Page 6 of Driven by Dragonblood (Blood Born #3)

Jaxon

T he first time I’d sat on Doc Holliday’s couch in his office, the box of tissues on the small table between us had mocked me.

Every scratch of his pen had made me want to snap the damned thing in two, and while I still hid my other half that always begged to come out and play, I no longer resented the doc or hated the months I’d been locked up.

I’d been on my best behavior this time around, even with Nurse Yum Yum, who continued to eye me like an ice cream sundae whenever she was working and making her rounds. Sure, I flirted—what healthy eighteen-year-old wouldn’t when a woman showed interest?

But I kept my hands to myself. Behaved, like she’d insisted on from day one, while gifting me candy for being a good boy, because freedom awaited.

The appeal I’d sent to the court system had come back in my favor, and since my three-month mark in the joint had come and gone, I would be released.

Add to that fact I’d turned eighteen two weeks prior and my parents were no longer my keepers, they didn’t get to dictate how I would live my life.

It was Monday morning, and in forty-eight hours, I would once more have access to my small trust fund and the freedom to seek out my destiny.

Which sure as fuck wouldn’t be in Phoenix.

The drive inside me to get started, the desire to find my place in this fucked-up world, owned my thoughts. Not my dick, but what else was new?

Doc Holliday had assured me I would be free to walk the fuck out of here, and I’d never been more grateful for a shrink in my life.

“We have our final meeting tomorrow at ten,” he told me, shifting through some papers atop his desk.

I sat still, hands in my lap, even though every atom in my body vibrated.

Escape now.

“I’ll have your belongings and the key to your apartment that I’ve procured for you. You’ll be free to leave of your own accord on Wednesday and start your new job next Monday.”

I wasn’t keen on bagging groceries, but it would keep me busy and hopefully out of trouble until I got my personal shit in order and decided on a real course of action.

I hadn’t gotten the chance to graduate like a normal kid, but nothing about me had ever been “normal.” I would get my GED someday and figure out the rest later.

Doc Holliday leaned onto his desk, his old face a wrinkly mess but eyes kind. “Are you sure you’re ready to be on your own, Jaxon?”

Yessss.

“Yep,” I answered with a firm nod. “And I appreciate all your help in finding me a place to stay.”

“It’s nearly an hour from here and isn’t much, just a studio apartment above a garage.”

“It’ll be mine ,” I insisted, the promise of freedom so damned sweet my mouth watered. I was used to being on my own since people always left when times got tough.

Not alone.

Doc Holliday stood and rounded his desk, holding out his hand and giving me something to focus on other than the voice inside me that never shut up.

I leapt up to my feet and clasped Doc’s hand with a firm grip. “Thanks again.”

“I’m sure you’ll be counting down the hours?—”

“Got that right,” I muttered.

“But try to get some rest, young man. I’ll see you in the morning for our final session together.”

Less than forty-eight hours until I could walk out of here a free man.

My new roommate snored like a madman, keeping me from that rest Doc Holliday had insisted I get. But even without the man enjoying his slumber beside me, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.

Energy-like vibrations lighting up my body had plagued me all day and still caused twitches to wrack through me. I swore wings stretched beneath the skin on my back, ready and willing to burst from my muscles and bones in order to get me the hell out from behind these bars.

Yessss.

My mind was fucked, just like Gramma’s had been—no fucking doubt.

Problem was, I didn’t feel mad. Rational in every other way, I struggled to make sense of him , the thing inside me that loved to whisper mischievous ideas, naughty thoughts about the opposite sex, and other tempting shenanigans that always ended up getting me into trouble .

I punched my pillow and groaned as my cock took interest in who the hell knew what. When my beast side was in the mood to fuck, my body responded. Horny fucker didn’t care which hole a female offered release in, but neither of us had yet to find real satisfaction nutting inside someone.

Blessed with my asshole father’s good looks and my mother’s smile, I didn’t have any trouble getting laid—another of the reasons my parents had sent me off to an all-boys school. Couldn’t lock my cock in my pants when it lusted to dip into a slick, tight pussy.

At least I’d learned to keep the voice to myself.

Not sharing his inner mutterings aloud had kept me pretty much on the safe side for years.

It was the damn joint I’d shared with a couple of friends my sophomore year that had landed me on a ledge, high as a fucking kite, sure I could fly like one, back in January.

At least my heart still beat, and I now had a chance to navigate my way through this life.

If I could get some damned sleep!

I clenched my eyes shut, wishing the snorer on the bed behind me would shut the fuck up already.

His mouth rumbled on every inhale—and exhale.

Growling, I squinted at the clock. 12:10 in the goddamn morning.

Soon, I wouldn’t have to put up with shitty roommates, shitty food, and this shitty mattress anymore, never mind the lumpy pillow beneath my head.

A shiver licked over my skin, and my cock bobbed as though someone had feathered their fingertips along its length.

“The fuck?” I grumbled quietly, grabbing myself beneath the sheet.

The hospital preferred we sleep clothed, but fuck that.

I couldn’t stand restrictions while I lay in bed.

Resting wouldn’t be an option until I blew the load simmering in my balls, though, so I stroked, wondering at the unusual abundance of pre-cum easing my movements.

I’d always been a leaker, but holy shit, the oozing from my slit made for one delicious glide up and down my shaft.

Blonde hair and caramel-colored eyes…

Grinning, I dove into my favorite fantasy, imagined my golden goddess on her knees, mouth wide open, begging for my cock on her salivating tongue. One night with her, and I would be ruined for life.

Own.

Breed.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I groaned, fucking up into my fist at the thought of doing both to her.

There would be no more countless, faceless women clutching at me while I rocked their worlds. My golden goddess would be lush, curves for days, perfect for plundering with my insatiable cock.

Sweet on our tongue.

Tight around our shaft.

“Fuck…”

My balls seized, and I shot my load down her imaginary throat—into my waiting hand. I breathed heavy from hardly any exertion and muttered a few curses. I’d never shot off so damn quick in my life.

Tingles still raced over my skin for the fiftieth time that day, but not the creepy ant-like feels a lot of my fellow inmates experienced.

Didn’t mean the docs hadn’t tried to force meds on me like the others when I’d first arrived.

I’d been medicated unwillingly before, and those were the times I did feel mad.

The lack of that being’s presence in my head was not normal.

One arm thrown over my forehead, I rolled to my back, my softening dick and a shit ton of spunk in my other hand. I would leave a nice mess on my sheets for housekeeping, but I didn’t give a fuck. It was what they were paid for.

Another wave of… whatever the fuck it was , slid along my body, pulling my eyelids open. I peered through the dark at the barred window on the other side of my noisy-assed roommate. Hardly any moon hung in the sky, so pure darkness coated the inky expanse beyond.

She’s leaving.

I blinked and frowned. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” I muttered, taking care to barely move my lips in case anyone watched, but the voice inside remained silent. Moments later, that weird energy vibe faded, but another hour passed before I drifted off to sleep.

I sauntered down the hallway for my last therapy hour with Doc in Lockwood ever again if I had any say.

Good man.

Yeah, I agreed with my beast, grinning around a yawn. Hadn’t slept worth a shit, but tomorrow I would be out of the psych ward, in my own goddamned bed.

The carpet beneath my bootied feet kept my footfalls quiet, and I soaked in the stillness, loving the lack of constant noise like in the hospital’s other wings.

It didn’t smell like bleach in here either.

I filled my lungs—and stumbled to a halt as the scent of smoke and sex flooded my lungs, twitching my dick to full wakefulness.

Yessss.

The fuck?

Brow furrowed, I glanced around, but the hallway was empty. Doc Holliday’s office door stood open a few feet in front of me, releasing more of what seemed a lot like pheromones to me .

Need.

My feet moved on their own, but I tucked my upright dick beneath my pants’ stretchy waistband while walking. Thank fuck for long shirts.

I pulled up short on the office’s threshold, but Doc Holliday’s desk chair sat empty. That smell, causing blood to throb through my groin, intensified. “Doc?” My voice, ragged as hell, half-squeaked his name, and I cleared my throat, hating that I sounded like a pubescent kid.

A gorgeous man I’d never seen before came into view from the left, a stack of files in his hands, and I soaked in the sight of him.

A tall drink of water on a hot-as-fuck day, he made me thirst like mad.

Black slacks, white button-down shirt open at the neck, checkered vest…

wide shoulders and scruff with a spattering of gray.

He had hair a tad too long for a professional, a strong nose, and dark blue eyes, which he attempted to hide behind dark-rimmed glasses…

Alpha.