Hunted by the Dragon (Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Book 4) Read online

  “Ah, shit,” she swore. There was nothing sweet and slow about the way she fell back on the bed, angling her legs apart. Jules grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward between her thighs. She reached for his shaft, angling it toward her sex. “Fuck me.”

  His jeans still clinging to his upper thighs, he lifted himself up and delved forward. This was not how he imagined his first coupling with her, but he couldn’t resist. Tight heat enveloped his length as she took him in. It felt so right that he cried out. He closed his eyes, hiding the primal shift of his dragon that would flash in his gaze.

  Sean pumped his hips hard and fast, desperate to feel their connection. Blonde hair flowed in silky locks around her shoulders to her breasts. The mounds bounced with each pass of her hips and he stared greedily at them. Sean drove into her to watch them bob erotically. She met his movements, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. The material of his shirt kept them from stabbing too deep.

  “Jules,” he whispered. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “Ah.” Her mouth opened, but no coherent words came out.

  Jules gripped him tight, the muscles of her sex bearing down as she found release. The pressure became too much. His hips jerked. Suddenly, Jules pushed at his chest, forcing his body out of hers as he came. His seed spilled on the bed as she wiggled out from underneath him. He required a moment of heavy breathing before Sean came to his complete senses. He’d almost found release inside her, without thought of the consequences. But when he was inside her he felt like she was his and this is where he belonged. Evidently, by the look on her face, she wasn’t feeling the same level of devotion he was. He would never understand humans. As a dragon-shifter, he trusted his feelings and did not question them. Just like the first time he’d met her, he knew. Jules had his heart.

  “Your keys are on the dresser. Take your belongings and go.” She sat on the bed, not looking at him, not bothering to get dressed.

  The aftermath of pleasure clouded his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her. “What will you do?”

  “Steal another car,” she answered.

  His jeans pressed uncomfortably into his hips, and he stood, pulling them up over his ass. He didn’t want to leave her. This was not how fate was supposed to happen. But this wasn’t his planet. These were not his people. Humans did not see mating as his kind did. He had to assimilate. He had to respect what she wanted, even if it wasn’t him.

  “Jules, talk to me. After what we did—” He gestured toward the bed as her words cut him off.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She gave him a small smile, and it caused the ache in his chest to grow. “I know the difference between sex and love.”

  “Jules, I can help you,” he insisted.

  “You don’t even know what’s happening. How can you help? Besides, by the looks of your bag, you have enough work to do.” She ran her fingers over her hair, straightening and fluffing the locks.

  “Those are older files. I’ve caught all but one of them.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. Forget the files. You’re in trouble.”

  “I can handle myself.” Her nonchalant tone irked him. “I don’t want you here, Sean. I’m sorry about your car. I’m sorry about—”

  “Disappearing after you came to visit me? For not coming back when you said you’d see me later,” he interjected, slightly peeved by her dismissal. “I looked for you after I healed.”

  “See you later is just an expression people say instead of goodbye. I couldn’t visit you again. Seeing you would only remind me of what happened. I told you I don’t want to talk about the past. I’ve forgotten it.” Her expression said she spoke the truth, from the steadiness of her eyes to her stiff jaw. But he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but every instinct told him she hadn’t forgotten and that her pain and confusion ran deep.

  “Someone who’s forgotten doesn’t need to claim so vehemently that they’ve forgotten.” He pulled the card Hector had given him from his pocket. The white rectangle held only a phone number in the center in bold script. “Who is Hector? And why is he hunting you?”

  “What…?” She stood, pulling a blanket up with her. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I know no one by that name.”

  “That was not a skilled lie.” He frowned.

  “How do you know Hector?” Giving up the pretense, she hugged the blanket around her body, hiding her nakedness from him. The vulnerable act contradicted her earlier bravado.

  “He approached me after you borrowed my car. He seemed very interested in tracking you down, even offered to pay me to deliver you.”

  “Is that why you’ve come?” She inhaled a shaky breath. “To claim a bounty, no matter which side of the law it’s for?”

  Sean paced the room, anger and frustration not too far from boiling over. “I’m not turning you in to the authorities, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

  “Good, because I’m not looking for your help.” Jules sighed, letting loose a heavy, long breath. “Just lock up when you go. Take your stuff and leave.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but what could he say? Part of him wanted to jump into bed, pull her close and demand she let him take care of her. He didn’t want to go. After staring at her for a long moment, he nodded. “Fine, but I’m leaving you my card. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

  Jules silently indicated that she understood.

  “Do you need anything now? Money? Food?”

  She shook her head in denial. “I just need you to leave.”

  Sean, my boy, you can’t help them that won’t help themselves, or so Duncan’s wife, Teresa, had told him on numerous occasions.

  “Jules,” he hesitated. What more could he say? “Call if you need me.”

  Chapter 7

  Jules held very still as Sean walked out of the motel room. She wasn’t surprised that he’d found her. Finding people was what bounty hunters did.

  It was also what Hector did. Only, if Hector found her, he wouldn’t be as understanding as Sean. The Velázquez family scared the crap out of her. If they discovered her with Sean, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both. No matter how much she wanted to beg Sean to stay with her, she couldn’t put his life in danger.

  “You pushed things too far, Jules,” she scolded herself. “What is wrong with you? You’ve made a mess of things.”

  She crawled out of bed. The memory of Sean’s hands still ran over her body, confusing her emotions even more. She didn’t need the complications of her feelings clouding what needed to be done.

  It was like no time had gone by. One look, and he drew her to him. The bond that formed the first time they met was forged in something stronger than steel. She’d thought time would erase her feelings, feelings born out of gratitude and guilt and a case of victim-hero worship. That wasn’t the case. Sending him away had been hard. All she wanted was to call him back to her and rest in his arms forever.

  Already she missed him, the ache worse than when she walked away two years ago. What did she know about him besides ridiculous visions of a dragon man coming through the rain to save her? Even her memory of the night couldn’t be trusted.

  Crossing to the window, she pulled the curtain aside. Sean walked away from her, his confident body stepping from the bright section of the motel parking lot into the shadows where she’d parked his car. Why had she parked it next to the hotel where he would discover it? Was the lapse of judgment from exhaustion? Or did some secret part of her want him to find her?

  “I’m a psychological mess, Sean,” she whispered. “Stop trying to save me.”

  Jules dropped the curtain and moved to gather her belongings. She would wait until he drove off before leaving the motel room. Her clothes were still damp, but she would put them on anyway. Sean hadn’t discovered she’d taken his cash, and she could buy a change of clothes later. Right now, she needed to go.

  No
part of her believed Sean would leave her be now that he knew she was in trouble, and she couldn’t allow him to get in her way. If she died, so be it, but she couldn’t cause his death. He was the most honest, selfless person she’d ever met. She needed to know people like him were out there in the world living, even if she wasn’t a part of that life.

  Sean didn’t look back as he strode to his car in frustration. Why could she not feel their connection? Cursed humans! How could she be so blind to what they might be together? They’d come together in an incredible explosion of chaos and insanity. Her scent lingered on his skin. His body tingled from where they’d touched. His cock ached to do it again.

  She was his.

  Damn it, all.

  His.

  Why couldn’t she see it?

  Taking out his phone, he dialed Brian.

  “You’re a pain in the ass,” Brian grumbled by way of a greeting.

  “And you’re just an ass,” Sean answered, before immediately going into why he called. “I need to trade cars.”

  “You’re parting with the convertible? You love that car.”

  Sean glanced back to the motel room. “I need something that blends in more. It’s important.”

  “Jules?” Brian’s voice sobered as if he was coming more fully awake. “You found her?”

  “I need you to do one of your searches on her—deeper this time. Find out what she’s been doing. I need to know what kind of trouble she’s been in.”

  “What? After all this time, after I repeatedly offered to track her down, you’re going to finally let me look her up? I thought you said you didn’t want to invade her privacy, and that using your connections to track a woman who did not wish to be with you was too much like stalking, and she deserved to have her wishes honored to be left alone. I thought you had to trust in your gods to guide you at the right time.”

  Sean closed his eyes, the old lecture he’d given Brian ringing through his head. The man had offered several times to run Jules’s records for him, to track her down with Earth methods. No matter how much he wanted to say yes, he never had. She ran for a reason, and he’d been new to the planet. What did he have to offer her? He had no means, no family, and no home. His honor was tarnished by his broken promise to Galen, something he’d never be able to fix. “She’s in trouble, Brian. I should have come after her sooner. Maybe my gods don’t watch this planet.”

  “Whatever has happened to her isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself. You stopped—”

  “Grab a pen,” Sean interrupted. “I know where we can make the trade, and I will need some cash.” He thought about the lump rolled into her sweatshirt. He’d seen it when he glanced over the room. She’d stolen from him, but he didn’t care. Clearly, she was desperate. If she asked, he’d give her everything he had. “I gave Jules what I had on me.”

  Chapter 8

  “Yes, ma’am, I speak the truth! They had the best pumpkin pie I’ve tasted this side of the Mason-Dixon.” The trucker grinned, nodding his head emphatically. Raymond, or as he preferred to be called “Truckerman,” Johansson had picked her up in his semi-truck as she hitchhiked alongside the highway. He hauled children’s toys in the back, as evident by the giant pink teddy bear painted on the side of his long trailer, and reminded her of an unrefined Santa Claus.

  The man’s wiry gray beard reached his chest and twitched with his frequent and boisterous laughs. Though overbearing, the sound was cheery and unthreatening. Wrinkles ran across his face, like the many roads he’d traveled in his profession. They were etched deep, hardened by age and frozen by time. Small eyes squinted behind small round sunglasses. Jules saw them staring forward every time she glanced in his direction, but for some reason felt as if he peeked at her when she wasn’t looking.

  “Had this patch where you could go out into the field and pick your own pumpkin,” he continued, “and they’d make you a pie right from that pumpkin. Of course, you had to go back to pick the pie up. Worked out nicely because I grabbed it in on my return trip past.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jules said, her responses on autopilot. She tried to return his smiling expression, but between his constant chattering for the last six hours and her lack of sleep, she couldn’t manage more than a single nod. It had been three days, two crappy motels and five hitchhiked rides since Sean caught up with her. She traveled in no particular direction, simply zigzagged away from Boston, only to travel toward it, then away again, continuing the indecisive pattern through Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland. The only problem was, she was nowhere closer to deciding what she should do. Did she run? Did she try to take out the Velázquez family on her own? Go in with guns blazing and a death wish? Talk to the District Attorney? Talk to the police? Anonymously hand over what evidence she had—if she could even get her hands on it? Call Sean? Could she trust Sean? Could she trust the Flahertys? Could she trust anyone?

  The only answer she knew for certain is that she wouldn’t call Sean. She would never get him involved in this disaster, or in her life. Too much had happened. Too much needed to remain buried right where it was. Seeing him again had been a breath of heaven and a trip to hell. Pain filled her at the thought of his face. To love a man, still, after all these years and not be able to be with him was torture. It was a mistake to be with him, but hurt to be without him. She’d thought she’d moved past him, but seeing him, touching him, had only proven how much in denial she had been.

  One thing was certain. She was definitely insane. The dreams of a half-man, half-dinosaur creature coming to save her had started up again. What was even stranger, she would constantly try to make out with the monster. Her nights were a blur of kinky dragon sex and Velázquez death threats.

  No matter what happened, she would not call Sean.

  “You’re a quiet one,” Truckerman broke into her thoughts.

  “I was thinking about dragons,” she mumbled, too tired to come up with a polite lie.

  “Not too long ago I came from a run in Louisiana. You won’t believe what folks are saying.” Truckerman launched into another story with ease. “They have themselves a bona fide Cajun lizard man living in the swamps.”

  Jules arched a brow at that one.

  “They say he’s a half-man, half-dragon, the abomination of a backwater woman and an alligator. I figure he’s an ex-carnie from one of those freak shows, you know with the scaly skin or tattoos, but folks are superstitious and…”

  Jules let her mind drift from the man’s tall tales. She had bought new clothes at a gas station along the highway. The ankle-length orange and yellow tie-dyed peasant skirt with elastic waistband and black t-shirt was a far cry from her usual street-smart style, but she didn’t care. She’d shoved everything into a new yellow messenger bag. It beat the plastic grocery sacks and rolled up sweatshirt she’d been using for luggage. The more Truckerman spoke, the tighter she hugged the bag to her stomach.

  “They have those hydroponic greenhouses, too.” Truckerman had changed topics. “Where the roots hang in the air never touching dirt. Don’t see too many of those where I’m from. My people still farm out of the ground. Not sure I want to eat food that comes from a lab and not from the earth.”

  “Don’t blame you.” Jules didn’t bother to debate the man on the value of organically grown greenhouse vegetables versus chemically sprayed field ones. She didn’t care either way. Those kinds of worries were for people with nothing real to be concerned about—like being hunted by Juanita and Hector Velázquez.

  “Cute petting zoo set up for the kids. Had a herd of alpacas and sheep out there,” Truckerman chattered on.

  Jules toned him out for several miles before his insistent throat clearing interrupted her drifting thoughts. “Sorry?”

  Truckerman chuckled. “I see I was right. I have been jawin’ your ear off.”

  “No, it’s not you. I’m just tired. You have a scheduled stop anytime soon? I need coffee.” She made a show of yaw
ning.

  “Sure thing, little lady. Truck stop’s ahead.” He hummed something akin to a country song, though she didn’t know the words, before adding, “I could use a bite myself.”

  Chapter 9

  “They’re pulling into a truck stop now,” Sean said into the phone. The building split into two parts with a restaurant entrance on the right and a gas station/convenience store on the left. White paint clung to the metal structure in peeling flakes. Gas pumps were set away from the building under their own canopy. “It looks like she might switch vehicles. It’s possible she’s heading back toward Boston again.”

  “Where are you?” Brian asked. The man had met up with him to bring him an abandoned old pickup from the impound lot on the same morning Sean had left Jules in her motel room. No one would miss the vehicle and, though it drove amazingly well for its condition, he didn’t like it as much as the convertible.

  “Somewhere near Columbia, Maryland.” Sean’s long-sleeve black knit shirt, jeans and black sneakers were purposefully nondescript. He also had the gun Brian insisted he carry. The convertible had two storage compartments. Jules only rummaged through the trunk. Under the back seat in a secret compartment, he kept a suitcase full of clothes. They came in handy for situations like this one where he found himself away from his Earth home for unexpected periods of time.

  “What is she doing?”

  “She’s thinking. Jules once told me she likes to drive to clear her head.” Sean remembered everything she’d said to him. “The longer she drives, the worse the situation. Whatever is going on with her, it’s bad.”

  “I can’t believe she hitched a ride with a trucker,” Brian grumbled in clear irritation.

  Sean understood the over-protectiveness in the man’s tone. He felt it too.