I glance over at him, suddenly nervous as he turns towards me. “Well, now we have a dog. A pregnant dog. At this rate, you’re going to collect an entire menagerie of strays. I hope you don’t mind catching a lot of food because if this continues, we’re going to have a veritable…Noah’s…Ark…”
My words trail off as he cups my cheeks with both hands. He stares down into my eyes, his thumb-claw grazing over my lower lip. God, the way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he’s trying to memorize my face. He cradles me tenderly, and I’m helpless in front of his warm, intense gaze.
“Dakotah,” he murmurs, and then leans in to kiss me.
Oh, mercy. Stay strong, Dakota. I bite back the groan that rises in my throat as his tender lips brush over mine. It’s the best feeling in the universe, and I want to kiss for hours…but we can’t. With insane self-control, I pull his hands from my face and meet his gaze. “Murr, wait. We need to talk about the future. I think you need to go for your own safety. Find some other place to set up shop. The fort’s going to think we’re rich and they’re going to come after us. It’s one thing for me and Rabbit to hide, but it’s another for you. And if they realize you’re a friendly dragon, they might not want to let you go. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.” I realize I’m rambling word-soup at him, so I boil it down more. “Murr not safe here. Murr go.”
He tilts his head at me, a clear question.
“More bad men will be coming,” I say. “Murr not safe. Murr go.”
That strange, erotic mouth of his curves into a hint of a smile, flashing his fangs. He cups my face again and leans in so his nose brushes against mine. “No.”
I can’t help myself. I move in toward him, closing the distance and kissing him. Just a quick, stolen kiss. Just a sip. “Murr, yes.”
“Dakotah, no.” He kisses me again, his tongue sweeping over my lower lip in a quiet invitation. “Dakotah here, Murr here.”
Those four words speak volumes. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”
He kisses me again, gently tasting my upper lip, then back to my lower lip again. He showers me with the sweetest kisses, until I give in and slide my hands to his waist, holding him close as his tongue touches mine. No man has ever kissed me like this before him, like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Like he’s been starving for my touch all day long, and now he wants to feast.
All right, if he’s not going to leave, we’ll need a plan B.
Just…as soon…as we stop kissing…
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OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 50
One Month Later
MURR
No wonder humans wear a dozen layers of clothing at all times. I pull my loin wrap tighter around my hips, wondering if I should switch to my battle-form, where the wind and cold do not bother me. The skies clouded overnight and instead of the normal balmy “ween-turr” weather, there is an icy breeze that makes the cats run for shelter and huddle in corners. I want to shift into my battle-form to warm them, too…but when I am in battle-form, there are no kisses and no caresses.
Two legs it is.
Dakota reassures me that the hay we put down for the cats in the other building will help them keep warm. Most of the cats have migrated over to the bookstore, because Rabbit gives them treats and pets and they curl up in her bed. There are a few cats that don’t like humans at all, but I make sure they are fed regardless.
I do not care for some humans, either.
“Murr, wilu hand me dat tarp?” Dakota says, gesturing at the blue rustling sheet near my feet. She speaks slowly so I can understand her words, along with the hand movements. “S’for my plants.”
“Why?” I ask as I drag the long, noisy length of blue…something over to her. It is not leather, for it rustles too much. I do not know what it is, only that when she woke up and saw her breath frosting, she dragged several of them out of the supply room and got to work. It is shaped a lot like the blanket she likes to wrap herself in, but the feeling is very different. “Is…bed?”
She takes the tarp from me and moves to the row of plants she’s been nurturing in a sunny spot in the parking lot. Dakota saved some of the hay we retrieved for the cats and piled it over her tiny greens. “Cover to keep warm. Tarp, hay.” With an ear-deafening rustle, she lays the tarp over her plants. “Protect from cold.”
Interesting. Dakota always has a plan of action for everything. I admire this about her. There is never a scenario that she is not ready for. “Dakota smart,” I praise.
She beams at me, smiling. Her nose is pink in the cold, and she shivers in the air before tucking the tarp around the plants again. Rabbit is working on bringing in piles of hay—dried grasses from the field nearby that we cut down with some strange blade—over to ensure the cats are warm. Dottie and Aggie are just outside the doors of the bookstore, huddled in blankets and tending to a small fire out of the way of the wind.
Stella is inside, probably passing gas and sleeping. The dog is a strange creature, far less fastidious than the cats. She is very easygoing, though.
I gesture at the window in the bookstore, which is full of more of Dakota’s plants. In the days since we last saw the bad male, she has been seeding pots and filling them with dirt. Something about “goinallin” which I do not yet grasp.
Dakota nods at me. “We’ll cover them too. Later.”
“Later” is a sound that means “not right now,” so I wait to see what Dakota has planned. I move closer to her so I can assist in whatever we work on next. The wind rips again, ruffling my mane and tearing the loin wrap from my hips.
Immediately, Aggie hoots. “BIG MEAT.”
“Ignore her,” Dakota says, stripping off her outermost layer of clothing, the puffy thing she calls a “coat.” She removes the next layer, too, and hands it to me.
“For…chest?” I hold the small garment up to my pectorals, amused. We are not nearly close in size, Dakota and myself. This might fit over one arm.
She makes a face at me and grabs the long dangly parts on the sides—sleeves, I remember—and ties them to my waist. The front part flaps and covers my cock, once again proving just how protective she is of me as her territory.
I do not mind. These small moments when she asserts her ownership over me are my favorite ones.
Dakota adjusts the material around my hips, then gives me a little pat and steps back. She puts her coat back on and eyes me as she does. “Not cold?”
I shrug. I do not have the words yet for “the breeze is annoying but I am fine.” “Dragon warm. Always warm.”
“You should change to dragon, then.”
Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with my claws, I grin at her. “Later.”
She blushes furiously, my human, and it only makes me grin wider. It is fascinating that she thinks the others have no idea about us. That we meet in Dakota’s bed every night for kissing and caressing before she curls up into my arms and goes to sleep. That she is covered in my scent and touches me constantly, and we spend all of our time together. I only kiss her when we are alone, as I have been taught, but I do not mind if the others know how I feel about her.
I would make Dakota my mate, give her my bite, my fires. The only reason I have not? I want her to ask me first.
And she has not asked. She will kiss me happily, but she has not asked for more.
I must be content…
My nostrils prick as a strange scent fills the air. It is coming from inside the bookstore. Nostrils flaring, I move toward the front doors and nudge Dottie and Aggie aside. They move their folding chairs, complaining. Opening one of the doors, the scent grows even stronger, and I turn to the others. “I smell blood?”