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“S hould I cook or something ? I feel bad that I’m not contributing.”

“Don’t you guys have a cook?” Graham asks, flipping steaks in a cast iron pan.

“A maid, yes. A cook, no. My mom still loved to cook, and Ronnie said she was the greatest cook in the world. He liked to cook, too. They’d make big Sunday dinners every week, even if it was just for the three of us.” I finish setting the table and sit heavily in the chair. Working at the garden center is a good distraction. Looking at Graham is a good distraction. Thinking about what we did yesterday and might do again tonight is an epic distraction.

But then there are these lulls in the action, and I picture my mother running from thugs with guns, or being tied to a chair like a damsel in some old movie. I wonder if Ronnie will go to jail one day and break my mother’s heart. Will she end up in prison, too, on some kind of aiding and abetting charge?

I picture them in tiny cells, never cooking together again. Never even seeing each other again, and a sob spasms out of my chest in a single harsh burst.

Graham is at my side in less time than it takes to reach for a napkin. “Love, what’s wrong?” he asks.

I appreciate the sweet, protective side that he shows, looking around like he’s challenging the whole world to make a move on his mate. “I’m worried about my parents. What might happen to them. I... I want to be mad at Ronnie for being in this mess, and I am, but I’m also more worried about the fact that if he gets caught or killed, it’ll break my mom’s heart. She had so little happiness until she met him. He worshipped her. He doted on me.” I wipe my eyes and let myself go limp against Graham’s shoulder as he scoots a chair close to mine and holds me. “You two are similar in some ways. You want a wife and family so badly. So did he. He had never been married before, never had a kid. It was like at sixty he got a whole new lease on life, and so did my mom.” My fingers curl into a fist and then slam on the table. “Fuck it. My running off ruined everything for them.”

“Wheest, woman, you have a big heart there, but let’s not throw out all sense. Your mum wouldn’t want you to be miserable to save her happiness. She wouldn’t be happy if you were in some paper marriage with a pretty boy who slept around. She already had a rough first marriage, isn’t that what you told me?”

I nod.

“Aye, well. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone, then. She’d want you to marry a man who would make you steak and jacket potatoes, then take you on a romantic sightseeing tour of the mountains.”

I perk up a little. “Sightseeing? Tonight? It’s already after seven.”

“Then it’s a good thing the steaks are done so we can be in the air by eight.”

“Oh, sure. I—wait, in the air?”

***

I WRAP MY TAIL AROUND Angela’s waist, and this time, I can pick her up with it. I’m in my full dragon form once again, but this time, I’m not trying to hide it from her by turning in the middle of the night. This time, I lift her up gently and set her up high on my back, between my wings.

Angela shifts and shimmies on me, and I try to keep my thoughts on pure and innocent matters—but it doesn’t work. I can feel her gloriously curvy cheeks rubbing against my spine, feel her breasts on my back as she pulls herself into a comfortable position. I want to make love with my mate again. I want to feel her taking my cock and every drop of my cum like she did last night. If I breathe deep, I can still smell her arousal and my scent lathered all over her, the most powerful aphrodisiac ever known to dragonkind.

Finally, Angela finds a suitable spot, curled up between my wings and shoulders. “Oooh, I thought you’d be cool and cold, but you’re like a cozy blanket.”

“In this form, I do more than blow smoke; I can make fire. With a dragon, you’ll always have heat, a fire in the winter, a light in the dark.”

“You don’t have to sell me on you like some used car,” Angela laughs and rubs her fingers down my neck. She moans slightly, and I purr. “I love your scales.”

“That’s why you’re my perfect mate. Fools don’t appreciate them.” With a stretch of my neck and a beat of my wings, we rise. “Hold on and stay low. We’re not going to go too high—just enough to clear the trees.”

“Whoa, shouldn’t I have a saddle or reins or something?” Angela cries.

“The ridges that run along my neck might make good handholds,” I suggest, and Angela immediately clamps on.

It’s all I can do not to moan. The bony spurs she holds don’t usually feel soft, warm hands latched around them. She turns me into putty, this woman.

I’d best impress her so I can keep her.

***

“W E’RE GOING TO BUY those aviator goggles when we land, okay?” Angela shouts over the rush of wind my beating wings create.

We fly low and slow, probably being mistaken for a small plane or hovering helicopter. “Goggles? Why?”

“So I can enjoy flying without my eyes leaking so much! Graham! There’s something down there in the river.” Angela’s voice is shrill with excitement. “Are those dolphins this far inland?”

I look down. “Oh, no. Selkies.”

“What now?”

“Beings that can become seal or human. The selkies around here are an awfully tight-knit bunch. Like to live off the grid, but they’d come to help in an emergency. I ought to ask them if they can keep an eye out for suspicious watercraft, I suppose.”

“People can turn into seals?”

“And bears. Dragons. Pretty much any other animal, it just depends on your magical ancestry.”

“Do all humans have magical ancestry?”

“No, not really. And most magical types like to marry other magical types to keep a lower profile.”

“One day, you’re going to tell me all about this magical origin stuff, okay?”

I wind my long neck back to smirk at her. “One day, this is going to be part of your story. Okay?”

I love it when she blushes.

***

M Y LEGS DON’T HOLD me when I slide off of Graham’s neck. I stand, then topple to my knees, face windburnt, eyes leaking, laughing with a joy I never thought I’d feel again.

He is magical. He makes me forget the dangers around me.

He also plans the best dates. I sailed over the tippy tops of pine trees and felt mist on my face as I made a shadow on the moon. Saw selkies swimming up to the lake behind the woods of the White Pines estate.

“I’m dreaming, right? I was asleep and dreamed I rode a dragon through the sky, spoke to seal ladies, and touched some low-flying clouds?”

Graham picks me up, now in human form and wearing his long, battered black coat, but still so strong. He beams down on me. “Nope, you weren’t sleeping—but it is time for bed. It’s after midnight, and we have work at seven.”

***

I DON’T KNOW WHAT I was thinking would happen when Graham carried me in the house and up the stairs, all without huffing or puffing. His hand grabbed a possessive hold of my rear, and he gave the biggest contented sigh, which made me feel pretty damn good about the thing I’ve always been most self-conscious about.

“Would my little wren sleep in my nest tonight?” Graham asks at the top of the stairs.

“Sure,” I whisper, throat suddenly tight with anticipation. It’s been a day without more than a kiss and some sensual touches. I’m not sore anymore—just eager.

And curious. Will it always be Graham shifting into scales and horns? I wouldn’t complain.

But does the drop-dead gorgeous badboy want me, too? I’m cute, but... Well, that’s it. I’m cute, and I have a considerable amount of junk in my trunk. “Am I too heavy?” I blurt.

“What? You’re a little peanut of a thing.”

“I have a fat ass,” my inner saboteur becomes my outer saboteur.

“Oh, yes. You most assuredly do.” Graham sets me down, and this time he’s biting his lip in what I can only think is a lustful smile. He pulls his long, wind-tangled hair back in an elastic band from his coat pocket.

“And that’s okay with you?” I ask, stepping back.

The dragon man steps with me. I move left, and so does he, his smile growing. “Is my wren trying to fly away?”

“N-no. Aren’t wrens little, delicate birds?”

“Like my mate. Like my Angela,” he breathes out, catching my hands.

“With this butt?” I cry, one hand slapping down on my hip.

Graham’s smile suddenly snarls. “Did you see me complaining the other night?”

“Well, no, but—”

“That is prime real estate. Thick, luscious, grabbable ass. And it’s attached to the softest, warmest thighs. And I don’t know if you know this—” he pushes me lightly to the bed and drops to his knees in front of me, “but flying up that high makes my ears cold, and I’m in dire need of a way to warm them up.”

***

O H, MY LITTLE WREN makes the best noises when I bury my head between her thighs and devour her. I don’t have a tail to please her with in this form, but two fingers and an adoring mouth seem to work just fine. “Greedy little thing,” I purr as her walls grip my fingers. “Sucking on me like that. I’m pretty sure that means you’d like something bigger inside.”

“I want you inside,” Angela groans as I hammer my fingers inside of her, determined to get her to the peak before I give her my cock.

“Patience,” I tell both of us.

Angela squirms back from me, and I let her go with a frustrated huff. “I wasn’t done,” I insist.

“Cock. Mouth. Now.” She lies back and pats the space beside her head.

“But I’m not—”

“You’re never going to be a good manager if you don’t learn how to multitask,” Angela laughs and pulls my hand. “You keep doing what you’re doing while I return the favor,” she explains.

“Ohhh.” My face lights up. “I’m not usually so slow on the uptake. I’m just pussy drunk.” I give her a crooked grin and lick my lips, swinging my hips towards her head.

Angela smoothly swallows down my cock, which is smaller than in my dragon form, but still on the above average size for human men.

I don’t know if this is supposed to happen, but when Angela runs her tongue over my tip and drags her teeth lightly down the skin as her mouth moves up and down, my brain cuts out. Snaps off.

Angela could ask me for anything right now, and I’d say yes. “I love that,” I gasp. “Love you.”

I hear her splutter, but I don’t care, too busy returning to my work between her legs, now at a different angle. I suck on her clit as she sucks on my cock, both of us seemingly determined to get the other to combust—and I’m far too close for comfort on that score. In a few moments, I crash back to the bed and pull Angela on top of me, sitting her soaking pussy down on my length, making sure she takes every inch, feeling her heavy cheeks slapping against my thighs.

“Ohhh,” she lets out one long moan, and then starts rocking herself on me, guiding my cock to the place she wants me.

I slid one hand to her breast and one hand down to keep rubbing that soft, warm pussy that’s now one of my favorite spots on earth. “You know why I love you?” I pant as she rides me with short, shallow thrusts, more like gyrations.

“Why?” Angela pants, face a mixture of pleasure and confusion.

Maybe my brain isn’t disconnected. Maybe it’s finally focused on what matters. “When I’m with you—I’m a better person. When I’m with you, I think about what’s good in this world, instead of how it screwed me over. You make me happy. You bring back the warmth and softness dragons so often trade away.” I look into her eyes and let my hand knead the spot over her heart. “The best part is... this is only the third day I’ve known you. Can you imagine how much more I’m going to love you in a week? A month? A year?” I sit up and drag her down to me, kissing her hard in my excitement.

“People fall out of love, too,” Angela warns, but she doesn’t stop kissing me.

“That’s people,” I say. “Not dragons.”

“I’m a people! A person.”

“But you’re no ordinary person. You’re my treasure.”

“I—”

“Don’t make me bite you, Angela,” I warn, rolling her underneath me. I can’t pin her down as effectively as I did in halfling form, but I keep her trapped under me with a smile. I nibble at each breast as I give her what she wants—fast, deep strokes that make her hips buck to mine. “You’re my treasure. Say it.”

“Fine, fine! I’m treasure.”

“Nope. Say, ‘I’m Graham’s treasure.’”

“I’m Graham’s treasure.”

“Now, say you’re my mate.”

“Graham—”

“Say I’m your mate, or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“Wicked dragon,” she hisses as I suck her nipple deeply into my mouth.

“Say it, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll leave work early and go to the mall. You need new clothes anyway.”

“I’m not that pampered princess. I’m a smart, college-educated woman who wants a career. And a family,” Angela argues, but I can feel her trying to move against me to finally reach the orgasm that’s been building since I carried her upstairs.

“You are my pampered princess, and I’m your dragon. Now say you’re my mate, damn it.” I thrust into her hard and aim up, letting her find the last drop of pressure she needs to hit her climax.

Her wail of pleasure makes it hard to understand words, but after the first fractured gasps, I hear it.

“I’m your mate. Your princess. Graham’s treasure,” she whimpers in delight.

Her words unlock me. I can’t resist marking my mate, filling her with a treasure of my own, a copious flood of silver and pearl. “Mmm. Indeed you are.”