Bracing her feet in the wet sand, she sought purchase, sought to calm the dragon, telling it how wrong it was. There was no way she could meet him on the psychic plane. To do so would only end in certain tragedy.
The girls who'd called out to him earlier had fallen silent.
Hope had forgotten that the rest of the crowd was watching his progress across the sand, too, as if he were their own personal striptease.
A man called out, "Hope, my bet is on you. Take this outsider down."
Jason.
Hope recognized his voice.
She didn't dare look away from the immortal who stood on the far end of the makeshift fighting ring.
Her gaze caught with Aaron's and held. The air sizzled. Hope's throat went dry. Her chest burned.
Her muscles were strung so tight that if she didn't move, if she didn't do something, she was going to snap and give way to the clawing fire inside.
They circled, closing the distance, until they were just a few feet from each other.
Focusing all her attention on her dragon, she drew on its strength. When she spoke, she was proud her voice was firm. "Since you're too busy preening for the crowds, why don't I set the rules?"
"You don't lack your share of admirers either." Tension underlined his words. "Someone special?"
"Who?" She blinked.
"The shifter who called out to you; he wants to get into your pants."
"Don’t be crude." Pleasure thrummed through her blood.
He was jealous.
"Jason's a friend." She flicked the hair out of her eyes, "A good friend. He's also a dragon shifter," she couldn't resist adding.
Aaron's jaw set.
Hope stifled a chuckle.
"So, rules," he gritted out.
Hope bent her knees and leaned forward, arms raised in a defensive move. "The only rule is that I won't shift. Okay?"
Without waiting for Aaron to acknowledge her words, Hope charged toward him. The rational part of her brain, the one that had managed to throw off the sexual net he'd swung over her, pinged a warning.
Too fast. She was going too fast.
She should have waited and baited him. Instead, she'd been so frustrated with herself for being so affected by him that she'd simply thrown herself into the fight.
The loss of control only made her furious with herself.
She should have learned to control her emotions in a fight by now. Yet there she was, anger pulsing through her, twining with the heat of desire that refused to abate. It made her a little mad. Pushed her to get the better of this male who'd thrust his way into her life.
She couldn't resist this attraction to him, but she could still try to defeat him in an honest fight.
Aaron didn't move. His body was immobile, every muscle locked.
Hope was sure she was going to crash into him and throw him off his feet.
Her muscles relaxed, bracing for impact. Her mind was already sure she’d won this fight when he stepped aside. At the very last second.
She brushed past him so close that a hint of that deep, edgy eucalyptus scent of his teased her nostrils, and then she went flying. The sand rushed up to meet her.
At the last moment, Hope angled her body enough to break her fall. She came to a halt on her back, spitting out the sand in her mouth.
Without giving herself time to recover, she sprung back on her feet. Breath coming in short gasps, sweat beaded her forehead.
Inside, her dragon ruffled its wings. She wanted out, wanting to fly. To preen for him as he had earlier.
She hissed a warning, gentling the beast, asking the animal part of her to calm down. Right then was not the time to play. She couldn't lose the fight.
Knees bent, she circled, hands up in a fighter's stance.
Their gazes met. Held. Desire flared, a hot, uncontrollable feeling.
Hope let it bleed through her veins, reveling in that feeling of wild passion.
His eyes promised it would be so much more. He'd make her his, in a way she'd never been anyone else's.
It fooled the dragon part of her into being compliant.
Only for a few seconds.
It gave her just enough time to calm her breathing and bend her knees, to find that core inside her that steadied her. Allowing her to wait for him to come.
Still, Aaron didn't break his gaze.
He wasn't giving in to her. She was so not going to be the first to blink in this game.
They circled each other once. Twice. The only sound on the beach was that of waves crashing on the shore.
A fine hum of tension from Aaron reached out to her. He moved toward her, sliding with a lethal grace that tugged her to come to him.
14
Aaron
The sweat ran down her body, glistening in the sun, reflecting the honey-brown of her skin.
Aaron wanted to throw her down on the sand and lick her all over.
The part of him attracted to this woman from the moment he'd met, told him to just do that.
Pushing aside his thoughts, he circled her, fists curled and held up in front.
Aaron dared not take his attention off her.
The way she moved, every muscle wary, impatience vibrating off her in a fine cadence, he was sure she was planning something. But what?
The tension stretched between them, building and flowing, tugging at his senses, warning him that something was going to happen. Or maybe that was just his gut twisting, sending a pulse of such want through him that he felt light-headed for a second.
This was a fight, he reminded himself, and she was a pawn in a tactic aimed at forming an alliance with the dragons.
The edginess inside him ratcheted up and continued to build, stretching his muscles until it felt like every fiber of his being was shivering.
Each cell in his body was finely tuned to the woman facing him. The wind rushed over his skin as he circled, moving closer. When he was within a few feet of her, he darted toward her.
She evaded him and slid aside in a flash of honey-gold skin.
He stumbled, trying to regain his balance, grasping at the air where she'd just been.
She was already turning on him.
She slammed into him from behind.
The beach rushed up to meet him.
He turned his head to avoid his nose from smashing into the ground.
His chest hit the sand. The breath was knocked out of him.
Her hands gripped the back of his head and kept his cheek plastered to the soil.
Her thighs locked around his waist. She wrested his arms behind his back and shackled them in place.
His muscle strained as he tried to move, only to find that he was trapped. Sweat dripped down his forehead.
She was strong, his dragoness. In human form, they were well-matched. He could only imagine how much more powerful her dragon was.
"Yield." Her breath snaked over his skin in a way that had his nerve endings crackling with awareness.
"You're too confident, baby." His voice came out muffled.
"Don't call me baby."
He chuckled at the irritation in her voice.
The next moment her breasts were plastered against his back.
He was instantly hard.
Her curves molded to his skin, her nipples thrusting into his back with every breath she took.
If he stayed in this position for too long, he was going to give away just how aroused he was.
She was a strong warrior, and he owed it to her to fight back.