Free Rare Form: Descended of Dragons, Book 1 by Jen Crane

front. No hair was in its proper place, but it was perfect just the same. He rocked the look, no doubt about it.
    Big, dark-brown eyes with almost curly black lashes studied my face. The slender slope of his nose peaked, skimmed over slight nostrils and into cheeks that looked downy soft compared to the perpetual five o’clock shadow that ran the length of his jawbone and into splashing of sideburns. A hint of a mustache brought attention to his mouth, which flashed bright white teeth for just a moment as he smiled warmly in welcome.
    “Stella enrolled today. She’s my new suitemate,” announced Timbra.
    Everyone offered congratulations. Well, most everyone. Bex’s top lip twitched, though she covered it quickly. I wasn’t sure if it was my new status as a student that she objected to, or that I was Timbra’s suitemate. Ultimately, I decided that she saw me as competition. Cats.
    “Aw, that’s my jam,” threw in the big man. “Stella, care to dance?”
    I did. The bass was thumping, the dance floor was packed, and I had never been opposed to fun. I shot Timbra a wide-eyed smile and made my way to the middle of the room. Boone followed, and I was soon shaking my ass like there was church tomorrow.
    Boone had good moves for someone so large. I figured him a humper for sure, but he surprised me with polite distance and fun spins and dips. We returned to the group when the next song turned out to be a ballad.
    From the corner of my eye, I spotted Gresham near the bar. I excused myself and made my way over. He saw me and raised his head in recognition.
    “I thought you weren’t coming.”
    “Change of plans,” he replied.
    He looked fantastic, and I couldn’t tell if he had tried to, or if it was something hastily thrown together. A tan blazer topped a sapphire V-neck T-shirt. Dark denim jeans ran into worn brown leather loafers with no socks.
    “You seem to be getting along fine,” he said. “You’ve made friends already, I see. I know the Redfern girl’s family. Don’t recognize the others.”
    “Yes, I think they’re all freshmen, like me, so you wouldn’t have had them in class yet.”
    “Primos, not freshmen. But I don’t teach here. Is that what you thought? That I’m a professor?” He seemed to find this immensely humorous and his eyes twinkled. “Here,” he said. “Your necklace has turned.” His big hands were warm on my collarbone as he adjusted my pendant. A jolt of electricity shot from my neck, straight through the center of my body, and all the way to my toes. I shivered and his smile widened. Then darkened.
    “Well...ah...yes,” I stammered. “ I mean…of course, now that I think about it, it would be weird that a professor crossed worlds and sought out a potential student. But, if you’re not a teacher here, what do you do?”
    “I do…special projects.”
    “Special projects like crashing SUV’s into innocent girls, destroying their personal property, forcibly removing them from the scene of an accident, breaking into their apartment, and very nearly sexually assaulting them?”
    “Now, hold on. I did not break into your apartment. And I apologized about my…physical response, though don’t expect me to apologize again. Furthermore, I saved you from burning alive in that car, and for the last time—you hit me.”
    “Where did you get those cars, anyway, Mr. Gresham? And why does someone from a world where money is an afterthought choose SUV’s and sports cars instead of something usefully utilitarian like, say, a Taurus?”
    “A Taurus?” he snarled and scraped his tongue between his teeth, as if removing a bad taste from his mouth. “I rented those cars. I like nice things.”
    “Mmm-hmmm,” I hummed playfully. Boy, riling him up was just too easy. Was I flirting? Maybe.
    My attempt to hide my grin behind a sip of my drink was unsuccessful, and the tension soon left his shoulders. As I inquired further about Gresham’s “special projects,” I caught sight of