Page 22 of Little Risk of Fall


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6BREAKFAST IN BED

Jasper

The two of us slept in late and I felt a twinge of guilt as I rolled out of bed, leaving Alex still sleeping. It was almost noon, and I wanted to wake him up with breakfast in bed.

I studied him for a moment, smiling. He was warm and cute, covered in love marks here and there.

I wanted to take him again last night but I was glad we had slowed down. We had plenty of time to do everything I had planned.

He would need his rest. Tonight was another night of games, and I was overly excited to present them to him.

I pulled on my furred kilt and went down the steps, damn near running straight into Rabe.

He stepped back, holding up his hands. “Learned my lesson.”

I glared at him, waiting for him to keep walking.

I didn’t tolerate disrespect. He was lucky I hadn’t done more.

I let out a sigh once he left, meeting the curious gaze of Gregg. He came over to me, raising a brow.

“I heard the two of you fought,” he said.

“We did.”

Gregg nodded, joining me in watching the stupid fool waltz off.

“I don’t trust him,” Gregg murmured.

“I don’t either,” I said. “Everyone knew not to challenge me. Not to try and take what is mine. Except him.”

Gregg nodded. “If he would have gone after Will, I’d be digging a grave this morning.”

“Would you give him the honor of digging a grave?” I asked.

Gregg snorted, clapping me on the back. “I always enjoy it when I see you, Jasper. How has it been with the Barista?”

“Good,” I lied. That was always the answer I gave.

That was the answer anyone in his tight circle gave. Not that he’d ever asked me to.

None of us wanted others in our business. The world of monsters was cruel and dark. It was a way to protect the things all of us had done to find peace.

I thought for a moment about the two fallen angels that were doing their time right now. Complicated family matters with those two, given that they were technically stepsons to the Barista at one point.

Lucifer had really fucked a lot of monsters over. He was almost back, too, based on the dead witches popping up here and there.

There had been one more since I had met with the Barista. Now, he was doing his best to let their covens know.

Witches were like monsters, only a little different. They were truly stuck between our world and humans, a bridge that sometimes crumbled.

Still, I had witches I called friend. One of them was the reason I could walk around humans without them screaming that I was a giant swamp ogre.

Ogres and orcs were completely different, although I didn’t expect humans to know that.

“We made pancakes,” Gregg said, smiling. “Pancakes and all the things. I’m sure there are some plates left for you and your mate.”

“Thanks, Gregg,” I said, nodding.

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