Page 73 of Ronen
Mason shifted, and my badger tumbled down, scrambling for purchase against Mason’s skin, before landing nimble on the ground.
“Fucking hell!” he yelled, jumping back. “That hurts!”
Shifting back to my human skin, I faced him, both of us naked, hands on my hips. “We want to fly!”
I resisted the urge to stamp my foot, on the verge of throwing a tantrum.
“I knew what you wanted, and it’s not happening,” Mason started pulling on his clothes with jerky movements.
“Why not?” I pouted.
He gave me a look that said he thought I was nuts.
“Why not? How about because you’re pregnant. I don’t have anything to strap you onto me, to keep you from falling.”
Shaking my hands at him, fingers extended like claws, I reminded him, “I have sharp claws to hang on.”
“Don’t remind me,” he rubbed at his thigh. “You nearly tore me open. And not good enough. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”
Oh. Well. When he put it like that…all my anger left in rush.
“Will you one day? When I’m not pregnant?” I started pulling on my own clothes. Mason was absolutely right, I shouldn’t have even engaged the idea without thinking about our baby. I’d just been so excited to see a real life dragon, the thought of flying on him had taken over my common sense.
Mason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, the took my face in both his hands and cradling it softly.
“Let me see if Connor has any ideas on something that would work. He sometimes makes custom saddles and stuff. We might be able to come up with something. But,” he tapped the end of my nose with his finger, “not until after the baby is born. And only if we find something that is safe.”
“Thank you,” Standing on my tip toes, I gave him a quick kiss. “Your dragon is beautiful.”
Mason shook his head ruefully as we walked over to his truck. “You’re going to be the death of me, my little daredevil. Flying on my dragon. I should have guessed that was going to be a thing.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ronen
“Holy shit, don’t look now, Ro,” Emily whistled through her teeth, several weeks later.“But I do believe your cowboy has come to call.”
“What on earth are you going–” Looking up from the computer, I stopped mid-sentence, all the words I knew flying out of my brain, leaving me with absolutely nothing. No words. None at all.
Mouth suddenly dry, I licked my lips, staring at the tall, cool drink of water that had just sauntered into my library.
The only reason I had even spoken out loud to Emily was because it was five minutes to closing, and I had just done my rounds, checking for any patrons who might still be here. There hadn’t been any, so I had felt confident responding to Emily without anyone hearing me.
“Fucking hell,” I breathed, blinking in case what I was seeing was a mirage, or some pregnancy hormone induced hallucination.
Mason winked at me, his luscious lips curved up into a wicked grin.
His cowboy boots clicked across the tiled floor, his hat low on his head, casting shadow across his face.
But that wasn’t what had my chest moving up and down too rapidly, or my cock hardening in my slacks, or my slick dampening my backside. My hole throbbed with need as I stared at my mate with wide eyes.
Mason was wearing his dark brown duster coat, and by the smile on his lips and the gleam in his amber eyes, he knew just how it was affecting me.
The material hugged his wide shoulders and fell to mid-calf–bare mid-calf–and I wanted to reach out and touch him.
Wanted to slide each button, one by one, out of their holes to reveal his flesh beneath the material.
Mason glanced left then right, before quietly asking, “Are we alone?”
