Chapter 2 #2
Thrakh chuckled, shaking his head at my friend.
He looked good this morning and smelled even better.
I wasn’t sure what cologne he was wearing, but apples, vanilla, and nutmeg wafted around the space, making my mouth water, momentarily reminding me of my mom’s apple crumble recipe she’d made every fall.
“Speaking of balls, I’m reconsidering hiring another assistant coach after that performance. I think you might be good for the kids when they need a kick in the ass. Real shit-talker, aren’t you?”
Briar’s big blue eyes lit up at the thought. She was perpetually getting side gigs around town, never sticking to one job long. I wasn’t sure she even needed to work with her family connections and money, but she seemed to get bored easily like me and lived for the adventure.
Her expression sobered as she remembered why she was mad.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time while I’m pissed at you, Thrakh.”
“Would it help if you let me do what I came here to do? Then you can proceed with tearing me a new asshole later if you want.”
Briar nodded, walked back toward our table, and grabbed her coffee cup to bus at the trash station by the door.
“You good if I head out, Stevie? I promise he’s a dick, but you have enough witnesses that he won’t be a complete idiot.”
“Sure thing. See you for dinner?” I asked, leaning in for a hug.
“Wouldn’t miss spaghetti night for anything, you know carbs are my love language.” Briar let out a soft growl at the promise of food before leaving the café in a whirlwind.
I was brought back to the present, Thrakh’s looming presence reminding me he was here to do something. The same feeling I’d had last night washed over me, like I wanted to slap him then push him flat on his back so I could ride his big fat orc coc—
“I’m gonna need you to temper those thoughts, peaches.”
I blinked at the interruption. “Peaches? I don’t think so, buddy.” And what thoughts? Ugh he could smell me, couldn’t he? As if the realization was timed, his nostrils flared, and his pupils expanded, black slowly leeching over the hazel eyes he normally bore.
Thrakh crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, staring at me intently as if waiting for me to speak.
I had nothing to say, so we’d be in this little standoff for a while.
It gave me time to cross my own arms and give him a once-over.
He was looking especially fine, of course, wearing his normal Maplewicket Baseball polo.
The black fabric stretched over his chest, showcasing his big frame as if my lady parts needed any reminder about how large this guy was.
He wore dark black jeans and steel-toed work boots.
He was so very…masculine.
Big.
Brawny.
I felt like I was setting feminism back fifty years by ogling him like a piece of meat after he spoke to me the way he did the night before.
“Do you want to finish your coffee while we have a chat?”
I snapped my eyes back up to his face, with those high cheekbones and chiseled jaw.
I sat back down, taking a sip of my still-warm latte while Thrakh situated himself in an oversized wooden chair that fit his larger body perfectly.
I’d noticed when I first visited Maplewicket that there was always a variety of seating options to account for the different sized bodies around town.
As a big girl, it was nice not worrying about armrests potentially bruising my thighs if I had to squeeze into something too small.
“A chat?” I asked.
He nodded before inhaling again. His pupils dilated before his tongue snuck out and licked the short length of his bottom right tusk.
“First, I’d like to apologize for last night.
I wasn’t acting like myself and taking it out on you was really shit behavior.
It’s not an excuse, but I have my own abandonment issues that rear their head sometimes.
Regardless, rest assured that my therapist will be hearing about it because I’m really embarrassed by my behavior. ”
I stared as he let his truth out.
It felt like something out of a fairy tale for grown-ass women—a man built like a tank, looking like he could absolutely wreck my pussy while I begged for more, who also went to therapy to deal with his shit?
I’d call BS but I had a front row seat to this man—orc—laying it all out for me.
I wasn’t sure how to respond so I nodded in agreement, not telling him I forgave him on principle, but also because he’d said first, so what else did he have to say?
Thrakh leaned forward so his large chest was over the table, putting his face closer to mine.
I swore he took another deep breath, smirking like he was reveling in something I wasn’t aware of.
Apple spice swirled around perfectly in the air with my latte still coating my tastebuds.
A sense of calm washed over me as I looked into his eyes still overwhelmed in black by his pupils.
“Second,” he continued. “And the main reason I’m here even though it should be for the apology alone. Will you consider letting me show you I’m not a complete butthole by agreeing to go out with me tonight?”