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Irish Alpha Dragons: (Irish Dragon Mafia: The Complete Series Books 1-4)




  Irish Alpha Dragons

  (Irish Dragon Mafia: The Complete Series Books 1-4)

  Maia Starr

  Copyright ©2021 by Maia Starr - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Contents

  Dragon Professor’s Baby

  Dragon Doctor’s Innocent Intern

  Dragon Sheriff’s Naughty Nanny

  Dragon Lawyer’s Runaway Bride

  About the Author

  Exclusive Offer

  Dragon Professor’s Baby

  (Irish Dragon Mafia)

  Book#1

  By Maia Starr

  Chapter 1

  Steph

  Steph had done the impossible: escaping a four-year abusive relationship and flying nearly all the way across the country to New York. Now, a stern woman with pursed lips and horn-rimmed glasses appeared to be her final obstacle. The woman didn’t introduce herself, but the nameplate on her desk read Dr. Irene Paris. She was the academic advisor.

  Dr. Paris looked away from her computer monitor towards Steph and, in a slow voice with just a hint of judgment, said, “It’s a bit late for you to be signing up for classes, Stephanie.”

  Nobody called her Stephanie. It’d always been Steph, so far as she could remember. At first, Steph didn’t even think the woman could be talking to her.

  “I...I didn’t know,” Steph said.

  Dr. Paris returned to her screen, clicking a few buttons. “We sent you several emails over the past month.”

  More judgment, which Steph chose to ignore. She’d dealt with enough passive aggression over the past five years of her life to know when it’s worth a fight and when it isn’t. It’s seldom worth it.

  “Oh, I must not have got them.”

  She had gotten those emails but also had to immediately delete them for fear that her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, Steph reminded herself with an inner smile—would find them and know that she was planning something. He’d always suspected she was up to something, but assumed it was another man.

  As Steph thought about it, she realized it’s a minor miracle that she made it there. Columbia only accepted the best of the best, and she thought she wasn’t going to make it on account of being a few years older than the other students. On top of that, she didn’t know that she could bring herself to escape Michael. Ever since she had gotten her acceptance back in March, she’d been keeping it a secret from him, looking forward to the day when she could finally escape.

  That day had finally arrived. She’d left at the crack of dawn, gotten on a plane, and now, she was talking to an academic advisor who seemed to be suggesting that perhaps, after making it through all those other steps, Steph wasn’t actually going to go to Columbia.

  But she wasn’t going to let one crotchety woman who hadn’t smiled since the Reagan era stand in her way.

  The academic advisor pushed her glasses up her face only to have them immediately fall back down, moved her head closer to the monitor, then tapped several keys on the keyboard. Steph half expected her to hit the side of her keyboard when she finished a line.

  “The problem, Stephanie, is that most of our classes are full. And actually…” She typed a few more lines then clicked something with the mouse. “...all of our honors general elective classes are full.”

  Steph could just take them another semester. She had plenty of time. “That’s okay.”

  “Not if you want to keep your scholarship, it’s not, hun.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in her voice. She may as well have been giving Steph a terminal diagnosis.

  “What do you mean?”

  Dr. Paris rolled her eyes and pulled out some forms on carbon paper from her desk.

  “Your scholarship requires you take one general elective honors class every semester for your first two years. This is why it’s important to read your emails.”

  “I’ll be sure to do so in the future,” Steph said with an unreciprocated smile.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Dr. Paris took out a pen and used it, pressing hard on the paper as she looked back and forth from the screen.

  For the first time since Steph arrived, Dr. Paris’s eyes lit up, and a smile crossed her face.

  “Oh,” the advisor said with a slight blush. She scribbled on the carbon paper and handed it to Steph.

  “What is it?”

  “If Professor Littman signs this, you can join his class.”

  “Okay,” Steph says.

  “You’re going to want to take his class.”

  “What’s the subject?”

  Dr. Paris giggled. It seems almost like Steph was talking to a different person. Is she playing a trick on me?

  “Philosophy, I believe, but it won’t matter. Trust me, Stephanie.”

  Was Steph mistaken? Was that a grin on Dr. Paris’s face?

  “Go take that to his office,” Dr. Paris continued. “Room 1132 in Philosophy Hall. Get his signature and bring it back here. Hurry now. It’s getting late in the day, and you don’t want to miss him.”

  “Thank you?” Steph said, unsure if she meant it. Something strange was going on.

  “You have no idea,” Dr. Paris said. “Maybe you can buy me a cup of coffee one day. Good luck!”

  Steph grabbed her backpack and headed toward the door.

  “Oh, and Steph?”

  Steph, surprised to finally hear her own name, turned back toward Dr. Paris, who was pulling something out of her desk drawer.

  “Could you be a dear and shut the door on your way out, please.”

  * * *

  Dr. Paris was correct: it was late in the day, later than Steph realized before she looked at her watch. And it became even later after she needed to ask several people for directions to find Philosophy Hall.

  She finally arrived and, after getting frustrated with the elevator, ran up the ten flights of stairs to Professor Littman’s office and knocked on the door. It wasn’t completely closed, however, and it swung open.

  Nothing could have prepared Steph for what she saw inside.

  At the first instant, she thought it was a bronze statue, but that didn’t make sense with the long blond hair flowing from his head. No, it wasn’t a statue at all. It was a man, perfectly formed, with well-defined back muscles—accented by a large tattoo of a four-leaf clover wrapped in...were those snakes?—and the most amazing ass Steph had ever seen in her life.

  And he was standing buck naked, looking through a cabinet with clothing in it, distracted with finding the right pair of boxer briefs. He looked out the window as if noticing a chill in the air, then turned back towards the door, noticing Steph.

  “Take a seat,” he said in a light Irish brogue, “I’ll just be a moment.”

  This man is a professor?

  She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Ordinary etiquette would suggest she apologize and step outside, but this man didn’t seem to notice at all.

  “Really,” he said, “take a seat.”

  The way he stood blocked her view of his front, though based on everything else in full view, Steph expected what was there would be nothing short of amazing.

  Without taking her eyes off of him—she knew she shouldn’t stare, and yet she couldn’t stop looking—she sat down in the seat
by his desk.

  He slid his boxer briefs on, which perfectly formed to his body, and, as she watched him pull them up, his legs were exposed: toned like an Olympic runner’s while still being as strong as a linebacker’s. When he slid the pants on over them, she realized she hadn't taken a breath since first opening the door and took in as much air as her lungs could handle.

  The man turned his head just enough for Steph to see a smile. He was enjoying this. She felt like the pervert, but he was the one getting off on it. It felt like a striptease in reverse for him. Was it planned? Steph didn’t think so. He wasn’t just standing naked in his office, waiting for someone to come in.

  With his pants on, he pulled a white shirt out of the cabinet and put his bulky arms into it. Steph worried that he might tear it, but his arm slid through: a perfect fit.

  He turned toward her and exposed his chest. No surprise there; if he wasn’t a professor, he could have been a professional model. She felt a strong desire to reach out and touch him, rubbing her hands over his Adonis figure.

  Control yourself, Steph, she thought while taking several mental pictures for later.

  Once the shirt was buttoned, he took his jacket from the back of his chair and slid it over himself to complete the outfit before sitting down across from Steph.

  “I apologize for the wait,” he said, with a sly smile on his face showing that he wasn’t actually sorry for any of it. “How can I help you?”

  You can take your clothes back off and we can go from there, Steph thought before telling herself to stop it and grow up.

  “I need you to sign…”

  She showed him the form, and he took it from her without taking his eyes away from hers.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Steph. Steph Roderick.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “I’m John.”

  “Oh,” Steph said. “I’m looking for Professor…” She trailed off. The name wasn’t in her memory anymore. Everything had been pushed out and replaced by John standing bare-ass naked in the corner of the room.

  “Littman,” John said. “Yes, that’s me, but please, call me John.”

  “I need to add your class to my schedule.” Every word was deliberate. She wanted to make sure she didn’t allude to what was really going on in her mind, though from the look on John’s face, he already knew.

  “You a hard worker?” he asked her. “Are you going to study hard and earn an A?”

  “Yes, sir.” I’m a very hard worker.

  “That’s what I want to hear.” He took out a pen and signed the form, removing the pink portion for his records, but didn’t quite hand it back to her. Not yet. “I’m curious, what interested you about Philosophy of Moral Ethics?”

  Philosophy of Moral Ethics? That’s what she’s signed up for? Half the thoughts she had since walking into the room should probably fail her from the class.

  “Well, to be honest…”

  “It’s a requirement, right?” He laughed. “You’re taking it because they’re forcing you to.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Not that I’m not interested in it.”

  “Tell me, Steph, did you even know what you were signing up for? It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

  She laughed at that, relaxing a little bit and falling back into her chair. “Not really, no.”

  “What are you interested in?”

  “I don’t know…” She felt slightly embarrassed. If he kept talking to her like this, she knew she was going to say something stupid. Her brain wasn’t working right now. It took all the energy in the world for her not to fall back into the image of his naked body, forever etched into her brain.

  She took a deep breath. We are taking you home right after this and taking an ice-cold shower, she thought before allowing herself another deep breath.

  “You don’t know? What are you majoring in? Why are you here?”

  Great! Easy question. “Biology. I’m pre-med.”

  “A future doctor in my office. That’s wonderful.”

  Are we going to just not talk about the fact that you were naked when I walked in here? Now she wasn’t even sure it really happened. Did she hallucinate it? She had been running on only two hours of sleep all day.

  “Ethics are very important to medicine,” Steph told him.

  “That they are.” He handed her back the top page of the form. “Steph, it was a true pleasure to meet you. I look forward to seeing you again in class.”

  “I look forward to seeing your ass again, too.”

  What did she just say? Did she say what she thought she did?

  “Pardon?”

  “I look forward to seeing you in class again, too.”

  His cheeks rose along with the hint of a smile as he winked at her. “That’s what I thought I heard. Have a good weekend.”

  She walked out of the office, equal parts mortified and turned on, frustrated that she’d have to wait through the long weekend until Tuesday to see him again.

  Chapter 2

  Aidan

  Steph, Steph, Steph

  Aidan kept repeating the name in his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to forget it—he knew that wasn’t going to happen—he just wanted to keep her in his mind as long as possible. Though it wasn’t likely she’d be leaving there anytime soon.

  How could she? She had a sexy innocence that got Aidan super hot under the collar and lips that he’d love to feel against his. Her hair was dark and smooth, surrounding a face with the most adorable freckles he’d ever seen. Mostly, though, he liked the way she looked at him with her big brown eyes that screamed innocence and refused to look away even as her face turned red. Many women found him attractive, but Steph, she had something wild inside her begging to be released.

  In that sense, she was a lot like Aidan.

  And the way they’d met, with her walking in on him naked? Just unbelievable. In his life in the Irish Mafia, Aidan had gotten through some tough situations. He’d had a gun pointed at him multiple times over the years, and even more times thought he was going to die, and yet having her walk into his office while he was still naked was, hands down, the most thrilling experience of his life. He couldn’t believe he’d made it through.

  But he did because he knew that the secret to getting away with something was to not let yourself get caught. If you acted like everything was normal, things tended not to stick. Above all else, he learned to avoid making excuses if he didn’t have to.

  His father taught him this trick when he was twelve, and he put it into practice immediately.

  He went to a corner store and stole a bag of M&Ms in clear view of the cashier and started eating them one by one. As he walked towards the exit, he turned toward that cashier, who looked like he was about to say something, and asked, “Anyone ever tell you look like...oh, what’s his name? You know...the guy who plays James Bond?”

  “Daniel Craig?”

  “No, no,” Aidan said. “Not the new one. The old one. With the dark hair.”

  “Pierce Brosnan?”

  “Yeah,” Aidan said. “Like a young version of Pierce Brosnan.”

  “No, I haven’t gotten that one,” the cashier said. Then, with a pause, “Once, someone said I looked like Ewan McGregor.”

  “Who?”

  “Obi-Wan Kenobi. You know, from Star Wars? The prequels?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Aidan said, “I can see it.” Then, as he walked out the door, “Take it easy.”

  And that was it. The cashier didn’t actually look like either of the two actors, but Aidan distracted him. And, more than that, it made Aidan look like the innocent one. He paid the cashier a compliment and acted like nothing was wrong. It would have been rude for the cashier to turn around and accuse Aidan of stealing.

  That same idea, escalated, was how he ended up at the university. The skill came second nature to him. He didn’t even bat an eye when Steph walked in. There wasn’t any reason for him to bring up the fact that he was naked. She knew he was naked and if s
he really wanted to know why, she could ask. But she didn’t because he acted like everything was normal.

  And because she wanted to keep staring.

  Just one of the many reasons it was great to be a dragon.

  Naturally, the whole time, he kept wondering what she looked like naked. If he was feeling incredibly ballsy, he would have tried getting her out of her clothes, but he was already pushing his luck.

  Fortunately, he’d always had plenty of luck.

  Just one of the many reasons it was great to be Irish.

  * * *

  Right before Steph had come in, Aidan had been outside his office, flying high above the clouds, out of sight of the students. It was the only way for him to get his energy out. At thirty, Aidan had reached the age where dragons start to look for a mate. It’s not like the way it is with humans. Dragons don’t just want to find someone to spend their lives with; they need to find that someone.

  Once he thought he’d taken care of his strongest urges, he headed back to his office and, in a move that he’d perfected through years of practice, shifted and shrunk back into his human form as he aimed towards the open window, then hurled himself inside with a gentle roll. And, after shifting back into a human, as usual, he was naked.

  In the past, that flight would have left him feeling good for at least a day or two, but the second he landed, it felt like he hadn’t left at all. And when Steph walked in, he understood why.

  He had to take care of that itch the old-fashioned way, and Steph was the only one who could scratch it. There’s a kind of imprinting process with dragons that Aidan had been taught about all his life. Once the right one comes around, a dragon will start firing on all cylinders and won’t stop until he has her as his own. Aidan didn’t realize it at first, but even her being on campus was setting his fires ablaze. Normally, he could wait until he got home to go for a flight, but not today.