The Reindeer's Halloween Claim
Page 2
Jax had felt the mating pull too, but well, as a male who was tongue-tied around women, the frenzy didn’t do anything to make him less awkward. As usual, he was left to his own devices where his horniness was concerned. Though repeated sightings of their dad’s butt – and the knowledge that their dad had their mom’s name tattooed on said butt – was more than a little off-putting.
The other males didn’t notice his discomfort thankfully. Dozer usually was oblivious, and Alden always did prefer books to people. Neither male was good at reading people.
“Why would they want to make a rule like that?” asked Dozer slowly, his colossal brow furrowing in confusion.
Alden shrugged and sighed. “It was probably a rule made by alphas back when arranged matings were so popular. The intended groom probably gave her a ring or a necklace or something, and then six months later she had no choice but to mate. It was probably a way to make sure the female couldn’t back out of the mating – or she’d face banishment or death.”
Dozer scratched his chin. “Couldn’t she just give the jewelry back?”
“Sure, if she had any idea what the rules were. Look at these books!” Alden jabbed a finger at them. “They’re so wordy and intricate that hardly anyone knows about any of the stuff in here. I don’t know if I will ever memorize all this stuff.”
Dozer gave him an encouraging thump to the arm, which while it hurt, he did appreciate.
Jax skimmed through his volume, trying to ignore his surroundings. Half the book seemed to be devices on how to trick females into mating pacts. Maybe he should try one. He peered over the top of his book and caught the eye of a pretty blonde. He blushed. She sneered. He sighed. It seemed like it may be the only way he would find a female who would want him.
Chapter Three
Heather smiled at Harlan as he systematically tried to feel up his wife, and his wife systematically tried to slap every inch of him.
“So glad you could join our girls’ night,” said Heather with a teasing amount of ungraciousness. “Temp’s face matches the lobsters.”
“Yes,” huffed Temp, lobster red in the face from Harlan’s attempts at caressing her, and the effort it took to stop the caresses. “But we’re in public, dial it back.”
Harlan chuckled and settled for merely draping his arm around the back of Temp’s chair, and glaring at any male who even thought to look in her direction. Heather bit her lip in mirth. Temp may be flustered, but she loved every second of it. She was pleased for her; if anyone deserved to be worshipped, it was Temp. Heather didn’t imagine she personally had ever done anything deserving of such attention.
“Did you ladies have fun shopping?” he asked, sipping at a martini. He really did have a James Bond air to him.
Heather smiled. “We did. We got costumes for Halloween, and then we got some new underwear. The lacy stuff Temp got will blow your hooves off.”
Harlan gave his wife an interested, hungry look. “Really?” he purred as his eyes darkened.
Heather could sense the beast close to the surface. Now that she knew he had an animal inside him, it seemed almost palpable. As Harlan and Temp whispered something that had Temp flushing with delight, Heather glanced around the restaurant, wondering if there were any other shifters there. She did admit that she wondered about people now, knowing that there was a possibility of ‘otherness’ within them.
Her eyes skated over men in business suits and women in fashionable dresses, thinking nothing was out of the ordinary with any of them until she came to a familiar face.
“Holy crap!”
“What is it?” asked Temp immediately, whipping her lips away from Harlan who was trying to claim them.
“It’s my ex,” said Heather in surprise.
“You’ll have to narrow it down,” taunted Harlan playfully, before affecting a wounded look when Temp elbowed him.
“It’s Carson,” said Heather, looking the male up and down. Time had not diminished his fine physique. “I dated him for a couple of months just over a year ago.”
“Oh yes, I remember him,” agreed Temp. “He was… I don’t know; I could never decide whether I liked him or not. He always seemed really aloof one moment and then a totally possessive douche the next.”
Harlan raised an eyebrow and Temp patted his chest and added, “And not in the cute way that you’re totally possessive.” He grinned.
True, out in public he practically ignored her, but then if another male did anything innocuous as helping her take her coat off, he went ballistically possessive. But he was definitely hot, hot, hot in the bedroom. Carson was by far the most phenomenal lover she ever had. He was like a wild animal in the bedroom, and Heather had spent the two months enjoyably exhausted. Eventually, they stopped going out to dinner and just stayed in at Heather’s apartment, which suited her just fine. He certainly wasn’t what her mother would call ‘marriage material’ – ugh - but he had been an excellent fling, and her sex ached a little at just the memory of the pleasure he had given her.
“He did run a little hot and cold,” admitted Heather as she rubbed a finger over her lips.
“Remind me, why did you stop seeing him?”
“He went home to California. He was only here for a couple of months on business.”
She had actually been disappointed when they had to say goodbye. No, that’s not true, her pussy had been disappointed when they had to say goodbye. The rest of her could take him or leave him.
“Which guy?” Harlan asked.
“The one in the cowboy boots,” murmured Temp.
He snorted and then scanned the crowd before he stilled and huffed like the reindeer he was. “Cougar.”
Temp and Heather stared at him. “What?” they said in unison.
“That male’s a cougar shifter,” he grunted, displeasure on his face. Followed by something that sounded like ‘trucking predator’ – although Heather wasn’t sure she heard the word ‘trucking’ correctly.
Temp and Heather gaped at one another in surprise and probably would have carried on doing it if Harlan hadn’t let out a hoot and stood up. They barely registered this before a voice exclaimed, “Heather!” and they whipped their heads round to find Carson approaching them.
“You’re a cougar!” blurted Heather.
*
Jax jogged back to his car after helping Alden to his house. He really shouldn’t lug that many books around – he may be a shifter, but that many books could still give him a hernia.
In spite of his personality – or possibly because of it – Dex had actually managed to charm a female at the club into taking her home. After he left, the rest of them just went onto a burger bar, and after Dozer was called away to work, Jax and Alden called it a night. He had just dropped Alden off and was heading home.
All the reindeer herd lived in the same area – his family’s house was only a four-minute drive away. But they weren’t the only shifters in that area. It was a shifter friendly neighborhood, which was guaranteed by the realtors who exclusively worked the area and were indeed all shifters.
He was almost back at his car when he heard a cab pull up two doors down, and this was swiftly followed by loud, female laughter. His inner beast chuffed as two of his female herd mates – Chloe and Zoe - stumbled out of a cab. They were obviously tipsy and very merry. They were his age, and he had gone to school with both of them. As he recalled, Dex had actually dated one of them; he just wasn’t sure which one - they were pretty interchangeable.
As they waved away the cab, they started singing a saucy song that involved bananas, and cucumbers and… Jax stopped listening – it was too much for his delicate ears.
One of them paused and hiccupped when she spotted him. Jax pretended that he hadn’t been watching and started getting into his car.
“Hey, isn’t that King Douche Ball?”
He presumed she meant Dex – he wasn’t sure they cared enough about him even to insult him, never mind give him a crappy nickname. Though Dex prob
ably deserved it.
“Nah,” hissed the other girl, in what she probably thought was a whisper. “That’s the dumb brother.”
Clearly, he was wrong about the insult thing. They both burst into laughter and continued on with their song. He should say something to them. He should call them on their rudeness at least. Jax sighed and started to drive away. Why bother? They were drunk and unlikely to remember anyway, and he wasn’t exactly at his best when using his words to argue. He’d probably just embarrass himself. Sigh.
Chapter Four
Heather traced the rim of her martini glass and smiled at Carson. “I can’t believe I had no idea.”
He grinned in a feral way – how could she have missed the fact that he turned into a predator!
“It’s not exactly something we advertise,” he damn near purred, “for the safety and security of our pride.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
That was something that had been drilled into her by the herd alpha, Branch and the chief protector of the herd, Mal. They had given her a half hour lecture, trying to scare her into keeping it secret. She had listened seriously until they finally stopped talking and she asked them whether they actually had Rudolph-red noses. Hey, she took their safety very seriously – and she wouldn’t blab the secret willy-nilly. But Carson obviously knew that Harlan was a shifter, so why hide the fact that she knew about shifters too now?
After her pronouncement, Harlan had groaned while Carson threw his head back in laughter. Then she introduced everyone. Temp was her usual charming self, but Harlan hadn’t exactly been pleased to meet Carson. Temp explained to her that non-predator shifters didn’t exactly get along with predator shifters. Something about the predators trying to eat them in their shifted form. Carson, for his part, actually looked impressed on meeting Harlan, and knew who he was by name. There was none of the stiffness in Carson’s handshake that there was in Harlan’s, but then, Carson was the predator.
Carson had asked her if she wanted to get a drink after dinner, and she said yes. Harlan and Temp hadn’t been thrilled about leaving her, but Heather waved away their concerns. She was just having a drink with an old friend – there was nothing to worry about. Although, she did laughingly suggest that Temp take a picture of him and send it to the cops if they don’t hear from her in three days - Temp was not amused by that.
“So what brings you to town?” she asked, trying to picture what he looked like as an animal. As a man, he was tall, buff and handsome with shiny, blonde hair. He was probably pretty gorgeous as a cougar too.
“Business again. My pride owns a hotel here.”
Heather’s brow dipped. “You do?”
That was news to her, and she realized that she had never actually found out what he did when they were together before. Well, she wasn’t with him for his conversation skills, and he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming – she guessed because of his shifter nature.
“Umm, yes.” Irritation seemed to cross his features before he quickly stifled it. “But, I’m more interested in hearing about you. How long have you known about shifters?”
“Oh,” she snickered, “since my best friend mated a reindeer, got drunk and then made him shift in front of me.”
He nodded and gave her a thoughtful look. “Must have been a surprise.”
“No kidding! I think it’s the only time I’ve ever been quiet for longer than a half an hour. Except when I sleep. Actually no, I talk in my sleep.”
Temp used to wear earplugs in college.
“I remember,” he crooned, waggling his eyebrows.
Heather smiled and took a sip of her drink. “But after I got over my shock, I realized how utterly awesome it is, and I kind of love being friends with a bunch of people who can turn into massive reindeer at will.”
“Even more awesome to turn into a cougar.” His eyes flashed, and he let out a small roar.
“I wouldn’t let Harlan hear you say that,” she giggled.
“No,” he murmured in agreement, his expression hardening for a second. “You know him well, then?”
“Well, he’s married to Temp.”
“Ah yes, ah, Temp…”
It was clear when Heather introduced Carson to Harlan, that Carson couldn’t remember who Temp was at all. To be fair they had only met a couple of times, and Temp didn’t mind in the least, though Harlan would take any excuse he could to be annoyed with the other male.
“So, since Temp and I are inseparable and heading for a couples burial plot, I know him pretty well. I know his family quite well, too.”
Harlan’s mother and sister helped out at the charity center, plus his sister – Ariel – sometimes joined Heather and Temp for one of their girls’ nights.
“How long have they been mated?”
“Umm, six or seven months.”
“Which?” he demanded his eyes flashing.
Heather did an inner eye roll. Jeez, had he always been this annoying? Did the length of time really matter? Well, it probably mattered to Temp and Harlan, but to this guy?
“Well, they mated in March…” She started counting months on her fingers.
“And when did she tell you about his true nature?”
“Ah, the end of March I guess, and…”
“So you’ve known for more than six months. What about his herd? You are familiar with them?”
Heather shrugged. “I’ve met most of them but not all.” She had been introduced to a lot of them at Tank’s wedding, although unfortunately some were out of town and couldn’t make it back in time for the impromptu shindig. To be fair, it was a pretty big herd. “Harlan says I’m an honorary member.”
Carson’s eyes widened. “No kidding?”
“Yeah, I get an automatic invite to all the parties, and I can go to the herd runs if I want.” She didn’t because, well, she took offense at anything that involved the word ‘run.’ Mostly, she, Temp, Marion – Tank’s mate, Mira – Branch’s mate and Temp’s sister, and any other human members of the herd who wanted to join them spent the night together, watching movies and eating pizza. Essentially, she was kind of a member of the herd, except she didn’t get any say in the herd business or any of the earnings.
He chewed on his cheek and Heather sipped at her drink, watching him through hooded eyes. Irritating questions aside, she wondered whether she should invite him back to her apartment, to maybe pick up where they left off. She couldn’t deny she wouldn’t mind a repeat of their bedroom antics. Carson was somewhat self-centered – not that she was about to claim she wasn’t - and arrogant, but he sure made up for that between the sheets. He wasn’t a guy she could ever see herself settling down with – that kind of guy would have to be pretty darn special – but spending the night with him was very appealing.
“Everything okay?” she asked after he was quiet for an inordinate amount of time. Which was actually only thirty seconds.
Carson turned to her and grinned – all teeth and naughtiness. He leaned an arm on the bar, cupping his head in his hand, while he brought his spare hand up to her hair and idly twisted a few strands around his fingers. Maybe spending the night appealed to him too.
“Hey, do you remember when I was last here?”
“Mmm hmmm.” She shuffled a little closer to him.
“Am I right in thinking that I left my belt in your apartment?”
Heather pursed her lips slightly at the question. His voice didn’t lose the intimate, cooing quality, yet the words were kind of strange. Who cared about a freaking belt?
“Ummm, I think so.”
It was a year ago, she vaguely recalled him leaving something, but she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.
He leaned closer to her, bringing his lips beside her ear. “Do you think I can get it back?”
*
Jax, quiet as a mouse, crept into his house. He used the back door, through the kitchen. In darkness, he maneuvered his way to the fridge to search for leftover pie – there was always leftover pie i
n their house, given that his mom made about four a day. They always got eaten, too.
The sounds of his brothers and their mates enjoying some carnal delight was rampant – he wasn’t sure why he was creeping, really, except… Jax almost yelped, clutching the plate of lemon meringue pie to his chest as the light flickered on.
“Honey,” trilled his mom, “I thought I heard you.”
Jax muttered a hello to his mother, who was sporting a robe, slippers, a pair of pink, flushed cheeks and probably nothing else. She had a severe case of bed head and Jax tried not to think about how she got it. Lord how he wished for the end of rutting season. His own libido would be easier to deal with and the sounds of familial lovemaking wouldn’t be quite so often or barf-inducingly loud.
“Let me make you something,” she said, starting to potter around the kitchen.
“I’m good with pie, Mom,” he murmured.
She cast a critical eye over him. “You did eat while you were out, right? I don’t like to think of you going without meals. You’ll be away to a shadow in no time!”
Jax almost choked. It would take months, or possibly years, before he looked anything other than beefy. All reindeer bulls tended to be big, but the males in his family tended to the gargantuan. His oldest brother’s mate was a deer shifter, smaller and slighter than reindeer cows, and she had expressed a fear of being smothered in her sleep by his brother on more than one occasion. He put the family size down to his great-grandma – she had been a phenomenal cook and a perpetual feeder. She passed her recipes down to her daughter, and then she did to her daughters - his mom and aunt. His aunt was possibly even a better cook than his mom, which might account for the size of Tank.
“I had a burger while I was out,” he admitted.
Her brow furrowed in worry, and then he admitted that it was actually four burgers, six portions of fries and five apple pies and she was mildly appeased. Not to mention the five power bars he wolfed while driving to the club.
“Where are your brothers?” she asked as she took the pie and slipped it onto a plate for him.