Page 17 of Ditching the Dragon (Fated Dates)

“Dragon.”

Shit.Dragons are possessive. Territorial. They see something they like and they hold onto it.

They never let go.

The way he watched me shifts in my mind. It’s no longer sexy and thrilling; now, it’s panic inducing.

It takes every bit of effort I have not to freeze and to act like it doesn’t faze me.

I’m grateful twice over that Violet put a fake name in the app.

I need to go. Now. Before he gets more attached.

“I should leave,” I tell him. “Thank you for the amazing night.”

But he holds me tight to him.

“Not yet.Two orgasms, Grace. I still owe you one.”

I don’t know whether to kill Violet or kiss her.

It’s not until four a.m., with Wick snoring softly beside me, that I stoke the courage to slip out of his grasp. I dress hastily and pause one last time at the door to the bedroom.

He really is beautiful. A square jaw and angular cheekbones to frame large, sleeping eyes. Thick dark hair I loved sinking my fingers into. Muscled arms and the perfect barrel chest for snuggling him like a man-sized teddy bear.

I commit the moment to memory, because I need this to last.

My fantasy one night stand may be complete, but he’s going to live in my thoughts for a good long time.

Chapter Five

“Here you go, Annie,” Marni, the owner of the coffee shop on the corner by my apartment, tells me. They hand me the scalding paper cup with an insulated band and then slide a wax paper bag with the store’s logo toward me.

“How many times do I have to tell you—”

“It’s a new recipe. I need beta testers. Try it and tell me tomorrow what you think.”

They smile broadly.

Marni’s owned the Baked In Coffee Bar for several years now, but they never change it.

For years, I’ve been plied with pastries and other goodies. Sometimes it’s, “extra that came in.” Sometimes it’s, “a batch that burned” of an item that looks perfectly fine.

When I first moved to Tavers City for my internship, I didn’t know anyone. Both my family and my university were across the country, so it was just me and the coffee shops.

The Baked In, under both prior and current ownership, has been the perfect place to escape the quiet emptiness of my apartment. I hid here to be around people without beingaround peopleduring my three-year internship. I studied for my architect’s license here.

Once I’d passed the AREs, I simply kept coming. The coffee’s great, the pastries are yummy, and people like Marni are good co-existence company.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know,” I tell them.

I’ve always been a creature of habit. I like what I like and there’s no point in deviating from that.

Well, except when your best friend plies you with margaritas and convinces you to be reckless.

The week and a half since that night at The Botanical has been both a joy and a sadness.

On the one hand, I had an absolutely amazing night. Wick was... everything I could ever ask for. Strong. Thoughtful. Masculine. Unbelievably sexy.

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