Dragon VIP- Syenite, page 1
part #7 of 7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Series
Dragon VIP: Syenite
7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires ~ Novella
Starla Night
Copyright © 2018 Starla Night
All rights reserved.
Cover by Earthly Charms.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Special Thanks
Syenite
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Also by Starla Night
Dragon VIP Malachite
About the Author
Special Thanks
to Kara Lockharte for lighting a fire under me, so to speak.
Blurb
Disgraced dragon shifter Syenite “Syen” Pyroxene craves a mate. But the plain, impassive bodyguard will never catch the attention of a female. Especially one covered in the bold, exotic rainbow colors dragons find irresistible — like her.
Eva is big-hearted, big-boned, and big everything. Her sparkle obsession? Just one more barrier guys can’t get past to see the passionate woman within.
Until Syen.
The huge, hard-bodied male makes her look like a delicate pixie. He’s unreadable except when he’s kissing her senseless.
Can she trust his desire when he won’t even take off his shades?
These two wounded souls won’t easily risk their hearts—but they must. Dark forces from Syen’s past are circling Earth’s atmosphere, and Eva’s the only one who can save him…
This stand-alone novella contains a happy ending! Plus steamy love scenes, unicorn farts with extra glitter, and a big, beautiful woman who finally finds her dream lover. No cheaters, no cliff-hangers, and satisfaction guaranteed. Enjoy this side-story about one of the rival dragons in Carnelian Clothiers and start reading the dragon shifters of Draconis today!
Syenite
Mottled red, pink, grey, or white. Essentially similar to granite. Particularly resistant to breakdown.
Syenites are not very common rocks.
~ The Larousse Guide to Minerals, Rocks, and Fossils, W.R. Hamilton et al, 1974
Chapter One
Someday, your prince will come, Eva’s grandmother had promised while painting her little ten-year-old nails with magical purple sparkles. And he won’t forget your birthday like your snot-for-brains father.
But someday never came.
For two decades.
Eva stumbled to the student bar and raised her rainbow-sparkle fingernails. In comparison to the kids jostling around her, she felt ridiculously old. “One ‘Unicorn Farts’ cocktail, please.”
Tonight’s bartender, her fellow part-time art school teacher Chloe, shouted. “What?”
“Unicorn Farts!” Eva shouted back. The techno music pounded in her skull and she hadn’t even tasted alcohol yet. “Extra glitter!”
“A single?”
“Like always.”
Chloe slid the rainbow-cream drink, topped with whipped cream and multi-color sanding sugar, to her. “Where’s your date?”
“He couldn’t make it.”
Chloe’s smile faltered.
No. They were not feeling pity today of all days.
Eva lifted her credit card. “Start my tab!”
“Forget that!” Chloe leaned forward so she could lower her voice to a normal volume. “Happy birthday.”
Ugh.
Eva tasted her drink to hide her cringe. Smooth, creamy, sweet. Delicious birthday cake vodka burned her tongue. “Thanks!”
Chloe pointed to the crowded floor where their friends were dancing. “Everyone’s waiting to celebrate!”
“Okay!”
Chloe headed to serve the next customer.
Eva squeezed free of the bar.
All her friends were expecting her to bring a date. And she’d gone to drastic measures to ensure she would. Ensure she wasn’t stuck on the sidelines, waving cheerfully whenever anyone glanced in her direction, pretending she wasn’t watching her skinny friends hook up with envy.
No. She couldn’t handle friends right now.
Eva turned away from the dance floor and swigged her drink. Her fluorescent pink lipstick glowed on the rim. The bar was ringed with black lights.
Maybe it was the unicorn sparkles talking, but a new idea struck her like a shiny horn between the eyes.
She was at a bar. How hard was it to pick up a date at a bar?
Seriously. How hard was it? She’d never had the guts to try.
Someday, your prince will come.
Sorry, Grandma, but he’d had his chance. Two decades’ worth. Time for Eva to take matters into her own hands.
She took a deeper drink. How many shots were in this glass? Not enough. Ah, there it was. Liquid courage sizzled into her veins.
She scanned the bar.
Kids — or, she should say, students — filled the tables and bopped in the open spaces.
Oh, wait. The guy leaning against the grungy pillar. He had promise.
Chiseled jaw, bulging biceps, icy demeanor. Reflective sunglasses hid his eyes — indoors, in a bar, at night? Mysterious. And hot. The dark black-on-black suit whispered mystery.
Most importantly, he looked over the age of thirty. An adult. And no girlfriend hung off his arm.
Great.
He casually surveyed bar like he was checking out the clientele, not like he was looking for anyone in particular. And he wasn’t drinking, but hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem.
She marched up to him. It was quieter next to the pillar. She wouldn’t have to scream in his face to be heard.
The man focused on her. Probably. It was impossible to tell with those reflective shades.
“Hi!” She waved. “I noticed you’re alone. I’m alone too. Today’s my thirtieth birthday. Want to be my birthday date?”
Chapter Two
Alien dragon shifter Syenite “Syen” Pyroxene stared at the glittering human female standing before him.
Was this a dream?
Her ample chest spilled from her tight pink velveteen blouse cinched with a matching corset. A short, purple skirt hugged her grippable thighs. Sparkly green and gold powder dusted her eyelids and cheeks in dramatic swirls. Cheerful blue hair streaked with feminine pink and powerful violet caressed her shoulders.
No, she was not a dream.
She was a goddess.
All colors and sparkles and curves. Extra large curves. He had never imagined such a woman could exist and now she was standing before him and asking for his company.
Had his translator malfunctioned?
“I’d buy you a drink,” she bargained, a hopeful smile still spreading her luscious pink lips.
His translator had been accurate.
His jaw dropped. “Your date?”
“Yeah.” She waved over her shoulder in the direction of the front door. “Mine kind of had a last-minute thing.”
“He had to wash his hair.”
“You saw that.” Her smile fled. She covered her butterfly-lined eyes. “It’s what I get for accepting an invitation from a dude off a website.”
What the hell is wrong with your hair? The pot-bellied male had snapped at her just outside the bar while Syen had been passing by. There’s not enough beer in the world. No way.
“He was concerned about your hair.”
“Oh my god, you heard that too?” She shuddered. “Let’s pretend it never happened. If you’re alone like me then why not share a few drinks together?”
Why not?
Well…
“It doesn’t have to last forever. Just an hour or two.” She hugged an elbow to her side. “It’s lonely spending a birthday alone.”
Ah. He understood now.
She was not interested in him as a male.
His heart squeezed.
This glittering, dreamy goddess deigned to offer a few hours of her company because it was her special celebration day. She had come up to him, one of the rare dragon shifters on her planet, to make a memory.
This was likely his only opportunity to spend any time with such a dramatically decorated female.
He had to take this chance.
“Excuse me.” Syen touched the black noise-canceling earbud in his left ear. “Boss.”
“Approach.”
Syen pushed off the dingy column and wove through the crowds to powerful dragon shifter Sard Carnelian.
Massive shoulders crammed into a pink button-up shirt with a white undershirt. Huge thighs filled the largest pair of jeans. Aristocratic silver ingots punctured his face and filled his teeth, and silver flecked his bald head.
He nursed a cherry cola at one of the tables. His heavyweight bulk and aristocratic bearing kept the nearest humans away, making Syen’s job as his bodyguard significantly easier.
“Sir,” Syen said softly.
Sard Carnelian sipped his drink. “Seen our artist?”
“Not yet.”
The heavyweight male rested his soda on the table. “What is it?”
“There is a woman. A female. She has asked me to spend time as her ‘birthday date.’”
“Now? You’re on duty.”
Syen remained silent.
Frowning, his boss looked over Syen’s shoulder. “The blonde?”
He shook his head.
“Brunette?”
“No.”
“Other brun
“That is a male.”
His boss grunted. “Some are hard to tell.”
He acknowledged that the males and females on this planet did select non-traditional clothing. “She is the female with the purple, blue, and pink hair.”
His boss’s jaw went slack. “She’s here alone?”
“Her previous date suffered a nervous breakdown. He babbled about her hair and the limited amount of beer in the world before leaving her here alone.”
His boss’s expression softened. A female as attractively shaped and colored as Eva would cause any male to go crazy guarding her. Everyone would wish for her as his mate. No wonder the stress had exceeded his tolerance.
And she had asked for Syen as a replacement. A second miracle.
He would make her glad to have chosen him.
Sard’s eyes narrowed. “Does she know…?”
His gut clenched.
No, she did not know he was unworthy. Once, he could have offered her an elevated position on Draconis, the adoration of the planet, and the grandeur of his estate. Riches and privileges. Pure aristocracy dominated his bloodline.
Once.
“…about your eyes?”
His hand went to his opaque tactical glasses. Despite the riches and privileges, his hideous ugliness had been present even as a full-blooded aristocrat. “I will remain shielded.”
“She will be angry when she discovers the truth.”
“Our time is limited to two hours.”
Sard’s eyes narrowed as he divined Syen’s true hope. She might never discover his eyes. He finally turned his big shoulder away. “Keep me in your field of vision.”
His heart soared. “Sir.”
“Go.”
Syen turned on his heel. His black business jacket flared, revealing more of the black shirt beneath, and he strode swiftly to where he had left his female.
She’d turned away and was scanning the bar crowd.
Searching for another replacement already?
She slurped the last of her drink as she caught sight of him at her elbow and choked.
Coughing and gasping, she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’re back! I thought you’d made a fast escape.”
Escape? “I had to requests permission from my boss.”
She sniffed and dabbed. “Boss?”
He pointed.
Her moist eyes widened. “That’s your—? He, uh, he looks… What did you say your job was?”
“Bodyguard.”
Her head whipped around. “Here? For him? Are you expecting trouble?”
No. Their nearest rivals did not frequent this bar. “We are expecting an artist.”
“Artist? Like a tattoo artist?”
“Silver.”
She looked confused.
Sard was looking for new button and accessory designs. “He owns Carnelian Clothiers.”
“Clothes?” She blinked rapidly, then shrugged. “Sure. Okay. Why not?”
“Why not what?”
She waved off the question. “Did he say yes? How about that drink!”
“What would you like?”
“That’s my question! I offered to buy you a drink.”
“Please allow me this small privilege.”
“But you don’t have to.”
He did not have to. Providing her with a food or drink he had hunted was the most basic offering from a male to the female he wished to treasure. Whether on Draconis or on Earth, the act was the same.
If she would allow it.
He waited.
“Um. Did you really want to?”
“It would be my greatest pleasure.”
Her smile softened. She glanced down at her nearly empty glass. “Another one of these would be good, I guess.”
“Wait here.”
He wove through the crowd to the bar, always keeping both his female and Sard in his angle of vision, and shouldered to the counter.
At the counter to his left, a young male was supplicating a haughty woman. “Come on. Ask your boss for a break. Let’s go outside and—”
“No.”
“But—”
“Look. I’m not your girlfriend, okay? Last week was just a hook up.” She tossed her hair and moved down the counter to Syen. “What can I get you?”
The male looked after her with sadness.
Syen’s chest tightened in empathy. His brother had worn the same sad expression when his ex-wife had rejected him.
Then, she’d gone on a rampage and destroyed their estate.
“Hon?” the woman prompted.
Syen placed his order and the haughty female returned with two glasses. She took his black, unlimited credit card with both hands as though afraid she would drop it.
He carried the drinks to his female. Ironically, the drinks illustrated their differences. One, a swirled multi-color confection of light. The other, plain dark cola.
His female hugged her elbows while she stood near the pillar. She had waited.
He swallowed his nervous-happy apprehension.
Earth females did not belch fire but there were still many ways they could cause injury. In Syen’s case, the easiest would simply be refusing his offering of a drink, hanging her head in disgust, and walking away.
He held out the colorful offering.
She brightened and reached for the cocktail. “Thank you!”
She accepted his offering.
Her grateful smile washed over him like a bright ray of sunshine. His mouth went dry. He couldn’t speak. He sipped his cola.
She pointed through the crowd. “I think there’s a table.” Turning, she started for it.
The feminine sway of her wide hips accented the curve of her derriere. Beneath the skirt, her long legs were decorated with lacy lavender dragons.
Destiny.
No, no. Dragons were popular mythological figures. She might have acquired these tights before the last five years when very real Draconis spaceships suddenly appeared over Earth’s startlingly blue skies.
The standing table she targeted was being approached by a rowdy group of young human males. His tactical glasses printed their approach vector and calculated they would reach the table before his female.
Syen cut between bar patrons and slipped in front of her so he reached the table at the same time as the males. He put his hand on the slim wood as the first one reached it. The young male started to protest, still laughing, and the group spread out to appear larger.
He lightened the opacity of his black shades.
Their eyes widened and they stopped laughing.
“It’s yours, dude,” the closest one said and backed off. The others moved away, silent.
He darkened the opacity again.
His female moved around his elbow and set her drink on the table beside him. “Well, that was nice. Getting a table around here is usually impossible.”
“Nice,” he echoed and savored another wave of her sparkling smile.
“Thanks again for this.” She stepped on an overturned cup beneath the table. “Oh!”
Her tall black wedges wobbled and her ankle rolled. She fell sideways into him.
He gripped her elbow.
She leaned her full weight against him, nearly collapsing in his arms.
He cushioned her like a precious gem.
Her gentle back curved, inviting his caress. Breasts pillowed his forearm under textured pink velveteen. He wanted to stroke it, first the soft way, and then rough-soft the opposite direction.
Her sparkly skin beneath the velveteen would be even softer.
His cock twitched.
She straightened and stepped out of his arms. “Oh my god. I am so sorry!”
She was sorry.
He let her go. She was sorry to be in his arms. “The fault is mine.”
