Free Dragon Rising by Jaime Rush

pushed it at her. When she didn’t cover those beautiful breasts, he settled against the back of the couch, a safe distance away.
    She held the shirt in her hands, making no attempt to put it on. “I want more, Archer. More of you. If I give you a little of my—”
    “No, not even a little. It’ll never be enough. I would suck you dry, Dragon Girl.”
    She shivered, though he couldn’t tell if she was afraid or aroused. He was far enough away, thankfully. She did, however, pull on her bra and shirt. Everything about her, her heat, her essence, curled through him still and accompanied the thrum of pain at his wanting, at the will it took not to close that distance.
    He walked to the wall of windows, pressing his body against the cool glass, arms spread. In the reflection, he saw her watching him. Take the heat away. Take it away, because I can never have it again.

Chapter 9
    D o you always drive this fast?” Lyra watched the needle rise above one hundred.
    “Yes.”
    “Ah, back to that, are we? One-word answers. Sinking into deep silence. That’s not going to change what happened between us, you know.”
    “I know.” He flicked her a glance. “There, two words. Happy?”
    “Delirious.”
    She couldn’t keep her mouth from turning up, though. He hadn’t closed up completely. Watching him pressed against the window, sinking into his misery, had torn her apart. She’d given him space, and eventually they’d succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep on the couch.
    He turned up the car stereo, and a soft rock song filled the car. Queensrÿche’s “Silent Lucidity” scrolled across the screen, and the guy sang about the dream being over…or was it just begun?
    The words filled her chest. “We let ourselves have something, Archer. Maybe we’ll never have it again—”
    “We won’t.”
    The needle went higher, but he said nothing.
    “Because it hurts too much to not have it. I know. I felt it, too, and, well, you probably felt me feeling it. I’m trying not to unleash everything I feel.”
    “Don’t repress your feelings.” His order came out harsh. “It makes you cold and dead inside.”
    It hurt that she couldn’t touch his arm, or any part of him now, that he couldn’t let himself feel.
    “Is that why you’re so cold inside?” At his surprised look, she said, “I feel your cold, like stepping into the cooler at the bakery. Is that why you were craving my heat?”
    “I let you get too close. Nothing good comes of that.”
    She turned toward him, hands gripping the seat. “Something good did come of it. Look what we shared. It was beautiful.”
    “And it hurt like hell.”
    “But you said it wouldn’t hurt when you were Caido.”
    He kept his gaze ahead, which was good since he was going ninety-five. “Not physical pain.”
    “Heartache? Is that what you mean?”
    “I’ve spent my life feeling others’ emotions, taking in their pain and suffering as my own. I have never felt my own heartache until you.”
    She had made his heart ache. The thought made her flop back in her seat.
    A whoop sound definitely wasn’t part of the poignant song pouring from the stereo. Archer’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror as blue and red lights flashed behind them.
    She twisted around, seeing a police cruiser closing the gap. A Mud, of course, because Crescent police, the Guard, didn’t concern themselves with minor offenses such as speeding. They came in when someone used their magick abilities inappropriately. Or fatally.
    Archer pulled over, the cruiser right behind him. The officer spent a couple of minutes running the tag, most likely.
    “We’re okay with time, aren’t we?” she asked, looking at the clock.
    “We’re fine. Just a minor delay.”
    “How often are you stopped for speeding?”
    Lights pulsed against the dashboard and Archer’s face. “Just about every time I get on the interstate.”
    The cop approached, and Archer rolled down his window.
    He was young, Hispanic, and