Dorgan
Tonight, my mind is a damn mess, tangled up in Sasha.
I can still feel her in my arms, hear the sound of her laugh, taste her lips against mine. Every little detail from earlier replays over and over. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled at me. The soft flush in her cheeks. The way she curled into me like she felt safe there. And that irresistible scent of hers.
I groan under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair.
Hopeless. I'm completely blasted hopeless.
"You gonna start writing poetry next?" a voice drawls behind me.
I don't even have to turn around to know it's Myan.
"Go away," I mutter without any real heat.
He catches up easily, grinning like the smug bastard he is. "You've got that look, boss. All dreamy and s**t. I didn't think dragons could get like that."
