7. Dragon
Chapter Seven
DRAGON
Isat on top of the cliff with Horse’s head on my lap, the wind blowing my hair around while José headed down the cliff for the promised cake.
I ran my fingers through my husband’s hair, unable to stop touching him. He was mine. A week without him was too long. His thick hair felt so good sliding between my fingers where my skin was the most sensitive.
I clearly should have told Horse my plan, so he didn’t worry.
He was more of a worrier than I was. I tended to sink into misery and block it out, but he was more emotional because he hadn’t spent his life dulling his senses, building up calluses over his heart.
I’d never been sensitive like Daniela, with music and art, but there was a time when I was small, when things hurt a lot more.
I’d keep Horse safe from as much pain as possible. Except that he was a fighter. If he were a fighter, why was he still so delicate?
His dark lashes fluttered, and then he was awake, staring up at me like he wasn’t sure if this was a dream or a nightmare.
“We got married,” I said quickly. “Sorry for the surprise wedding. I thought you’d like it, but I guess not.” I curled my hands away from him. “Sorry. I was touching you while you were unconscious. Do you mind? For future times when you faint.”
His dark brows came together. “Sorry? I’m sorry. The next time you throw me a surprise wedding, I’ll make sure I stay conscious for it. Is that a cello playing?”
I smiled slightly. I hadn’t noticed. “Daniela agreed to play. Actually, she insisted when she heard that I was just going to play music on a sound system.”
He gave me a soft, crinkly smile. “I thought we were alone.”
“She’s down by the cake.”
“Right. I saw the white tent.”
“No, that’s the…” I stared at him while words fled.
He raised his brows, but not his head, like he was perfectly content being exactly where he was for the rest of his life. “The…”
I paused while I tried to say words that weren’t ‘honeymoon,’ ‘bridal,’ or anything else that would make him feel pressured to have physical connection tonight.
I licked my lips and managed, “It’s our camping tent.
It has a big bed and a cooler with snacks.
In case you’re too tired to travel home tonight.
After we eat cake. And there are drinks.
Nothing alcoholic. But it’s just if you wanted to not get back right away.
Because there are stars. Also, air conditioning. ”
He rose up and kissed my chin, soft, silky, strange connection that made my stomach curl and tangle like my fingers in his hair as I clung to him.
He kissed my lips, my nose, then forehead before he pulled away, eyes heavy-lidded and sultry. “You got me air conditioning? Has any man ever had such a fine wife?”
I snorted and turned my head while I tried to get my breathing under control. Seriously, he could just kiss me like that? Did that mean I could kiss him?
“Let’s go get cake,” he said, rolling to his feet and then helping me up like he weren’t the one who fainted.
I glanced up at him, hating that we had to move, also, was he really okay? “Are you sure you’re steady?”
“Yes. I actually haven’t eaten today. I think it’s blood sugar that sent me sprawling.”
Then I needed to feed him. Now. I tugged him down the trail in the dark, lit by stars and small lights that pointed down so the trail was subtly illuminated without messing up the view. That was Dirk’s doing.
“Charles was in charge of cake. I didn’t think about anything else, but there are snacks in the tent.” I glanced over at him.
He smiled back, eyes twinkling. “If Charles was in charge of the cake, there will also be actual food options. He’s a foodie.”
“Oh. You don’t want to go to the tent? Because that’s completely fine if you’re not ready for a physical relationship with me.
There’s no rush.” I winced at that lie. “Except that I struggle with the impulse to drag you to my cave and ravish you. That’s why I left without saying anything. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
He covered my hand with his and moved closer so his arm was pressed against mine. He felt so good. Could I touch his bare wrist? I couldn’t not, and his skin was so silky beneath the cuff of his suit.
“Make me suffer.” He said it like a command in a low growl that sent goosebumps down my spine.
“It makes the end of the torment that much sweeter. You avoided me so you wouldn’t ravish me?
Ravish me, Dragon. Devour me and leave nothing left for the scavengers.
” He raised my hand to his lips, and those soft lips sliding over my fingers were interrupted by his teeth, sharp, sending a shock of pain and aching through me.
He lowered my hand while his eyes promised more heat, more power, more intensity than anything I’d ever tasted. My mouth watered, and I almost dragged him to the tent, but he hadn’t eaten all day. I hurried down to the cake and the people instead.
It was still dark, but people wore little glow bands around their wrists so you didn’t run into anyone. Why were there people? I hadn’t invited anyone. The tables were similarly outlined, which is where I headed immediately.
“Congratulations,” Nix said, stepping in front of me, blocking the table, Sunshine at his elbow.
“Hey. You hate weddings. Why are you here?”
“To make sure he went through with it. You didn’t see the shotgun I had trained on Horse.”
Suddenly, it wasn’t that great to see him. Not that I could see more than the vague outline of his head. “You’re standing between me and food,” I growled.
Sunshine giggled and then pulled Nix to the side. “Beg your pardon. You feed that baby.”
“Horse. I’m feeding Horse. I need him to have enough strength that I don’t kill him in the sex tent.”
Horse gurgled like he was dying. Nix snorted but didn’t say anything.
“Sex tent?” Horse whispered after we’d passed them.
I winced. I was trying to make it non-pressure.
Clearly nailed it. “I’m not good at talking, add trying not to offend delicate sensibilities and I’m done.
If you think that it’s okay that I want you, then it’s fine.
Unless you want me to call it something else.
” It wasn’t fine. It definitely wasn’t fine.
“Sex tent is great. I’m Horse. Delicate sensibilities? Me?” He laughed like a manwhore, and I elbowed him.
“And you didn’t faint before we did rings. Rings!” How did I forget? Would he hate them? Would he love them? I needed him to love them.
“Later. When we’re alone in the sex tent, we can turn on the flashlights and see the rings. I’ve got to see the rings. You made them?”
He sounded so hopeful. Like he was more excited about rings than sex.
My heart lurched and my stomach tangled.
“Yeah. I made the rings.” Hopefully, he didn’t hate them.
Were they too delicate? Too industrial? Too unique?
And why wasn’t he more excited about the sex tent?
Right. He didn’t want transactional; he wanted romantic.
Love tent. Or something else that wasn’t so incredibly loaded.
What was wrong with me? My skin was so itchy and hot.
Horse was mine. I needed him in my love tent, and I needed him to squeeze all of this panic out of me.
That’s what it was, right? Panic. That he’d change his mind, and I’d have to spend another week in a hospital with nothing to do other than reflect on my idiocy.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and then kissed my fingers.
What? Oh. Rings. I should have called it the camping tent. Why didn’t I call it the camping tent? And why did we need a tent, anyway? We could just go back to the hotel.
It was dark, but the different kinds of cakes were illuminated, and Horse was right about Charles. There were two tables for cake, and another two tables for dinner food. Pixel was at the cake table, clearly visible because he’d painted his face in glow-in-the-dark makeup. Also his mohawk.
“Congrats on the knot tying,” he said with his mouth full, raising his fork to salute Horse.
Horse released my hand and grabbed Pixel in a headlock, sending cake and fork into the dirt. “You knew that I was flying to my wedding, but you didn’t say anything?”
“I was flying,” Pixel gurgled. “You’re welcome.” After a few more squeezes, Horse released his driver.
“Thank you,” he finally said, slapping his driver on the back.
I went over to the food tables and started piling up a plate for him before I put Horse in a headlock and dragged him to the tent. I didn’t like him choosing to choke out Pixel over holding my hand. Which wasn’t rational. I needed to get on that before things got really weird.
“The sex tent?” Jezabel hissed from behind me.
Our whole teams were here. Did I invite them?
No. Jezabel specifically told me that Horse would like small, intimate, just the two of us.
So why were she and Nix here? Right. Jezabel didn’t care what Horse wanted.
She’d tell me what he’d like and then do whatever would irritate him the most.
“Don’t ask. I’m making a mess out of everything. Apparently surprise weddings are stressful for the person who doesn’t know they’re happening.”
She snickered. “I saw him faint. Both of our teams are here, but no media coverage. Can you believe Nix loves you so much? But Dirk’s doing the photography for your personal wedding album. No one else could do it in the dark. Such a unique idea, this blind wedding of yours.”
I sighed heavily and grabbed some slices of meat that smelled good, but not nearly as good as Horse.
“But the stars are what matter,” Horse said, sliding his hands around my waist and tugging me so I fit perfectly against his strong body.
I looked up at the sky, and he was right.
The stars were absolutely breathtaking. With Daniela’s cello playing the sound of love, passion, and forever, I started to feel it.
The tension eased out of me while we stood there, swaying slightly, staring up at the stars.
Everything was going to be okay. Even if I did love him.
I loved him? Yes. I’d been getting more panicked since the vows, where I promised to love him, but now it felt obvious and right. Of course I loved Nate, who liked to be called Horse, and he’d promised to love me, too. Maybe it wouldn’t last forever, but now was enough.
Happiness and contentment steadily filled me until I was relaxed, letting him hold up my weight.
I picked up some meat in my fingers and held it up so he could eat it over my shoulder.
“This is nice,” I murmured, and then ate some of the stuff.
I should have tried it first to make sure it was…
Mm. It was. Better than good. Mouth-wateringly delicious.
Did Charles make it? If he was a foodie did that mean he actually cooked?
We could cook together, because I needed to know how to make this.
So good. And no carbs. Probably butter, though. Yes. And a sauce, maybe a marinade.
Between songs, I heard something. Not much, just the click of a Big Henry lever.
I grabbed Jezabel and Horse, and pulled them down under the table.
“Aren’t we cozy,” Jezabel drawled. Horse didn’t fit very well.
And then bullets hit the table. There were no screams, but I did hear a grunt and thud as someone dropped.
Jezabel hissed and handed me her plate. “Feel free to eat that. I’m going to go feast on fresh meat.” She slipped out, leaving me in the real dark with Horse, without stars, trying to figure out where the best place would be for a counterattack.
He shifted, so he was lying on his side, spooning me, the plates in front of us. “That’s more comfortable. Should I go help, or is this better, so I can personally keep you and the baby safe?”
Oh. Right. I hadn’t considered the baby.
Good thing I had protective instincts for Jezabel and Horse.
Irrational as that was. I guess I was spending the rest of the fight under a table.
“ Nix is here, and Dirk and Daniela. We’d probably just get caught in the crossfire.
I mean you, because I’m obviously staying out of the fight. Because I’m pregnant.”
He kissed my ear. “Nice save. There’s also Jerome, Charles, and Pixel.
Pixel will probably get shot. He’s got the most glow, so that makes him an easy target, but a little blood loss never hurt anyone.
” He brushed my ear with his soft lips, warm breath sending a skittering of awareness through me.
“Thank you for protecting yourself. It’s incredibly attractive. ”
I smiled and let go of the need I had to take on this battle. Truthfully, I was less stressed now than I’d been at the wedding vows. Fighting was normal. Romance was not.
“What’s your favorite love song?” I asked and then pinched more of the delicious meat in my fingers and fed it to him.
His lips seemed more interested in me than food. Once he’d licked my fingers, he murmured, “I love the classics, Rat Pack. Frankie, Bing, Dean, but who could pick a favorite out of so many?”
Right. So many amazing women, who could pick just one? Not that he was talking about women, but he liked women. Plural. I didn’t like him liking women. Vehemently.
“Those are good,” I said lamely.
“Only because they remind me of you. You are my favorite love song, Trix. You are my only love song.” He kissed my shoulder, and I absently finished the last piece of the delicious meat.
I moved the plates over and then turned in his arms so we were nose to nose.
In the dark. I brushed my nose with his, and then with this soft sigh, he sank against me, kissing and caressing me like I was the most delicate, breakable thing in the world.
Love was so good. The need to devour him melted into perfect contentment. He could kiss me like this forever. So soft. So sweet.
It felt real. Right. Self-evident. I’d always been one step from falling into Horse. Now it was time to fall over the edge into infinity.