Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
brIA
Four days before Christmas
Sleep had been hijacked by dragon dreams once again—hot, consuming, and far too vivid to forget.
His intense gaze, his fingers trailing heat over my skin, his mouth on mine…
When I woke, my panther stretched inside me, a lazy ripple of fur. We should be with our mate.
He’s a temporary diversion, I muttered before stepping into the shower. Just because he makes you purr doesn’t mean he’s our happily ever after.
Why not?
Haven’t we learned by now? All those promises? All those rich men who promise us the moon and once they disembark, the fantasy is over.
No, he’s different, she protested.
They all are—until they leave port.
He’s ours.
I scoffed. He’ll go back to his island and we’ll sail on. Same as always.
But as I ran the loofah over my body, consumed by thoughts of his hand being the one to stroke me, I came up with another plan.
After all, I had a new itch to scratch, and apparently the only one who could reach it was a dragon with piercing amber eyes. Figured.
* * *
The Celestial Lounge sparkled like a Hallmark movie having a sugar rush.
Giant candy canes leaned against the walls, garlands wrapped around potted trees, and strings of colored lights blinked like laughing elves.
The drink special of the night was eggnog, optionally spiked with rum, and the scent of it perfumed the room.
The bass thumped through the floorboards, vibrating up my boots.
The party was in full swing with witches, fae, vampires, and shifters decked out in the ugly sweater theme.
They swayed before me, already loosened up by a few eggnogs, and not exactly in rhythm.
I had to suppress a laugh when an oversized wolf shifter lumbered off the beat while I sang “Santa Baby” during tonight’s special show with Luna Blue Shadows.
Their singer had given me the stage halfway through the set so I could sing solo for a few saucy numbers.
What a difference it was to sing along with a rock band rather than the piano in my usual numbers. Fun, actually. I sashayed along to the electric guitar, bass, and drums behind me. Van had stepped offstage while I sang, and he stole the moment to canoodle with his vampire mate Celeste.
Damien played guitar behind me, head bent as his dark hair falling across his pale cheek.
His ugly sweater was still metal—black with a dancing skeleton with colorful lights encircling him.
I grinned to myself. Apparently, I had a thing for bad boys with three-syllable names starting with D.
Only what I’d had with Damien had been fleeting, nothing more than a fling. He’d been easy to forget.
And Darius?
A hint of danger in a dark suit. I sensed it wouldn’t be easy to forget him.
I glanced around for the dragon, but didn’t see him. Oh well, it would be better for my performance not to have him distract me.
During the next song, a pair of young witches sashayed to the beat across the stage.
A trio of wolf shifters drooled over them from across the room.
An elegant vampire couple glided with an eerie grace that only the undead could pull off.
I shook my shoulders flirtatiously as I sang, basking in the warmth of the lights and attention from the crowd.
The energy from performing made me feel alive, even more so tonight with the pulsing beat of the rock instruments.
I craved the high from performing, the one time I was adored, at least temporarily.
When we ended the song, Van dragged himself away from his vampire to saunter back to the stage.
He’d gone all-in on the theme, wearing rainbow antlers on his head and a grinning snowman knitted across his chest, complete with a protruding carrot nose that wobbled as he walked.
I smirked. Only this cheeky jaguar shifter would find a way to make a Christmas sweater a little phallic.
My sweater was sleek, not ugly. I could only handle so much without ruining my style. My black cashmere sweater was bedazzled with silver paw prints in a retro-80’s look. Paired with a short red leather skirt, tall black boots, and sparkly cat ears, I fit the theme without sacrificing my looks.
Van climbed back on stage and his carrot bounced.
“Watch where you aim that thing,” I said with a sassy edge, turning my hip.
He flashed his mischievous grin. “Wouldn’t want to shoot your eye out,” he said, an homage to A Christmas Story.
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
“Are you ready for more big cat energy?” I asked the crowd and they cheered.
The band began to play “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” and Van theatrically fanned himself.
“Cold. Try to keep up, jaguar,” I teased. “You’re fanning yourself like it’s summertime.”
“Baby, it may be cold outside,” he countered, “but it’s getting ‘Hot in Herre.’” He sang a few lines of Nelly’s song while doing a bump-and-grind move.
The audience chuckled. We sang the duet, interspersing banter for the crowd—strictly performance chemistry, but the supes ate it up, especially other big cat shifters.
We alternated on the next few songs and finished together with “Let it Snow,” encouraging everyone to join in. Once our set ended to raucous cheers, we thanked the crowd. Van slung his arm over my shoulder then kicked up his legs like a Rockette.
Applause echoed around us as we left the stage. I smiled, flushed from singing and the lights. Awareness prickled along my skin. Even with the crowd’s laughter and the pulse of the music, my senses sharpened. The air shifted—rich, smoky, electric. My pulse raced. He was close.
My panther lifted her head. Ours.
He’s nothing but trouble, I warned. My attraction to him grew and no part of me knew how to deal with that.
I turned and caught his smoldering gaze from across the room.
Darius.
Every inch of me tingled with sudden heat.
He stood at the bar. Damien blocked my view as he stepped over to say something to his mate Kylie, behind the bar. A moment later, Darius strode over to me, looking like sinful danger in a dark sweater with a tasteful gold outline of a dragon.
The air swirled with a pleasant hum between us as he closed the distance between us. The boisterous party noise dulled to a low background din.
“Nice duet,” he said, his voice smooth and eyes glittering with a devilish gleam.
“No reindeer jumper?” I teased.
His brows drew close in question. “Reindeer?”
“Never seen Bridget Jones’s Diary?” At his blank expression, I added, “Never mind.” The heat grew, dancing over my skin. “It’s so hot in here.” I fanned myself. “I could use some air.”
“Let’s go.” He slid his hand to my lower back, and the warmth of his palm grounded me.
Once we were outside on the promenade deck, the cool sea air whipped my hair around my face.
He caught the wild strands and pressed his hands against my temples.
I glanced up at him, instantly caught up in the dark intensity of his gaze beneath the moonlight.
The breeze was cool and briny, a sharp contrast to this heated pull between us.
Despite the soothing rippling sound of the ocean, an erratic hum pulsed inside me.
It was all too much—his devastating appeal, enticing scent.
I was falling fast, and I had no idea how to stop before I crashed.
“Darius,” I said, sounding breathless.
“What?” His tone dark, feral.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” I murmured.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to burn the deck with all that heat churning inside you.”
He inhaled, nostrils flaring, and his gaze lowered to my lips. “I’d burn the entire ship down for you, kitten.”
God, my entire body trembled.
“But you’re right. I’m entirely too hot,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And I need to do something before I explode.”
“What?” I asked, anticipation rising.
“This.” He bent my head back and lowered his mouth to mine. When our lips brushed, sparks ran up my arm. He pulled me closer and delved in, tasting of his decadent rum.
My panther went absolutely still, then let out a throaty purr that vibrated down to my toes.
When we broke apart, we both breathed hard.
I glanced around, trying to regain my bearing. Was Cedric around? Was this part of the act? “That didn’t feel like pretend,” I whispered.
“No,” he agreed in a husky voice. “That was entirely real.”
Something inside me slipped, a last fragile thread desperately holding on to control.
“It can’t be,” I said, sounding as frantic as I felt. “But I know what we should do.”
“What?” His eyes flashed with dark fire.
My body ached for more of his touch, more of the searing heat only he could spark.
“We need to stop fighting it.” I smoothed my hand over the sides of my leather skirt. “And the best way to break the tension is to get it out of our systems.”
He didn’t blink or speak for a few wild heartbeats. Just stared at me with those dark, hungry eyes. “Yes.”
Relief flooded me. “Good.” I’d never wanted anyone so bad. “Just this once.” Immediately after I said it, I regretted the word. How could once ever be enough with this dragon?
Enough contemplation. Enough questions.
I leaned up on my tiptoes toward his ear and whispered, “Take me to your room.”