Chapter 17 #3
“It does.” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“I wanted to try to get ahead of his rumormongering, but he was trying to take control of the discussion in the bar and”—he shook his head—“my beast got in the way. He knew which buttons to push. At one point, I wanted to explode. Kingsley had to step in to distract him and calm things down. Armendale was trying to make me into the hotheaded mess of my youth. He nearly succeeded.”
I put my hand on his chest. “He has a fragile ego. It’s not built on confidence the way yours is.
That’s why he has to be the loudest in the room.
He was given everything he has, and it doesn’t seem like he’s had to fight to keep it.
His leadership isn’t based on strength and power; he just pretends like it is.
Which would be fine in the gargoyle world, but shifter culture is different, so he postures.
He raises his voice. He talks over people and won’t give Aljoe’s powerful sisters the time of day.
He pokes at you and calls you names. You need to stop giving him the power of your attention.
Ridicule him. Ignore him. That’s the best way to deal with a guy like that.
Assuming he won’t ever challenge, and it doesn’t seem like he will. ”
“No, it doesn’t.” He paused, his eyes delving into mine. “Can I hug you?”
I took a step back in answer. We weren’t done yet. “What was the deal with sending the basajaunak away? And the garhettes? And letting the gargoyles hang around and watch?”
He deflated that much more. He’d stand up to a phoenix, but he wouldn’t take on his disappointed mate.
I teared up for no reason and reached out to him. He pulled me into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up,” he said into my hair. “I was struggling for control. It got to the point where I thought Armendale and his crew were going to attack me. I wouldn’t have survived that, so I told Sue to get everyone away. He passed that on to Tristan—”
“What?” I yanked his head back by his hair. “And you didn’t blast me with emotion, so I’d wake up and come help you?”
He tightened his arms around me, drawing me back in.
“There were witnesses. I don’t think he would’ve taken me with a crew just then, but my head was spinning.
My beast was raging. Kingsley got there just in time, then Aljoe’s sisters, then Aljoe himself.
Sue came back in, and by that point, Armendale started backing down.
I regained my footing. As I said, I think he was trying to show people I was still the wild-tempered Black Sheep Barazza… and he almost did.”
I leaned back into him, and he hugged me close, gratefully. “Please don’t get to that point before you call me, okay? I can help with that. I was married to a fragile ego for twenty years. I’ve learned how to handle it.”
“Okay.”
“You’re still in the doghouse, even after I tell you that I faced off with the Elder at very close range. I hit a bunch of gargoyles with stinging pain to make them do what I needed. And—”
“Wait…” He paused for a long moment. “You did what?”
I grimaced into his chest. “Hit gargoyles with—”
“No, no.” He gently pulled back, looking down into my eyes. “What about the Elder?”
“Ultimately, that was your fault.”
“Explain.” I did, and he stared at me with hard, disbelieving eyes. “Jacinta, you are an idiot. She could’ve killed you!”
“That wasn’t one of her options. I only gave her the options of helping or leaving.”
“Why did you stand so close?”
“To make a point that I wasn’t afraid of her. And in that moment, I wasn’t. Mostly.”
“Your gargoyle,” he said in annoyance, bending to glide his lips up my neck. “Truce?”
“Not even remotely!”
He chuckled. His hands reached low and pressed against my thighs. He slid them up, under the fabric. “Bang it out?”
“Bang, sure, but you’re still in trouble.”
His lips settled over mine as he let me work down his pants. His kiss turned needy as he hopped up onto the desk. His keyboard crashed against the ground, followed by his pencil holder and whatever was inside it.
I climbed on top of him, settling against him and then over him, sitting down hard. His body felt like home. He groaned as I moved, his fingers gripping my hips.
“I love you, Jess,” he said, the words riding a breath. “I need you in my life. You make me better.”
I worked him hard, jerking against him. My body wound up and the stress melted away.
“I love you,” I told him, reaching down to massage where I needed it. The desk scraped against the ground, moving across the floor. Maybe scratching it—I didn’t care.
Harder I went. Faster my fingers worked.
The explosion stole my breath. He shuddered beneath me, saying my name like I was divine.
In the aftermath, not totally comfortable in this position but good enough, I lay down over him.
“If ever there was an example of why you’re needed in this convocation,” he said, “you just proved it today. I couldn’t do this without you.
I have part of what’s needed, and you are the other part.
This place works because we work. Our people are united because we are united. You and me—we bring it all together.”
I felt his heartbeat against my palm. I breathed in his delicious scent. Home.
“You’re still in trouble.” It had to be said.