EXCERPT included below
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Wolf shifter Trey Dixon is on a hell of a roll: winning the poker hand of his life, meeting his dream woman, and outfoxing Vegas's shifter underworld. But he’s not the only one lusting after his destined mate - a band of ruthless vampires wants Kaya for her dragon blood.
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SHIFTERS IN VEGAS limited time series sale - each title only 99c!
~ ~ ~ EXCERPT ~ ~ ~
Kaya stood under the harsh sun of the Nevada desert, staring Trey down. Pretending the same unrelenting magnetism that had pulled them together the previous night wasn’t still swirling around her ankles like the beginning of a goddamn hurricane. Pretending they were just a couple of ordinary people on another ordinary day.
Except he looked good enough to eat, damn it, and sounded even better.
Hello, Kaya.
He might as well have said, Let me lick you right into another orgasm, the way her body reacted. Pulse racing, blood pooling, face flushing... It was a good thing she was still in dragon form.
She stepped back into the last edge of shade cast down by the edgy hills and clawed the ground. If only she had a little more height because, except for her long dragon neck and tail, she was pretty much the same size as she was in human form. Shifting didn’t actually change body mass, just shape.
She huffed at him, trying to produce a little flame, and failed miserably, then resented him a little more.
Hello, Kaya, my ass. The only person who’d ever greeted her dragon that casually was her great-grandmother — the one with really poor eyesight and a very absent mind.
She gave her wings a good shake and wiggled the claws at the tips for extra effect, because that would show this cocky he-wolf what he was up against. No way could he be as cool and collected as he looked. She peered closer and gave a little snort.
His pupils were wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. So, yeah, she wasn’t the only one with a pounding heart here.
She grinned, showing off teeth as long as his fingers.
And what did the bastard do?
He leaned casually against the bumper, as if weary from carrying all those layers of muscle around. Then he tipped that Stetson of his back and hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. His thick brown hair was disheveled in a near-perfect match to the man in her midnight fantasies of the past ten years.
“Good to see you again,” he said, as if she’d agreed to meet him in the middle of nowhere.
She huffed and lashed her tail.
He grinned.
Grinned, like he started every morning with high-speed car chases and gargoyles. She’d flown back over the city just in time to see the whole thing from high above, although she hadn’t dared show herself in broad daylight. Whatever magick kept humans from seeing the gargoyles certainly didn’t cover her. It was enough of a risk to land in this remote corner of the desert and show herself to him.
Focus, dammit! Focus!
She shook her head and told herself to get on with her plan, which meant keeping cool, calm, and collected. Her sister’s life depended on her now, which meant she needed her phone and the number. This was about life or death, not the most mind-blowing sex of her life.
She cleared her throat, producing a grumbly dragon growl, and shifted — slowly. Tucked her wings, retracted her claws, let her scales pull back under her skin. That part always burned, but she ignored it, keeping a row of scales down her chest even as the rest of her slid back into human form. It was bad enough to have to negotiate with Cowboy Scrumptious; she sure as hell didn’t want to do it naked. Not totally naked, at least.
He stroked his gaze up and down her body like he wanted to memorize every curve. Like he wanted to live in that moment forever. A quick lick made his lips shine, and a little bit of white showed where his top teeth bit down.
His eyes roved a little more, and the glow in them said he was claiming that territory as his own.
“Have a good flight?” he asked.
Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching and unclenching just like her teeth.
“That’s my car,” she started.
He looked behind him as if he’d forgotten what he’d been leaning against, then patted the hood with both hands.
“My car now.”
“It’s mine!”
The sun slid closer to high noon, and her tiny sliver of shade retreated another inch. They’d roast to death if they spent all morning arguing out here.
“How do I know you didn’t steal it?”
She stomped a foot. “It’s was my grandfather’s!”
He didn’t even blink. “Seriously? You stole a car from your grandfather? That’s just wrong.”
She sputtered. “I inherited it when he died, okay? It’s mine!”
Damn it, her voice was shaking, the way it usually did when she thought of the kindest, gentlest dragon shifter the world had ever known.
Hot Stuff’s smile disappeared as he tilted his head, studying her. He let a minute tick by, giving her the chance to compose herself before speaking again.
“A dragon with a vintage roadster?”
Except he looked good enough to eat, damn it, and sounded even better.
Hello, Kaya.
He might as well have said, Let me lick you right into another orgasm, the way her body reacted. Pulse racing, blood pooling, face flushing... It was a good thing she was still in dragon form.
She stepped back into the last edge of shade cast down by the edgy hills and clawed the ground. If only she had a little more height because, except for her long dragon neck and tail, she was pretty much the same size as she was in human form. Shifting didn’t actually change body mass, just shape.
She huffed at him, trying to produce a little flame, and failed miserably, then resented him a little more.
Hello, Kaya, my ass. The only person who’d ever greeted her dragon that casually was her great-grandmother — the one with really poor eyesight and a very absent mind.
She gave her wings a good shake and wiggled the claws at the tips for extra effect, because that would show this cocky he-wolf what he was up against. No way could he be as cool and collected as he looked. She peered closer and gave a little snort.
His pupils were wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. So, yeah, she wasn’t the only one with a pounding heart here.
She grinned, showing off teeth as long as his fingers.
And what did the bastard do?
He leaned casually against the bumper, as if weary from carrying all those layers of muscle around. Then he tipped that Stetson of his back and hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. His thick brown hair was disheveled in a near-perfect match to the man in her midnight fantasies of the past ten years.
“Good to see you again,” he said, as if she’d agreed to meet him in the middle of nowhere.
She huffed and lashed her tail.
He grinned.
Grinned, like he started every morning with high-speed car chases and gargoyles. She’d flown back over the city just in time to see the whole thing from high above, although she hadn’t dared show herself in broad daylight. Whatever magick kept humans from seeing the gargoyles certainly didn’t cover her. It was enough of a risk to land in this remote corner of the desert and show herself to him.
Focus, dammit! Focus!
She shook her head and told herself to get on with her plan, which meant keeping cool, calm, and collected. Her sister’s life depended on her now, which meant she needed her phone and the number. This was about life or death, not the most mind-blowing sex of her life.
She cleared her throat, producing a grumbly dragon growl, and shifted — slowly. Tucked her wings, retracted her claws, let her scales pull back under her skin. That part always burned, but she ignored it, keeping a row of scales down her chest even as the rest of her slid back into human form. It was bad enough to have to negotiate with Cowboy Scrumptious; she sure as hell didn’t want to do it naked. Not totally naked, at least.
He stroked his gaze up and down her body like he wanted to memorize every curve. Like he wanted to live in that moment forever. A quick lick made his lips shine, and a little bit of white showed where his top teeth bit down.
His eyes roved a little more, and the glow in them said he was claiming that territory as his own.
“Have a good flight?” he asked.
Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching and unclenching just like her teeth.
“That’s my car,” she started.
He looked behind him as if he’d forgotten what he’d been leaning against, then patted the hood with both hands.
“My car now.”
“It’s mine!”
The sun slid closer to high noon, and her tiny sliver of shade retreated another inch. They’d roast to death if they spent all morning arguing out here.
“How do I know you didn’t steal it?”
She stomped a foot. “It’s was my grandfather’s!”
He didn’t even blink. “Seriously? You stole a car from your grandfather? That’s just wrong.”
She sputtered. “I inherited it when he died, okay? It’s mine!”
Damn it, her voice was shaking, the way it usually did when she thought of the kindest, gentlest dragon shifter the world had ever known.
Hot Stuff’s smile disappeared as he tilted his head, studying her. He let a minute tick by, giving her the chance to compose herself before speaking again.
“A dragon with a vintage roadster?”