Read Online Bloodrunner Dragon (Harper's Mountains Book 1) by T. S. Joyce - Free Book Online
Authors: T. S. Joyce
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it as he tried and failed to contain a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before.”
“I’m not drunk.” The peppermint flopped out of her mouth and hit the ground. Gritting her teeth in concentration, Harper swayed and reached for the candy. “Five second rule,” she mumbled, but Wyatt kicked her sugary target into the street.
“Five second rules don’t count when you drop something sticky in the dirt. It had a leaf on it, Harper.”
Harper rocked her head all the way back and frowned. “You look grossed out. And tall. What are you now? Seven foot eleven inches?”
Wyatt huffed a laugh and shook his head. “That’s a really specific number, and no. I’m six-three. I should probably get you home.”
“Home. Your home?”
Wyatt cleared his throat, and a troubled frown marred his perfect face. “Yeah, my home. That’s what I meant.”
Harper looked at the peppermint in the street, all caked in mud now. “Well…I was going to seduce you, and now the boys will make fun of me. They’ll think I couldn’t close the deal.”
“Close the—woman, what did you think was going to happen?”
“Making-out at the minimum, and maximum, banging in the parking lot. Maybe over there”—she pointed—“where it’s all dark and romantic.”
Wyatt looked up at the dark sky like he was praying for patience, but she could still see it there—that little smile. “First off, the parking lot of Drat’s isn’t romantic in any way, and you should really lift those standards, Harper. Second, you’re wasted—”
“Tipsy—”
“And when I do make a move on you, I want you to remember it. As it stands now, I don’t think you’ll remember this conversation tomorrow, much less a quickie fuck in the parking lot, and where are your shoes?”
Harper looked down at her bare feet. Damn, her pedicure still looked foxy. But really, where were her flip flops? She looked around, trying to desperately remember where, and why, she took them off.
“Okay, don’t worry,” Wyatt said in that manly sexy voice of his. “They’re probably still inside. I’ll grab them and some water for you. I’ll round up the boys while I’m at it.”
As he disappeared inside, Harper murmured, “But I’m not thirsty.” For water. She was definitely thirsty for Wyatt’s lips. She’d been thinking about them non-stop since he pecked her on the head earlier. And now she was completely inebriated on the sexy smiles he’d been casting her way all night. Those and tequila.
The wind kicked up, and goosebumps rose in waves across her arms despite the warm sweater she wore. Dragon shifters ran hot, hence the comfort with flip-flops on this chilly autumn night. The world was fuzzy as she scanned the parking lot and narrowed her eyes at the trees that lined the street beyond. The leaves and limbs were perfectly still, but it was so windy near her that dust from the parking lot lifted in little cyclones.
And then she heard it. The squeak, squeak of bats.
With a gasp, she bolted for the door, and just as her fingertips brushed the handle, she was blasted backward. She was thrown into a tornado of chaos as she spun and fought. Harper hit the side of a truck with a deafening crash and then was pinned there against the mangled metal. Dragon! Where the fuck was she? Slashing pain stung her arms as she blocked punches too fast to be human. A long hiss filled her head as something cold wrapped around her neck.
Change, Change, Change!
Harper gasped for breath as the smoke solidified into Arabella, surrounded by her guards, her hand wrapped unwaveringly around Harper’s throat. Too drunk. Harper was too drunk to summon the dragon. But she could still blow fire if she could suck in enough air to set off her fire-starter.
“You took my toy from me,” Arabella rasped out in an icy voice that bounced around inside of Harper’s head, each word echoing and overlapping. The side of Arabella’s face was melted like metal warped in
“I’m not drunk.” The peppermint flopped out of her mouth and hit the ground. Gritting her teeth in concentration, Harper swayed and reached for the candy. “Five second rule,” she mumbled, but Wyatt kicked her sugary target into the street.
“Five second rules don’t count when you drop something sticky in the dirt. It had a leaf on it, Harper.”
Harper rocked her head all the way back and frowned. “You look grossed out. And tall. What are you now? Seven foot eleven inches?”
Wyatt huffed a laugh and shook his head. “That’s a really specific number, and no. I’m six-three. I should probably get you home.”
“Home. Your home?”
Wyatt cleared his throat, and a troubled frown marred his perfect face. “Yeah, my home. That’s what I meant.”
Harper looked at the peppermint in the street, all caked in mud now. “Well…I was going to seduce you, and now the boys will make fun of me. They’ll think I couldn’t close the deal.”
“Close the—woman, what did you think was going to happen?”
“Making-out at the minimum, and maximum, banging in the parking lot. Maybe over there”—she pointed—“where it’s all dark and romantic.”
Wyatt looked up at the dark sky like he was praying for patience, but she could still see it there—that little smile. “First off, the parking lot of Drat’s isn’t romantic in any way, and you should really lift those standards, Harper. Second, you’re wasted—”
“Tipsy—”
“And when I do make a move on you, I want you to remember it. As it stands now, I don’t think you’ll remember this conversation tomorrow, much less a quickie fuck in the parking lot, and where are your shoes?”
Harper looked down at her bare feet. Damn, her pedicure still looked foxy. But really, where were her flip flops? She looked around, trying to desperately remember where, and why, she took them off.
“Okay, don’t worry,” Wyatt said in that manly sexy voice of his. “They’re probably still inside. I’ll grab them and some water for you. I’ll round up the boys while I’m at it.”
As he disappeared inside, Harper murmured, “But I’m not thirsty.” For water. She was definitely thirsty for Wyatt’s lips. She’d been thinking about them non-stop since he pecked her on the head earlier. And now she was completely inebriated on the sexy smiles he’d been casting her way all night. Those and tequila.
The wind kicked up, and goosebumps rose in waves across her arms despite the warm sweater she wore. Dragon shifters ran hot, hence the comfort with flip-flops on this chilly autumn night. The world was fuzzy as she scanned the parking lot and narrowed her eyes at the trees that lined the street beyond. The leaves and limbs were perfectly still, but it was so windy near her that dust from the parking lot lifted in little cyclones.
And then she heard it. The squeak, squeak of bats.
With a gasp, she bolted for the door, and just as her fingertips brushed the handle, she was blasted backward. She was thrown into a tornado of chaos as she spun and fought. Harper hit the side of a truck with a deafening crash and then was pinned there against the mangled metal. Dragon! Where the fuck was she? Slashing pain stung her arms as she blocked punches too fast to be human. A long hiss filled her head as something cold wrapped around her neck.
Change, Change, Change!
Harper gasped for breath as the smoke solidified into Arabella, surrounded by her guards, her hand wrapped unwaveringly around Harper’s throat. Too drunk. Harper was too drunk to summon the dragon. But she could still blow fire if she could suck in enough air to set off her fire-starter.
“You took my toy from me,” Arabella rasped out in an icy voice that bounced around inside of Harper’s head, each word echoing and overlapping. The side of Arabella’s face was melted like metal warped in
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