Autumn Feast - Charlie Richards Page 0,3

Injured?”

Kristof rolled his eyes. “I’m not injured.” Glancing over his shoulder as if he could see through the door, he nibbled his lower lip for a second. “As far as safe, Agnoroth claims he won’t hurt me. Swears it on his honor as a dragon. Does that mean anything to your kind?”

“Damn,” Benji muttered, sounding surprised. “Then he won’t hurt you. In fact, he would probably protect you if the situation came up while in his presence.”

Nodding absently, Kristof realized that the man had already done it.

Huh.

“Then I guess you don’t need to come over,” Kristof claimed, even as butterflies took flight in his belly. “He says he wants to talk to me.”

“I’m still on my way,” Benji stated. “Just because he won’t hurt you or allow you to be hurt, doesn’t mean him being there is a good thing.”

“Okay. See you when you get here, then,” Kristof replied. It wasn’t as if he could stop the dragon shifter and his buddy from coming over. Knowing he should be grateful that the pair were willing to drop everything because he might be in danger, Kristof even remembered to say thanks before hanging up.

Taking a deep breath, Kristof turned and unlocked the door. He gripped the handle, and after another pause to gird up his courage, he opened the door. Sweeping his gaze over Agnoroth, Kristof felt his blood heat in his veins.

Agnoroth had his hands braced on either side of the door frame, having obviously been waiting patiently.

Kristof couldn’t help but admire Agnoroth’s long, white hair, pale blue eyes, and chiseled features. His pale green polo shirt and black leather pants molded to his body as if they’d been painted on. While his frame was lean and toned, Kristof knew that the dragon had plenty of hidden strength.

The image of being pinned to the wall and pounded into by the beautiful dragon flashed through Kristof’s mind. His blood pooled south, causing his balls to tingle. His heart fluttered in his chest.

A low growl rumbled from Agnoroth, and Kristof snapped his attention back to his face. The dragon’s blue eyes appeared to glow with the intensity of his stare.

“I can guess at what you’re thinking, Kristof,” Agnoroth murmured, his tenor a rumbling purr. “Say it, and I will do it.” He glanced pointedly at Kristof’s groin, where he knew his erection pressed blatantly against his fly. “It would be my deepest pleasure.”

Kristof’s mouth went dry as he listened to Agnoroth’s voice. The melodious tenor somehow felt like a physical caress against his skin. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and he clenched his hands to keep from reaching out and touching.

Finally, Agnoroth’s words registered. “Y—” Kristof swallowed hard, trying to get moisture to his throat. “You’re hitting on me?”

Agnoroth chuckled roughly as he straightened from his stance, then took a step forward. “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it properly.” When he rested his hands on Kristof’s upper arms and urged him backward a step, goose bumps broke out on his skin. “I’m doing more than hitting on you, Kristof.”

The way Agnoroth slid his hands up Kristof’s arms to his shoulders, then slipped inside his jacket so he could knead lightly, sent a wash of tingles down his torso, and his nipples beaded.

Kristof’s arousal made it difficult to think. He found himself staring at Agnoroth’s lips, wondering what they would taste like. Would he ravish Kristof’s mouth, taking and dominating? Or was his passion more of a slow burn? The move of Agnoroth’s head, dipping toward his, jerked Kristof out of his lustful musings.

“Wait,” Kristof gasped, yanking backward and pulling away. He lifted his hands. “We can’t do this. You said you wanted to talk.”

Agnoroth inhaled deeply as his eyes narrowed. Lowering his hands, he dipped his chin as he blew out his breath between pursed lips. Then he nodded once, as if coming to a decision, and returned his focus to Kristof’s face.

“You’re right. You deserve an explanation.” Agnoroth turned and closed the still-open front door. When he focused on Kristof once more, lust still swam in his eyes, but the fire seemed to be banked. “And an apology.”

Kristof cocked his head. “Apology?” The arousal must have still been effecting his brain because he wasn’t following.

Arching one white-blond eyebrow, Agnoroth nodded. “For the incident with your friend.”

Right. Of course.

Nodding, Kristof beckoned as he led the way into his living room, removing his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair in the