Chapter 5
JAX
I watch Tippy sashay back to the bar, her tail flicking angrily from the narrow slit at the back of her skirt.
Gods, this is such sweet torture. Every curve of her body is so familiar. I’ve gazed at her so many times these past three years, imagined my hands cupping her small pert breasts, her shapely hips, that tight little ass.
As she hops onto a stool, leans forward and touches Larry’s arm, jealousy spills through my insides like acid.
Gritting my teeth, I head back to the table where Otis and Clem are sitting.
My sister has managed to drag her beloved orc out for a much-needed break.
Otis works too hard. Between being sheriff of the Labyrinth and coordinating our plans to infiltrate Sparkle City, he’s long overdue for a night off.
They don’t need me spoiling their fun. Especially since they asked me to join them.
I refused to go to Digger’s after my last interaction with Tippy, so they agreed to go to Bait and Tackle instead. I certainly didn’t expect to see Tippy here, particularly not with that asshole Larry.
I try to relieve the bitter taste in my mouth with a suck on my vape as I slump down at the table with Clem and Otis.
“What’s up? You look pissed to the max,” Clem says.
“Do I?”
Otis grins and points a thick digit. “There’s the reason. Over at the bar.”
Clem turns, and her green eyes, just like mine, widen.
“Ahhhhhh, I see.” She casts me a sly look from under her lashes.
Both Clem and Otis guessed my feelings for Tippy a while back.
And to rub salt in the wound, Clem has become good friends with Tippy since she arrived in the Labyrinth.
My sister won’t tell me what they talk about, but if I’ve been on the agenda lately, you can guarantee Tippy won’t have been saying nice things.
“Seems like she’s cozying up to Larry Knockballs.” Otis glances at me to gauge my reaction. I shrug, drag on my vape, desperately trying to make sense of my behavior in the darkened passage. It had felt like my wolf was giving me a macho confidence I’ve never had before.
I’d towered over Tippy in an act of dominance, then taken her hand in mine and stroked it as if… as if she was mine. Truth is, it’s what I’ve wanted to do for years, but never dared. And her response was like butter melting on hot toast.
Until she realized what she was doing.
Could it be that my wolf has skills to woo Tippy that I lack?
You bastard, you’re playing games, I telepath.
My wolf just growls.
“You want her too, you’ve just not been letting on,” I mutter.
My wolf remains ominously silent.
I dare to glance over once more, and my heart nose-dives into my boots.
Because that idiot Larry is leading my girl onto the dance floor, holding her tightly by the hand.
The hand I was holding only minutes ago.
The hand I should still be holding.
Fuck that centaur.
TIPPY
When Larry says, “Let’s dance,” I demur with a coy smirk. “Oh no… I don’t dance.’
“Yeah, you do, you used to be an aerobics instructor,” Larry insists.
“That’s not the same thing.”
But the truth is, I do love dancing. All vixen shifters do. And with my witch heritage, I’ve learned a few exotic moves from Aunt Felicia.
“It’s high time I taught you the steps to the wixen mating dance,” she told me a month ago. “You’re nearing the end of your first year of training, after which remaining a virgin is very much your choice.”
“Phhttt,” I huff, trying not to let my mind go straight to Jax. “Why would I bother to learn all this to impress a lousy fox-shifter.”
My aunt’s brows scoot up. “Who said anything about a fox-shifter?”
I blink.
“For you, honey, there will be someone special.” She sandwiches my cheeks between her hands and gives me a kiss on the nose. “Because you are special.” I didn’t try to get any more out of her. Aunt Felicia will never be goaded into telling you more than is necessary.
So I just learned the dance moves. All swaying hips, flirtatious eyes and sensual smiles. It made me feel seductive. Desirable. Sexy.
Since then, I’ve practiced those steps in the privacy of my bedroom, and yes, I’ll admit, I might have imagined I was dancing for a certain someone.
A part of me knows it’s wrong to execute the dance here. I don’t want Larry to take it the wrong way. They’re powerful moves, designed to bring out male desire.
But the wicked wixen in me really wants to show Jax what he’s missing.
I have a strong sense he’s still in the club, watching me from the darkness.
As I follow Larry onto the dance floor, I’m filled with misgivings. Centaurs take up a lot of space, with their equine rear body and huge hooves. And I’m a lot smaller than him. If he steps on me by mistake, I could get badly hurt.
But it’s too late to renege on my decision.
I start by circling my hips, swaying to the music from the band. Monsters’ gazes are trained on me as I let my tail join the rhythm.
Closing my eyes, I increase the sinewy movements, and raise my hands above my head.
There’s a round of applause, then someone shouts, “Woohoo, go, girl!”
The musicians slow the music, increasing the bass to a low, sensual beat, perfect for a mating dance.
Abandoning the last of my inhibitions, I ruffle my hair with my hands, then run them over my face, down my front, skimming my breasts, and feel my nipples harden.
I even undo a button or two of my shirt, and notice how my skin sheens above my breasts.
As the drumbeat pounds harder, I start to dance faster, letting my hips shimmy and my tail swish wildly.
Before long, I’m lost in the rhythm. I imagine—in fact, I know—that Jax is watching me. I feel his gaze like beams of heat, radiating all over my body.
I throw back my head and bite my lip, feeling far more drunk than I should.
Larry is moving closer. I sidestep his big, clumsy hooves.
“Climb on my back,” he hollers over the music.
I shake my head.
Dancing on a centaur’s back is something exhibitionists do for a dare. That’s not me. I’m not a circus entertainer, for goddess’s sake.
You’re behaving like one, a little voice inside me whispers, and for a moment I feel foolish. Larry mistakes my hesitation as consent, and suddenly his big muscular arms lift me into the air and plonk me on his back.
“Dance. Dance. Dance,” the crowd chants.
I stand, feet splayed on Larry’s broad back, uncertain what to do next.
I’m scared. It feels like this is going to end badly, but I’m powerless to stop it.
Larry is laughing as he starts to trot around the dance floor with me on his back. I manage to keep my balance until he speeds up. Shit, he’s almost cantering now. The faces of the monsters on the dance floor are a blur below me.
My foot slips on the sleek, short fur of his back and I find myself sliding down his flank, trying desperately to grab his mane, but it’s too late… I’m falling, tumbling…
My butt lands on the dance floor with a painful thud.
Oh hell, I’m going to get trampled by Larry’s huge hooves. I scrunch my eyes, bracing for impact, but instead there’s a sudden whoosh of cool air. I feel powerful arms lifting me, and in a second, I’m at the side of the dance floor, shielded by a hard, strong body.
I look up into a pair of bright green eyes.
My breath hitches. So has my skirt, I realize, as I’m pinned down with my legs splayed. Jax has landed right on top of me, lean hips sandwiched between my bare thighs, arms braced either side of my head.
“You nearly came to harm then,” he mutters, his mouth so close to mine I can smell the peppermint of his vape.
It should disgust me.
It doesn’t.
I raise my arms as if to push him off, but instead my claws curl around his shoulders and I cling on tighter.
It’s the exact same energy I felt between us in the passage earlier.
Except even more intense.
My pussy thrums. My pulse goes haywire.
Our eyes lock; his lips move closer.
And I realize I’m at far more risk now than I ever was from Larry’s hooves.