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“What? No gorgeous ladies lined up?”
I only want you. He gulped down the champagne to stop himself from saying the words out loud. “Nope, not right now. I mean—present company excepted.”
“You are saying that a lot this evening. I will accept being excepted, thank you.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“What?” Another innocent blink.
“Westwind humor and dragon humor do seem to fit well.”
She reached over and touched his hand with her pinkie. He startled.
She bit her lip. “How about Westwind flirting and dragon flirting. How do they fit?”
He opened his mouth, trying to think of something witty to say, but the soft stroke of her pinkie grazing the side of his hand was doing disturbing things to his cocks.
“So, tell me, how should I flirt with you?” she asked.
“I—I think,” gulp, “you’re doing just fine.”
She cocked her head. “So how would you flirt with me? Just say you met me in a bar, what would you do, what would you say?”
“Er,” he stuttered, all his scales fluttering.
Min giggled. “Don’t tell me the handsome dragon is lost for words.”
“Handsome—I’ll take that.”
“So you like compliments?”
“Yeah, dragons like compliments the way we like bling.”
“Except you don’t like bling.”
“Compliments are verbal bling. I’ll accept them.”
“What have your other girlfriends complimented you on?”
“Oh, I don’t know, my smile, I guess. “
“Yes, I can agree with that,” she murmured, and he glowed. “How about your kissing prowess?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. You’ll have to give me your opinion on that a little later.”
“So, what else have your previous dates said about you?” She was leaning her pretty chin on her hands now, elbows on the table, batting her eyelashes behind her frames, and there was no denying it, it was a turn-on.
“Oh, this and that. You know…”
“No, I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”
“They often quite liked the things I did with my tail, I guess.”
“Oh.” Her chin retracted, her lashes sweeping her cheeks. Oh gods, he’d gone too far.
But then, flicking her hair off her shoulders, she leaned closer. His eyes panned to her breasts, pressed together, milky white flesh glittering under the fairy lights. Ethan gritted his fangs, remembering what she’d said about Quentin. He would never want her to put him in the same box as that creep. But then she whispered, “So, Mr Blade, what can you do with that tail?”
For a second, he just stared at her.
