Amy didn’t believe him. “How can you feel the same way? You have so much more experience.”

He stroked her long hair tumbling gracefully from her loose bun. Sure, he had more experience in bed, but she had him beat in confessions and honesty. And he was beginning to think they both had the same level of experience with true, naked, beautiful love.

But there was no way he would confess that. Not even to her. “Trust me.”

A disbelieving smile crossed her face. Then, she stroked his cheek, as though she’d made a decision to trust him after all.

His heart shredded into pieces and glued back together into a new shape. Did she honestly trust him? He was terrified to push her and find out…

Pyro woke in Amy’s bed.

Her phone alarm buzzed urgently. She moaned, threw an arm across his chest, fumbled for the device, and shut it off. She rolled back and sighed.

Rumpled in the bed, her sweet curves pressed against him and his hard cock wedged against her derriere. She nestled against him, her hips wiggling.

Last night she’d confessed everything to him. That she didn’t want a divorce despite his serious backslide of immature, burn-it-all-down antics. How this relationship was changing her. And how she wanted to see it through to the other side together.

He didn’t deserve her.

But he wanted her.

And Pyro was okay with taking what he wanted even when he didn’t deserve it. Hell, someday he might.

He moved her thick red hair and kissed her neck.

She sighed and curved seductively, pressing her backside against his hardening cock.

He sucked on the delicate skin while his hand curled around and cupped her breast.

She pressed against his hand, swelling with an adorable hungry moan. He massaged her and then slid his hand over her curvy belly to the slit between her legs. She was hot and wet.

“I can’t,” she moaned, pressing her desire harder against him. “I’m going to be late.”

He bent her leg, exposing her channel, and positioned his cock to her entrance. “We’ll fly.”

She made little sounds of pleasure as he slid his hard length into her tight grip. Her channel squeezed him and she moved her hips, accepting his thrusts and quickening them. He pinched her nipple and teased her earlobe.

She gasped his name and arched.

Her channel gripped him rhythmically milking his cock with her orgasm. He gave into her body’s demands and unloaded into her throbbing womb.

She lay, skin glowing with sheen and satisfaction, in his arms where she belonged. He’d never been happier. This was the woman he wanted in his bed. Always.

So he better not screw it up.

She sucked in a breath and wriggled free. “Ugh. Can I just stay in bed?”

He kissed the crown of her red head. “You have my permission.”

“Just kidding.” She oozed out of the bed and crawled across the floor. “Shower. I need a shower.”

He snuck out of her apartment while she was in the shower, careful to avoid her roommate, and crossed the brisk, early morning to get a suit from his office and make a few other quick stops. When she texted to demand where he was, he told her to come outside. She met him on the front step with surprise.

He handed her a caramel mocha and a sweet-scented paper bag. “Chocolate croissant.”

“I shouldn’t.” But the glow in her eyes as she eagerly sniffed the mocha and opened the bag told her real feelings.

“Just today,” he agreed, without meaning it, and lifted her into the sky.

Carrying her carefully across the city, he made sure she had enough time to eat if she wished before depositing her outside the gates to the private school.

Her phone buzzed as she was crumpling the bag, and she looked at the screen and grimaced.

“Bad news,” he guessed, taking the bag.

“My mom wants me to come over. But there’s no way that’s going to be a short conversation.” She pressed a hand to her forehead like it pained her. “Ugh. My lesson plan isn’t going well. Like Melody, I don’t want to see anyone until after the demo class.”

Right. He could respect that. “Not even me.”

She hesitated and kissed him. “Except you.”

Did he hear her right?

A mischievous smile curved her lips. She hurried into the gates with his contraband mocha. “I’ll text you.”

His heart swelled with promise.

He watched her disappear into the grounds, nodded at an overly curious security guard who cautiously nodded back, and then soared into the clean morning air, startling the man.

Amy trusted him. She had faith. He needed to not screw this up.

He just needed to not screw this up.

Pyro returned to the office and called a meeting to lay out his ideas for the counter-proposal, taking their feedback and re-shaping it.

“Sard will hear our counter offer on Thursday night,” Alex said, organizing with his counterpart at Carnelian Clothiers.

“No,” Pyro declared. “I can meet Thursday morning or anytime on Friday.”

His siblings studied him worriedly.

“You shouldn’t antagonize him at this stage,” Alex advised. “Considering how radical our proposal is we should make every effort to meet him at his convenience.”

“I have an existing appointment on Thursday night,” he growled. “Reschedule.”

They blinked at him. He read their thoughts on their surprised faces. What appointment could he possibly have that was more important? Sure, he hadn’t had anything worth scheduling before. This time he did, and they could get used to it. He was a vice president.

“Mal is returning to orbit later tonight,” Jasper said, switching the subject to the other most important topic.

“He can go over the proposal if he wants to make changes,” Pyro said.

“I meant that Mother is going to be reachable also. You should introduce Amy.”

“I will do so on Friday.”

They regarded him with worry.

“That’s close to the deadline,” Amber said.

“Mother won’t like it,” Jasper said. “She may become upset.”

“Amy has an important work event. She’s asked for no interruptions until Friday.”

His siblings looked at each other and then at him.

Jasper finally spoke. “Don’t you find it worrying that she continues to refuse to work for us?”

“No,” Pyro said. “I don’t.”

Jasper blinked.

Alex took up his question. “It is tradition for dragons to marry into a company.”

“She’s not a dragon. And she has a job she loves. I’m not going to force her to give up her passion and neither are any of you. We’re on Earth now. We’ll make our own traditions.”

His brothers stared.

Amber gave a small smile.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s very reasonable of you,” she said.

He snorted and stood. “What did you expect?”

The meeting finished. He worked the rest of the day and into the night finessing the details of the plan as well as conferencing with his individual siblings and company managers to work out minor issues related to running a successful company on the brink of a great precipice.

Then, Amy texted him, and he flew to her for a late night recharge in her deliciously soft arms. She was tired and seemed discouraged so he relaxed her in all the ways he knew how. She purred for him her satisfaction.

With her permission, he crawled out of bed and returned to the office in time to talk with his older brother, Mal, via the 3 AM broadcast to Draconis when atmospheric conditions gave them the clearest connection.

Mal congratulated him on his marriage and refused to review the counter proposal.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he said with a forced smile.

Then, he mouthed silently, “Send it.”

His wife, shy Cheryl, appeared on the screen as she wrapped her arms around his midsection. “You’re not telling Pyro to send you the contract secretly, are you?”

He fluffed her hair. “I promised no work during our honeymoon.”

“That’s right. And your mom’s blocking your mail so there’d be no point.” She blew the overly long, plain brown hair out of her eyes and smiled at the screen. “Hi, Pyro.”

“Cheryl,” he acknowledged.

It was something of a miracle his workaholic brother Mal had ever looked up from his reports long enough to see a female, but he could have done much worse than the shy former intern, Cheryl. She was one of the few humans who had always treated Pyro normally. Her eyes had only ever focused on Mal. That faithful attention had finally been rewarded when Mal woke up and realized she was there.

Just like Pyro’s faithful attentions would be rewarded by Amy when he kept it together, saved the company, successfully delivered his counter offer to Sard, and introduced her to his mother. All without screwing up.

He just had to make it a few more days...

Cheryl dragged Mal off to finish their honeymoon, and Pyro’s older brother went with a long-suffering but clearly pleased expression.

Pyro pulled a Mal and spent the rest of the night in his office. Finessing the counter offer contract, going over the advice Mal had given him over the years for how to present counter offers, delving deep into his subject. He didn’t mean to spend the whole night, but Thursday dawned and his eyes were gritty when he laid his head down for just a moment…

Amy’s phone call buzzed him awake. “I forgot my bag!”

He squinted at the screen. Midmorning; he’d gotten a few hours on his couch. He stretched and rubbed his kinked neck. “Where is it?”

“On the back of the chair on the dining room table. I called Melody, but she’s not home and neither is Josh. I’m so sorry. It has today’s plan and everything!”

He rose. “The plan for your demonstration lesson?”

“Yes! And for the afternoon class, too.”

He checked the time. Still a few hours before he met with Sard. Alex had set the meeting for earlier. No matter what, Pyro would ensure it was over by the time of Amy’s demonstration class. He wanted to be the kind of reliable male she could count on.

“I’ll get it.”

“Would you?” She sighed on the phone. “You’ll have to come to the school first and get my key. I’m so sorry.”

“No problem.” He rose up the shaft, burst from the building, and flew across the cities split by the Columbia River. The sun fragmented over storm clouds. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll meet you at the gate.”

She did as she’d promised, pressing her apartment key into his hand with a grateful kiss on his lips. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

He grinned, warming from her words. “Remember who’s the hero when you’re giving out rewards.”

She laughed, looking brighter and more hopeful than she had in days. Wired. She tasted like sugar and coffee. “You can count on it.”

He hummed under his breath as he flew back across Portland. It was great to be alive. The bitter anger that always chased him with the unfairness of the world faded away under the warmth of the sun.

Only a few more hours and everything would come together. He’d get his reward — all his rewards — and could spend the rest of his life enjoying new contentment and prosperity.

Who would have thought a screw-up, no-good, wretched bastard like him could find a happy ending with a smart, sweet, irresistible woman like Amy?

He landed on Amy’s balcony, and then remembered her key only worked for the front door, and had to enter the building from the lobby, taking the elevator to her floor and crossing the carpet.

Huh. Her door hung conveniently open.

He entered the familiar apartment. Neatly stacked camisoles were now organized by color.

His phone buzzed again. Amy.

“Did you find it?” she asked.

“I just got to your apartment. Your door was open.”

“Melody must have gotten home. The front door hangs unless you pull it hard. But we’re in a good neighborhood and our neighbors are used to it.”

“I’ll close it when I leave.” He shut the door firmly. “Nice stacks.”

“Melody’s convinced that we need to open an eBay store just for— Yes! I’ll be right there! — Okay, I’ve got to go.”

“Go already,” he laughed.

“Hurry up! The teacher can’t have her cell phone out in class.”

“Alright, alright.”

She hung up.

He laughed at the phone and rested his hand on the kitchen counter. There, hanging on the back of a kitchen chair, was Amy’s book bag packed to overflowing with her notepads, pens, and materials. He picked it up. It was as heavy as it looked.

The roommate’s door opened. A man stepped out. Older, gray, and balding, with thick glasses.

Pyro sighed. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any trouble. “I’m a friend of Amy’s. She asked me to pick up her bag.”

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. There was something in his other hand. “Are you a lizard alien?”

Lizard alien? People didn’t tend to describe dragons as lizards. “Why are you—”

The man lifted his hand.

Electricity arced across the room and jolted into Pyro. His teeth snapped together hard enough to ache. Hot claws slashed his skin, forcing his scales to the surface and underneath his human skin again. He collapsed, paralyzed.

The man stood over him and pressed the device to his forehead.

He tried to tense but his muscles didn’t respond. They felt solid as lead.

Don’t screw up…