Page 36 of Kenna's Dragon

“No,” I murmur, leaning into him. “No problem.”

He growls low in his throat, puts a hand on the center of my back, and leads me out of the bar. When the cool night air breaks over my too-hot skin, it raises a wave of pleasurable goosebumps up and down my exposed arms.

“So, are we taking a cab? Or do I get the pleasure of being wrapped up in those claws of yours again?”

One of these times, I’m going to push too far, tease him a little too much, but now is not that time. Well, at least I don’t think it is, and if the way Blair rounds on me with that smirk of his growing even wider is any sign, he’s more amused than annoyed.

“I do drive, you know.”

I look him up and down. “You’re alright for that? Weren’t you already drinking tonight with—”

“Ari doesn’t drink,” he cuts in. “So I wasn’t, either. And I barely had two sips of my whiskey.” He pauses and thinks for a moment, and his smirk fades. “What about you? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“I’m fine.” I barely touched my own drink in the bar, and the buzz from earlier has already faded.

“Kenna,” his voice is low, a warning. “I want you sober for this. I won’t take anything less than a clear-headed, enthusiastic yes from you.”

The words make my breath stutter in my chest.

There’s a whole fucking lot of men out there who wouldn’t give a damn if I’d had one drink or three or seven. I met enough of them in my partying days, and know just how quickly those lines can blur. To have it laid out so simply, so clearly, with no room for argument or shades of hazy gray makes me even more certain of what I’m about to do.

Truly, the bar is in hell for men sometimes, but something tells me Blair means every word he says. Whatever this is, whatever we are to each other, he’s not going to take anything I don’t give freely and willingly.

And fuck, do I want to give it.

“One cocktail at the first bar I went to tonight,” I tell him, reaching up to run a hand along one of his lapels. “And I had just as much of my drink in there as you did yours.”

He catches my wrist in his hand, pulling it away from his jacket before brushing a kiss across the backs of my knuckles. “Alright then ember, let’s go.”

The drive from downtown to the Victorian passes in record time. We don’t talk much, and Blair seems focused on getting to my place as quickly as possible without breaking any traffic laws, keeping a hand on my knee the whole time. When we park a half-block away, I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for my door handle, only for the dragon beside me to squeeze my knee a little harder and grunt his disapproval.

“What?” I ask, arching a brow at him.

“Let me get that for you.”

I roll my eyes. “Not necessary.”

Before he can give me any more grief, I open the door and let myself out. It’s even cooler now than it was when we left the bar, and I shiver a little as the night air brushes against my skin.

“I’m just up the street,” I tell him as he gets out of the car and joins me on the sidewalk.

There’s a crackling, static energy between us as we walk together to the house. We’re not even touching, but the warmth of him beside me and the weighted possibility of everything waiting for us inside almost makes it feel like we are.

We reach the steps up to the wide front porch, he puts his hand in the center of my back, and all that static energy gathers and grows. Warm and anticipatory, it has me fighting the urge to arch into his touch.

As I pull my keys from my purse and reach for the door, Blair is right there. He crowds in behind me, running his hands over the curve of my waist in a way that’s distracting enough for me to fumble with the lock. He doesn’t seem to care, though, as he leans in to graze his lips along the back of my neck and chuckles against my skin.

I let out an irritated breath as I finally get the key in the lock and open the door, letting us both inside.

Blair freezes just inside the entryway. I glance over my shoulder at him from where I’m locking the door behind us, and his brow is lowered, gaze dark.

“It smells like other males in here.”

I snort. “Yeah. I’m sure it does. My bear shifter and vampire roommates are both dudes.”

A small growl slips past his lips.

“Cut it out,” I snap at him. “The bear shifter is very, very into his nymph girlfriend and the vampire’s got a rotation of incredibly hot, single men he keeps on speed dial.”

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