Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Works for me. If we’re really going to do this, we need ground rules, though.”
He felt his forehead crease. “Ground rules?”
“No permanent marks. No butt stuff. No sleeping in my bed overnight.”
In other words, she didn’t want to encourage any possessiveness or cross the casual line. “You like boundaries, don’t you, Bailey?
“Yup.” She arched a You got a problem with that? brow.
“Whatever.” He ate up the small space between them with one step. “Now, I got no clue why you righted your clothes but take them off. I’m fucking you again before you leave, and I want you to be stark naked when I do.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sitting in a booth nestled against the window of the pride’s diner the following day, Deke took a bite of his burger, relishing the tastes of grilled meat, soft bun, warm cheese, and fried onions. Not much of a cook, he often ate dinner either here or at the steakhouse. He hadn’t done it as often since touch-hunger rose up, though—crowded places only made him more antsy, especially if unmated females were around.
But his body felt much more settled after last night. And not merely in a sexual sense. It honestly felt as if he hadn’t breathed so easily in weeks.
The diner was always relatively busy in the evenings, so waitresses currently walked back and forth—jotting down orders, pouring coffee, or delivering food and drinks.
Most of the customers were from the pride. Others were human cops and truckers, or shifters from outside the pride. Some people sat at the counter or at tables while others were tucked in booths.
His cat generally liked it here. Liked its atmosphere, its metro décor, and having pride mates close by.
But right then, the feline was in a black mood after spending part of the day dealing with a bunch of the pride’s juveniles—two of whom actually aspired to be enforcers—who were constantly fighting amongst themselves over fuck-all. His cat had little tolerance for petty matters, especially these days. Disciplining the juveniles hadn’t placated him.
As such, right now, everything around the feline annoyed it. The chatter. The laughter. The meat sizzling. The cutlery clinking. The background music. Even the scents of coffee and spices and bacon grease.
But then, his feline was never really happy these days. Maybe if the cat wasn’t mysteriously battling intimacy, his mood would have improved after Deke so thoroughly fucked Bailey last night. Bending her over his sofa had only been the beginning. He’d taken her on his bed. Against the hallway wall. On the kitchen counter. He’d also licked her to orgasm during their shower, after which she’d brought him to climax with her clever little hand.
His cock stirred in his jeans at the memories. Fuck, she’d felt good. Tasted good.
They might not get along so well in general. But in the bedroom, they were in sync. And the knowledge that he’d soon have her again had simmered in his blood all damn day.
She’d agreed to come to his apartment again tonight. Agreed a little too easily, despite being an awkward minx the majority of the time. He figured it was because she’d rather they didn’t have sex in her apartment.
The mamba had solid boundaries, it would seem.
It suited his cat—the feline needed his space; likely wouldn’t react well to anyone taking up too much of it. At the same time, though, the feline was insulted that she wished to keep him and Deke at a distance.
The cat still wasn’t pleased with him for biting her. Deke still couldn’t find it in him to regret it. Especially when it now meant he could get rid of the touch-hunger.
He took another bite of his burger and then lowered it to the plain white dish. It surprised Deke that she hadn’t railed his ass for marking her. Most females would have. But then, Bailey wasn’t like most. The things that generally pissed people off quite often made her laugh.
Deke lifted his glass of soda just as the bell above the door chimed. A figure in a blue waterproof coat strolled inside, traffic sounds following behind him until the door gently swung closed. He lowered his hood with a little shudder and wiped at the droplets of rain on his face. Sam.
Calling out brief hellos to pride members, the healer walked further inside. His step faltered as he caught sight of Deke, and his default smile strangely wavered. But Sam quickly bolstered his smile and stopped at Deke’s table. “Hey there.”
He gave a short nod. “Sam.”
The healer glanced at his plate and hummed. “I’m hankering for a cheeseburger myself.”
“Solid choice.” Deke took a swig of his soda. “It’s damn good.”
Cocking his head, Sam studied him closely. “You seem better today. Less edgy. My healer-senses aren’t going crazy around you.”
It didn’t take a genius to guess what Sam suspected. “I’m not sleeping with Cassandra,” Deke told him.