Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,56
yourself, I’d rather try my luck somewhere else.”
A booming voice replied, “My, what a mouth on this one.” The wolf who had to be Carn appeared next to Mohawk. Their leader was so broad across the chest it would take two of me to hug him. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he was grinning at me in a way that might make a lesser woman’s panties melt.
If he’d had a shower at some point in the last six years, that is.
“The triumphant return of the great leader,” I greeted with a sneer.
“It isn’t often we get a lost wolf out here, little one. What a treat.” His voice was low and boomed with such volume he must have lungs the size of a furnace. I bet he could howl like a motherfucker in his wolf form.
“You’ll be in for a real treat when I get up there.” The words could be mistaken for innuendo if not for the venom in my tone.
“Girl, you are a spirited animal. Do you know what I do with animals who have too much spirit?”
I didn’t answer.
“I break them.”
“I have a proposition for you, Carnie.”
The wolf had probably expected me to quake in my boots at his threat, but my boots weren’t made for quaking. And I remembered what Holden had said on the riverbank. With wolves it all comes down to two things, pride and power. Feral wolves were no different than pack wolves when it came to that. If pride goeth before the fall, I was going to make Carn fall hard.
He regained his composure. “You may speak.”
“You and I are going to fight.”
Carn began to howl with laughter. “I do like a little fight in my women. It isn’t fun when they just lay there.”
“No, you misunderstand the proposal. You and I are going to fight…and if I win, you will give my companion and me a boat and safe passage.”
He started to protest, but then gave me a once-over and laughed again. “And when I win?”
“Well, then, I guess I’m all yours.”
“What if I say no and take you anyway?”
“Then your men will always wonder if it was because you were afraid to be beaten by a girl.” It was the oldest goad of all time aside from “are you chicken?” but I crossed my arms and stared hard at the giant man, knowing it was only a matter of time before he caved.
“What are you doing?” Holden asked in a whisper so low it was as though he hadn’t spoken at all.
“I’m going to kick his ass, and then we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“Secret, he’s huge.”
I shushed him. I knew very well that size was an illusion when it came to measuring strength. Sure, Carn was a mountain, and I was a mouse. But I still believed I’d kick his ass into next week. I had rage on my side, and he underestimated me in every way.
“I don’t want to bruise you before the sex,” Carn suggested, the wolves at his side snickering.
“Think of it as tenderizing.”
Mohawk let out a low whistle.
Carn’s face twisted, exposing his true feelings about my sassy mouth. I was making a fool of him, and he appreciated it about as much as I liked being caged in a dirt hole.
“Bring her. The man stays.” With those words he vanished.
It wasn’t that I was doubting my decisions per se, but when I was standing on one end of a hard-packed dirt circle and looking at Carn from eye level, well, I was less cocky than I’d been inside the pit. He was at least six and a half feet tall and even bigger up close than he’d appeared from within the pit. His body was a mass of hard-toned muscle with arms as big around as my waist.
“You’re a big boy,” I commented.
“In every way.” He grabbed his crotch with one hand in case I hadn’t figured out what his words meant.
“I’ve found that men who need to brag about the size of their cocks are usually the ones with the tiniest packages.” I’d struck my first blow and I didn’t even need to throw a punch.
He growled. “Well, I’ve found that bitches with loud mouths are usually the first to choke on my tiny package.”
Ewww.
I’d removed my jacket and stretched my bare arms. I’d replaced my favorite yellow tank top recently, and it looked like I was about to ruin another one. Blood was such a bitch to