DragonGames (5 page)

A mate changed everything. A mate couldn’t
be trusted to the care of another. A mate was a constant worry. True, there
were compensating pleasures, but freedom was far more valuable.

He forced amusement to take the place of
fierce possessiveness. He turned
mine
into visions of treasure, the
winnings that would accrue to him because of the bet initiated by Pierce.

Tielo found a true smile at Pierce’s
cleverness, his trickery at having so diabolically set this particular trap in
the hopes of not only gaining wealth, but witnessing his partner’s fall. He
chuckled.
Not happening
.

Tielo
allowed
himself to be drawn
forward. It would be the same with any beautiful human woman.

Why deny himself? Especially when this
particular woman had a natural affinity to silver-and-gold dragons. He was no
fledgling lacking control of wings, fire or cock!

Tielo’s smile widened. He’d let Pierce
hover on the knife-edge of victory then dispatch him to defeat.

Or so he told himself.

In proximity to Lyra, visions of sweet
victory, of gathering gems and gold coins in his arms faded. They were replaced
by heated imaginings of dark skin against his, of hands gliding over feminine
curves and mouth exploring, of tasting, drawing sounds of pleasure from her
even before she knew the ecstasy he could give her with his cock.

He found it impossible not to follow in her
wake. Aggravating to watch as one by one she invited his rivals to the poker
table.

He seethed each time one of them took her
hand. He burned and sent a glower in Pierce’s direction for allowing the
contact. There were rules in place! No touching allowed! Didn’t Pierce
understand that the treatment of this first potential mate would set the tone
going forward?

Pierce was surprised something hadn’t yet
gone up in flames. A table, a chair, Lyra’s clothing.

He steered her toward the sixth of his
invited guests and smiled inwardly as Tielo positioned himself in front of them
in a none-too-subtle maneuver to gain an introduction. No doubt his partner was
telling himself he cared only about witnessing the brilliance of his scheme
unfold.

Lyra would soon cause a fever of gambling,
not just at the center table where she would be ensconced, but at the tables
surrounding them. Avid interest in the unfolding events would swell the bets
and have the other dragons jostling for a reason to remain in the room, voyeurs
all, and males dreaming the next human female to enter the club might become
theirs.

“The men will each be limited to a stake
equal to the one hundred chips the house will advance you,” Pierce said,
stopping at Jubal’s table, now cleared of everything but three flutes of
Dragon’s Flame.

“Join me in a toast, to a most memorable
night,” the auburn-haired dragon said after being introduced and accepting
Lyra’s invitation to join her for a game of poker.

Lyra licked her lips, and not only at the
prospect of indulging in a much-needed drink in the hopes of cooling down. She
felt like fanning her face and loosening her dress.

She’d never felt so desirable, so beautiful
as she did around these men. She hadn’t needed to worry about choice of
outfits. A sack would have worked, though they’d probably have preferred
nothing at all.

Her womb fluttered and her cunt clenched at
imagining herself bared that way in public. On display. For the first time she
truly understood what her sister craved. Not that she was ready to try Summer’s
lifestyle, but…

To a one, the men made her feel like a
coveted treasure, a prize they intended to win. They made her feel utterly
feminine, and strong because of it, not weak.

Testosterone, they had it in spades. Any
one of them would be a woman’s dream lover, a fantasy made flesh and blood.

They scorched her with heated gazes and
masculine appreciation, but the burn in her belly, the coil of need and want,
it came from Tielo. She felt his eyes on her, could have sworn fierce objection
and the promise of sensual retribution burned across her skin each time one of
the others took her hand.

“For you,” Jubal murmured, bedroom-voiced
as he lifted a flute filled with amber-colored liquid and handed it to her. The
heavy, wide ring on his finger was a gold-and-silver dragon with sapphire eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a
flash and looked. Tielo’s glare made it easy to imagine he’d exhaled a burst of
flame. His expression smoothed so quickly she might have imagined it, except
for the wild fluttering in her chest and the way his body seemed to vibrate
with unspoken words, words meant only for her.

Maybe it was a dragon thing? And while the
others were openly stating their interest in claiming treasure—her—he intended
to use stealth to steal her heart, or at least a night in her bed.

She laughed silently, enjoying being caught
up in their fantasy game, though her face heated in awareness of how her
nipples were hard knots against the front of her dress. There was no hiding the
physical reaction.

She gave herself permission to bask in the
sensual for tonight. To forget about being a teacher who had to constantly be
aware of the possibility that students, parents, faculty or administration
might notice her behavior at any given time.

“To a memorable evening,” she said,
touching her glass to Pierce’s and Jubal’s before taking a deep swallow and
gasping softly. It was her only acknowledgment of the fiery heat flowing down
her throat as though she’d swallowed a dragon’s essence.

Forcing a breath through her nostrils, she
said, “This stuff packs a punch. What is it?”

“Dragon’s Flame,” Jubal said, approval in
his voice. “You handled it as one meant to be part of our world.”

“Thanks.”
I think
. She set the glass
down without finishing the explosive brew.

Jubal smiled. “You are wise to keep a clear
head given the fierceness of the play about to begin.”

She shivered, hearing sexual promise and
threat. Nervousness chased some of her confidence aside at suddenly wondering
how closely the line between reality and fantasy blurred for these men. What if
they believed the winner would be
entitled
to her?

“Shall we?” Pierce asked, once again
offering his arm.

She took it, and found comfort in the
contact even though it had become obvious that all the men he’d introduced her
to were gold-and-silver dragons. “How do you know Aislinn?” she asked.

“I met her through my wife, Storm. Aislinn
and Storm’s cousin, Sophie, are great friends.”

Surprise made Lyra tighten her arm on
Pierce’s. How many Storms could there be who had a cousin named Sophie? Weird
though, she could have sworn Mia had mentioned Storm was now married to a man
named Tristan, who happened to be a university professor.

“Storm O’Malley?”

“The same. How do you know her?”

“I live in the area she used to patrol. She
also came to the school for safety talks with the kids.”

“I’ll mention you to her when I get home
tonight. I’m sure she’ll be interested to hear how you faired at playing dragon
games.”

Lyra laughed at that description of an
evening at Drake’s Lair. It fit perfectly.

She relaxed further. It was hard not to
with him. Maybe that’s why he played the part of a fey, because he had an easy
charm, a natural glamour. She smiled at her own whimsy.

“What happens if I lose all of my chips?”

“You’re free to leave, though I hope you’ll
wish to remain at Drake’s Lair and enjoy our hospitality.” Green eyes sparkled
with infectious humor. “I’d tell you food and drinks are on the house, but it
would be an unnecessary reduction of profit. Based on the reactions you’ve
garnered so far, you’ll have plenty of offers of companionship.”

Tielo had moved again. Anticipation built as
their path took them toward him. Need intensified. Desire pooling thick and
heavy, as if all the men she’d been introduced to merely served to whet her
appetite for this one.

She was flushed and swollen, aware of each
step in a way she’d never experienced before. Her breath caught in her throat.
Her nipples ached, then ached more deeply when his gaze landed on them.

A soft moan of protest sounded when,
without warning, Pierce turned them, putting his body between hers and Tielo’s.
She’d swear she caught the flash of Pierce’s smile and heard Tielo growl.

Their destination was a gorgeous blond,
apparently a dragon of a different type. She’d have to ask what the colors
meant. This man had a green-and-gold dragon inked onto his forearm.

“Hakon,” Pierce said by way of greeting,
and she detected just the barest hint of deference in his voice, as if this man
was more important than the others.

But then, he must be, given the chalice he
held in his hand. He spun it idly, as if despite the intricate engraving and jeweled
rim, it was of no particular significance, though she’d noticed it earlier and
seen the way it was guarded by no less than three men.

Like Pierce, Hakon had emerald-green eyes
that danced with amusement. His smile was an invitation to mischief, but while
there was masculine appreciation in his gaze, it lacked heat, which she found a
relief instead of a challenge.

“I’d very much like to join your table,” he
said.

Pierce laughed. “Troublemaker.”

“What other advantage is there to being a
prince?” Hakon turned the full force of his charm on her. “Invite me?”

She found it impossible to say no. “Only if
you’ll tell me what the significance of the cup is.”

“Would you care to examine it more
closely?” He didn’t wait for her answer but handed her the chalice.

It was far heavier than it looked, and the
pictures engraved in it seemed to tell a story about dragons. Up close she was
very sure it wasn’t a plaything, but something old and valuable, something that
should probably be housed in a museum. And the guards served a real purpose
rather than simply acting a part for the evening.

“Mated pairs drink from it,” Hakon said. “A
fertility rite, you might call it.”

She pressed it back into his hand as if
they were playing a game of hot potato, heat suffusing her, the collision of
fantasy and biological imperative. These guys were potent. And it had been a
long time since she’d felt enough of an attraction to invite a man into her bed
at the end of a date.

“Hakon is your seventh choice,” Pierce
said. “With a slight adjustment to the rules to accommodate his unexpected
participation, you can invite two others if you desire. I’d suggest you
consider Odion.”

He turned her slightly, presenting a
swarthy dark-haired man, and startling her in the process. Rather than
migrating toward the back room where the poker tables must be, all of those
she’d already met were gathered, expressions alternating between glowering at
Hakon and sending fierce glances to the chalice in his hand.

“Would you care to join me for a game of
poker?” she asked Odion.

“Yes. You are the only reason I am here.”

Possessive eyes raked her, the intensity
too much, strong enough to sound little warning bells in her head. He was as
compelling sexually as the rest of them, but she suspected in real life, away
from the role-playing, she’d find him far more dominant than she’d be willing
to tolerate.

Tielo joined them and her heart welcomed
his presence with quickened beats. “I’ll be number nine.”

“Excellent,” Pierce said, laughter in his
voice, and Tielo only barely kept from blasting his partner with dragon fire.

By the Great Shared Ancestor! What was
Pierce thinking?

Hakon was bad enough. He was a playboy
prince, a male who came not only with a dragon of a mother, but was considered
a prize to be captured and hoarded by the females of their kind.

But Odion! He was surprised Odion could
still remember how to take a human form, he spent so little time in it! Any
mate he claimed would never be allowed out of his lair. He was not good enough
for Lyra, not worthy of her.

“This is Tielo,” Pierce said, “my—”

“Friend.” There was no point in her knowing
it was
his
grand scheme that had brought her here, or that he would add
to his hoard of treasure because of it. He took her hand in his, smothering all
scent on her skin but his own and only barely preventing himself from carrying
her hand to his chest and, from there, sliding it downward to free his raging
cock.

“Shall we start the game?” Pierce asked.

Tielo shot a fiery glance at the place
where Pierce’s body contacted hers. Pierce ignored the hint.

“I’m ready,” Lyra said, panic threatening
to take her. How was she going to calculate odds or concentrate with Tielo at
the table? And then true panic gripped her at entering the gaming area and
seeing that the men were using gold coins instead of chips, augmenting their
bets with loose gems and jewelry and antiquities.

She stopped, reality stripping away the
fantasy. This was so illegal, and though she had less, she had far more to
lose. “If there’s a raid tonight…”

“Should there be one, you’ll be whisked to
safety,” Pierce said. “I guarantee it.”

Every table was packed, but the sound of
gaming had gone silent except for the spin of a roulette wheel and a ball,
rolling, rolling, then finally dropping into a numbered slot like fate.

Chance
, she
mentally corrected herself.
Luck
. Nothing more. And certainly
not
fate.

If felt as if a hundred eyes were on her.

Make that two hundred.

She was glad to be firmly attached to
Pierce and Tielo.

The sea of masculine bodies parted to
reveal a roped-off table in the center of the room. Her nerves eased with a
laugh as she considered all the hours spent watching the
World Series of
Poker
and
World Poker Tour
on television. This was probably as close
to a final table as she’d ever get.