The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 119: Chapter 119
You are reading The Maverick Pride Tales, Chapter 119: Chapter 119. Read more chapters of The Maverick Pride Tales.
Prologue
“I’m so done with this shit, Lance!” The female stormed out of the connecting bathroom to his room at the Pride house.
Brenda grabbed the slinky little dress she’d worn earlier that night, tugging it over her semi-naked body. He’d known the she-Tiger since high school, and they’d enjoyed a friends with benefits relationship on and off for the past five years.
He grimaced as she slammed the door, rattling the framed autographed posters of some of his favorite football players he’d hung on the wall. Fuck. He felt like shit and didn’t blame her for being pissed.
Five years of no strings sex and this was the first time he’d ever failed to rise to the occasion. It sucked balls she was one of the Pride, someone he’d once sowed his oats with back in the day. Word of his problem was bound to spread like wildfire, and Lance so did not want to deal with that shit.
“Brenda, I told you, I’m just tired—”
“Yeah, right. You are tired, Lance. Maybe you should see a doctor,” she snarled before walking across the room to find her shoes.
“Fuck,” he growled, shaking his head.
He couldn’t even drum up enough interest to feel bad. As for his Tiger, if anything the beast was relieved the overbearing female was gone. He wanted none of the she-Cat’s attentions, and Lance could not blame him.
Lately, she’d been coming on strong, hinting about claiming bites and having cubs. His balls just about crawled inside him when she’d mentioned seeing Doc Mikey about going off her birth control for her upcoming heat cycle.
Fuck no.
He wanted no part of that. Fathering her cubs was not something he saw himself doing. Besides, he had nothing to offer the skinny female. And he’d told her so, repeatedly. A loveless match like his parents had just didn’t appeal.
Could anyone blame him? He’d had a front-row seat the past couple years, witnessing every single one of the Neta's Honor Guard find their fated mates. It was a miracle, er, not really. A crafty old Witch named Uncle Uzzi had brought this string of good luck to the Pride. Him and his Magical Matchmaking Service.
Everyone was constantly begging their Nari, Elissa, to call the elderly man to set up an appointment. He had to admit, he’d been thinking about it himself lately.
That’s why he was surprised when Brenda had asked him to sire her cubs. The she-Cat was not for him. She wasn’t his fated mate—a hard truth his Tiger recognized and telling her had been difficult.
Slowly, Lance rubbed his hand over his face. He’d been trying to stay awake, but he was wiped out between work and dealing with this load of crap. Brenda had known from the start what the deal was, and she had never had issue till now.
He was more than fine ending their arrangement, but now he had to deal with the fallout of her rumor mongering. Like it was his fault his dick decided to take a nap despite her striptease.
Fuck.
What time was it anyway? He had work tomorrow, and the Nari had asked him to take her to her OB/GYN appointment. His Tiger chuffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of him, an elite member of the Neta’s Honor Guard, chauffeuring the man’s mate to her lady doctor appointment.
Oh joy, oh fucking rapture.
He was a fan of Elissa’s, but the Nari had to know he was already breaking out in hives at the thought of that detail. But maybe it was better than hanging around and listening to whatever poison Brenda spread around about him.
He really didn’t understand her at all. He’d told Brenda he was tired, had all but stopped seeing her the past few weeks, but she insisted on coming over last night after he’d run into her at Bar None. The place used to be a dive bar, but with a new owner, it had turned into a veritable hotspot located in nearby Barvale.
Lance and Brenda had a few rounds of drinks, and she insisted on catching a ride with him. He’d offered to drive her home, but she wanted a nightcap, so, gentleman that he was, he’d offered her a beer. Too tired to drive again, he told her she was welcome to stay the night.
But that was all he offered. No sex. Just sleep. Lance did not touch the female except maybe with his leg when he laid down on his bed. It was his fucking bed, after all. If she wanted to sleep beside him, then fine, but it had to be strictly platonic. It was the only way his Tiger would allow her to stay.
The beast had gotten territorial and downright picky. He did not want Lance fucking around with just anyone, and yes, it put a huge cramp in his style. Fucker would not let him get laid, and it was all he could do to keep his skin.
“Look, Brenda, I’m trying to sleep. What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked and growled. “Whose underwear is this, Lance? Is this why you won’t sleep with me? I found it tucked inside the face towel, for shit’s sake.”
The long-legged female tossed a purple thong in his face, but for the life of him, he had no idea whose it was. How was a guy supposed to remember a thing like that, anyway?
Wait—did she say it was in his face towel? Gross.
“Brenda, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he grunted and sat up, tossing the panties into the trash bin. “First, I live in the Pride House. Those panties could belong to any of the females here—we share a laundry room. But even if we didn’t, you and me, we ain’t a couple. We are not dating, or fucking, or anything at all. Not for weeks!”
“How can you talk to me like that?” she asked.
Fuck him, it looked like she was about to start with the waterworks.
“Like what, Brenda? We’ve known each other a long time and I never lied to you or pretended feelings I did not have. Hell, I don’t even think you like me!”
“But you asked me to come here—”
“No. I didn’t. You invited yourself here. It wasn’t the other way around,” he answered firmly.
Yes, it was shitty. But she better face facts now. Before she went real nuts and smashed his cell phone or something.
“Fine,” she snarled, and he noticed the tears were miraculously gone. “What can I say? I thought you were special, but you’re not,” she huffed, tugging on her heels.
"I’m sorry if you made this out to be something it wasn’t, Brenda. I am sure you will find someone who makes you happy—”
“Oh, fuck you, pal! You know something else, Lance? You’ll get yours,” she growled then spat at him.
Holy fuck. Classy.
Lance dodged her loogie and frowned at it as the she-Cat slammed the door to his room and stormed out of the Pride House.
Well, shit.
“I’m so done with this shit, Lance!” The female stormed out of the connecting bathroom to his room at the Pride house.
Brenda grabbed the slinky little dress she’d worn earlier that night, tugging it over her semi-naked body. He’d known the she-Tiger since high school, and they’d enjoyed a friends with benefits relationship on and off for the past five years.
He grimaced as she slammed the door, rattling the framed autographed posters of some of his favorite football players he’d hung on the wall. Fuck. He felt like shit and didn’t blame her for being pissed.
Five years of no strings sex and this was the first time he’d ever failed to rise to the occasion. It sucked balls she was one of the Pride, someone he’d once sowed his oats with back in the day. Word of his problem was bound to spread like wildfire, and Lance so did not want to deal with that shit.
“Brenda, I told you, I’m just tired—”
“Yeah, right. You are tired, Lance. Maybe you should see a doctor,” she snarled before walking across the room to find her shoes.
“Fuck,” he growled, shaking his head.
He couldn’t even drum up enough interest to feel bad. As for his Tiger, if anything the beast was relieved the overbearing female was gone. He wanted none of the she-Cat’s attentions, and Lance could not blame him.
Lately, she’d been coming on strong, hinting about claiming bites and having cubs. His balls just about crawled inside him when she’d mentioned seeing Doc Mikey about going off her birth control for her upcoming heat cycle.
Fuck no.
He wanted no part of that. Fathering her cubs was not something he saw himself doing. Besides, he had nothing to offer the skinny female. And he’d told her so, repeatedly. A loveless match like his parents had just didn’t appeal.
Could anyone blame him? He’d had a front-row seat the past couple years, witnessing every single one of the Neta's Honor Guard find their fated mates. It was a miracle, er, not really. A crafty old Witch named Uncle Uzzi had brought this string of good luck to the Pride. Him and his Magical Matchmaking Service.
Everyone was constantly begging their Nari, Elissa, to call the elderly man to set up an appointment. He had to admit, he’d been thinking about it himself lately.
That’s why he was surprised when Brenda had asked him to sire her cubs. The she-Cat was not for him. She wasn’t his fated mate—a hard truth his Tiger recognized and telling her had been difficult.
Slowly, Lance rubbed his hand over his face. He’d been trying to stay awake, but he was wiped out between work and dealing with this load of crap. Brenda had known from the start what the deal was, and she had never had issue till now.
He was more than fine ending their arrangement, but now he had to deal with the fallout of her rumor mongering. Like it was his fault his dick decided to take a nap despite her striptease.
Fuck.
What time was it anyway? He had work tomorrow, and the Nari had asked him to take her to her OB/GYN appointment. His Tiger chuffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of him, an elite member of the Neta’s Honor Guard, chauffeuring the man’s mate to her lady doctor appointment.
Oh joy, oh fucking rapture.
He was a fan of Elissa’s, but the Nari had to know he was already breaking out in hives at the thought of that detail. But maybe it was better than hanging around and listening to whatever poison Brenda spread around about him.
He really didn’t understand her at all. He’d told Brenda he was tired, had all but stopped seeing her the past few weeks, but she insisted on coming over last night after he’d run into her at Bar None. The place used to be a dive bar, but with a new owner, it had turned into a veritable hotspot located in nearby Barvale.
Lance and Brenda had a few rounds of drinks, and she insisted on catching a ride with him. He’d offered to drive her home, but she wanted a nightcap, so, gentleman that he was, he’d offered her a beer. Too tired to drive again, he told her she was welcome to stay the night.
But that was all he offered. No sex. Just sleep. Lance did not touch the female except maybe with his leg when he laid down on his bed. It was his fucking bed, after all. If she wanted to sleep beside him, then fine, but it had to be strictly platonic. It was the only way his Tiger would allow her to stay.
The beast had gotten territorial and downright picky. He did not want Lance fucking around with just anyone, and yes, it put a huge cramp in his style. Fucker would not let him get laid, and it was all he could do to keep his skin.
“Look, Brenda, I’m trying to sleep. What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked and growled. “Whose underwear is this, Lance? Is this why you won’t sleep with me? I found it tucked inside the face towel, for shit’s sake.”
The long-legged female tossed a purple thong in his face, but for the life of him, he had no idea whose it was. How was a guy supposed to remember a thing like that, anyway?
Wait—did she say it was in his face towel? Gross.
“Brenda, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he grunted and sat up, tossing the panties into the trash bin. “First, I live in the Pride House. Those panties could belong to any of the females here—we share a laundry room. But even if we didn’t, you and me, we ain’t a couple. We are not dating, or fucking, or anything at all. Not for weeks!”
“How can you talk to me like that?” she asked.
Fuck him, it looked like she was about to start with the waterworks.
“Like what, Brenda? We’ve known each other a long time and I never lied to you or pretended feelings I did not have. Hell, I don’t even think you like me!”
“But you asked me to come here—”
“No. I didn’t. You invited yourself here. It wasn’t the other way around,” he answered firmly.
Yes, it was shitty. But she better face facts now. Before she went real nuts and smashed his cell phone or something.
“Fine,” she snarled, and he noticed the tears were miraculously gone. “What can I say? I thought you were special, but you’re not,” she huffed, tugging on her heels.
"I’m sorry if you made this out to be something it wasn’t, Brenda. I am sure you will find someone who makes you happy—”
“Oh, fuck you, pal! You know something else, Lance? You’ll get yours,” she growled then spat at him.
Holy fuck. Classy.
Lance dodged her loogie and frowned at it as the she-Cat slammed the door to his room and stormed out of the Pride House.
Well, shit.
End of The Maverick Pride Tales Chapter 119. Continue reading Chapter 120 or return to The Maverick Pride Tales book page.