Page 14 of Dragon Rivals of New York (Dragons of New York #3)

Chapter 14

Sora

J ethro and I spend all day in bed, eating, watching movies, talking, having sex. It’s uneventful, but it’s everything I want. I feel a little bad that I ruined his plans—because I know he planned something more than staying in bed all day—but I love that he changed course for me.

By the time he suggests going out to dinner, I’m ready to get out of the house. But I make him promise we won’t go anywhere too expensive. A difficult promise for a man like Jethro. He likes extravagance and excess. As evidenced by the giant walk-in closet he just led me into. Giant is an understatement. It’s bigger than my entire apartment.

“Don’t get mad,” he says.

“Why would I get mad about your closet?” Feeling a slight chill from the vent overhead, I tighten the tie on the terry-cloth robe I’m wearing .

“This isn’t my closet.”

I tilt my head, inspecting the rakes of hanging clothes. Women’s clothes. My gut burns, and I clench my teeth as I try to control my anger. “I’m not wearing left over clothes from your conquests! I’d rather go to dinner in an old shirt of yours.”

“That can be arranged.” He smirks. “But these aren’t clothes from other women.”

My brows pinch together.

“Mmmm, I do like knowing you feel some of the possessiveness the mating bond elicits in dragons.”

“Speaking of which, why don’t you get all possessive like that when I’m with Kyro?”

“I do, a little, but it’s different with him. I think it’s because I know the goddess wants us all to be together. That the two of you also share a mating bond.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Now, tell me whose clothes these are?”

“This is your wardrobe.”

“Mine?” I step backwards, retreating. “Unbelievable.” I shake my head and turn around, stomping out of the closet.

“What?” Jethro rushes in front of me, taking hold of my shoulders to stop me. “What did I do? Why are you upset, lovely? Tell me, please.”

“You got me an entire wardrobe to make sure I reach your standards. Because my clothes aren’t good enough. Are you going to pick out what I wear every day too?” Manny used to put out outfits for me when we had date nights. He always picked my least favorite things.

“Oh, Ara’ha, no. That’s not what this is at all.” He leads me back into the closet by the shoulders and gets me to sit on a plush ottoman covered in velvet. “Whenever I felt sad about you rejecting me, I bought something for you.” He kneels in front of me.

“I didn’t reject you. I just didn’t want to get married the day after we slept together or jump into a relationship.”

He cracks a thin smile. “I know. But it felt like rejection to my dragon nature.”

“Wait, this closet is full of clothes. There are hundreds of outfits in here.” Not to mention the rack of shoes lining the floor and the case of jewelry in the back. He must have bought at least one thing a day for the past year, maybe more than one a day.

He drops his forehead to my knees and blows out a breath .

We’re silent for a beat, and then he lifts his head, smiling. “If you say no to becoming a dragon, I’ll probably have to buy an entire department store and send you something every day for the rest of your life.”

I can’t help laughing at his ridiculousness.

“Or I’ll just get you to fall in love with me again and again every day like that movie… what was it? 50 First Dates.”

“I thought it was against dragon law to contact a mate who’d rejected the pools.”

He shrugs. “Should we find something you like to wear to dinner? Your choice.” He holds his hands up, palms first. “I won’t make any suggestions or comments other than to say how beautiful you look, because it’s the truth. You look beautiful in anything and everything and nothing at all.” He wiggles those expressive eyebrows, but then turns serious. “I would never try to control what you wear or anything else, and I’d never feel embarrassed by you, no matter what you wear.”

“So I could really just wear one of your shirts out and about New York and you wouldn’t mind?” I try to call his bluff.

“I adore the idea of you walking around in my clothes so the entire world can see you’re mine.”

I guess he’s the one calling my bluff.

“Alright, where are we going? How should I dress?”

“However you like.” He tugs at the tie on my robe. “I have two places in mind. One is very ritzy and would allow me to spoil you. The other would shock Kyro, and I’d very much like to see the look on his face it earns.”

“The second,” I say immediately.

Jethro smiles. “It’s going to push your boundaries a bit. Definitely a new experience for you.”

“All the more reason.” I smirk and drop my robe. “Now, what do I wear?”

“I thought you wanted to pick it out yourself.”

“I do, but I also want your help.” I kiss his cheek before turning to look at the rows and rows of clothes.

“In that case…” Jethro walks to a dresser at the back of the room. He slides open a drawer and starts gathering up a collection of items. I can’t tell much about them from here, apart from the fact that the fabrics are all silks and leathers and lace. Sexy fabrics.

Then he pulls a few hangers, each with a short skirt hanging from them. Some in leather, some jean, one velvet. Next, he grabs three black dresses.

Arms loaded with clothes, he comes back to the ottoman and spreads out ten different outfits. None of it’s overly fancy, but it’s all more risque than I usually wear. A lot more risque. And I kind of like that.

He cracks open a bottle of champagne as I give him a little fashion show in the closet. Trying on clothes devolves into rough sex against the mirror, and soon it’s well past nine o’clock.

“Perfect,” Jethro says. “This isn’t the kind of place you go to early in the evening.”

I’m curious, but I kind of like it being a surprise, so I don’t ask. In the end, I settle on a strapless black dress that’s longer and looser than the other things he pulled out for me, but the plunging neckline still makes it the sexiest thing I’ve ever worn. I’ve always had breasts other girls envied and men desired, and this dress really shows them off.

Jethro looks me over appreciatively. “We better go before I throw you against the mirror again.”

“You still need to get dressed.”

He’s been naked since last night. Not even wearing boxers when he cooked breakfast. I’m almost getting used to it, but not quite.

“We’re flying.” He says simply. Then he walks out of the closet and through a door on the other side of the bathroom that I didn’t notice before. Another closet. Just as big as the one we were just in.

He throws a few things into a leather satchel, then shifts into his dragon form right there in his bedroom. He pushes a button on the wall with his nose—snout?—and the sliding glass doors open.

He drops his head, and I climb onto his back. And then we’re in the air, headed toward New Jersey.