Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy (Sweet Monster Treats)

16. Ostor

Chapter 16

Ostor

W e all went to the swim-up bar, me holding the bottle of tequila I'd won. I'd share it with my brothers when I returned home and laugh at the faces they'd make when they tasted it.

A few of the others stabbed tiny glasses of tequila and . . . No, not stabbed, shot the drink. I'd get all this straight in my mind eventually.

“Good job.” Jacob slapped my shoulder.

“Thanks.” I'd feel better about his congratulations if his eyes shone with happiness too, but they remained sharp, and he kept looking from me to Macy, who wiggled through the water over to my side. Then his protective gaze fell on Rosey. Did he now see himself in the same role as her father, a person needing to watch out for the woman I was falling in love with? They didn’t need to worry. Rosey could take care of herself.

“That was amazing, Ostor,” Macy said, looking up at me much like a sister would. I liked her already. What she presented to the world was who she was, and that was a rare thing among both humans and orcs.

Jacob tugged her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Stop admiring other guys, babe.”

She giggled and tilted her head back for a kiss, which he gave her. “Jealous? No need to be. I only love you.” She slipped from his grasp and hopped over to stand by Rosey on my other side. “Well, Rosey too, who is equally amazing.” Leaning against her sister’s shoulder, she grinned. “I'm so glad you came. Glad you brought Ostor. He's wonderful, sis. Definitely a keeper.”

Jacob's smile grew, but there was no mistaking the irritation on his face. It was sad that he didn't feel confident about the woman he'd soon marry.

But then, I wasn't confident about Rosey.

Although, she’d kissed me as if she liked me. There was no mistaking her arousal in bed this morning.

She hadn’t denied she was mine—unless that was part of our pretend relationship. She may have thought I was faking it when I expressed the words to whoever might be listening.

I hoped we figured this out soon. I leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“So, what have you been up to?” Jacob asked Rosey, sidling close enough to wedge himself between us.

“This and that,” she said.

“No, like what?” He took her hand and held it. Most would see it as a friendly gesture.

I saw the proprietary gleam in his eyes. He did feel as if he had a say in her future.

This male had rejected her. Hurt her. Bound himself to her sister, who he’d soon marry. He had no right to inject himself into Rosey’s life any longer.

“Nothing new,” she said brightly, extracting her hand from his and stepping around to come up on my other side.

What would the group think if I growled at him to back away?

An orc would do it if a male approached and touched his mate in such a way, but these were humans with much different customs—ones I’d only started to learn.

Jacob’s laugh cut through the hum of voices around us. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that invited you in. No, it held a sharp edge, like he was issuing a challenge.

“You know what I’d like to do?” Jacob leaned toward me, a smirk twisting the corner of his mouth. “How about a little arm-wrestling contest? Ever tried that before, Ostor? It’s a manly tradition.”

Arm wrestling? The skin around my eyes tightened as I tried to piece together what that might mean. Was it some kind of combat? If so, I hadn’t brought my sword.

This human tradition could be done prior to a mating or to prove one’s worth among other males.

“I don’t understand.” I kept my tone measured. “What is arm wrestling?”

Jacob’s brow climbed so high, it nearly disappeared into his damp hairline. “It’s just for fun.” The glint in his eyes didn’t appear playful. “You put your elbow on a flat surface, grip hands, and see who can pin the other guy’s arm to the counter first. You know, to prove who’s stronger.”

Macy spun her eyes. “Jacob,” she groaned, dragging out the syllables. “Do you really have to turn everything into a competition? We’re here to relax with our friends before the wedding, not throw testosterone around like confetti.”

Jacob shrugged but didn’t take his eyes off me. His smirk widened. “We’re just having fun, babe.”

“Orcs don’t need to prove themselves with games.” I coiled my arm around Rosey's shoulders. “We prove ourselves in battle.” I angled toward Rosey and lowered my voice. “Why would we wrestle with our arms? Is this meant to shame the loser?”

Annoyance flickered in her blue eyes. She stabbed a look at Jacob before returning her attention to me. “It’s a silly game.” Her lips quirked into a half-smile, though the tension around her mouth showed her frustration. “You don’t have to do anything like this if you don’t want to. You’re the best guy here.”

Her words stunned me. I wanted to lift her, toss her over my shoulder, and take her to our room where I could show her more things my tongue could do to her body.

But if I’d learned nothing else growing up with nine brothers, it was to never leave a challenge unanswered.

Laughter tumbled around us from our friends. It wasn’t cruel. They looked at me as if I fit in with them already. But they tittered like Jacob and I were putting on a show for their amusement. One of the guys—Vincent, I remembered—pointed at Jacob. “Man, you got this. Ostor’s big, but you rule, dude.”

His slap of encouragement on Jacob’s back made my jaw tighten. Jacob’s expression turned smug, as if he couldn't imagine losing. Heat rolled in my belly. How many times had he underestimated Rosey before dismissing her? I wouldn’t let him do the same with me, not even once.

Facing him fully, hands loose by my side, I tilted my chin. “Alright.” My words came out loud enough for the group to hear. “I’ll give it a chance. Show me how this works.”

Cheers and whistles rippled around us.

We took seats facing each other on the corner of the bar. Jacob rolled his shoulders, extending his hand to me as if this was some grand arena battle to the death. His hand was small compared to mine, something I struggled not to mention as I gripped it and tried not to crush the bones outright.

“And here we have it, folks,” one of Macy’s bridesmaids called out, bobbing over to stand at the corner of the bar, between us. “The biggest arm-wrestling match of the century. In my left corner, we have Ostor, an orc.'

Someone chuckled.

“And on my right?” she said. “Jacob, a,” her laughter burst out, “a human who's about to get his ass kicked. Nothing personal, but my money's on the bigger guy.”

“Jeez,” Jacob said. “Thanks.”

“Frannie,” Macy said with a laugh. “Way to support my awesome fiancé.”

“ You're marrying him, not me.” Frannie leaned over and kissed Jacob's cheek. “Good luck, dude .”

Jacob locked his elbow firmly on the bar. “Ready when you are, Ostor.”

Rosey came over to stand partway behind me, her hand resting on my back as she leaned close. “You've got this, babe,” she purred by my ear.

Pride roared through me, her words giving me the strength of ten thousand orcs.

Frannie counted down. “Three, two, one . . . Go!”

Jacob’s elbow pressed hard against the polished surface as he pushed his palm against mine, his face contorting with strain.

I held my hand in the upright position, wondering when this was going to get started.

Beads of sweat gathered on Jacob's brow, and his jaw tightened as he put every bit of his energy into driving my arm backward to slam it on the counter.

It took a solid effort not to smile. His strength was admirable for a human, but it wasn’t even close to testing my limits.

He growled low under his breath, the tendons in his neck standing out sharply.

With barely a flick of my wrist, I pushed his hand down against the bar, impacting it with a decisive thud. The group erupted into cheers while Jacob sat frozen, his hand still locked in mine. With a hiss, he wrenched away from my grip, his face going red and splotchy. “Two out of three.”

Macy pressed her fingers to her temples. “Seriously, Jacob? Let it go.”

But he plowed on, his voice and color rising. “Or maybe something else then. Push-ups? A race around the pool. Hell, we could—”

I lifted my palm, silencing him. “Forget it.” I met his gaze. “You . . . nearly had a win there.” Not really. “Call it an even match if you want.”

“Two out of three,” Jacob muttered. “That's only fair.”

“I’m not here to play games with you. I’m here to have fun with Rosey.” Turning, I scooped her up. My hands curved gently under the warmth of her thighs as I settled her on top of the bar, easing her back until she laid on the cool surface. Her eyes widened, half-shocked but lit with humor and—most importantly—trust.

A few snorts echoed around us, but as I said, I was here for her only.

With a flick of my hand, the owner of this fine bar brought over a glass of tequila. I held it over her abdomen to the hoots of the crowd.

Her skin quivered as I poured a small stream of the liquid along her belly. It looped before pooling above her navel. By the fates, she shimmered like a goddess in the moonlight. The warmth of her, the scent of her. Everything about Rosey pulled me in completely.

Laughter bubbled up from her throat as she arched her spine against the tickling sensation. “Ostor, what are you doing?” Her voice rasped out softer than her laughter, almost breathless.

“Winning where it matters,” I said simply, my lips curling up before I lowered my mouth to her.

Her sharp inhale sent an echo through my chest. The moment my tongue flicked over her skin, tasting the light burn of the tequila mixed with her sweetness, a ragged groan tore through me. From her navel and higher, I traced every line and shift of her belly.

She gasped and squirmed beneath me. The soft peal of her giggle mixed with something warmer, something more open than anything I’d ever imagined.

Roars of approval filled the area, but I barely heard them. What mattered most was this woman. Always her.

Lifting my head, I grinned with satisfaction. Her bright eyes found mine, hers filled with warmth, teasing, and something deeper I couldn’t name. Something I needed to believe she felt as intensely as I did.

Jacob had fallen silent, too silent, but I'd just shown him up again, this time by proving I could treat my mate as she deserved.

“Let’s see him top that,” Macy said loud enough for only me, and probably Jacob, to hear.

I might’ve come here unsure of everything, fumbling with the weight of what could and couldn’t be. But as Rosey rose to sit on the side of the bar, her legs going around my body, her hands warm on my shoulders, I knew one thing for sure.

I didn’t have to prove myself to Jacob or anyone else.

As long as Rosey looked at me as she did right now, I would always be enough.