Hell yeah. And no magic on earth could ever destroy that.
The End
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More Romance From Lexxie Couper…
Fire Mates Series
Sera’s Dragon
How to Love Your Dragon
Crouching Tigress, Sexy Dragon
Dragon, Interrupted
See the full book list…
First Chapter Preview: Sera’s Dragon Fire Mates, Book One
Is it wrong to want to jump a complete stranger’s bones? Even a deluded one who thinks he can turn into a dragon?
Sera’s Dragon
(Fire Mates, Book One)
Available Here
Sydney, Australia
Heartburn sucked. Even when you were a dragon shifter.
Tyson Conley pressed the heel of his palm to his sternum and rubbed, knowing it would do sweet F.A. to relieve the pain. This is what he got for eating spicy meatball pizza. Every friggin’ time, he ended up in hell. At some stage of the game he was going to learn his lesson.
He could already feel the insidious heat radiating up through his throat from his chest, but whereas a human would pop a Tums or two and be done with it, he was now in for a bloody scorcher of a time. Thankfully he couldn’t exhale fire in his human form, but that didn’t stop the inferno in his chest scalding the lining of his digestive tract. Or stop him wishing he were dead.
Hell, it hurt.
He let out a growl, a thoroughly bestial sound that made the old duck sitting at the table next to his flinch. She stared at him, washed-out blue eyes wide behind her thick glasses.
Tyson gave her an apologetic smile, fighting the urge to fidget in his chair. “Sorry.” He pushed the remains of his pizza away. He was done. If Ryan ever turned up, he could eat the rest of the damn thing. As far as Tyson knew, spicy meatballs only made his younger brother more—
A million pinpricks of fire raced abruptly over his flesh. Then another million. His breath caught, his mouth turned dry and, despite feeling like he was about to spontaneously combust, an arctic chill swept through him.
What the hell?
The old duck beside him glared some more, thin mouth puckered with disapproving disdain. Why? Had he made a noise? He must have, though what it was he didn’t have a bloody clue. Another growl? A groan?
Invisible fire swept over his skin again, hotter this time—so much hotter. And purposeful. Shooting over his skin like an inferno until his prick was so fucking hard he wanted to cry out in pain. And pleasure. Oh God, did he want to cry out in pleasure.
Holy shit, it can’t be the…
“No,” Tyson muttered, burning up. He twisted in his seat, frantically looking around the beachfront café. No one gazed at him with open hunger. No one stalked toward him with single-minded purpose or made coy goo-goo eyes from afar. The only one paying him any attention was the old duck with the sour-lemon face, and there was nothing hungry or sexual about the way she stared at him. She looked as if she were about to pull an Uzi from her handbag and save the world from a psychopath.
She leaned toward him, eyes narrowing behind her pink glasses. “Are you on drugs, son?” Her lips—painted the same pink as her coke-bottle glasses—pursed tighter. “Are you tripping?”
Fresh fire scalded his flesh, so hot, so intense, he gritted his teeth. His cock throbbed with such impatient insistency he feared it was going to erupt. He blinked at the old woman. Opened his mouth. Closed it. His throat wouldn’t work. His balls felt ready to burst.
All signs of the mating fire.
It made no sense. How could he be experiencing the mating fire? There were no unmated female dragon shifters in Sydney. Hell, there weren’t many dragon shifters in Sydney, full st—
A woman jogged toward the café, holding the leash of a massive animal that could be a dog but looked more like a hairy…thing…loping beside her. She moved at a leisurely pace, dark-red ponytail flipping behind her head like a dancing flame, slim body radiating energy, breath slipping from her in streams of delicate mist Tyson knew only he could see.
She ran past the café, dog-slash-thing keeping pace, and Tyson’s entire body went up in invisible flames. Heat and lust and want. Need.
Urgent need. Hungry want. Dire lust.
His heart slammed into his throat. His mate. His Fire Mate. Fuck, he’d seen his Fire Mate. And she was—
He bolted to his feet, stare locked on the woman jogging through the crowded footpath. His table went skidding, bumping into the old duck’s. His pizza clattered to the floor, along with his untouched beer, his phone and the old duck’s glass of wine. Beer and wine splashed his ankles, dribbled inside his Vans, but he didn’t care. He had to catch her. Had to—
“Sonny!” the old duck hissed. “You’re making noises like a—”
Dragon.
The word reverberated through his head, drowning out whatever word the old duck had used just as the crowd swallowed up the jogging woman.
Dragon.
He was making noises like a dragon. A dragon in heat.
He was making noises like a dragon in heat because he was a dragon in heat. And Christ on a pony, his Fire Mate had just jogged by, oblivious to his existence, triggering the mating fire—and she was human.
Human.
How the fuck could she be human? He had to be wrong. True, he didn’t detect the distinct honeyed-sulfur scent all female dragon shifters exuded…but since when did dragon shifters mate with humans?
Since never, that’s when. They may fuck them every now and again, but mate with them?
No. It wasn’t possible.
Of course it isn’t. So tell that to your body.
His body, however, wasn’t listening to logic and millennia-old fact. His body was well and
