“Jealousy is a good look on you, babe,” Trevor says huskily as he caresses my arms with both hands before settling them at my waist. Bryan does the same and it’s making my brain melt. Trevor leans down and rubs his stubble against the side of my neck before nipping at it gently. The simple action makes me arch against him and grind my ass into his crotch. Bryan steps even closer, dipping his head to drop little kisses along my jawline before biting my lower lip and bringing his lips to mine in a searing kiss that makes me moan. I am trapped between them in the most delicious of ways, and I get it now. I get why these shifter women might get on with a whole group of men to do things to them. It’s fucking phenomenal. I still don’t know if I want to go all in on this nonsense, but my God they may have ruined me for other men forever.
Bryan pulls back and I let out a whimper of protest that has both him and Trevor laughing.
“You are the most delicious sort of trouble, love,” Trevor whispers in my ear, pulling at my earlobe with his teeth before stepping out from behind me.
I feel wobbly and slightly sex-drunk.
“Just think,” Bryan whispers to me, offering me his hand, “Our night is just beginning.”
I manage a nod and stagger along with them. Oh God, this is how I die. I die from Blue Ovaries. What a way to go.
Inside, the old Keeper’s House is actually cleaner than I expect. The lighting is dark and it has the standard bar accoutrements—darts, a pool table, and grimy looking dance floor—but it also has hidden booths in dark corners and I perk up instantly.
“Should we sit at the bar?” Trevor asks. I shake my head vigorously.
Without checking to see if they are still behind me, I march across the room and settle myself in the furthest, most secluded booth. It’s curved so that more people can fit in it, but I just see the chance for both of my dates to get to sit next to me. I beckon them with my best come-hither look and they grin, prowling towards me with intent.
A large, scruffy looking man steps out from behind the pool table and intercepts them. I want to growl again. I think hanging out with the pod is a bad influence on my manners. I’ve become very growly lately. The man puts his hands on Trevor and I want to hit him. I guess this jealousy thing isn’t just reserved for women. Interesting.
Bryan is at his side in an instant, his hands held loosely at his waist, ready to pop off at a moment's notice. Trevor looks down at the hands still on his chest and says something to the offending man who just throws his head back and laughs before tossing his pool cue on the table and assuming a fighting stance.
I see red. I see actual red, like a haze that momentarily covers my vision.
This asshole is threatening my dates. The dates that owe me a handy under the table or something to take the edge off from the delicious torture they have wrecked me with? The dates that are sweet, sexy, and make me feel like an absolute Queen? Oh hell no. I am NOT in the mood for this bullshit.
Quick as I can, I slide out of the booth and march towards the offending man. Standing directly behind him, I tap him on the shoulder. He turns around and towers over me.
“Leave my date alone.” I say grumpily, glaring up at him without flinching.
He laughs, bending down so his face is level with mine.
“You know, little lady, I don’t think I will. But you just wait right on over there like a good little bitch and I will be along to show you what a real shifter looks like.”
His breath is foul and his laugh is cruel. Waves of animosity roll off him as he looks me up and down, his eyes come to rest on my Matestone. He smells like a wet dog. My skin crawls under his attention and I hate him for it. He turns his back on me, his arm barring Bryan’s attempt to stand next to me.
Nope. Not today, asshole. I dig in my purse and pull out the small canister of mace that I keep in there for emergencies.
“Excuse me?” I say again, tapping his shoulder again, “Maybe I wasn’t clear. I’ll speak slower so you understand. I said, leave my dates alone.”
He snarls and starts to shake and vibrate the way Earl did when he shifted. I take aim with the canister and spray him directly in the face, covering him with ... hairspray
Oh. Oh shit. Wrong canister.
Thinking fast, I grab the pitcher of beer on the table next to me and dump it on his head, being sure to clunk him as hard as I can with the empty glass pitcher before backing away and launching myself into Bryan’s arms.
From the roar in the room, this is both an outrage and massive source of entertainment. Our allies and enemies seem to be divided evenly. Rough hands move us through the crowd, shuffling us towards the door as some stand up and block others from following us.
The bartender winks at me and throws me a to-go bag. “Good on ya, girlie,”
I catch it and we make for the door, snarls and shouts following us. Bryan and Trevor are moving fast, and I am sandwiched between them as they run. Trevor doesn’t look remotely sorry as he shoves people out of the way. The waitress looks on with wide eyes as people tumble out of the Keeper’s House, shouting and brawling.
We dart as fast we can back down the forest path until we see the bikes. Snarling and even a howl, echo behind us. I am quickly
