"Mate…Laid the claim…mine."
What always worked in the movies? I closed my eyes, prayed to the gods of ball breaking, and kneed him as hard as possible in the family jewels. He grunted, and the second his hold loosened a fraction, I threw all my weight in the direction away from him. I managed to slip away.
I ran, struggling to keep my focus on the path ahead and not look back, but I did because when I turned a corner between two apartment buildings, I ran straight into someone.
Oh, thank god. I was saved. Chase stood there in front of me.
"Hey, there you are." He smiled brightly.
"Chase." I panted, cursing my lungs for demanding air and wasting precious time. “Chase, danger.”
“Wow. I should totally change my name to Chase Danger.”
My hands found purchase on his shoulders and tried to shake the easy-going nature from him. “Chase, we’re in danger.”
“Yeah, I know.” Oh, thank god. Yet instead of fleeing or confronting the bad guy, he placed his hand against my cheek. “Even being away from you for a second is too much.”
His words were too strange to decipher. Footsteps came nearer from behind me. Oh no. Oh—everything screeched to a halt as Chase pressed his lips to mine.
Despite the situation, my mouth opened to him immediately. I had no choice, given the sweet, easy way he kissed me, like we’d done this a thousand times and would do it a thousand more. It felt too good to resist. He kissed me like we meant something to each other. He kissed me like I mattered.
I’d been afraid of going crazy before. If my mind thought Chase and I were making out in broad daylight like nothing else existed or mattered, if even relatively innocent touches sparked more passion and sensation than some sex I’d regrettably had, then one thing was clear.
I had indeed gone mad. It was actually pretty great. Nothing to be scared of after all. I sank into his arms and the bliss of insanity.
7.Introduction to Bodice Ripping
Lucas
In the crazy Olympics, it turned out I wasn’t even demented enough to earn a bronze medal. Because the stranger who followed me and pronounced us husbands was definitely playing in a whole other league of nonsense. There was no competition, not from me. Chase might have a shot at winning since the detective I barely knew kissed the life out of me instead of detaining the bad man.
Of all the things that might have occurred next, I wasn’t expecting an exchanging of business cards. The man’s card identified him as Vince Bolton. And Chase’s…
“So, it’s not really a business card, but I wrote my number on the back and now you’re only four punches shy of a free six-inch sub.”
"Yes, this will do quite nicely.” Vince grinned, clutching the slightly crumpled card like a prized possession. “Surely we can settle this matter between us.”
“’kay, but we probably shouldn’t duke it out in public, ya know?” Chase stage whispered, looking around. “A fight isn’t even a fight without claws and a healthy amount of bloodshed.” Chase inhaled an extremely exaggerated sniff in the guy’s direction. “Oh shit, you aren’t a shifter. Guess it’d be anunhealthyamount of blood for you.”
He laughed uproariously, slapping the man on the chest like they were bros. Despite gritting his teeth, the man managed to not react otherwise at the force of the hit.
What the hell? Was this even Chase? Did Chase have a remarkably dumb identical twin?
"Fighting? No, no, no." The man brushed over his suit jacket, standing to his full height. “My magicwillthrottle you, yet you’ll still be healed the next day claiming you won. It’s much cleaner to do this officially, that’s what mating accords were created for, right?”
“Whatever, my job ain’t too far from here and it’s close to Sandwich World too.”
"What?"
"The sub place.” Chase nodded to the ‘business’ card he’d provided. “Should we just go there? I’ll find somebody to cover my shift and we’ll get this settled."
"Yes, lets."
Bolton obviously considered Chase an easy mark despite some wariness over the other’s superior strength. Were they really fighting overme?
Why not just ask me to settle this? Surely the only votes that counted were mine and whoever I chose to…no, I refused to even consider any supposed ‘mating accords’ and how they might apply to me.
We all piled into Bolton’s chauffeured black Escalade. He insisted we all travel together, afraid Chase would throw me over his shoulder and run otherwise. Chase placed a proprietary hand on my knee the whole ride over. Another part I tried not to think about.
