How was I going to get all warm and fuzzy, or rather—hot and horny, with this guy? A cold kind of grope session was far more likely. But if it saved Zyair, it would be worth it.
His tail twitched hard as he rubbed a hand over his face. “This was not what I imagined for our first time.”
“You imagined us together?” I asked, surprised.
“I did.” He looked fully at me then, and what I saw in his eyes robbed me of breath. “And Ido.”
Wow. Nothing like tall, dark, and lethal to make the knees weak. Perhaps the grope session would be a little more interesting than I’d assumed…
“Fetch your paper and pencils,” he said. “Meet me in the starboard storage bay in thirty minutes.”
He stalked off in that direction, leaving me gasping for breath and wondering what the hell he wanted with my art supplies.
My mind spun with questions as I collected my drawing pad and sketching pencils. On a whim, I grabbed my box of charcoal too. I loved the dimension it added to shadows and highlights. If only I had any idea what I would be drawing…
I had enough time for a sonic shower, so I did that and then stood debating clothes. Why hadn’t I packed something sexy to wear? Because, my inner bitch insisted, I hadn’t planned on getting laid by three fucking Drakes.
She had a point. I put on three different outfits, all of which were great for piloting a ship. Not so much for screwing a grumpy dragon.
It was well past the requisite thirty minutes by the time I activated the starboard storage bay door. The main lights had been shut off. I could barely see the panels we’d welded along the wall.
Rhodes had been busy. In the center of the bay was a mattress with blankets neatly folded back. Surrounding it were small lanterns used for emergencies. They cast tiny circles of soft, warm light across the cold metal, and completely transformed the space to something almost—beautiful.
Rhodes sat on the floor beside the mattress with one leg curled up and his arm resting on the bent knee. He’d tied his long hair into a knot at the base of his neck. His wings arced over him, and his tail was tucked along his leg.
The Drake was completely naked. The scattered lights picked up every detail of muscle, skin, and bone.
“You have drawn dragons,” he rumbled when I froze in the doorway. “Have you ever drawn a Drake?”
My mouth opened, and closed again. “No.” My voice did not sound like my own.
His brow tweaked. “Have you practiced drawing from real life?”
I bit my lip. “I usually just do it from my imagination.”
He gestured to the mattress. “It was the best I could do on short notice,” he said apologetically. “Better than sitting onthe floor.”
“You’re sitting on the floor,” I pointed out.
One corner of his lips twitched up. “I can stand, if you would rather.”
Sitting, certain things were hidden by his lifted leg. Standing, he would be revealed in all his significant glory.
I doubted that would help my accuracy any.
“Sitting is fine,” I said quickly, and settled to the mattress. My fingers shook as I took out my pencils and began to sketch him.
The light was particularly challenging, coming as it did from multiple points. But the familiarity of rendering something three dimensional to paper relaxed me. I quickly found myself immersed in my craft.
I’d only been at it a few minutes when he said, “That looks worthy. Do you ever”—he hesitated—“experiment?”
I eyed him. “Like how?”
He reached out with the arm he’d braced on his knee. “Take my hand.”
I hesitantly obeyed. It wasn’t as broad as Xandros’s. The fingers were proportionately longer, the bones close beneath the skin. I traced my own along his fingers, noting the strength despite the flexibility.
“Now draw it.” His voice was slightly hoarse.
