Page 3 of Her Fierce Dragon
“Who said I was staring? How about admiring?” She raised an eyebrow.
Ah, this witch has sass.
He was intrigued.
“Admiring, huh?”He chuckled.
“Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the chair next to her.
Willow kept her eyes on the powerful shifter. She didn’t know what type of shifter he was, but he was radiating some serious energy. She had never been near someone like him. She knew instantly that he wasn’t a wolf, bear, or tiger shifter, though. His power was something else.
She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him from the moment he’d arrived. She’d watched how everyone stepped out the way when he walked through the bar. She didn’t know if it was out of respect or fear, but the crowd had literally parted as he’d made his way inside.
Jealousy had filled her; she’d watched his interaction with the wolf shifter bartender. She was cute, but she needed to move away from him. Willow didn’t know why, but she instantly wanted to jump the bar and toss the woman into the mirrors behind it.
She had been told to find Feno Kelmyar, and she’d finally found him.
Whatever he was, he was screwing with her libido. The minute his eyes connected with hers, she had to clamp her legs together to try to ease the ache. His dark hair had her fingers aching to sift through it. His arms were solid muscle, leaving her wanting to run her tongue along his biceps, up to his well-defined pecs, down to the ridge of his abdomen and continue south.
She tore her gaze from him and looked out across the bar. A shifter bar was not where one wanted to be when turned on. All the shifters would be able to sense and smell it. As much as she wanted to take great pleasure in this sex god—that could be the only thing he could be—she needed his help.
She heard his quick intake of breath and knew it was too late. He knew how he affected her.
Dammit.
She turned back to him and found his hooded eyes locked on hers. Desire flared in his irises, and her stomach clenched.
“What is your name, little witch?” he murmured.
“Willow,” she whispered, captivated by him. She was tumbling down the slippery slope of desire for this shifter. She tried to glance away, but the draw to him was too strong.
“What are you doing in a bar such as this? This doesn’t seem like your normal crowd,” he asked, stretching out in the booth.
She blew out a shaky breath, his scent washing over her. It was like an aphrodisiac to her. She wanted to sidle closer to him so she could sniff him.
What the hell?
She wasn’t a shifter. She was a powerful witch on the search for her missing grandmother. She didn’t have time to seek out pleasure with this shifter who dripped sex appeal.
A shiver ran down her spine; his fingers slowly played with the strands of her thick locks.
“Umm…” Her brain had officially quit on her, and the only thing that was speaking to her were her damn ovaries. They quivered at his look and were close to exploding.
As if sensing what she was thinking, he inched closer to her, putting her in the crook of his arm.
She tilted her head back so that she could stare up at him. She breathed him in, and moisture collected at the apex of her thighs. He was one hundred percent hot male. The heat was literally radiating from him.
She was turned on.
Completely.
Two seconds from detonating.
He’d asked her a question.
Answer him.
“I was searching for someone,” she finally replied. His fingers twirling her hair encouraged a whimper to escape from her lips.
