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surface Kenna wondered how she remained human. Every fiber in her body demanded
she fly back to Rick now and beg him to make love to her. To continue their mating. Her
flesh prickled with heat and her heart raced with want.
Her brain, however& well, at least part of her dual existence knew what to do.
Stay away from him.
Arrest him.
Kill him.
Her gut didn t just twist on that last thought, it rolled. She couldn t kill him. She
knew that. But she could hate him. Hate him for what he d turned out to be. And she
did. Damn it, she did.
Which is why you can t stop aching for him, yes? Why you feel so wretched?
The faint sound of a toilet flushing in the house before her tweaked Kenna s strung
nerves and she watched the curtains move again a minute shift before silent stillness
claimed the residence again. There was no other activity in the neighborhood. Not too
surprising, given that it was now well past midnight.
She flicked a quick look at the clothes hanging on the line. A pair of men s
camouflage pants, a child s Elmo t-shirt, some underthings none of them a bra a
fluorescent-pink pair of shorts also belonging to a child and a black thing that may or
may not be a shirt made for the Hulk. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth,
studying each item. There wasn t much to choose from, but it was better than nothing.
Which was what she currently wore.
Let s hope to God G.I Joe and the Hulk don t mind me borrowing.
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How to Love Your Dragon
The thought danced through her head, flippant and cheeky. A Rick Hayes response
to the situation if ever there was one.
Kenna closed her eyes for a second, biting back a curse. Or a sigh. Damn it, the
bastard had gone and imprinted himself on her psyche.
Her belly flip-flopped again, her chest tightened and her sex tingled.
Face it, Kenna. You fell in love with your Fire Mate and now you have to live with that.
She opened her eyes and stared at the clothes. True. But she didn t have to live with
him. When she got home, she was buying a one-way ticket to New Zealand. She d heard
the New Zealand police force was screaming for new officers. Transferring from Sydney
should be a breeze. If it wasn t, she d become a dog walker.
And that s your answer? To run away? Again?
She ground her teeth, ignoring the biting thought.
Inside her, aching for release again, her dragon roared.
With one last look at the silent house, she counted to three then sprinted across the
backyard for the clothesline, the bloody gash in her shoulder throbbing the whole way.
Pegs went flying as she yanked the camouflage pants and black shirt from the line.
One hit the side of the house with a thwack, but Kenna didn t wait to see if anyone came
to investigate. She ran back to the protective cover of the hedge, ducking behind it just
long enough to slip her legs into the trousers and tug the shirt over her head. Both
swam on her. With furious haste, she knotted the waistline of the shirt at her belly but
there was nothing she could do about the pants. They hung so low on her hips her
pubic hair was almost visible.
For a dizzying second the memory of Rick pressing his face to the junction of her
thighs assaulted her, and then she was running again. Past the side of the house, over
the front fence and onto the quiet street.
She had to get home.
Fly. Fly and swoop and soar and
She bit back a groan, refusing to listen to the suggestive call. She was done with
being seduced by her dragon s existence and everything that came with it.
Thirty minutes later, she was done with running. Her bare feet were sore and her
unrestrained breasts ached. She wasn t unfit, but she wasn t built to run for so long
without a bra or shoes. And the still-weeping wound didn t help. The more she ran, the
faster her blood flowed, dripping down her arm. She was surprised her head wasn t
spinning. It would be quicker if she called her station and asked for someone to collect
her, drive her home, but the questions she d have to field if she did&
How did she explain her state of dress? The bloody cut on her shoulder? The
absence of her handbag?
Her feet stumbled. Her bag& hell, her keys and car were all back at Rick s. Damn it.
Get them later. Stake out his home, break in and get them when he goes to work.
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Lexxie Couper [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]