Viper Game
Page 109
You thought right. Keep talkin’. I’m strugglin’ to stay conscious.
He didn’t want them to bring him unconscious to his grandmother, or to Ginger. The child had become attached to all of them in a very short time. She would be overjoyed to see her sisters, but she was far too intelligent and she would comprehend that he’d been wounded rescuing them.
Wyatt forced his mind to accept the possibility of death. He reached for Ezekiel. If somethin’ happens to me, send for Gator and Flame. Nonny will need them and they can help Pepper with the girls. My girls. I have three daughters, Zeke. I’d like to see them grow up.
Stop bein’ a morbid son of a bitch, Wyatt. You can’t die and you know it. You’ve got too many responsibilities. So just make up your mind to get through this and do it.
Yeah, that was Ezekiel. All soft edges and sympathy. Wyatt would have laughed but it hurt too damned bad.
Chapter 18
Wyatt stood leaning in the doorway, his entire body shimmering with rage. Pure, black rage. The red welled up to join the black and the cat DNA added to the already lethal mixture. He could taste the terrible mixture in his mouth, a terrible concoction of temper, jealousy, desire and possessiveness. The combination was ugly and it was dangerous.
Pepper’s soft laughter ripped through his body. There was happiness there. Joy even. His three little girls danced in the parlor, turning in circles while Pepper danced too – with Ezekiel and Mordichai. Mordichai.
The man had joined them while Wyatt was unconscious, and he’d certainly wormed his way into the household. Right now, his gaze was on Pepper, drinking her in. Ezekiel at least had the decency to try to keep his eyes averted. With his enhanced senses, the elevation of male testosterone wasn’t that difficult to smell. Or Pepper. The biochemical spilled out of her, leaving traces behind.
Mordichai reached a hand under Pepper’s elbow when she nearly tripped. She was wearing the boots he bought her. He bought her. Wyatt. Not Mordichai. His gaze found Mordichai’s hand wrapped around Pepper’s bare skin. His stomach knotted and every muscle in his body tensed. He clenched his teeth, the ugly beast clawing at his gut, urging him to claim what was his and destroy his enemies.
The floor trembled. The walls breathed. In and out. Ezekiel stopped moving and spun to face him, his alert gaze noting the direct, focused stare. Very casually, he reached out to his brother and drew him away from Pepper and behind his own body. The smile faded from Pepper’s eyes.
“Wyatt. You’re up. Good to see you on your feet,” Ezekiel greeted.
“Just in time to witness the cozy little domestic scene,” Wyatt spat back, his fury rising in direct proportion to the tension in the room.
The three babies stopped twirling and looked at him, puzzled. There was no way they couldn’t feel that mounting tension.
“Mordichai capped the babies’ teeth earlier this morning,” Ezekiel said. “We were entertaining them in the hopes that if it was too painful, we could distract them.”
Wyatt’s eyes dropped to his children. Every morning, for the last two weeks, they’d played on his bed, Pepper making certain they didn’t get too lively and hurt him. He’d gotten up often, this certainly wasn’t his first time, but this time he was much steadier and knew he was well on the way to mending.
He noted all three girls had wet circles around the clothing at their necks. A wide wet circle. On their pale skin was a growing rash, rings of red dots. Instantly he was frowning, his alarm kicking in. They were all still cutting teeth and they drooled, but not like that. Not so severely. There was a faint hint of color in the saliva.
He dropped down on one knee, wincing as his thigh pulled and throbbed. Instantly all three girls ran to him. It had taken a lot of work to get Thym to trust him, but she finally had capitulated, mostly, he figured, because he didn’t push himself on her. She still kept aloof from most of the others. He was gratified when she wound her arm around his leg.
“Does your mouth hurt?” he asked, infusing gentleness in his tone, breathing away the dark, angry jealousy that was growing inside of him like a fierce beast.
The three little girls looked at one another. He felt the energy swirling around them as they communicated telepathically. He wanted to groan aloud and glanced up at Pepper to see if she understood what kind of trouble they were in with three girls who could talk silently to one another behind their parents’ backs.
The moment his eyes met Pepper’s he knew she was aware of the monster growing inside of him. He’d tried to warn her he wasn’t the sweet guy she believed him to be. All along he’d told her, but she persisted in looking at him through rose-colored glasses. He had to live with her heat cycle and men throwing themselves at her, she could see what was inside of him, snarling and clawing to rip apart anyone who got near her. Then he took in her clothes.
“What the fuck are you wearin’?” he demanded, angry all over. Fury took over, absolute fury. His gaze dropped over her body, and need slammed low and wicked, a powerful punch to his groin. He nearly saw stars.
She looked like a million bucks, sexy as hell. Her skirt clung to her hips and flared out to swing around her calves and clung to her bottom lovingly. There was a slit up the side exposing far too much leg. And the camisole top was bordering on indecency. Worse, she was wearing the boots. The ones with the stiletto heels, the ones that clearly shouted “fuck me” to any male within a five-mile radius.
“Where in the sweet hell did you get that outfit?”
He didn’t want them to bring him unconscious to his grandmother, or to Ginger. The child had become attached to all of them in a very short time. She would be overjoyed to see her sisters, but she was far too intelligent and she would comprehend that he’d been wounded rescuing them.
Wyatt forced his mind to accept the possibility of death. He reached for Ezekiel. If somethin’ happens to me, send for Gator and Flame. Nonny will need them and they can help Pepper with the girls. My girls. I have three daughters, Zeke. I’d like to see them grow up.
Stop bein’ a morbid son of a bitch, Wyatt. You can’t die and you know it. You’ve got too many responsibilities. So just make up your mind to get through this and do it.
Yeah, that was Ezekiel. All soft edges and sympathy. Wyatt would have laughed but it hurt too damned bad.
Chapter 18
Wyatt stood leaning in the doorway, his entire body shimmering with rage. Pure, black rage. The red welled up to join the black and the cat DNA added to the already lethal mixture. He could taste the terrible mixture in his mouth, a terrible concoction of temper, jealousy, desire and possessiveness. The combination was ugly and it was dangerous.
Pepper’s soft laughter ripped through his body. There was happiness there. Joy even. His three little girls danced in the parlor, turning in circles while Pepper danced too – with Ezekiel and Mordichai. Mordichai.
The man had joined them while Wyatt was unconscious, and he’d certainly wormed his way into the household. Right now, his gaze was on Pepper, drinking her in. Ezekiel at least had the decency to try to keep his eyes averted. With his enhanced senses, the elevation of male testosterone wasn’t that difficult to smell. Or Pepper. The biochemical spilled out of her, leaving traces behind.
Mordichai reached a hand under Pepper’s elbow when she nearly tripped. She was wearing the boots he bought her. He bought her. Wyatt. Not Mordichai. His gaze found Mordichai’s hand wrapped around Pepper’s bare skin. His stomach knotted and every muscle in his body tensed. He clenched his teeth, the ugly beast clawing at his gut, urging him to claim what was his and destroy his enemies.
The floor trembled. The walls breathed. In and out. Ezekiel stopped moving and spun to face him, his alert gaze noting the direct, focused stare. Very casually, he reached out to his brother and drew him away from Pepper and behind his own body. The smile faded from Pepper’s eyes.
“Wyatt. You’re up. Good to see you on your feet,” Ezekiel greeted.
“Just in time to witness the cozy little domestic scene,” Wyatt spat back, his fury rising in direct proportion to the tension in the room.
The three babies stopped twirling and looked at him, puzzled. There was no way they couldn’t feel that mounting tension.
“Mordichai capped the babies’ teeth earlier this morning,” Ezekiel said. “We were entertaining them in the hopes that if it was too painful, we could distract them.”
Wyatt’s eyes dropped to his children. Every morning, for the last two weeks, they’d played on his bed, Pepper making certain they didn’t get too lively and hurt him. He’d gotten up often, this certainly wasn’t his first time, but this time he was much steadier and knew he was well on the way to mending.
He noted all three girls had wet circles around the clothing at their necks. A wide wet circle. On their pale skin was a growing rash, rings of red dots. Instantly he was frowning, his alarm kicking in. They were all still cutting teeth and they drooled, but not like that. Not so severely. There was a faint hint of color in the saliva.
He dropped down on one knee, wincing as his thigh pulled and throbbed. Instantly all three girls ran to him. It had taken a lot of work to get Thym to trust him, but she finally had capitulated, mostly, he figured, because he didn’t push himself on her. She still kept aloof from most of the others. He was gratified when she wound her arm around his leg.
“Does your mouth hurt?” he asked, infusing gentleness in his tone, breathing away the dark, angry jealousy that was growing inside of him like a fierce beast.
The three little girls looked at one another. He felt the energy swirling around them as they communicated telepathically. He wanted to groan aloud and glanced up at Pepper to see if she understood what kind of trouble they were in with three girls who could talk silently to one another behind their parents’ backs.
The moment his eyes met Pepper’s he knew she was aware of the monster growing inside of him. He’d tried to warn her he wasn’t the sweet guy she believed him to be. All along he’d told her, but she persisted in looking at him through rose-colored glasses. He had to live with her heat cycle and men throwing themselves at her, she could see what was inside of him, snarling and clawing to rip apart anyone who got near her. Then he took in her clothes.
“What the fuck are you wearin’?” he demanded, angry all over. Fury took over, absolute fury. His gaze dropped over her body, and need slammed low and wicked, a powerful punch to his groin. He nearly saw stars.
She looked like a million bucks, sexy as hell. Her skirt clung to her hips and flared out to swing around her calves and clung to her bottom lovingly. There was a slit up the side exposing far too much leg. And the camisole top was bordering on indecency. Worse, she was wearing the boots. The ones with the stiletto heels, the ones that clearly shouted “fuck me” to any male within a five-mile radius.
“Where in the sweet hell did you get that outfit?”
