Memoirs of a Dragon Hunter Page 19

  “Ian? No. I’ve never seen him before. Why?”

  “Because he…” I glanced over to the girls. “Er…Aspen implied he did, and I didn’t think he could have, since he’s a nice guy, but I thought it was better to check. Are these girls your daughters?”

  “No, of course not. I wasn’t born until 1874, and they are far older than that. Not to mention that I don’t have any children.” She gave me an odd look. “Why are you asking these questions? Glitter said you were acting funny earlier. Are you sure you don’t have designs on them yourself?”

  “I’m just a helper monkey,” I protested. “It’s my newly inherited job to help, not hurt you. Er…did you say Glitter?”

  “Glitter is the one on the left. That’s Sparkle on the right,” Teresita said in a loud whisper. “They’re angels, Ronnie. Actual, living, breathing angels. Right here in my house! It’s almost enough to make me forget I’m an atheist!”

  “They aren’t angels,” Indigo said with a dismissive click of her tongue. “They’re simply esprits.”

  “Esprit is French for spirit…Wait, my living room is full of ghosts?” Teresita’s voice rose on the last word.

  Quickly, I explained what esprits were in this brave new world in which we found ourselves. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get you and the…er…I’m just going to call them girls, because that’s what they look like.”

  “We are female,” one of the girls said, glancing back at us. She had to be Sparkle, since it was Glitter I met at the door. “Glitter bears the soul of a stone-age warrior matriarch.”

  “And Sparkle’s original body was that of a Mesopotamian princess,” Glitter responded, setting down the game controller.

  “Why did you choose the form of little girls, then?” Teresita asked, her expression doubtful.

  They both shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Right, let’s go downstairs to Ian’s house.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was sending my charges into the den of the lion, but I reminded myself that I trusted Ian. Since the day when I’d gone to fetch Helen’s sword, he had protected us from demons, refused the aid of the powerful Falafel, and showed compassion toward Aspen despite the fact that he obviously would have preferred to leave her to her own misery. “Quarters will be a bit tight, but until we can figure out what we’re going to do with you, we’ll just have to tough it out.”

  We entered Ian’s apartment to find his living room had undergone a change. No longer were there two couches, a couple of chairs, and a number of end tables holding various animal cages, crates, and houses…Now there was a huge construction in the center of the room that appeared to be made up of all the furniture and animal houses, as well as at least six different blankets draped over it all.

  “You made a blanket fort?” I asked Ian, who had opened the door for us.

  “It’s mine, thank you very much. I made it because Indigo and the esprits are to have my room,” Sasha said, popping her head out from underneath a blanket.

  “Isn’t that a bit…” I bit off the word childish, not wanting to insult her, and fished out another word instead. “…awkward?”

  “Not really, no. It’s quite comfortable in here, although Ian isn’t allowed in. He’s being punished because he said I have to rehome the two kittens I found when we drove back here. See?” She held out her hands, which held a little calico kitten about four weeks old and its white-and-black sibling. “You can come into the fort if you like, though. I know you won’t be as heartless as Ian is.”

  “I am not heartless,” Ian said, closing the door with a little glance skyward, as if he was seeking patience. “I simply pointed out that until you know if those kittens are healthy and free of disease, they shouldn’t mingle with George, Paul, and Ringo.”

  “The three of them are visiting that nice old lady on the ground floor. Her cat just died, and she said she’d welcome the distraction of the fab three until we knew about the kittens.”

  I glanced at the clock. “You work fast. You’ve only been here twenty minutes or so, yes?”

  She grinned and retreated back into her blanket domain. “Time for music therapy! I think the kittens would like Aerosmith.”

  The two little girls (as I would continue to think of them, no matter how old and how warrior-like they had been in the past) made noises of pure pleasure and crawled in to join Sasha. Immediately, the sound of seventies rock emerged, followed by three voices singing along in absolutely no harmony at all.

  “I’m going to lie down,” Indigo said, glancing at her watch. “I have a headache that could drop a horse. Which room…ah. Thank you.” She disappeared into what had been Sasha’s room, closing the door softly behind her.

  I glanced first at the blanket fort, then at Ian. “Will they be okay with her?”

  “With Sasha?” Ian looked startled. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

  “Well, I gather they’re kind of special, and people mean them harm. I didn’t know if Sasha…” Once again, I bit off what I was going to say, trying to find a more circumspect way of asking my question. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone on between Sasha and Helen, but I wasn’t prepared absolutely to believe that she had killed my sister.

  “If Sasha was what?” Ian asked.

  “Prepared to monitor them,” I finished with a lameness that made me particularly unsatisfied with the situation.

  “She is a dragon hunter, even if I won’t let her have her élan vital back for a bit,” he pointed out, then turned and went into his bedroom.

  I made a face at his back, but decided I needed to talk to him, so I followed, making sure the front door was locked before I retreated to his room.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “IAN, WE NEED TO HAVE A TALK— OOMPH!”

  Ian waited until Veronica was in his room and the door was closed before he did what he’d been wanting to do all day—take her in his arms and kiss every last breath out of her lungs.

  She resisted for about two seconds before she melted against him, her delicious body clearly trying to seduce his with her soft, curved bits pressed tight against his. He loved the feeling of her in his arms, the scent of her tantalizing him. She smelled like a complex mix of honey, growing things, and sunlight, a scent that seemed to sink into his bones, captivating and capturing him. He moaned deep in his throat when his mouth came down on hers, filling his senses with the essence of her being.

  “Oh, boy, do you know how to kiss,” she said, wriggling against him in the most tantalizing way. He wanted her right then, but knew she might have issues with them making love when others were in the apartment.

  “I do, but you’re helping. And I agree we need to talk, but not right now. I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you at the Witness’s office,” he murmured as he plundered her mouth again. He gave himself up to the moment, her dragon fire running just as high as his. He was amazed for a moment that he could feel it in her, but he had no time to wonder at that because his body was demanding that he give in to its urges and kiss every square inch of her. But first, he had to make sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. “Are you okay with this?”

  “With you kissing me?” Her breath was ragged, which just made her breasts rub against his chest in a highly distracting way.

  “With that, and whatever else happens.”

  “Oh.” She glanced at the bed, then back at him, and with a slow smile, reached behind and twisted the lock on the doorknob. “So long as no one can come in, yes, I’m fine with wild, steamy dragon sex with you.”

  “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to last much longer without touching you. Tasting you. Doing all the numerous things to you that even now I’m adding to.”

  “Oooh,” she said with a particularly tantalizing shimmy against his penis. “How many things are on the list?”

  “Fifty-seven,” he answered promptly, then thought of her doing that same shimmy while they were in the shower, wet and slick with soap. “Fift
y-eight. Fifty-nine if you count the one in the swimming pool, but I don’t think that’s likely to happen given the public nature of it.”

  “My boobs miss your hands.” Veronica’s back arched when he took her breasts in his hands.

  “My hands missed them, too. So did my mouth. Are you going to let me try oral sex this time?”

  “I don’t…I think maybe…I’m not absolutely…” The idea of such intimacy clearly stirred up her anxiety, although he noted a bit of hesitancy that he hoped boded well for the future. “I have this weird desire to lick you, which is shocking because not only is it a scandalous thought, but it’s also so unsanitary. And yet, I still kind of want to…only, I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

  “There is time enough for that. At least, I hope there will be,” he said, his hands caressing and stroking her breasts. He loved the weight of them, the way their curves fit into his hands. He wanted to feel them against him, to taste them, but he knew he had to give Veronica time to build her own passion. He would take things at her pace, even though it meant enduring a painfully hard erection.

  She almost ripped the buttons off his shirt, her hands sliding up the planes of his chest, touching, teasing him with every stroke of her fingers.

  They moved in synch toward the bed, Ian helping her peel off her t-shirt and bra. The scent of warm woman—his warm woman—was intoxicating, and all he wanted to do was to give in to the desires that were building impossibly hot fires within him.

  It was at that moment that she pushed herself back from him, frowning a little. “What do you mean, you hope there will be time? Is that a reference to me taking forever to get over my phobia? Because if it is—”

  “No.” He stopped her objection by kissing her, her mouth sweet and hot and spicy all at the same time. “I am more than willing to give you whatever time you need to get comfortable with the idea.”

  “Oh,” she said, clearly mollified. “Good. Because I’m not saying it won’t ever happen, but I don’t like to be forced.”

  “I told you that I would never ask you to do something you don’t wish to do,” he said, quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothing.

  Veronica used the moment to wiggle out of her jeans and espadrilles, moving over to slide her hands around him, beneath his underwear, taking both cheeks in her hands. “You have the nicest butt I’ve ever seen. Or, in this case, felt.” She gave his ass a little squeeze. “I just want to bite it.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Literally or figuratively? Because if it’s the former, then I would say that is a good step forward.”

  She squeezed a cheek again while she considered. “Figuratively right now, although I have to say the thought of biting your behind is definitely in my mind. Do you think anyone will know what we’re doing in here?”

  “I doubt they will, but would it bother you if I was wrong?” His hands slid down to her own ass, its delightful fullness driving his desire even higher.

  “Noooo,” she said on a half moan when his hands took possession of her bare breasts. Ian froze for a few seconds until Veronica realized what happened.

  “Sorry, that wasn’t a no to stop. It was an answer to your question. Ian, I don’t want to do oral sex, but you can…you know…touch me downstairs if you like.”

  He waggled his eyebrows at her in a way that had her giggling, and scooped her up to carry her the three remaining steps to the bed. “I am more than happy to oblige, although you have to let me try out a theory of mine.”

  “What’s that?”

  He just smiled and peeled off his underwear. “Have you heard of aversion therapy?”

  Veronica blatantly ogled him, moving quickly to strike a seductive pose on his bed. “Boy, you really are…I mean, I know size isn’t the be-all and end-all, but you’re just…girthy. Wait, what did you say? Aversion therapy?”

  His smile turned wicked when he crawled up her legs, her delectable, luscious legs, pausing every few inches to drop a kiss along their silken lengths. “It’s a method of making people more comfortable with things they don’t think they’ll like.”

  “Ian,” Veronica said sternly, giving him a look that a mother gives an unruly child. “I was diagnosed with OCD at sixteen. When I say I’m very familiar with aversion therapy, you can believe it. But this is different than not being able to take the trash out without having to take three showers in a row. This is something wonderful between us, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

  He returned the look with one of his own. He was utterly and wholly captivated by her, and for the life of him, he couldn’t pinpoint anything extraordinary about her. She was quite lovely, but not the sort of beauty who made men stop on the street and stare. She had an imaginative mind with a quirky sense of humor that appealed greatly to him, but she clearly wasn’t overly concerned what others thought about her. He liked the fact that despite the emotional challenges she’d had to face—not the least of which was unintentionally becoming a dragon hunter—she was down-to-earth, and without airs and the mantle of victimhood.

  She was simply the most delightful woman he’d met in several hundred years. Possibly in his entire life. And despite knowing it was folly to even consider a future with anyone, he found himself doing just that.

  But first, he had to show her she could trust him. “I will let slide the implication that I’d force you into something after reassuring you I wouldn’t, and instead, show you what I mean.” His head dipped down, and he gently bit the inside of her knees.

  He felt her watching him while he moved from leg to leg, slowly inching upward, kissing, licking, and nibbling along the way. He put aside his own needs and passion, determined to show her that she had nothing to fear from him, and everything to enjoy.

  For a moment her legs were tense and unyielding, but she clearly forced herself to stop fighting him. “Okay, I’m going to relax now, because either I trust you or I don’t, right?”

  “Right,” he said, eying her crotch. He badly wanted to show her what pleasures he could give her, but he knew that would violate the bond of trust they’d developed. He rubbed his cheek against her inner thigh instead.

  “And I do trust you. Implicitly,” she said with a sort of wonder in her voice. He glanced up to see her face slightly flushed, her eyes almost glowing with emotion, so pure and honest, it almost hurt to look. She was falling for him—he’d seen that look in other women’s eyes over the ages, but it had never pleased him before. Whereas a love-struck sexual partner had hitherto been cause for separation in the past, that same look in Veronica’s eyes made something deep inside his chest glow with warm satisfaction…that turned to dread. How could he think of a future with her? He couldn’t even keep himself out of trouble, and now he wanted to expose her to potential danger.

  It was folly, sheer folly, and he had to stop.

  He dipped his head again, kissing her pubic mound before sliding his fingers past her underwear so as to gently tease her inner parts until they were as flushed as her cheeks. Folly it might be, but for the moment, he was unable to resist her siren lure.

  It was a temptation to give her secret parts a little flick of his tongue, but he held his desire in check and kept to the bounds she had set. Even if it killed him—and it might well do just that, considering the amount of sexual frustration he was experiencing—he’d give her pleasure so great she would see stars.

  “Oh, that is so…oooh, two fingers? Holy moly, that little curl you did…narng!”

  “Are you speaking in tongues now?” he asked, amused, aroused, and damned near desperate to bury himself in her heat.

  “Possibly. Wait, do you have fiery eyes?”

  He looked up. He had no idea what his eyes looked like, but a ring of silver flames licked the edge of her irises.

  She smiled. “Good. I just wanted to make sure, because I swear I can feel fire inside of you.”

  “That’s my dragon blood calling to yours. Now. Let’s see if I can do this right.”

  “Do what?” she
asked, propping herself up on her elbows to watch him.

  “You’ll see.” He considered removing her underwear but decided he’d let her choose when that moment was right. Instead, he spread her legs a bit wider, his fingers drawing intricate runes along her inner thighs. He frowned, concentrating, trying to master that which so often eluded him.

  “Why are you staring at my crotch?” she asked, clearly worried. “Is something wrong? Is it my underwear? I can take them off if you like. In fact, they pretty much have to come off in order for us to go for the shiny brass ring, although you were doing just fine with them on a few minutes ago.”

  “Hush,” he said. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

  “On my undies? I know they aren’t fancy, but I’ve never found sexy lingerie particularly comfortable—”

  “Hush,” he repeated, lifting his head enough to cock an eyebrow at her. “You’re making this harder than it should be.”

  “I thought that was the whole idea,” she said with a saucy smirk that warmed him to his toes. He had a feeling that she didn’t joke often with lovers, and the fact that she felt comfortable enough to do so with him was a sensation he cherished.

  He returned to rallying his dragon half, summoning the fire that always seemed to simmer inside him, trying to shape and form it the way he had been told full-blooded dragons mastered at an early age.

  “Okay, not to be critical, but I’m kind of losing the warm, tingly feelings all that touching, and beard on inside of thighs, and little love bites generated—”