes along since we think it’s a safe building.

The trip down the length of Vancouver Island went much better than any other time we’d been in the car together. We talked. Actually, Honoria talked and I listened. We find the right building in Victoria and knock on the front door. The watchman who keeps the building secure meets us at the front door. We don’t tell him we’re SEALs. It’s confusing to people. We just tell him we we’re with the President’s security detail and need to make sure the building is empty and secure.

The watchman, Luther Daniels, couldn’t have been more than one hundred and fifteen pounds with rocks in his pocket and carrying an anvil. He smiles up at us and looks proud to be able to help the President of the United States.

He leads us inside and up the stairs to the walkways above the warehouse floor. The warehouse should be empty. But it isn’t.

Below us something about thirty feet long and eight feet wide sits on the concrete floor with four men standing around it.

We get lucky. By chance, we’d been quiet as we came up the stairs. The men don’t notice us.

Ten seconds later, they do.

They don’t call out or ask us what we were doing there. They just open up with AK47s.

We fall down to the concrete floor. Luther beats me to what I consider my job. I want to crawl over and protect Honoria. He’s already there. Her position is, unfortunately, near the edge of the walkway. He can’t protect her without putting some of his body in the line of fire. He curls his slight body around her chest and head. I see him take three rounds in the side and arm before I have my pistol out and begin firing back.

I can hear Honoria talking to our comm center.

The little man never retreats, never backs off. He doesn’t make a sound.

When I start firing, the terrorists shift to me. I bob and weave around the walkway, moving farther and farther away from Honoria and Luther. I see two of them peel away from their friends and run in opposite directions. They’re headed toward the stairs on opposite sides of the building. In a few seconds, we’ll have fire coming from both ends of the walkway.

I know I can’t hit anything on the other end of the walkway. It’s more than two hundred feet away. I need a longer gun, like an AK47. I know where I can get one.

I streak toward the stairs, staying low. I hear several bullets whiz past me. When you’re on the receiving end of enemy fire, the bullets sound just like angry bees.

I jump down the stairs, taking five treads at a time and hoping our luck would stay good.

The last time I jump, the terrorist I’d seen running for our stairway charges up the stairs right into my upraised feet coming down. I wear shoes with steel inserts in the sole and toe. He gets both of them right in the chest. I follow him down and hit him once to make sure he’s out of the fight, grab his rifle and head back up the stairs.

If I could give medals to civilians, I’d give the biggest one I have to Luther Daniels. When the other terrorist comes up the stairs and onto the walk way, Luther shifts his body around to protect Honoria from the new threat.

I put the AK47 on full auto and empty the magazine at the man on the other end of the walkway. He crumples.

I look over the edge, down at the warehouse floor. The last two terrorists are running like frightened deer out the exits.

I run to Honoria and Luther. I hear Honoria tell comm that we need an ambulance at our location and that we’d recovered the bomb.

I haven’t told you the bravest thing I hear that day. We bend over Luther. I count five holes in his upper body. He’s bleeding from every one of them. He reaches out and takes Honoria’s hand. He asks, “Are you alright? Did they hit you?” She holds his hand until the paramedics take him away.

The operation to save him isn’t easy or short, but it works. He’d taken seven rounds in total; none life threatening. We visit him in the hospital, and I see a new side to Honoria. We stand beside Luther’s bedside, and he smiles at us. Before I can say anything, Honoria bends over him and kisses his face. She put her soft hand on his cheek and whispers her thanks in his ear.

He blushes. What a man!

Back at base, we sit on our couch and drink hot chocolate. Not booze. Our bears don’t like it.

I say, “I’m glad you made it personal with Luther. I could tell it meant something to him.”

She sniffs a little and dabs her nose with a tissue. “What a wonderful little man. I tried to push him away so he could get some cover, but he wouldn’t go. He kept telling me that I was more important than he was.”

We’re safe. No one’s shooting at us. She has the chance to let down. She bawls like a little girl whose doll had been broken. I hold her very close and let her get it all out.

She sits up. “My dad was completely wrong. He would have dismissed Luther as useless. I would too. No longer. I will never judge a man by the size of his body ever again.”

The final part of the story comes a few days later. We have a few hours off and watch some cartoons on television.

We’re sitting on the sofa and sharing our laughter. I love the Road Runner and Coyote cartoons. They’re so intricate.

I’m on the end of the sofa and Honoria is laying across my lap, more or less on her back.

I notice that her blouse isn’t buttoned all the way up. I slowly spread it open. She still looks at the screen, but she turns to let me get to her more easily. She has a contented smile. I like it.

I slide my hand inside her bra and hold her entire breast. It’s warm and soft. She sighs.

It’s nice. I caress her legs under her skirt. It’s a bit tight so she has to hike it up to her waist. I look down. “Why do your panties say ‘Hello there, sailor, been in town long?’”

She giggles. That’s a sound I never thought I’d associate with Honoria Winchester. She has a nice giggle.

“I’ve got a number of them. I wanted to surprise you with a little joke when you got around to getting your hand under my skirt. Do you like them?”

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t been able to have the entire panty experience yet.”

She nods. “I see your point. You don’t want to make a judgment without all the facts.”

She closes her eyes and uses two fingers on both hands to hold her panties open. I let my hand glide along her soft, smooth tummy. I dawdle, caressing her skin from one hip bone to the other as I gradually edge toward my goal.

She bites her lip while she waits and makes little grunting sounds. When I finally edged my fingers between her legs, she stops grunting and holds her breath.

We leave the TV on and laugh at the characters until we don’t hear them any more.

THE END

Bonus Story 18 of 20

Dayton

My alarm went off an hour before dawn, like it always did and I readied myself for another day on the ranch. Things had been great for the past few years and my business of raising cattle had been thriving. The ranch started with my parents of course, they just wanted a wide open space to raise a few chickens in the old south. When I got old enough; my father gave me the land he owned and I wanted to build a farm or something along those lines; I decided to get into cattle ranching, because of my childhood love of bull riding.

I sipped my coffee while I walked over to the stables so I could get ready to go check on the herd. There were always a few stragglers who seemed to migrate away overnight, and sometimes the dogs couldn’t round them up on their own.

“Yo Dayton! We got a doozy on our hands, hundreds from the whole damn herd migrated over to the neighboring farm. Someone left the gate open last night,” my brother yelled as he ran into the stables to get his horse ready. I cursed and went over to Ebony, my trusted black quarter horse; she was already alert and eager to go.

“You excited to herd some cattle ain’t ya girl?” I patted her long neck and she huffed impatiently. She knew there was something up and wanted in on the fun. I got her saddled up and ready to go, then soon my brother and I were headed out to the pasture fields. One of the neighbor’s kids must have been playing on the gate that separated our land and left it open the night before.

A few more guys joined us on their horses and the dogs were set free to follow us as we cleaned up the neighbor’s rye field of cows. I was gonna have hell to pay if those cows ate up all my neighbor’s rye. The fields were like oceans of tan colored grain. The plants swayed with the wind and revealed cow after cow hiding in the tall crops.

“Lets round ‘em up boys!” I said.

I got the guys in gear and we went around herding all the cows together and directing them back to the gates that were opened wide. Once we had all of them back on our side I went to find my neighbor Joe at his house. I tied Ebony up by the gate surrounding their house and went on over to the porch.

“Dayton Fields! I see you guys rounded up all them cows finally. I thought they was gonna eat up all my rye!” John came out to the porch. He was a short portly guy who was born and raised on his rye farm.

“There wasn’t too much damage John, but I am sorry they got out, you know cows can be tricky sometimes,” John waved off my apology.

“Naw, my kids can be tricky that’s what. Those hooligans thought it’d be funny to let out your cows. They ain’t got no sense,” I laughed. I saw how that would have been a funny joke for a teenager.

“Well, we got ‘em rounded up. Your kids livened what would have been a dull morning that’s for sure,” I chuckled. John and I exchanged a few more pleasantries before I headed back to my ranch with Ebony. The day went on normally after that, since it was summer we were doing our daily health checks on the cows. We had about two thousand head and checking each one was a chore in itself. It was good fulfilling work though, and I loved working with the animals. My entire crew did.

My brother, Ben, called me over from leading a cow back to the rest of the herd. “Hey Dayton! Come and take a look at this!” I made sure the cow got back to the rest of them and then jogged over to the building where a couple of guys were standing around the old TV we had near some of the milling equipment.

“Since when do y’all watch the news?” I scoffed, as I walked in and focused on what the gossip reel was saying.

“This just came out this morning, a list of America’s most successful and wealthiest cowboys, number three being Georgia’s own Dayton Fields, of Fields Ranch in Burke County. In
my
opinion I’d say he’s the sexiest cowboy in the lot…” The gossip lady kept rambling on, and I rolled my eyes as the guys started hooting and hollering. They would never let me live that down, I just knew it.

“Ain’t y’all supposed to be working? I mean what am I paying you for anyway?” I shooed them all away and we got back to work. The last thing I needed was a bunch of women lined up at my door. My mother would have a field day though; she’s been begging for grandchildren from either of her boys for years already.

“Hey it isn’t all that bad, brother,” said Ben. “It means you won’t have such a bad time meeting chicks.” Ben waggled his eyebrows at me and I shoved his shoulder. “Hey you know I could capitalize on this also. People say we look exactly alike so the girls wouldn’t know the difference. My last name is Fields too,” Ben grinned from ear to ear and I couldn’t help but laugh.

My brother and I were a year apart in age and we really did look exactly alike. We both were six-four, had the same muscular builds from working on the farm ever since we were able to carry a bale of hay. It was almost eerie sometimes, but we had the same green eyes and curly, sandy blonde hair. We looked almost exactly like our father when it came to our strong jaws and intense brows.

“You can capitalize on it all you want, but in the meantime let’s focus on the farm,” I bumped his shoulder again. Ben grinned and went to go help move a few bales of hay that had been cut. I went to go and help do the health checks and wondered if it really was time to settle down with a woman.

*****

Ronnie

As I pulled up to the Fields farm I wondered what the third wealthiest cowboy in the south was like. I had to do a profile on him, a feature in the local paper, and I had to admit I was a little nervous to meet him. I’ve seen pictures and he was
hot
like James Dean hot only with curly hair and green eyes. I had initially drove to his parents’ house and his mother had directed me back to the stables. She was a kind woman with soft blue eyes and an endearing smile. She got a kick out of her son being named an eligible bachelor on TV.

There were a few huge buildings and a lot of land. I didn’t know which was which or where I would find Dayton Fields.

“Excuse me ma’am? Are you lookin’ for someone?” I turned around and stared right up into the clear green eyes of Dayton Fields. He had the most charming old Georgian accent. He was wearing a tan cowboy hat and his curls peeked underneath it and framed his face beautifully. His green flannel work shirt brought out his eyes and the work jeans he wore fit him perfectly. He looked every inch the cowboy and I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts.

“Yeah…Dayton Fields, I’m Rhonda Stanton, here from The Sentinel…for an interview?” Dayton smiled and he removed his hat to incline his head in greeting. Just like a southern gentleman.

“Well you found him, I knew the Sentinel was sending someone over for an interview from their call last night, but I hadn’t been expecting you…” His smile was a little arrogant, though maybe he was trying to go for charming, I wasn’t sure. What did he mean by, he hadn’t been expecting me?

“Um…okay then, do you have time now for the interview now?” I asked politely. Dayton nodded and he gestured me over to the horse stables where we sat on a bench outside. I took out the recorder from my bag and and also a notepad and pen to make note of anything he would get particularly interested in talking about.

“Go ahead and ask me anything, I’m an open book,” Dayton grinned at me boyishly and I smiled. He was definitely a charmer, I took note of that on a fresh sheet of paper.

“So can we start with you telling me about a normal day on the ranch for you, or a normal day in general? Hobbies included.”

He ran his hands through his hair a bit nervously.

“Well, any day on the ranch is slightly different from the last. You can never know if all the cows are in the pasture and if you might have to round up a few explorers. For instance, yesterday nearly three hundred of our cows got into the neighboring rye farm. We had a blast rounding them up, but it set us back half a day in health checks. Right now we’re combing through all two thousand cows to make sure they are in peak conditions,” Dayton wet his lips and then squinted against the sun in his eyes.

“So on a normal day we either round up cattle, check them for any health issues if need be, we do pasture maintenance, cut hay and in the winter the cows begin to calve so we have to take care of them and the mothers,” Dayton’s responsibilities were impressive that was for sure, but he was almost bragging about all his duties. I definitely didn’t like his tone.

“So what do you do as a pastime? You must have idle time on the weekends,” I prompted him, and he nodded again.

“I bull ride in my free time. The rodeo is a crazy adrenaline rush and there’s nothing like the feeling you get when you’re trying to hold on to a bucking bull for dear life…or running from one. I’d say I dance with death every weekend,” Dayton grinned and reclined back against the wall with both hands folded casually behind his head. The pose came across as way too confident for my taste and I wondered if he was usually this arrogant or what.

The rest of the interview was painful for me, as with every question he acted either entitled or like a know-it-all. It was a shame he couldn’t be handsome
and
humble. Maybe it was being named the third wealthiest cowboy that blew his head up out of proportion or something.

“Well those are all the questions Mr. Fields, thank you for your time,” I stood and offered my hand for him to shake in parting.

“So that’s it then?” Dayton looked like he wanted to ask me something more, but I was eager to just go write his feature then be done with him.

“Yep, that’s…all I needed,” I said. I smiled politely and started to backtrack towards where I parked.

“Well uh…okay then. I look forward to reading the feature in the paper tomorrow,” Dayton smiled a real smile, not that cocky grin, and it looked nice on him. I waved and then beat a quick retreat to my car. I wondered how I’d write the feature. I resolved to let a few other reporters in the office listen to the recording and ask if I should let Dayton’s tone of entitlement leak through the words.

When I got back to the Sentinel and let a few co-workers hear the interview they all laughed.

“The guy said, ‘I dance with death every weekend and I win’. That’s classic, you have to put that quote in the piece Ronnie, you
have
to,” I didn’t even realize when Dayton actually said it that he added that last bit in. He’d said it under his breath, but the recording caught it. My co-worker Danny was chortling with laughter as he begged me to put that line in the feature. I chuckled and went to write about Georgia’s own most eligible cowboy.

*****

Dayton

The following day after Rhonda Stanton came to interview me I made sure to pick up the Sentinel. As I read through it with Ben I couldn’t have been more embarrassed.

“Dude, did you really say that you dance with death and you win? Oh I am so not related to you. How arrogant could you possibly sound?” Ben let me have it for completely blowing the interview. Apparently my looking like an ass would affect his getting women by association.

I couldn’t be mad at Rhonda though, she was only doing her job and wrote about me exactly as how I came off. I
was
trying to show off a little bit for her benefit; she was gorgeous and sexy and I wanted her the moment I saw her wandering around the ranch. She was wearing those skinny jeans that hugged her curves and showed off her perfect backside. She looked every bit the reporter though. She wore black Clark Kent glasses and had a white blouse on that completed her look. She had the perfect body and hourglass shape then when she turned around I was blown away. Her chocolate-colored skin was flawless and her face was the perfect heart shape. She had big brown eyes and curly black hair pulled into a ponytail. It was all natural too; I stared long enough to make sure. She even had a dimple in each cheek and the most incredible smile.

I was an idiot trying to impress her, and I really couldn’t blame her for what she wrote. What I needed was to get in touch with her and ask her out. Reassure her that I wasn’t some arrogant asshole. I decided to call the Sentinel. Within an hour I had her work line and as I paced around my parents’ kitchen I waited for her to answer. I glanced at the time. It was midday. I hoped she wasn’t away at lunch.

“This is Ronnie Stanton; how can I help you?” Rhonda’s breathy voice came across the line and I smiled, so she went by Ronnie.

“Hello Ronnie, this is Dayton Fields.”

There was a pause from the other line and she asked what she could do for me. “I assure you I’m not calling to complain about the piece Ronnie, I’m actually hoping I could explain myself. See I realize now that I came off in completely the wrong way yesterday…and it was only because I was trying to—well I was trying to impress you,” I waited for her response and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“I’m a little taken aback. You were trying to impress
me
the entire time?” She sounded like she was skeptical.

“I was, and I did a bad job of it obviously. I was hoping I could take you out for dinner tonight, if you’re not busy?” It was a Friday night so she probably did have plans. I hoped like hell that she didn’t though.

“Um sure…yeah I don’t have any plans I guess.”

I smiled practically ear to ear. We made arrangements for me to come and pick her up at her house around seven thirty, and then ended the call. I couldn’t help but get through the rest of my day with a stupid grin on my face. I made sure to show up a few minutes early for our date, and when I pulled up to Ronnie’s house I was surprised that it was so impressive.