Chapter thirteen
‘My Wicked Bones’ Nick Nolan
JAZ MONROE
Before walking out of the shop, I stop in front of Cisco, "Listen, guy, I don't know what type of mechanics you've been working with, but I'm a one of a kind. I don't leave shit wherever the hell I want. If I borrow something I put it right back where I got it from. I get why you're picky as hell with who you let in here, but I'm not a slacker." I give him a big smile before walking out. I jog to catch up to Roman who walks like he's got a tight schedule on his hands.
Speaking of tight, damn, those jeans are working his form perfectly. The way his ass flexes with each step he takes makes me want to bite him and see how muscular they are. Alpha definitely didn't miss glute day at the gym.
I slap him on said ass when I come up beside him, earning a growl and glowing eyes, "What can I say? Baby got back. I see it, I want it, I don't touch it, Islapit." I honestly have no clue what I'm saying at the moment, I'm just filled with excitement over that beautiful shop. I even saw a badass gas welder and I cannot wait to get my hands dirty.
"I swear, the shit that comes out of your mouth, little wolf." Roman doesn’t finish his sentence; he just shakes his head and runs a hand through his slicked back hair. God, that jawline of his makes me want to sharpen my swords on it. It's that sharp. I kind of want to bite him too.
Yeah, I apparently have a biting fetish. I blame him for that.
Thinking of his lovely little habit during sex, I reach up to my shoulder and run my fingers over my smooth skin. When I woke up from my coma after Roman repeatedly impaled me on his shaft, I noticed tattoo-like dots on the back of my shoulder. Fated mates. Un-fucking-real. I mean, I’m not complaining, I could have been tied to a troll. Luckily, the Ancients saw Roman and thought of me. Chef’s kiss to them because I seriously would have died if I had gotten stuck with a schmuck.
We walk around the west side of the building. I haven't seen the Cutthroat grounds yet and I'm a little bit in awe of how well maintained the area is. You know, since it occupies a pack of wolves-slash-bikers-slash a lot of different supernaturals. This side of the school has a long ass line of shiny motorcycles that look as though they should be parked outside of a country bar. At the end of the parking lot, there's at least seven lifted trucks and jeeps that are all in pristine condition as well.Damn, how does this MC make its money?
"For a bunch of exiled outlaws, you guys really keep the place and vehicles in beautiful condition."
Roman grunts, throwing his big arm around my neck and pulling me to his side. His fingers brushing against my nipple, instantly turning it into the tip of a nine-millimeter bullet and making my feet stumble like a newborn giraffe.
"For a tiny Alpha killer, you really know how to trip over a blade of grass," He throws my words back at me with a chuckle as he keeps me from falling, "but to answer your amazing observation, Cutthroat runs a lot of businesses ranging from diners to garage shops. Everything is a front for the humans though. Most of our money comes from the…less-than-legal side of the supernatural world.
Each Cutthroat member is leader over a quad which consists of Prospects. He is fully responsible for their training so most of the time, they have them cleaning and maintaining their motorcycles.”
That’s interesting. I was wondering how they kept order with such a large pack of supernaturals.
“Do you have a quad?” he looks down at me for a second, probably wondering if I’m truly interested or just filling up the space with useless questions. He must see honest intrigue on my face because his eyes glitter before he looks back up, continuing our walk, “Not in the same sense. My brothers and I are Alphas therefore every person in my pack, wolf or not, is my responsibility. Their protection and safety are top priority.”
I stay quiet a moment, taking in our surroundings and his words while trying to ignore how the weight of Roman’s arm feels like the heat rays of the moon on a cool night, or how easily my curves fit against his side...Nope, not thinking about that. We turn to the right, entering a large garden-like area where I’m guessing students used to enjoy the sun before classes started. There’re five picnic tables on the grassy area where people sit and chat. The sidewalk we’re traveling on leads all the way across to the east end of the area where there’s another exit point. In the middle there’s another sidewalk that cuts across the one we’re on, leading to the south building that I’ve yet to enter, and the north building where the dining hall and the bedrooms are.
Where the sidewalks intersect, there’s a large fountain with a gorgeously carved wolf sitting elevated on a boulder howling at the sky. There’s no water spouting from it, but that doesn’t detract from the beauty of it. There’s a group of children running around the base playing tag while others play hacky sack a little further back.
Roman and his brothers have truly formed a family here. It makes me see him in a new light. His gruff and sharp edges make one think he’s cruel, vicious, and brutal, which I’m sure he is, but to his people, his pack, he is protective. Safeguarding them with his own life. I have no doubt Roman would willingly lay his life down for them if trouble were to come to his doorstep.
The thought makes me stop in my tracks, “I can’t be here, Roman. I need to leave. I went in search of you, but I can’t—" My words are tumbling out of my lips, making no sense at all. I take a deep breath, “Look at what you’ve created here.” I gesture around as if he doesn’t already know, “I’ll only break what you’ve built. Having me here is like hoarding a juicy steak from a pack of starving wolves, punnotintended.”
Roman folds his tattooed arms across his broad chest, his head tilting to the side with his eyes glowing in anger, “What the fuck do you mean leave? Sorry, Little Wolf, but you’re not going anywhere.” His words are a growl which only makes me growl in response.Damn Alpha, “From what you’ve told me earlier, this fucker, bitch-ass-Cree, won’t stop looking for you. Why not have a pack this size behind you, a pack as loyal as mine at your back,” He steps forward and cups both sides of my neck with his rough hands, tilting my head back with his thumbs so that my eyes meet his, “withmeat your side?”
Damn, his glowing eyes are mesmerizing, “I don’t even know you. Hell, I don’t even know your family name! All I know is I’m mated to a stranger with a giant bounty on my head. If you think for one moment, I’ll be able to talk my way out of this shit with Cree, you’re sadly mistaken. I’ll be lucky if someone takes mercy on me and kills me before Cree gets me.” His hands partially shift, the tips of his wolf’s claws piercing the soft skin at the back of my neck making me wince, but I don’t take back my words. Cree won’t just kill me; he’ll do so much worse...after he finishes what he started on that ceremonial bed.
“My name is Roman Cut, I was born under the blue moon, and raised by a pack that tried to separate me and my brothers. I left home and formed my own pack when I was eighteen, I’m older than Colorado, I like whiskey, motorcycles, and you.” He sounds like he’s angrily reading from a list, it makes me bite my lip to hold back my smile as he continues in his rumbling voice, “in the centuries I’ve been alive, I’ve killed more men than I can ever hope to count, but I’ve come close to death only twice. The tales spun about me, and my brothers are all true but one; we can die, but the how will never be told. My power is above all others of our kind and the only person outside of my brothers who can gain a part of that power, is you.”
I feel my eyes blink like hazard lights on a car, “Uh, what?”
“Once we fully mate, you’ll take part of my power as your own. Which means, Cree won’t be able to lay a fucking claw on you. You’ll be unkillable to the likes of him.”
His grip on my neck loosens as he slides his finger down, pulling the neckline of my t-shirt down. I can feel his eyes on the mate mark he left, “What do you mean, fully mate? What the hell did we do then, because that mark certainly didn’t happen with a session of dry humping.”
His rumbling laugh goes straight to my pussy, making my clit pulse in excitement. Damn, the bitch can’t be sated. Still, you can’t blame me for my response, there’s no sound as thrilling as Roman Cut’s laugh. Well, except maybe those growls and roars of his when he fucked me.Yeah, those are definitely at the top of my list.
“You didn’t bite me, Jaz,” When I look at him with a confused face, he rolls his eyes, “did no one ever teach you about mating rituals?”
I roll my eyes and shove off his hands so I can think straight, “Well, I guess the answer to that would be no. Cree said mating was the man taking a part of the female’s power with the mate bite. I never knew it went both ways.” I look Roman in the eyes, I want him to see my honesty, “He never bit me. He didn’t even get to lay a finger on me.”
“I know he didn’t, I knew it from the moment I scented you at the garage in town. I wouldn’t have touched you no matter how much you enticed me, if you were mated to someone else...” Once again, he pulls me to his side. I feel my wolf sigh in relief as his skin touches mine while we walk past the base of the fountain, “Maybe.”