“You do understand that that nickname no longer applies? I’m an Alpha, not a Beta.”
Jen snorted out loud. “Oh, my sweet fur ball, I wasn’t using the letter 'B' to refer to your former Beta status. Nope.” She grinned to herself. “The B now has a whole different meaning. You’re a smart cookie; you’ll figure it out.”
She sent him an image of her winking at him and blowing him a kiss. “See you later, alligator.”
"Behave." Decebel's voice took on a deep timbre. "And, Jennifer, you will keep your clothes on at this party."
"Why, my dear hubby, whatever do you mean? A well-bred southern girl like me would never participate in such public spectacles." Jen laid on the thick southern accent in her thoughts as she teased him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
"I feel the need to tell you that Decebel has informed me that I must keep my clothes on tonight at the party," Jen told her friends as she examined her nails, looking for all the world like she had no plans to oblige him.
Sally's head snapped to look at Jen. "Actually, that's not a half bad idea."
Jen's jaw dropped. "You want me to strip at your eighteenth birthday party? You do realize that a stripper is typically used at a bachelorette party, not a birthday party? If a stripper is used for a birthday party, it’s really only appropriate for the big two-one. And even then it has to be at the beginning of the party because shortly after it starts everyone is smashed enough to think that they have the body to be a stripper as well. That’s when things get ugly – literally.”
Sally and Jacque stared open-mouthed at Jen. Before they could talk she quickly added, “Oh, and in case you haven’t noticed, I am very much a female. I would think that if you must have a stripper at your party then surely you would want someone, oh, I don’t know, who maybe has the absence of breasts. Unless, of course, you are into man boobs. But I think you would find it hard to find a male stripper who is endowed with said boobs. Especially if you were wanting someone with my -”
Sally interrupted Jen’s commentary with a loud shout. “SHUT IT, JENNIFER!”
Jen’s mouth snapped closed as her eyes widened, staring at Sally in surprise. “Wow, kitty has grown some claws,” she muttered.
"The point is not for me to enjoy the show, Jen,” Sally snapped. "The point is, if you strip, you would keep the attention off me."
"It's your party, you goober smooch. The attention is supposed to be on you."
Jacque snorted out a laugh. "Did you just call her -"
Jen interrupted her redheaded friend. "Yes, a goober smooch. It is completely warranted at this point in the conversation. Also, I don't think you two understand the wrath that I would endure from the Alpha of the Serbian pack for even taking off my shoes and wiggling my cute little toes at everyone."
This time Sally and Jacque laughed together.
"Man, that would totally be a Mastercard moment – priceless."
"Who said your toes were cute?" Sally added.
"Don't be brash, Sally." Jen rolled her eyes. "You just asked me, me of all people to take my clothes off in front of at least 50 people, maybe more."
"Jen, you played strip poker with the enemy. You flashed your not-quite mate in front of the other males of our pack, you -"
Jen snapped her fingers together in front of Sally's mouth with a, "Shh!"
"That was the old Jen. This is the newly improved, mated Jen," she said, the look on her face daring them to contradict her – and, of course they did.
"Do you really want me to get into the fact that I saw you running to your room in the middle of the night just a few days ago…in your underwear?"
Jen clapped her hands together, laughing. "Oh, man, you guys should have seen his face. I thought he was going to kill me."
This time, Sally and Jacque crossed their arms across their chests, giving their own smirks back.
"Okay, okay. So maybe I still have a tendency to run about in less than acceptable attire. Still, this is a major, seriously owe me, like, name your first child after me request."
"That's okay," Sally said enthusiastically. "The chances of me getting pregnant are slim to none, so I can go with that. And of course, if it's a boy, I won't have to name him after you."
Jen clucked her tongue at Sally. "Oh, you naïve, sweet thing. You think a little thing like the sex of your child will get you out of naming him after me if I do this for you?" She shook her head as she took slow steps toward the brown-eyed healer. "Oh, no, gypsy woman. You will name him after me. I don't care if it's JenBo, JenBob, or JenJakifer; I don't care if it's as blatant as YesIAmABoyNamedJennifer. But know this: I will sign my freedom away by simply suggesting that I'm going to undress. I will have to watch my oh-so-possessive mate stare daggers at me while I dance on a table. Then I will have to tuck my furry little tail and run for my life from said possessive mate. For all this, you will owe me."
Jacque let out a low whistle. "Man, Decebel must be tying her up whenever she steps out of line. She's usually jumping at the opportunity to get freaky in a crowd – the bigger, the better."