Damian wanted to touch her, and he wanted to give her so much more. His hands wrung the steering wheel as he took another turn at high speed, feeling the pressure of his inseam against his now erect cock. The last of the succubus’s poison working itself out? Doubtful. No—this was all him. Set on her. Set on being with her—being inside her. The thought made him rock-hard and stirred his sleeping dragon.
When would he see her again? She would text him. He was sure of it. Wasn’t he? He craved her—he needed her—she had to text him.
And he knew he would ache until she did. Damian growled at himself. There were times when self-control was necessary, but now wasn’t one of them. He had to take the edge off. He took another turn at breakneck speed and stepped on the gas as he reached for his belt, unlatching it quickly, before sinking his hand.
If he had followed her up the stairs to her apartment…if he’d caught her inside the door and pressed her against the wall…if he’d fit his mouth to hers and pushed his tongue in—he stroked himself rhythmically, in time to his thoughts, following the road from memory, increasing in speed. His cock in her mouth, then her hot thighs parting, him buried deep inside, thrusting, listening to her moan—he knew he was running out of road, but he felt like not coming was more likely to kill him than any accident. He needed this prelude—to exorcise his lust, to make it possible to just be himself around her the same way he wanted her to be around him.
Go take her, his dragon whispered.
Damian grit his teeth, still stroking. If his dragon had his way, they’d abandon the car now, fly back to her apartment, rip off its roof, and steal her away. The closer he got, the more willing he was to entertain doing it. He raced through another turn, his eyes half-lidded, and his jaw dropped, driving on instinct as he pumped his hand. In his mind, he was thrusting himself inside her, feeling her entire body tense…
Claim her.
Andi below him, calling his name, hips bucking…
Mate her.
In his mind, she came below him, and he reveled in the glory of it before letting it bring…him… home. He gasped—shuddering, momentarily transported—before he looked over the steering wheel and saw the road about to end. His foot slammed on the brake, and he yanked the emergency brake and the car spun in a squealing circle until it stopped, and he got out, angrily tucking his shirt back in—ignoring the warm, wet spot spreading against his stomach.
There was only a hair’s breadth of space between the far side of his car and the guardrail. It would take a twenty-point turn to get him away from it without scratching anything. He stood at the end of the road and looked over it, at how close he’d come to needing to shift to save his life.
Andi, his dragon purred—perhaps the first time his dragon had ever used another human’s name. Mine, his dragon said, and set him aflame with desire from the inside out. Damian staggered and caught himself on the car hood, cursing, trying to push his urges down. Instead of finding closure with his hand, he’d only opened Pandora’s Box—and found his own dragon waiting inside.
How could he let himself get like this—over a human?
He reached for his phone and found a text waiting from her: Ten, tonight? and a slow liquid-like sensation of satisfaction perfused his entire body.
Yes, he typed back without hesitating.
Chapter 14
Andi woke up just in time to call in sick without getting into trouble, which was good because trouble was already waiting for her outside.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Danny, does it?”
She could hear Sammy interrogating someone in their living room—and could sense from Sammy’s tone that her roommate’s arms were crossed. Andi groaned and stretched in bed. She’d taken some ibuprofen before she’d gone to sleep, but she was the kind of sore that only moving more would fix.
Why? Because she’d taken a three-hour nap in a sports car that morning.
“Are you sure? Because Danny is bad news, and we don’t want any of that around here.”
She sat up in bed, blinking awake and listening. Sammy was talking louder now—on purpose. To warn her.
“Don’t make me call the cops.”
Andi’s eyes widened. For Sammy to threaten that… She reached under her bed for her aluminum baseball bat. In a T-shirt and boxer shorts, she crept out to the living room, hugging one wall with the bat low. The hall was too narrow for her to take a proper swing, but she could take a decent golf stroke into someone’s balls if she had to.
“Like I told you, she’s asleep. I’ll pass your message along.”
“And like I told you, I’d rather wait.” Andi heard the other person for the first time and realized it was a woman. A ball-shot was off the table, but maybe a crotch-shot would do. She peeked out of the hallway and saw Sammy talking to someone with platinum blonde hair. “There she is,” the woman sitting on their couch said, turning. “Good morning, Miss Andrea.”
The only one who called her Andrea anymore now that her mom had passed was… “Who are you?” Andi stepped into the living room and swung the bat up to her shoulder.
She turned herself on the couch to face Andi. She was dressed in a short black dress that made the stark-whiteness of her face and limbs brighter, and the deep red of her lips more menacing. The only thing out of place on her was what looked like a tiger-claw on the end of a leather thong around her neck, tucked against her cleavage. She stood, her heels making her tower over Andi. “Your esteemed uncle sent me. He has recently returned to town and desires to have dinner with you this evening.”
Uncle Lee. She knew it. Andi groaned. “I’m going to work. I work nightshift. He knows that.”
“So?”
Nobody else needed to know she had other plans for the evening. “So…I don’t go out on school nights, Miss…”
“Elsa.”
“Thanks, Elsa. I’m sorry he sent you for me, but we’ll have to reschedule.”
Elsa paused, then redoubled. “It will just be a light dinner; you’ll be done well before your shift starts—”
“No,” Andi said.
“Yes,” the woman demanded, as though that made it so. Andi just stared at the woman, wondering at the gall of her, and Sammy started apologizing.
“She barged in here, Andi…I’m sorry…I’ll get my phone—”
Andi waved her aside. It wasn’t Sammy’s fault; her uncle’d been trying to micromanage her life for as long as she could remember—him and all his money. She didn’t think he meant to lord it over their poorer mother’s side on purpose; it was just how he was. Only unlike their absentee father, none of his gifts ever came without a price. It was why she still had student loans. She couldn’t stand the thought of him taking credit for her education until the day she died. Although she had contacted him when Danny’d run out on his hearing—because if her derelict brother ever did come back, he would need an amazingly expensive lawyer to stay out of prison.
But Danny’s problems were his problems. And she wasn’t going to give up her evening with Damian now—with no warning—at her uncle’s say-so. Andi set the baseball bat down on the back of the couch. “Look, lady, I don’t think you’re going to wrangle me out of here in spike heels.”