one of the students to come up front.
The little boy moved to stand next to Tristan. After listening to his teacher, the little boy closed his eyes. A few seconds later, his hand became something that wasn’t a hand—she was too far away to see clearly, but she guessed it was a dragon claw—and then opened his eyes to shout, “I did it!”
The sound echoed down to her, and she smiled as Tristan gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. After saying something else, the boy’s hand returned to a pale human one. The other students cheered as the boy went to stand back with his classmates.
Tristan was even smiling as he watched the boy return to his place. Then Tristan’s eyes roamed over his students, as if he were trying to think of whom to pick next, when his gaze found hers.
Even from this distance, his look sent a little thrill through her body. Melanie remembered everything he—and by extension, she—had done less than a week ago. Such as the feel of his hands on her ass; the sting of his bite on her neck; the fullness of his cock inside her as he took her against a wall.
The growl he made when he came.
Her cheeks went hot, but she didn’t break his gaze. She wasn’t embarrassed about their marathon of fantastic sex, let alone afraid of him, and she wanted to make sure he knew it.
With a deep inhalation and exhalation, she squared her shoulders, pasted a patient smile on her face, and strode toward the end of the clearing. By now, the students all turned to see what their teacher was staring at. When she was close enough, she could hear their murmurs of “Who is she?”, “Do we have a guest?”, and finally, when she was less than ten feet from them, “Why does she smell like Mr. MacLeod?”
Before either she or Tristan could say anything, one of the little girls said, “I know why! She smells like him because she’s carrying Mr. MacLeod’s baby! My mama smelled like my dad before my brother was born.”
The other students started to chatter, but then Tristan said, “Quiet,” and the students stopped talking.
She moved to stand next to Tristan. Despite the frown on his face, she remembered the patient version of him with the student, and she yearned to have that version of him holding her against his warm chest. That man she could actually like.
But the guarded look he always seemed to carry when she was around was back. It was best to get on with why she was here.
She raised an eyebrow and said, “They must’ve told you I would come to teach. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your students?”
Chapter Five
From the instant Tristan had met Melanie’s gaze, he’d had to battle both his attraction to her and the demands of his dragon.
With the children standing in front of him, his dragon was behaving—for the moment. The beast only thought of fucking her once every thirty seconds, which was only marginally better than having a constant need and desire broadcast inside his head.
When she stood next to him, the mixture of her feminine scent with his, because of the pregnancy, caused an overwhelming protectiveness to rush through his body.
Why did you abandon her? She is ours. We should take her home. Treasure her. Pleasure her. Fuck her.
Not right now. I need to help the young. Or do you want to leave them vulnerable? That thought silenced his dragon. Protecting the young was the most important.
Melanie asked if he was going to introduce her, and he turned to his morning class. “This is Miss Melanie Hall. You’ve probably scented it already, but she is a human female. From today, she’s going to come at least once a week to teach you human studies.” He turned toward Melanie. “They’re all yours.”
He barely registered what she said next as he studied the curve of her cheek, or the way the sun cast red glints in her hair. Her top clung to her breasts as if to tempt him, much like her jeans hugged her nice, wide hips and soft arse, reminding him what it
The little boy moved to stand next to Tristan. After listening to his teacher, the little boy closed his eyes. A few seconds later, his hand became something that wasn’t a hand—she was too far away to see clearly, but she guessed it was a dragon claw—and then opened his eyes to shout, “I did it!”
The sound echoed down to her, and she smiled as Tristan gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. After saying something else, the boy’s hand returned to a pale human one. The other students cheered as the boy went to stand back with his classmates.
Tristan was even smiling as he watched the boy return to his place. Then Tristan’s eyes roamed over his students, as if he were trying to think of whom to pick next, when his gaze found hers.
Even from this distance, his look sent a little thrill through her body. Melanie remembered everything he—and by extension, she—had done less than a week ago. Such as the feel of his hands on her ass; the sting of his bite on her neck; the fullness of his cock inside her as he took her against a wall.
The growl he made when he came.
Her cheeks went hot, but she didn’t break his gaze. She wasn’t embarrassed about their marathon of fantastic sex, let alone afraid of him, and she wanted to make sure he knew it.
With a deep inhalation and exhalation, she squared her shoulders, pasted a patient smile on her face, and strode toward the end of the clearing. By now, the students all turned to see what their teacher was staring at. When she was close enough, she could hear their murmurs of “Who is she?”, “Do we have a guest?”, and finally, when she was less than ten feet from them, “Why does she smell like Mr. MacLeod?”
Before either she or Tristan could say anything, one of the little girls said, “I know why! She smells like him because she’s carrying Mr. MacLeod’s baby! My mama smelled like my dad before my brother was born.”
The other students started to chatter, but then Tristan said, “Quiet,” and the students stopped talking.
She moved to stand next to Tristan. Despite the frown on his face, she remembered the patient version of him with the student, and she yearned to have that version of him holding her against his warm chest. That man she could actually like.
But the guarded look he always seemed to carry when she was around was back. It was best to get on with why she was here.
She raised an eyebrow and said, “They must’ve told you I would come to teach. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your students?”
Chapter Five
From the instant Tristan had met Melanie’s gaze, he’d had to battle both his attraction to her and the demands of his dragon.
With the children standing in front of him, his dragon was behaving—for the moment. The beast only thought of fucking her once every thirty seconds, which was only marginally better than having a constant need and desire broadcast inside his head.
When she stood next to him, the mixture of her feminine scent with his, because of the pregnancy, caused an overwhelming protectiveness to rush through his body.
Why did you abandon her? She is ours. We should take her home. Treasure her. Pleasure her. Fuck her.
Not right now. I need to help the young. Or do you want to leave them vulnerable? That thought silenced his dragon. Protecting the young was the most important.
Melanie asked if he was going to introduce her, and he turned to his morning class. “This is Miss Melanie Hall. You’ve probably scented it already, but she is a human female. From today, she’s going to come at least once a week to teach you human studies.” He turned toward Melanie. “They’re all yours.”
He barely registered what she said next as he studied the curve of her cheek, or the way the sun cast red glints in her hair. Her top clung to her breasts as if to tempt him, much like her jeans hugged her nice, wide hips and soft arse, reminding him what it
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