Page 10 of Dragon Unleashed
He grins down at me and then undoes the button of his jeans. I’ll do anything for him. On my knees, my back—whatever he desires, so long as he gives me the one thing I’ve never been able to find.
Connection.
I’m so wrapped up in the story, I almost miss the book that rattles to my left. When the movement catches my eye, I stop, turn, and swallow hard as it continues to move, jostling the books beside it.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I mutter as I glare at the leather-bound volume boasting the titleSea Monster. Which, let’s be fair, is reason enough to hurry and shut the thing up.
With my non-coffee hand, I reach out and press my finger against the book’s spine, whispering the word that will seal it shut. “Clauseruntque.”
The book goes still just as the story I’m listening to picks up. Shit, I’m practically salivating at this point.
"I want to see that glorious body of yours,” Michael demands.
“Anything for you.”
With the misbehaving book back in its place, I take another sip of pumpkin spice—it's important to reward oneself for a job well done—and keep walking. While I keep a careful eye trained on the shelves, I listen with rapt attention to the scene playing out in my ear. The male continues questioning the heroine as he removes his pants. She swears—again—that she’s not spying. He demands that she strip to prove she’s not wearing a wire.
Uh-huh. Perfect sexy scene set-up.
I turn the corner to the next row of shelves, completely caught up as the man watches her remove her clothing. Sensually, of course.
When she’s stripped down to nothing but her bra and panties, she stops. He growls for her to keep going. She refuses.
I turn down another aisle.
Mermaid section.
This area is usually pretty quiet. Maybe the characters inside know they’d be escaping to an atmosphere their gills can’t handle. Whatever the reason, this section is usually my easiest.
Unconcerned, I quicken my pace, as the audiobook continues to build the heat.
“You have the body of a goddess,” Michael tells me. And with the heat in his eyes, I believe him.
He reaches out and slips a finger beneath the lace panties I wear. Then, without asking for permission, he yanks and tears them from my body.
I gasp.
He slides a finger over me and moans. “So ready for me, Dee. So, damned ready.”
The tension is ridiculous, and I decide right here and now to never settle for a guy who won’t rip my panties off.
Ugh. Not that I know where to find one. And if I don’t get access to those portals soon, I may never get the chance to look. Hoc’s protectiveness is best described as Hoc-blocking.
I take another sip of my latte, sinking back into the story and living out my sex life vicariously through fictional characters.
A noise from up ahead snaps me out of it.
I hurry toward the creatures of the air section in time to see another book rattling.
The wyvern. Again.
This book likes to cause trouble, but tonight it seems especially full of itself.
The woman in my ear whimpers as the man yanks off her bra.
The book rattles harder.
Shit. Talk about a buzzkill.
