Chapter 8 #3
My family would undoubtedly say my wolf had been awakened since possessiveness was the first order of business for any hungry shifter. Except for one little problem. I wasn’t exceptionally hungry. Well, maybe a little bit, but I had more self-control in my pinky than most did in their whole bodies.
Two things occurred at the same time that challenged all that restraint, the first being she moved around to the other side of the table.
Closer to the two jerks. The second being at least one was acting as if they were going to forgo their game completely, especially when she bent over, her butt perfectly positioned only a few inches away from the ravenous beast.
I’d be thankful later Clementine was too busy angling her shot, not paying a bit of attention to me. That allowed me to successfully bare my canines while offering the dudes a single flash of my wolf’s eyes while she wasn’t looking.
One backed away immediately, appearing frightened I’d eat him whole. The other wasn’t nearly as accommodating, narrowing his eyes and puffing his chest up. He took a step. I took a step.
She took the shot.
Two more steps taken and all that I’d said earlier in glowing praise was about to be tested in the worst way possible.
“Go on, wolf man. Or should I call you a prissy hockey boy? Let’s see what you can do.” The guy kept his voice down, but was clearly angling for my reaction.
I’d been exposed to rough guys attempting to put me in my place, asserting their manhood because they were threatened. It had gotten worse during the past few years, enough so I was at the point of being fed up.
“Damn it. I thought I was on a winning streak,” she grumbled and given her keen sense of observation, three seconds later she realized my attention was placed somewhere else.
The guy shot her a look, a leering smile meant to taunt me into doing something I’d regret.
I barely caught her expression, far too locked into playing the big he-man to notice until she walked directly in front of me. Pool cue in her hand. “I’m winning, Roy. Time for a showdown.”
In rarely being the one to pick a fight, I was surprised at my reaction. Maybe so was the jerk confronting me. Or perhaps the fact I’d bulked up by thirty pounds in the last few months was partially responsible for the questioning look he suddenly wore.
He darted his eyes toward Clementine and at this point, she was resting both hands on the table, shifting her gaze from one to the other. It was his call to make and I only hoped he made the right one.
Now was my chance to put him in his place. The debate was on. Punch him in the face or put him in his place.
“Woof,” I growled with enough deep husky tones the guy flinched.
With a huff, he turned away, immediately grabbing his beer.
Damn good thing or I’d beat his ass.
Laughing at myself was easy, maybe much too much. I turned toward her, eyeing the table while allowing the near interaction with the gruff dude to wash off my back.
Some would say easier said than done, but not this time. Why? I’d have the joy of sharing some news with her.
“I bet I’m going to win this game,” she mused as I walked closer. At some point I’d learn to swagger with the best of them. She caught the forward movement, planting her hands on her hips. “Let me guess. You can’t stand the thought of a woman winning. Right?”
“Seeing a beautiful woman winning fair and square in a game doesn’t bother me in the least.”
“So your manhood isn’t in question.”
I stopped short of my destination, holding my arms out as I glanced down to my boots. “Does it look like my manhood is in question?”
I’d never seen another girl blush the way she was doing, but she managed to hold her look of contempt even when sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.
“Why are you smug? I’m winning fair and square.”
Nodding, I leaned back, glancing at the balls that had dropped into the holder below. One by one, I pulled them onto the table. “Well, you are successfully dropping balls into the pockets, and I feel the need to thank you.”
“For closing in on winning a game?”
I backed up until I’d flanked her side, leaning in enough to crowd her space while folding my arms. “Do you see those five balls over there?”
“I sure do. Bright and colorful.”
“Yep. They are. Red. Orange. Blue. Do you notice anything different about three of them?”
Her body stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you popped in the red and orange ball immediately. Excellent job on your first shot.”
“Yes,” she managed, taking a step forward. “And I knocked the other three in after that.”
“You did. Solids. Stripes?”
She turned her head just enough, her eyelashes skimming across her cheeks as the information slowly dripped into her mind. “Oh, my God.”
“I assure you it wasn’t divine intervention, but I’ll take the win however I can get it. Maybe you’d like to go ahead and concede the win to me. I don’t mind giving credit where credit is due. I couldn’t do it without you.”
Steam rolled from her ears, the wistful gaze from before turning into full blown competitive venom in her eyes. “Take your best shot, Roy. Time to get it on.”