Page 177 of Rough and Rugged

I feel his body start to tremble, and I gasp, glancing around while I try desperately to get him back into the shadows.

“DRAKE!” I call out to my older brother, who’s lost his mind.

I manage to pin him to the side of the building and hold him while he pants to calm down.

“I’m ok,” he lies to both of us.

“You are anything but. What the fuck has gotten into you? I’m the hot head in this family.” That gets a snort from him, and he finally stops fighting my hold on him and sags.

“The maid. She, well…” he trails off, running his hands through his hair in aggravation.

“She’s?” I prompt, backing up from him.

He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, rolling his eyes when I frown at him.

“I thought you quit?” He growls again, and I lift my hands in defeat.

“The maid is the same woman from last night.” Ah, now he’s starting to make sense.

“So I stopped you from calling the police.” He pulls a drag into his lungs and shakes his head at me.

“No, you stopped me from fucking her stupid against that wall.” He points his cigarette to prove his point.

“I’m lost,” he chuckles, nodding.

“So am I. Her scent drives me mad. You mentioning that she might be my mate made it ten times worse.” He paces.

“Well, sounds like I might be right then. Do you feel the need to chase her?” He groans, and I don’t bother pushing him for a clearer answer.

Father told us when we were merely cubs that the instinct to mate would take us over when we found ours. No force in nature would dare interfere in our joining. And here I am, standing between him and his possible mate.

“Wow, I’m so fucking sorry. Go!” I push at his back, but he doesn’t move a muscle.

“I can’t.” I frown at his words.

“Can’t what? Celebrate? Cause honestly, today was fucking fantastic, and I thought we’d have a drink together.” Braxton comes into view, holding a bottle and three glasses.

“Oh, we need a drink, alright, but it’s for a completely different reason.” I take the bottle and a glass from him.

“Alright, what did I miss?” He sniffs the air and smiles.

“So you met her.” I stop pouring Drake’s drink to stare at Braxton.

“Met who?” Drake grabs Braxton by the collar and shakes him.

“EASY!” I pull them apart and hand them a drink each.

“Tasha, I can smell her. Which one of you drove her away?” Braxton takes a sip of the whiskey and looks at us.

I point at Drake while I gather my own thoughts. The smell around me is intriguing, to say the least. It reminds me of the maid I sent to breakfast this morning. I take a deeper inhale and moan.

“Shit,” I say, rubbing my neck.

“What’s going on?” Braxton asks us with confusion on his face.

“It appears, baby brother, that we are all craving the same woman.” I join Drake pacing, trying to figure out what to do now.

We’ve never been good at sharing.

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