From Onyx Dragons: Malachite...
Mal rested his fists on the desk and leaned over her. “Are you currently married?”
She sat up straight and gripped her tablet in both hands. “No.”
“Are you capable of mating?”
Mating? Her hoodie suddenly felt too hot and tight. Every time she looked at him, she was extremely capable. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“Do you desire sex for the purpose of producing dragonlets?”
Sex. Dragonlets. That was what they called their babies.
Oh god.
He knew. All those times she’d been watching him. Eating him up. Stalking him in her mind. All those times she’d brushed against him and thought he would never notice. He had noticed.
Hard shivers ran down her sides. How had this happened? She was quiet, she dressed like she hated her body, and she slipped unnoticed from class to the internship and home again in an infinite, boring cycle of deadlines that didn’t even matter. Except, of course, her final portfolio that would determine whether she graduated with job offers or starved in the street.
He had looked into her mind and read her fantasies. Her whole body pulsed, hot, as though he had opened her innermost secret diary and begun reading the pages. What else did he know?
Mal waited for her answer.
She pinched the sleeves of her hoodie, worrying the soft fabric.
He was not asking her to make babies together. No. There was no way. This was a misunderstanding. He wanted her to design wedding invitations. With baby dragonlets. Yes, that was what it was.
“Um…” Her throat closed, and she cleared it. “You mean…uh, do I want, uh…”
“Sex,” he supplied.
Her heart thundered. His direct answer seemed clear. She squeezed the hoodie sleeve. “With, uh, me and you? Us?”
“Yes.”
No way. No way. No way.
“Er…”
“Yes or no,” he said. “Answer.”
