Chapter 12
JAX
After I’ve removed the towel and dressed, I stride toward the front door of the den. Exerting Herculean self-control, I manage to keep my eyes averted from the backyard.
Because if I catch even a glimpse of Tippy showering, my wolf might well take charge.
Already the damn beast is making me behave badly. Crass remarks fly out of my mouth before I can vet them while I hold her gaze with lascivious confidence—something human Jax would never have been able to pull off.
And I hate to fucking say it, but I—okay, okay— we, love the effect it’s having on Tippy.
She’s flustered, blushing at the merest provocation, her eyes sparkling bright. She’s trying to look pissed at me the whole time, but by the way her ears twitch and her lips quirk upward at the corners, I’m pretty damn sure she’s enjoying it too.
Go on, take a look at her pert tits and her little toosh.
Fuck off, I grunt.
I promised I wouldn’t look, and a promise is a promise. So I take the smoothie out the front, where I sit in the bright late-morning light and stare at some blue bees that are collecting pollen from the flowers in the array of pots.
Even so, my mind can’t stop dwelling on Tippy. How damn cute she looked in her running gear earlier. The way she jogged with her tail swishing from side to side and her gorgeous butt waggling… Is she aware she’s driving me crazy, I wonder.
Because if so, it sure is working.
I’ve been in a state of semi-arousal all morning. My cock is fluffed and my balls ache.
I try to cross one leg over the other, pull on my boot by the buckle the way I do from habit, only to find my knot is too swollen to do so.
No-one gave me any tips on how to manage my freaking knot. And no way was I going to ask Traggar.
I remind myself this is just a professional arrangement for Tippy, a chance for wixens to study the Silver Book of Runes. Her being here is simply a means to an end.
My ebullient mood deflates and I feel the nagging sense of guilt return.
I need to apologize. Clear the air between us.
Yep. Jax Summers, the guy who had a semblance of a conscience, needs to take charge of the situation.
And if that means telling her how I really feel about her, instead of all this macho fucking nonsense my wolf keeps goading me into, then so be it.
“Take a back seat while I sort this,” I mutter to my wolf as I take a gulp of the bright green beverage.
Smacking my lips together, I realize it’s not so bad.
Maybe my taste buds are already changing.
The desire to vape is still there, but not as strong.
Could Tippy’s potions be working already?
Or is it just Tippy that’s doing me good?
I drain the smoothie then stand up and straighten my shoulders, ready to go inside as my human self, imperfect and full of neuroses, but willing to own them.
To grovel, like Otis told me to, and ask Tippy to forgive my recent behavior.
As I turn toward the door, I hear a familiar booming voice shouting my name.
Looking up, I see a huge minotaur bounding at full tilt down the alleyway toward me.
He grinds to a halt on his hind hooves, kicking up dust as he paws the ground, nostrils flared and his nose ring glinting in the light from the lumen in the rock walls.
Arlo gives me his signature grin.
“Great to see you mate.” His bear hug nearly winds me. “I’ve come to take you to the Wolftown gym for a workout.”
“What, now?”
“Sure. Didn’t Traggar tell you I’d be doing weight training with you?”
I shake my head. “If he did, I don’t remember. But this all came about quite quickly, so…”
Arlo looks at my drained glass, globs of green still stuck to the sides. “Gods, she’s got you on her smoothies already, has she?”
I grin. “Yep. This one wasn’t as bad as this morning’s wheatgrass shot, so I guess that’s something to be grateful for.”
“It’ll give you energy,” Arlo says. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“I’d better just tell Tippy,” I say, and take the glass back inside.
She’s finished in the shower, but damn it, now she’s wandering around in a little towel that skims the top of her slender thighs. The scent of her soap makes my nostrils quiver, wild berry and wixen. It’s intoxicating.
“Arlo is taking me for a workout,” I mumble.
“Good,” she says, sticking her nose in the air.
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Fine.”
I open my mouth to say, “We’ll talk when I get back,” but she’s already turned away and stalked through the goat skin curtain into her room, yanking it shut behind her.
Feeling somewhat dejected, I wash out my glass at the sink and walk back outside.
Arlo is already halfway down the street, hooves echoing on the rock floor of the tunnel.
I sigh as I break into a jog to catch up.
I guess my groveling will have to wait.