Heat Race - Tanya Chris Page 0,68
His conciliatory attitude vanished. His fangs descended, and his fingertips itched with burgeoning claws. Saul hadn’t asked Jasper to defend him, but by all the gods, he would.
“Saul only mentioned that his father had been here,” he said through a mouth thick with teeth. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”
The fangs seemed to change Miller’s mind about being directly confrontational because he rocked back on his heels as if to put more distance between them than the width of a counter. “Who said his father was here? What do I know about who his father is?”
“Guy named Otis Guttman. Looks a lot like Saul.” Except seedy and cruel. “Might’ve come to talk to you about my pack.”
“So what if he did?”
“So I’d like to talk to you too, give you my perspective on it.”
Temper, temper, Jasper reminded himself as the wolf inside him screamed to be let out. The wolf thought it could deal with Miller by ripping his heart out, but if the point was to reassure the people who didn’t want to fall under his rule that he had no intention of ruling them, then tearing Miller to pieces would be seriously counter-productive.
“I know there are rumors going around about what we might be up to, but there’s no need for rumors. Let’s talk alpha to alpha.”
Miller’s eyes darted to Saul, then came back to him. “I don’t need an uber-alpha. Might be okay for the likes of him.”
A growl rumbled through Jasper’s chest, and the claws he’d been struggling to hold back popped. “Insult my mate one more time and find out what happens.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Well, stop saying it.” Jasper shook himself. “Here’s what I’m saying: what my mates and I do is none of your business. That means you don’t need to comment on it—not to them and not to anyone else—but just the same, you’re not my business.”
“The mayor said—”
“Listen carefully. Galvetta isn’t my pack, and it never will be. I’m building my pack from the ground up, because it’s mine. I won’t ever make myself boss of this town, not even if it begs me to. Understand?”
Miller’s shoulders shimmied, as if he was caught between accepting and resisting. Miller wanted a fight. Jasper could see it. His dislike for the Treehouse Pack didn’t come from a genuine fear of losing his sovereignty. It was pure ego. For Miller to feel good about himself, Jasper had to be beaten down to his level.
“All right,” Jasper said, acknowledging that he wasn’t going to talk Miller out of his enmity. “If we can’t be friends, then know this: any fight you start, I’ll win.” This time when his claws popped, it was intentional. He stopped short of going full wolf since he didn’t want to shred his clothes, but he gave Miller a good idea of what his full wolf would look like before turning for the door. “Don’t fuck with my mates,” he threw over his shoulder.
“Then keep your mates out of my store,” Miller yelled, but he waited until Jasper had the door open to do it.
Jasper pushed Saul outside, then turned to look at Miller who hadn’t moved away from the counter. He rumbled out a growl and smiled when he saw Miller flinch, then walked into the sunshine after Saul.
“You didn’t tell me he’d been shitty to you.”
Saul shrugged. “Wasn’t important. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jasper ringed his neck. “I like that about you—how big and tough you are even though you’re made out of nothing but sweetness and love. I love you, Saul. Sometimes I think you’re the best part of this pack.”
Saul beamed at him. “Elias sort of said that yesterday.”
“If Elias says it, it must be true. Come on, let me drop you at home before I head out to the farm. Shame there isn’t time to fuck around.” He always got horny when his wolf came out. The wolf only knew about fighting and fucking, and since they hadn’t done any fighting, it wanted to fuck.
“Elias had an idea yesterday about why the bond isn’t growing like it ought to. He thinks we’re not getting enough, uh, fluid exchange.”
Elias’s insight rang immediately true. Jasper’s soul-deep hatred for those condoms wasn’t something he’d ever experienced with prior sexual partners. Maybe they weren’t even necessary. But he really hoped they were.
JACK HENRY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Up to this point in Jack Henry’s life, a physical examination had meant getting weighed and measured, maybe a tap on the knee