Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 62488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Tell her, Perdita urged.
No, I snapped. She’s not ready.
Fool boy.
I mentally flipped Perdita off.
And I was sent back a mental picture of me jacking off only moments before.
Don’t you dare, I shot back.
Brooklyn’s eyes went wide and surprised, and I knew seconds later that Perdita felt it her God given womanly duty to protect all woman kind.
Which was why she’d shared it with Brooklyn.
I sometimes thought that Perdita didn’t really want me as a dragon rider.
Sometimes, I felt that she secretly hated me at times.
I don’t hate you. I just think, sometimes, it’s good for you to come down a few pegs, she said reassuringly.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
Brooklyn jumped, then her eyes went back to my dick once more before she turned around.
“Do you want pancakes?” she asked as she walked away.
I followed behind her slowly, studying her gait.
She looked like she hadn’t been lying in bed for days and days upon end.
Her ass was tight, from what little I could see of it.
Her legs trim and toned.
She was wearing my grey shirt that I could’ve sworn I’d thrown in the wash last night, as well as a pair of pants I’d unearthed from a box in her suite where I’d stowed all her belongings.
They were about two inches too long; even the small size seemed to bag on her ass.
Which meant that my t-shirt swamped her.
Later this afternoon, I planned on taking her into the city to find her clothes that fit.
Something that I really, really didn’t want to do.
I didn’t do shopping.
In fact, the last time I’d stepped foot in a mall, willingly, was when I was fourteen and wanted a cookie from The Cookie Factory in the mall’s food court.
I was what one would call a loner.
I didn’t do big events. I didn’t do movies. I didn’t do dates.
I really didn’t do malls.
But I would go for Brooklyn, even if it’d give me hives to do so.
“Yeah,” I said, following closely behind her into the kitchen. “I could go for some pancakes, but how about you let me make them.”
My suggestion was met with a glare from her part.
“I think you’ve done quite enough for me the last couple of days. And I feel fine, so you just sit and watch the master work,” she ordered.
Needless to say, I sat.
Then I watched as she pulled a covered bowl out of the fridge and walked to the skillet that was surprisingly already hot.
Just how long had she been waiting for me to get up?
“There was something crawling along the ledge of my window this morning around five,” she said once she placed the first round circle of batter on the skillet in front of her.
I blinked.
“That would probably be one of the terrible trio,” I guessed.
She tilted her head slightly and looked at me over her shoulder.
I jerked my eyes away from my contemplation of her ass, and gave her my attention.
“A blue dragon?” she confirmed.
I nodded.
She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t them. I looked for them thinking it was them, too. But I found the three of them by the pool, each lying on their own lawn chair.”
I pursed my lips, then got up to look outside.
Our kitchen had a sliding glass door that faced the back patio, and I could see the whole yard clearly.
The pool was centered in the middle of the back two wings.
The left side belonged to Keifer, and the right side belonged to me.
I looked to the right side of the house and studied what was Brooklyn’s window.
The longer I looked, the more I could make out tiny claw marks on the outside.
The likes of which would only belong to a tiny dragon such as the three innocent looking dragons that were lying on the steps that led down to the yard.
“I’m fairly positive it was one of them. They’re pretty good at fooling us when they want you to come play with them. If they ever do that again let me know and I’ll throw up a ward on your window that’ll keep them away,” I said over my shoulder.
She blinked, then turned back to her pancakes.
Once she flipped them, she turned back to me.
“What’s a ward?” she asked.
I grimaced.
If I told her too much, then she’d get into the semantics of my abilities, and I didn’t want to tell her all of that yet.
“A ward is a sort of protection. I designed them, then programmed them myself.” I hesitated, “It’s more like an imaginary line that animals, or humans, can’t cross. You know that feeling when you don’t want to go somewhere, and your mind’s screaming at you not to go near it? It’s kind of like that. I have one over this entire property.”
In reality, I’d managed to sync my ability to weave illusions into a computer program. Together, with Perdita, I offered a full protection of the estate and the area surrounding the estate for about fifty miles.