Mated To The Dragon Of Manhattan (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Mated To The Dragon Of Manhattan (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1)
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Seeming as if he might have been just waiting for this request, he immediately released my wrists, gripped my hips with one hand, and guided the head of his shaft to my feminine entrance with the other. Bracing my hands on the wall, I jutted my rear out a little further, panting. He slid into me with a groan, filling me so completely and totally that I gasped, the sound tapering off into a deep sigh of pleasure.

 

After pausing for a few moments, allowing me to get used to the size of him, I presumed, he gripped my hips and began thrusting in and out of my slickness with deep, hard strokes, grunting. I knew I wasn't going to last long, and I didn't. After maybe only a few minutes, Truman suddenly increased his pace, growling, and I felt myself fall over the edge. My climax crashed over me in wave after wave of intense pleasure and release, and I pressed my forehead into the wall while moving my hips back to meet Truman's every thrust. The sound coming out of my mouth was something between a strangled cry and a moan. Truman's pleasure also peaked around the same time as mine, and when we were both completely spent, he turned me to face him and took me in his arms.

 

"You beautiful, gorgeous creature. You're so beautiful...you don't even have a clue how much so."

 

I rested my face against his hard chest, just trying to catch my breath, while he planted kisses all over the top of my head and forehead.

 

We made love twice more that evening, and each time, Truman drove me to heights of pleasure I'd never even dreamed were imaginable. Dragon shifters seemed to possess remarkable sexual potency and stamina. Or, at least, Truman sure did.

 

It was well past midnight by the time we finally rested in an embrace, both of us seeming to be drifting off to sleep after having enjoyed a long shower together.

 

While smoothing my hair with one of his large, strong hands, Truman whispered near my ear. "I came here tonight to tell you that I think I'm falling in love with you. But now, I can officially say that I've
fallen
, past tense. And fallen, head over heels. "

 

I smiled in the dark, snuggling even closer to him. "I'm glad to hear that. Because I can say the exact same thing. I've fallen head over heels for you, too. I can also say that I'm feeling a lot less crabby than when you first came over."

 

He chuckled and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Oh, same here. Trust me on this."

 

We soon fell asleep, and I enjoyed more rest that night than I had in the previous couple of days combined.

 

But when I awoke around eight in the morning, Truman wasn't in bed beside me. I threw on some clothes and headed out to the kitchen to see if he was maybe just having breakfast, but he wasn't. I'd just gone out to look for him in the living room when he came striding into the apartment, raking a hand through his thick, dark hair.

 

"We need to talk. And right away."

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

Truman sat me down on the plush, sun-dappled living room sofa and took my hands, frowning. "I'll cut right to the chase. I've met with my scientist, Dr. Townsend, this morning, and I have both good and bad news. The good news is that he's finished doing his calculations and has concluded that you most certainly entered this parallel by complete accident, through a freak one-in-a-trillion billion random chance occurrence caused by a 'tear' in the parallel that was unknowingly created by Owen's own slip through the parallel. So, it's official. You did not travel through the parallel intentionally, as a spy might have done. Which, of course, I already knew, though now I can formally clear you in good conscience, knowing that I did my due diligence as leader to ensure the safety of my people."

 

"So, I'm officially
not
a prisoner anymore?"

 

"No. And I apologize for having to hold you as a prisoner before. Though I hope you understand why I felt the need to do so."

 

I nodded. I did, and I had. Being held prisoner had just made me feel trapped, and as a result, angry.

 

Truman continued. "Good. And now, as much as I hate to deliver it, the bad news, and it concerns you returning back through the parallel to your
own
New York City." He lowered his voice just a fraction, a flicker of pain seeming to cross his handsome features. "Or not."

 

Somewhat surprised at myself, I suddenly realized that returning home, and if and how I'd be able to do it, hadn't even crossed my mind even once since he'd told me about the parallels. It honestly just hadn't.

 

He continued, the tiniest flickers of pain seeming to cross his face every so often. "At the same time he was doing his calculations to determine how you were able to slip through the parallel in the first place, Dr. Townsend also did some calculations to see if you could return, through the same 'tear' in the parallel that you used to cross over, though unintentionally.”

 

"And what did he say?"

 

"Well, he says it's possible. And maybe even probable that you could. However, you must return through the 'tear' that Owen created, and it's closing quickly. Dr. Townsend figures it might remain open for two, three weeks at the very most. And after that...your chance will be gone. Forever."

 

"And if I do return to
my
New York, there would be no chance of me ever coming back to
this
parallel? Like, if I wanted to spend time in both worlds for a while or something?"

Truman shook his head, frowning, his gray eyes clearly filled with pain. "No. There would be no chance. Not even the slimmest. The chances of you passing through this parallel in the first place were about one in an infinite number, according to Dr. Townsend."

 

Sure that I was frowning myself, I looked across the spacious living room at the clear blue sky above the balcony. The sunny weather was decidedly not mirroring my current mood.

 

After a long moment, I turned back to Truman. "And there's no way you could ever come over to
my
parallel? Maybe with Dr. Townsend's help? Like, maybe for some very extended visits?"

 

Truman made a noise between a chuckle and a sigh. "A long-distance relationship between parallel worlds. That would take the cake for all long-distance relationships since the history of time, I'm sure. But to answer your question, unfortunately, no. Thus far, Owen is the only one of us shifters able to cross parallels, and even he can only do it with extreme difficulty and great unpredictability. And the fact that he's been the only one yet able to do it isn't for lack of the rest of us shifters trying. We've all tried, numerous, numerous times. I've probably tried more than anyone, as I'd love a chance to do a bit of surveillance on the shifters in
your
parallel. But...I've never been successful. It seems that Owen's supernatural gifts on top of him being a shifter might have a lot to do with the fact that he's the only one of us who
has
been successful."

 

We both fell silent briefly, and Truman took my hands, looking more than a little miserable. And when he spoke again, his rich, deep voice was quiet.

 

"Obviously, you have a choice to make. And I'd be lying if I said I'm not hoping for much, much more time with you here. Even in the very short amount of time we've spent together, I've fallen for you, Brette. And incredibly hard. I'm quite sure my heart will be broken if you return to your own parallel. However, it would be extremely selfish of me to try to influence your decision, considering what a monumental, life-altering one it is. And also considering what a permanent, absolutely irreversible one it is. And so, I can only ask that you take some time to think things through, and make the decision that you feel is best for you, whatever that may be. I want you to do what you think will make you happiest in the long-term."

 

He suddenly sighed and kissed each of my hands in turn. "I'll leave you alone now to think. Though you by no means have to decide anything today. You still have a couple of weeks." He kissed my hands again before kissing me on the mouth, letting his lips linger. "I've deactivated the keypad lock on the door, and I'll have someone come by soon to install a regular lock on the inside so you can come and go as you please. I'll be back later. And maybe we can have that dinner I've been hoping for."

 

            And with that, after one final kiss, again on my mouth, he released my hands, got up from the couch, and strode out of the apartment.

 

With my mind reeling, I continued sitting on the couch. As far as life-altering, important decisions went, I knew the one I'd have to make would just about be the mother of them all. But my talk with Truman had left my brain so jumbled I felt like I could barely even organize my thoughts and do any clear thinking.

 

I was still sitting on the couch several minutes later when a knock sounded on the door. I got up and looked through the peephole, seeing that it was Brianna. I opened the door and ushered her inside, still feeling in a bit of a daze.

 

She was carrying two foam cups with lids and held them up to me, smiling. "Vanilla lattes from the coffee shop on the tenth floor. Believe me, they are the best; you've gotta try one. Though, if I'm being completely honest, getting you to try one isn't the only reason I came up here. See, somehow Owen became aware that Truman wasn't at his penthouse last night, and he told me that, and so I put two and two together, and then I saw Truman going down in the elevator earlier this morning, so...I thought I'd come up here to try to get the scoop about what may or may not have happened between you two last night." She began giggling, but then stopped suddenly, peering at my face. "Hey, you look a little pale. Are you all right?"

 

I sighed, shaking my head. "No. I'm really not. I have a very important decision to make. And not a lot of time to decide."

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

The side of my head hit the wall with a thunk, and I sank to the floor, dazed.

 

Brianna, who'd been just a few paces ahead of me, carrying our vanilla lattes into the kitchen, turned, saw me on the floor, and gasped, eyes wide. "Oh my God! Brette, are you okay?”

 

I nodded, rubbing the side of my head. "Yeah. Just
knocked
my head on the wall. Just a little bump."

 

She knelt beside me, her expression a mask of concern. "Well, what happened?"

 

I sighed. "Sometimes when I get really anxious about something, I get really dizzy. I've always been this way, even as a little kid. And I hardly ever full-out faint, I just get super, super dizzy. It's like a mini panic attack or something. And after what Truman told me just a few minutes before you got here...well, I guess my brain decided to hit me with a real good one. I got so dizzy for a second I just kind of staggered and bumped my head on the wall. I'm fine now, though. Probably just need to go have a seat in the kitchen and enjoy one of those lattes you brought."

 

Brianna scoffed, setting the lattes on the marble floor. "Oh, no way. No freakin' way. The only place you're going is down to the health clinic on the sixtieth floor to have the doctor take a look at your head." She pulled her cell phone from her pocket. "But first, I'm going to call Truman and tell him what happened."

 

"No, please don't! He'll probably just get all worried and concerned and make a big fuss."

 

"Well, you just knocked your head against the wall and might have a concussion. I think he'd be right to make a little fuss."

 

"No. No, he wouldn't. It's really not that big of a deal. And besides, he and I have way bigger things to think about right now. Way bigger things. And I don't want him troubled
with
a phone call just to tell him that I've sustained a teeny, tiny little bump. Not to mention, he'll probably think I'm some sort of total cream puff who can't handle a bit of stressful news, like the news he just told me. And I don't want him to think of me that way, because that's how every man
,
every person in my entire life has always seen me. As some sort of weak, little cream puff who can't be strong and brave in the face of stressful news or a difficult choice."

 

Brianna dialed and put the phone to her ear. "Sorry, Brette. No matter what's going on between you and Truman right now, I have to tell him. I heard what a loud thunk your head made against the wall. You could have a serious concussion or some other kind of head injury. And Truman should know."

 

"Brianna, please don't. I'm begging you. He'll just-"

 

"Hi, Truman. Brette's okay, but she just had a little fall, and she took a pretty good knock to the head. I'm taking her down to the doctor's right now."

 

I cringed, sighing.

 

"Okay. We'll see you there." Brianna ended the call and pocketed her phone. "He's on his way, coming up from the first floor. Now, let me help you up. Do you think you can walk?"

 

I sighed again, rolling my eyes. "I may have taken a very small, tiny bump to the head, but it didn't render me disabled."

 

Ignoring me, she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and helped me to my feet. "Just nice and slow, now."

 

She continued to keep her arm around my shoulders during our walk out of the apartment and down to the elevator, despite my protests

 

"I am really, really, truly fine."

 

Soon I found myself sitting on an examination table in a room within a large medical clinic on the sixtieth floor. Brianna's doctor, Dr. Wilson, a tall woman with long gray hair twisted into a bun, examined my head, tested my reflexes, and then looked into my eyes with a light while Brianna sat nearby.

 

After several moments spent peering into each of my eyes, Dr. Wilson clicked her light off and put it in the front pocket of her white lab jacket. "Well, your pupils are perfectly normal. You don't have any concussion or head injury. However...." She felt around on the side of my head again. "I'm sure this tiny little bump just beyond your temple is going to turn into a bruise. I'm going to recommend that you apply an ice pack to the bump at least twice today to reduce the severity."

 

The exam room door was open just a crack, and just then, I heard Truman's deep, masculine voice coming from somewhere nearby.

 

"Is she okay? Where is she?" Not even a second later, he flung open the exam room door, his expression frantic. "Brette." He strode over to me, took my face in his hands, and planted a kiss on my forehead before turning to Dr. Wilson. "Is she going to be all right?"

 

Dr. Wilson nodded. "Completely fine, Lord Truman. She just has a very small bump that I'd like ice applied to at least twice today. She also may need to take an aspirin or two if she develops a headache. But that's the worst-case scenario. She's completely fine."

 

"Thank God." Truman planted another kiss on my forehead. "Thank God."

I made the very quietest of sighs. "I appreciate the concern, but I wasn't in a car accident or anything, I just-"

 

"Don't even try to speak, sweetheart. Just rest. Just save your energy."

I sighed yet again, though this time loudly and with a very dramatic eye roll, which I just couldn't help.

 

While Dr. Wilson gave me a more thorough examination, rechecking my eyes, listening to my heartbeat, taking my pulse, and so on, Truman and Brianna waited out in the hallway, and I just knew Brianna was telling him everything I'd told her about me getting little dizzy spells when anxious and stressed.

 

They both fussed over me the entire time during the elevator ride back up to the seventy-sixth floor, and also during the walk back down the hallway to my apartment. And when we entered the apartment and Truman immediately began insisting that I get into bed to rest, I'd finally had it.

 

"Okay, the both of you, this is completely and totally enough. No more. Dr. Wilson has declared me perfectly fine and healthy, I
feel
perfectly fine and healthy, and I'm ready to move on with my day. I'm not getting into bed to rest. I'm going to drink my latte and then go out to explore the tower, like I was thinking about doing before this all happened. Truman, please go back to whatever you were doing before Brianna called you. Brianna, you can join me on my exploration of the tower if you want. But, please, both of you. I'm not some weak little cream puff. No more fretting and fussing. I can't handle any more."

 

Both of them reluctantly agreed, and Truman asked Brianna if he could have a minute alone with me before he left.

 

Nodding, she picked up the two vanilla lattes from where she'd left them on the floor earlier. "Of course. I'll just go on out to the kitchen and heat these up."

 

Once she'd gone, Truman took my face in his large, long-fingered hands. "I am so, so sorry that what I told you this morning upset you. And for today, and maybe even the next several days, I want you to forget about the decision you have to make. Because after all, you do have two or three weeks to make it. And in the meantime, I don't want you making yourself dizzy and possibly getting hurt again. So, promise me you'll try to forget about your decision, at least for the rest of the day, and at least as much as you can. Okay?"

 

I nodded, moving my hands to his strong forearms. "Okay. I will. Can't promise I won't say a quick word to Brianna about the decision I have to make, being that she's my friend and all, but after that...yes, I promise. I'll try to forget about my decision for the rest of the day."

 

Truman planted a brief kiss on my mouth. "Good. Now, I have meetings with my advisers for most of the day, but I'll be back around dinner, and I'll take you to the best restaurant in the tower. Then, afterward, to help you de-stress, I'm going to take you up to my place and give you a very lengthy, very thorough full-body massage. How does that sound?"

 

It sounded heavenly. It sounded incredibly sexy. It sounded exactly like what I needed.

 

I exhaled a fluttery breath. "That sounds good."

He gave me a sly, half-grin that turned my insides to jelly. "Good. I'll see you around seven, then."

 

He gave me another kiss, letting his lips linger on mine, before leaving.

 

I joined Brianna out in the kitchen, feeling a little lightheaded, though not at all in a dizzy-from-stress kind of way.

 

She took our lattes out of the microwave, set them on the circular, blond oak kitchen table, and had a seat, looking at me. "Doing all right?"

 

I could barely comprehend the question. I was way too occupied thinking about my upcoming "very lengthy, very thorough" full-body massage from Truman that evening. I was way too occupied thinking about his large, strong hands kneading and caressing every single part of my body. I leaned against the archway threshold of the kitchen, wondering if he was going to want me to be completely naked for my massage. Wondering if
he'd
be completely naked. Wondering if I'd be able to run my gaze over his hard chest, hard abs, and hard other things while he ran his hands all over my body.

 

"Brette? Did you hear me? Are you doing all right? Do you want to sit down and drink your latte?"

 

It took me a moment or two to realize that Brianna had spoken to me.

 

Forcing a smile, I straightened up from the archway, came over to the table, and took a seat across from her. "Sorry. I was just a million miles away for a second."

 

Holding her foam latte cup between both hands, she cocked an eyebrow at me. "Mind on anything in particular?"

 

A little heat rose to my face, and I shook my head.

"Oh...no, not really. Just...oh, just thinking about how Truman and I are going to have dinner tonight."

 

"I see."

 

I'd started picking up my latte, but, having a sudden thought, I set it back down.

 

"Oh. I guess before we go on enjoying our day, there's something I want to tell you...about what I said earlier about having to make a decision. And I should just go ahead and get it out of the way right now, because I promised Truman I'd try to forget about it all day and not stress about it."

 

"So what is it? What's the decision you have to make?"

"Well, basically, it's probably just the most important one I'll ever have to make in my life. I have to decide whether to stay here, or return back to my
own
New York City."

 

Brianna frowned, drawing her gingery brows together. "You mean you have a choice? You actually
can
go back to your own parallel?"

 

I nodded. "Yes. At least, Truman's scientist, Dr. Townsend, is fairly certain I can. But not for long. I'd have to go back through some kind of accidental 'tear' between the parallels that Owen created. And Dr. Townsend says it'll probably only remain open for two or three weeks. So, I don't have very long to decide."

 

"Well, are you leaning one way or the other at this point?"

 

"Well...I honestly don't even know. I've barely even had time to think about it since Truman told me this morning. On one hand,
my
New York City,
my
world, is everything I know and love. All my friends, all my favorite places...all my memories. But then, on the other hand, I don't have any
best
friends in my world any more since my best friend passed away. I don't have much family left, either. And my job is...well, it's just a job. So, maybe I really
don't
have much tying me to my own world. But still...it
is
my own world that I've always lived in, and to decide to never return to it, knowing that that decision will be final and irrevocable...forever...well, it's just kind of scary. But, then...when I think about a possible future with Truman...."

 

I didn't finish the thought, and Brianna's green eyes twinkled.

 

"So...I take it there have been 'developments,' then?"

 

Heat rose to my face once again, and I suddenly found it difficult to maintain eye contact with her.

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