Page 24 of Tamed Wolf

Fuck, I want to kiss her.

Time seems to stand still as she finishes up her set; it takes hours but at the same time only minutes, keeping me suspended in this haze where I’m so enamored that nothing else matters except the way her body contorts and twists, the way her breathing lifts her chest and the way her eyes keep trying to look at us when she doesn’t think she’ll be caught.

I just want to grab her and run away. But obviously, I can’t do that. Right? Right.

I expect the feeling to disappear soon after the private dance is over, and surprisingly my nuts are still unbusted, though they’re definitely throbbing. It feels like an insult though to go jack off to the thought of her; that’s too cheap for a woman like her. So, when she exits the room with a lip bite and an over-the-shoulder air kiss, I throw myself onto the floor, thankful I can’t catch sexually transmitted diseases.

“Fuck,” one of my brothers chokes out.

I have to turn my head to give them focus, because none of my senses are working correctly. “I don’t think she was real. I think she was a fucking angel animatronic or something; can robots feel warm like that?Fuck.”

“Did you propose to her?” Brooks asks, not seeming too upset.

“Fuck yeah. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. That’s the saying, right?”

“We should leave. If she has to come back in here and sees us like this, she’s going to think we’re total losers. She needs to leave with the impression that we’re mysterious and sexy.”

I look at Beckett, who’s also slumped on the floor. “I highly doubt that’s what she’s thinking right now. Highly doubt she’s thinking of us at all, actually. A woman like that?” I whistle, shake my head, and force my body to stand up.

“We need to go thank Camden for helping us to find love,” Blake whispers in a totally deranged voice.

The door clicks open again, behind us this time, and other than the logistics of how Mistress Ryot left in front of us, part of me thinks it’s going to be her, tiptoeing back into the room to tell us how incredible it was to spend a few minutes with us. And also, maybe we should run away together?

Of course, it’s ‘here’s my vagina’ lady, ready to bring us to the party.

“I think she ruined women for me,” I mumble.

“Funny, you’d think that would be our ex-mate’s claim to fame,” Beckett tries to tease, but it falls flat.

“Ew. We tried to make it work with her why?”

“Gotta be honest, I’m actually blanking on her name,” I say, not too worried.

Camden is surprisingly still somewhat sober when we get to his VIP section, topless women serving him and sitting on the laps of some of his friends that we don’t really know, but none of the pretty women hold any interest at all for me.

My eyes roam around the club as we sit and drink and try to make ourselves have fun, hoping to see Mistress Ryot again. Really wish I knew her actual name so I could go buy a notebook and write it a few hundred times in pink gel pen. Throw some hearts in.

“What’s with you?” Camden asks, kicking my foot to get my attention.

My brothers are also studiously avoiding the women, though their eyes linger occasionally. “Just taking in the atmosphere.”

Beckett snorts. “No, you’re not. You’re hoping for our dream woman to come back into view.”

“Oh yeah?” Camden asks, taking an interest. “Tell me more.”

“Like you don’t know her,” Brooks says. “That woman you set us up with for the private dance. Fucking stunning, man.”

“Yeah, you don’t…please don’t talk about her,” Camden says as he slings back a drink. And then another.

“Why, you involved with her?” Beckett asks, getting slightly alpha.

“Me?” Camden asks like it’s the most outrageous thing he’s ever been asked. “Fuckno. New subject. Stat.”

We don’t get to linger on her like the lovesick men we are, and instead are forced to sit and paint on smiles when Camden and his buddies tell all the stupid stories they’ve seemingly been saving up for this very moment.

All I really want to do now that the shiny has rubbed off is pull my phone out and stare at the photos that Aspen has been sending us of Rowan sleeping peacefully, then make my way home to him. It feels wrong to be sitting in a place like this when our son is with others.

“I think it’s time to go, Camden. Thanks a lot for inviting us out. Happy birthday, man.”

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