Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
She actually thought he was a real stripper? Strange that she wasn’t picking up on his good breeding and deadly vibes.
“Yes, well, I have friends who are passionate about philanthropy,” he lied. “Allow me to make a few calls. How much?”
“Fifty thousand, but that doesn’t count any emergencies.”
“Tell you what, Jac; you help me convince Dash to do what male dragons were born to do, and I will get you one hundred thousand dollars. Do we have a deal?”
Her green eyes lit up. “Ye-yes! Can you really get that much money?”
Damien had enough wealth to last him ten lifetimes. Or twenty if you went by 1800s standards.
“I can have the money to you tomorrow, after our dragon has successfully spread his seed.” Damien would help Jac regardless, but he wanted to do this one last thing for Sky.
Even if she laughed at my pelvic-thrust moves. She hadn’t been laughing in bed. So who’s really missing out now? Ha!
“Okay, so what do I have to do?” Jac asked. “How do I convince him to, errr…mate?”
“He seems to like you, so maybe just ask for his help.”
“And if he says no?” she asked.
“You are a very beautiful woman. Try crying.” It works on me.
“Crying?” She arched an amber brow. “I’ll convince him some other way.”
Seduce him. Yes, wonderful idea. Sex also worked on Damien.
“Good luck. Here is my number.” Damien handed Jac his card. “I wrote the stripper’s address on the back.” He’d gotten it off the internet. I guess finding dragons isn’t so difficult when you know where to look.
Her green eyes quickly scanned the card. “This says you’re a tailor.”
“Side hustle. You know how stripper life can be. Good nights, bad nights.”
“Yeah, you’re never going to get rich taking off your shirt,” she said with pity.
Rude.
She added, “Maybe Dash can show you some moves.”
Damien smiled tightly, feeling the sting of her comment on every level. A man such as himself did not need anyone’s help to get by in life. Or in the art of seduction. He could be quite the scallywag when he wanted. “I will keep that in mind.”
Jac left the hotel lobby with a head full of questions and a stomach filled with angst. It would take months, if not years, to fully digest what she’d learned tonight, but that Damien stripper seemed really desperate for her immediate help. Of course, that wasn’t why she’d agreed to do this. It wasn’t even about the money he’d promised.
Dragons are real. And if she didn’t convince Dash to give up the testi-goods, his kind would disappear forever.
Not that the world would notice, given how no one knew dragons existed, but she knew. And the idea of such a rare creature going the way of the dodo broke her heart. So if she could prevent their end, she had to do it.
After all, saving exotic animals was her calling. It was why she’d stuck with the sanctuary all these years when it was grueling, thankless, backbreaking work. So if not her, who else would come to the aid of dragons?
The question was, would Dash change his mind?
As she headed toward his place, she mentally thumbed through her options. Damien had suggested that she reason with Dash, but the more she considered it, the less she liked the idea. Mostly because while Dash might be abrasive, he didn’t come across as dumb. So telling him something he already knew, like his species would die out if he didn’t man up, wasn’t going to help. It was a waste of time appealing to his sense of duty or to his heart.
If she wanted Dash to play balls, she’d need to motivate him some other way.
How does a woman convince a stubborn, cocky, rude man—I mean dragon—to share the love? She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Maybe I should tranq him again.
No, no. He’ll just escape like last time. Also, forcing him to procreate felt a little rapy.
Hmmm… If reasoning with the guy wouldn’t work, and forcing him was a no-go, then that left one other option.
She turned right, heading toward the store for supplies.
Cimil popped a Twinkie in her mouth and chewed twice before letting its sticky sweet goodness slide down her throat. “Don’t forget the sparkles, Minky. You know how I like my toenails to reflect my ominous aura when I gaze at them.”
Minky grumbled and reached for the rainbow sprinkles nail polish while Cimil enjoyed the deep-tissue-massage chair.
“Grumble, grumble,” said Minky.
“No, you can’t go back into that woman’s body,” Cimil said. “The last time you possessed her, she lost all her teeth. You know humans can’t eat missiles. Or grenades, monster trucks, sea turtles, moon rocks, airports, or unicycles.” Poor toothless Nancy. Unfortunately, Cimil hadn’t had a choice but to commandeer a human suit for Minky. Someone needed to carry out the plan that involved the club while Cimil was out of town, taking care of important details.