Crush Page 7

  Nate didn’t speak or appear to breathe. She watched him grow still and visibly struggle with speech. “That’s…” He took a drink. “Is someone going to bust in and roast me after all?”

  “No.” Astrid shook her head quickly. “My grandmother knows you’re here and said she wouldn’t tell the guys.”

  “The first lady. You know, you don’t look the same as you did when you used to visit them in the White House. I remember seeing you on television when they were married.”

  “Yeah.” Astrid’s hair had been longer, much longer, and she’d filled out into a woman in the past few years, no longer resembling a coltish, pre-teen with gangly limbs and a flat chest. She’d been proud to develop breasts finally, even if her father lamented and pretended to weep when she and her mother came home with her first bras.

  “Are you going to roast me?”

  “No. No roasting from me,” she said in a vague reply. “So, I wanted you to know, and I understand if that changes things. For you, I mean.”

  “No, it’s not a big deal. I mean it is, but it isn’t,” Nate corrected himself. After an awkward lull, he jumped to his feet and set aside his empty plate. “You ready to swim?”

  “Isn’t there a thirty-minute rule?” she asked weakly.

  “Myth.”

  He took it in stride, startling her with his unfazed reaction to her secret. She’d had boyfriends in the past who figured it out on their own, but they’d always changed afterward. She became a tool to achieve their goals instead of a girlfriend to cherish.

  Nate wouldn’t be one of those people. She felt it in her heart, but most of all, she prayed to her ancestors that he truly was the one meant for her. Her soul mate. All of her life, she’d been surrounded by adults who treated their mates with profound respect and unconditional love. Now Astrid wanted it for herself.

  “Give me a moment to change,” she told him.

  Before he could reply, she sprinted away into a bathroom and stripped out of her clothes. Toni and Melanie had chosen the bikini, black boy shorts with a pearl pink bandeau. She wiggled into it, pulled her hair back and plaited it into a single braid, and then emerged to find he’d beaten her outside.

  Nate waited for her on the patio in his shorts, his body bronzed and muscular with broad shoulders and a trim waist. She imagined running her fingers down the muscular contour and watched in appreciation while he remained blissfully unaware.

  “I’m all finished,” she announced, prompting him to turn.

  “It’s about time,” he began to tease. “I thought you’d run off to buy a swimsuit before…” His voice trailed as he turned to see her.

  “What?” During their first beach date, she’d worn a single piece with a revealing high cut above her hips and a playful but plunging neckline. It had revealed as much, if not more.

  Less than twenty yards away, waves crashed over the beach. Their private yard provided a small area of sand free from the random passersby, a haven where she’d played as a child. Now the twins and her brother Brandt played together in the same sand. She’d brought them all herself one weekend and ran them tired for an afternoon while her parents and grandparents enjoyed time alone.

  “Just admiring the view,” Nate replied. He flashed her a cocky grin. “We going out there or not?”

  A gate led to the public beach beyond. It was far from crowded, and only a few people had staked out seats further down the sandy stretch, giving a sense of privacy.

  “Lemme think…” She feigned deep thought for a few seconds, only to take off in a mad dash for the water. “Last one in does the dishes!”

  Swearing, Nate bolted after her for the shoreline. “Cheater!” he called.

  “Hey, don’t cry because you’re too slow—oh!” Her lead on him evaporated. She’d expected him to be fast, but he closed the distance before she had the chance to find her stride. He caught up to her when they reached the shallows where the waves swept in and out, lapping warm water against their knees. Before she could escape and hurry into the open water, strong arms surrounded her. Nate lifted her in an effortless swing.

  “Who’s crying?” he asked.

  “How’d you catch up to me so fast!” Astrid cried, startled. She groped at Nate with both hands and curved her arms around his neck. Impulsively, she wrapped her legs around him too and hung on.

  Their eyes met and their gazes held, faces close.

  Astrid had never seen eyes so beautiful. As she stared into them, she felt bare and exposed, stripped down to her emotions, as if every thought she’d ever had for Nate had glided to the surface for him to read.

  Maybe they had. In the next moment, he claimed her mouth, curving one hand beneath each of her thighs for support as he tasted her lips. A trace of his tongue coaxed them to part, to yield to him, infused with sweet hints of coconut and rum.

  A part of her screamed inwardly in triumph, her dragon recognizing its mate. The one. Nate urged, and she yielded, lips parting so her tongue could sweep in and tangle with his. With no one present to stare, she surrendered to the moment. It was her and him. No one else. He tasted like their drinks, but also something else. Something rich and new, deep and mysterious. Heat pooled in her gut, spiraling down to her core and spreading out to every limb.

  Suddenly, she wished they’d stayed at the house.

  ***

  Astrid was the softest woman ever to throw herself into his arms. She’d crushed against him, lotion-scented skin, and scant Lycra molded over subtle curves. Falling for her hadn’t been part of his assignment, and now that it had happened, he couldn’t undo it.

  His hand glided over her thigh until he found her swimsuit bottom. He squeezed a handful of flesh and delighted in the way she moaned against his mouth.

  Now he needed the cold water to hide the way she’d affected him. All pretenses and attempts to conceal his interest would become a dismal failure if she slid a hand between them and felt with her fingers.

  When the kiss ended, he felt drunk, his brain too foggy to comprehend the motions needed for swimming. Thankfully, they were in the shallows with the surf crashing in and flooding out around his knees.

  Kissing her heightened all sensations—the warmth of the sun, the kiss of the cool breeze whispering across his skin, and the tug and pull of the waves. Every experience intensified from the smell of salt and her skin filling his nostrils to her sweet taste overwhelming his senses.

  Her eyes shone in the sunlight when they broke apart. Blue. The most dazzling blue, a sapphire jewel held in daylight.

  Kissing her had been better than he’d imagined. He’d been positive he could remain neutral with his affections, maintaining a friendship without necessarily leading her on. A single kiss had abolished everything.

  Nate claimed her mouth again, showing the restraint and tenderness he’d lacked before. The semi-private beach wasn’t secluded enough to allow him to indulge in the fantasies in his head.

  “Worth it,” he murmured against her lips. When he leaned away, tilting his head back to look at her, he saw the telltale glint in her eyes, the ethereal shift of color, and instead of disgust, he felt only fascination. “You’re beautiful.”

  He didn’t know what made him say it. Beauty was a word she’d probably heard attributed to her looks since she was born, but it came out in a rush. Impulsive. For a moment, he thought he saw her and the dragon contained by her human flesh.

  He’d been careful with her, reminded always they were from different worlds, and that duty took precedence over pleasure. Each of Astrid’s hugs and smiles chipped away at his resolve. Were they so different? It plagued him, making him wonder if any of his fellow slayers ever questioned their duties.

  He and many of the younger ones wouldn't regain their true memories until they slew their first dragon, and doing that meant taking a life. The life of a dragon with a family, a lover, or even children. Someone like Astrid’s father.

  Without speaking a word, Astrid kissed him again, each moment as slow
and sweet as the last. He savored each second as she ran her fingers over his closely trimmed hair and down his nape to the back of his shoulders.

  Centuries ago, as a knight, he’d sworn to uphold a chivalrous code of duty against her kind, and yet he’d found no monsters in the Drakenstone family, only a gentle-hearted girl who cared about her loved ones. A girl who pleaded for him to brake so she could move a turtle to the other side of the road. Who took in homeless kittens and fostered them in her free time. And his dog Echo loved her.

  The traitor rolled on her back for belly rubs whenever Astrid was near.

  He ended one kiss with another, finding his thirst for her insatiable, unable to resist the lure of each subsequent taste of her lips. Finally, with a distressed sound in his throat, he forced himself to stop, arousal surging hard and heavy in his swim trunks.

  “Sorry.” She dragged in a shaky breath and dropped her forehead to his shoulder.

  The waves rushed warm around their legs when he lowered her. He inhaled both the scents of her and the ocean and gave an uncertain smile. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who mauled you. I think. Hell if I can remember anything before it now.”

  “I think we both were equal in the mauling department,” Astrid said. She took his hand and tugged him further out into the water until they were a hip deep. Only then did she release him so she could fall back and give a splashing kick, grinning before she ducked beneath the water and swam perpendicular to the shore.

  The shoreline wasn’t as clear as the endless blue ocean he’d fallen in love with during his deployments, but he saw her silhouette ahead of him until he broke the surface. He’d eased out into deeper water where his feet no longer touched the sand. Treading in place, he grinned. “How strong of a swimmer are you? I guess that doesn’t matter for you, though.”

  “What do you mean?” She had surfaced a few feet away, treading water easily.

  Their make-out session may have scrambled his brains. “If your father’s a dragon, doesn’t that mean you’re…?” He trailed off and glanced away in discomfort. Suddenly, his probes for answers felt inappropriate. He no longer wanted to know the truth about Astrid-the-possible-dragon. He wanted to get to know Astrid-the-girl.

  “You want to know if I’ll become a legendary monster, too,” she said in a flat tone.

  “Sorry, I just assumed with your dad being a dragon, you’d be one, too. We don’t have to talk about it,” he quickly said, only for her to provide the intelligence the slayers had sent him to attain.

  “I am. I’m a dragon like my dad.”

  His expression must have changed, because hers did as well, though his attempt to release her from the conversation had become more truthful with each word. Turmoil rolled in his gut, the lighthearted enjoyment of their date threatened by his curiosity.

  She ducked down beneath the surface again and came back up closer to shore. The waves rolled around her hips as she walked onto firm footing, a playful school of silver fish darting between her legs.

  Nate waited for her to speak first, and when she didn't, he rushed after her. The water tugged at his board shorts, weighing them and the rest of his body down when he emerged from the water. In a few of his longer strides, he closed the distance and wrapped an arm around her waist from behind. “Hey. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “Why? You deserve to know. It wouldn’t be fair for you to find out later and have a freakout.” She forced a smile to her face, but the strain showed. “Like I said, I like you, and it’d be horrible of me to keep something as big as that from you if things progress further. Trust me. I’m used to it.”

  “I’m not freaking out,” he lied. The freaking had nothing to do with her revelation and everything to do with determining what to do with the information. Technically, she hadn’t confirmed Chloe was her biological mother. The big truth, the greatest question the slayers needed to know, was whether dragons were impregnating human women.

  His left arm joined the other, trapping her back to his chest, palms flat against her skin. The tension melted from her stiff body and her lean curves settled in against his harder angles. “So... not worried I’m going to roast you?”

  “More worried about your old man than you.” He nudged his hips forward, then cursed himself. He was hard again, so impossibly hard the strain almost hurt. His breath skimmed over her ear, and he kissed the gentle pink curve. Now that he’d taken the first nip of forbidden fruit, he couldn’t stop.

  “My dad’s a pussycat once you get to know him,” she assured him.

  “We don’t have to talk about it at all if you prefer. I…” Liked her, too. And he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. It would make the situation and his conflict all the more real.

  “No, I don’t mind. It’s who I am, and it’d be like saying I don’t want to know anything about your Navy life.” She rubbed back against him and made a small sound, part whimper and part moan.

  Her moan did something to him, and his cock twitched, jumping beneath the sodden board shorts. All he could imagine was peeling her bottoms free.

  For their sanity, he separated their bodies first, using willpower he hadn't known he possessed. He joined their hands instead, the gesture familiar and fond. “My Navy days aren’t the best conversation material, to be honest, and some of the better stories are more depressing than anything. My job puts me all over, and I usually end up dealing with idiots.” The shift in conversation helped get his mind off his dick.

  “Idiots, right.” She chuckled. “So why security? I mean… what made you pick that over something technical?”

  “It’s what my dad did, and his dad before him. We have a long history of military police in my family, so it was expected that I follow in their footsteps.” There were no pleasant words to describe Kay. The man loathed all things supernatural, while refusing to acknowledge their own magical origins. If not for Merlin, they would all be long dead. There’d be no memories and circle of reincarnation.

  The thought put a frown on Nate’s face until he glanced at the sun and saw it had barely moved since their return to the sand. The breeze and summer heat dried the skin on his shoulders and freckled back while his brow wrinkled with consternation.

  “Oh. But do you like it?

  “I…” Did he? Most of his life had been what his father wanted for him. He lived by tradition, expectation, and understanding of who he was, or who he would become once he fully reawakened his dragon-slaying abilities. Did he like that part of himself? Not anymore. In as little as a month, Astrid had changed everything and provided a sense of humanization he hadn’t wanted. Didn’t need. Life had made sense before.

  “No,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I mean, I do enjoy life in the Navy, and I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I just think I might have chosen differently with my career path if Dad wasn’t hell-bent on it.”

  Astrid led the way back into the private yard with its little stretch of beach. They used the outdoor shower to rinse the sand and salt from their bodies before they wandered inside.

  “I’m going to go change back into dry clothes. We can watch a movie if you want,” she suggested.

  “Sounds good.”

  In the safety of the guest room, he peeled off his wet clothes and asked himself what the hell he was doing. Astrid was amazing, but she was also his assignment, and he’d compromised himself completely.

  A tidy row of silver-framed photographs lined the antique dresser. One in particular caught his eye, and he stopped to squint at an image of Chloe Drakenstone holding a newborn against her chest. The room lacked hospital equipment, but her exhausted smile and sweat-slicked hair painted a portrait of recent childbirth.

  Astrid was born from a dragon and a human woman. And he was falling in love with her.

  He took an extra minute to clear his head before he stepped from the room. He found Astrid in the kitchen making fresh drinks, but she turned her cheek up for him to greet her with a kiss when he stepped alongside her. Th
e skirt of her white dress skimmed her legs at mid-thigh, drawing his gaze down and back up again.

  “I thought, after all that talk, some Bahama mamas were in order. I also queued up the family’s Ultraviolet account. See if there’s anything you’d like to watch.”

  He glanced into the living room and whistled. An impressive selection spanned the television, and more movies disappeared below the edge of the screen. He’d seen most with the exception of a few newer titles. “Pick something?”

  “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

  He chose a superhero flick, compromising on a combination of action and romantic subplot, and he found himself drawn into the movie with his attention divided between the woman cuddled to his side and the extraordinary special effects. While there was plenty of room on the sofa, they squeezed together closely, and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

  Superheroes fascinated him. It’s what the Knights of Merlin ought to have been, seekers of justice and righteous knights fighting against evil. He sometimes wondered how he’d felt in previous lives. How many undocumented dragons had he killed? Had any been friends of Astrid’s family and beloved by them? And most of all, he wondered, if one of the other slayers had been assigned his special job, would they still be able to see her as only a beast to be put down instead of a caring individual with a love for defenseless animals.

  About thirty minutes into their movie, Astrid’s stomach made an obnoxious, yet adorable grumble.

  “That was man-sized,” he commented while she flushed bright red. “Or should I say dragon-sized?”

  “Definitely not dragon-sized.”

  Grinning, Nate hit the pause button and rose from his seat. “We were outside for hours, and we swam for most of it. I’d say a movie time snack is justified.”

  Outside, the sun was a hazy blend of gold against a deep cobalt sky. By the time the movie ended, it’d be a good hour to drive home, and his muscles were already stiffly protesting their long afternoon of activity. “If your folks are the kind to keep chips and cheese, we can make some decent nachos with the leftovers.”