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Episode Twenty-Three Green Giant

N adira

You'd think after the disgusting, chittering insect-guy and the wolfman who needed to be introduced to deodorant, I would welcome an almost-human male as he approached, but there's something about this one I take an immediate dislike to.

He just looks so… entitled, as though he owns the place. And the gall of him to just step to the front of the line as if no one else has been standing here for the last hour.

He saunters up and sits on the stump in front of us, then speaks directly to Azael.

"I want the female." His voice is barely more than a growl that makes the corner of his mouth curl, exposing more of one of his menacing ivory tusks.

I hadn't thought it possible, but he's more of an ass than the senator, and that's saying a lot.

"The female," Azael sniffs contemptuously, "has a name and is conducting her own negotiations. You may return to the back of the line and wait your turn."

I can't control my urge to sneak my hand to my mate's thigh and give it a soft stroke of appreciation as the humongous green male snorts, stands, and leaves.

Although the next male in line has now approached our booth and is sitting on his appointed stump, my gaze follows the male who just left as he wanders out of the cleared rendezvous area and tramps through the underbrush to a tree stump.

He reaches down, pulls the stump, which must be three feet across, out of the ground, and carries it back toward our booth.

He plucked that stump, roots and all, from the earth and as it drips clumps of dirt, he steps toward us as though he's carrying nothing heavier than a houseplant.

He's heading directly toward the small vole-like male in front of us, coming at such a high rate of speed the vole-man leaps off his stump just in time before the green giant thumps his stump next to the just-vacated one.

"The other one barely fit one ass cheek," he grumbles as he settles his enormous frame onto the new stump. "How can you expect a decent negotiation from a male who can't get comfortable?"

He leans forward, thumps his elbows on the plank separating us from him, looks me squarely in the eyes, and asks, "You have questions for me?"

That I dislike him already seems beside the point. I take a moment to mentally review the criteria I composed on our way here this morning as I notice the vole-male has run from the vicinity.

My suitor is big and unafraid. That will come in handy in the coming war. He doesn't take no for an answer. I guess that's good for an assault upon enemies, although not really a plus in a mate.

"How many males can you bring to our cause? We want to attack Up Above," I ask.

"Stand up," he commands.

"I do not take orders from you." My irritation is quickly turning into dislike.

"Stand," he says with the air of a male who is used to ordering others around. He leans over the plank I'd hoped would be a protective barrier. "I want to see how tall you are."

"Fighting a war isn't all about brawn."

"I'm not worried about the war," he drawls. "I want to see if you're big enough to take my cock."

While my mind is still processing his audacity, Azael leaps to his feet, presses his face close to the giant, and growls as he unsheathes his sword.

The giant laughs, tossing his head back in amusement. His voice is so deep from the cavernous cavity of his chest it reverberates all around us.

"I was just curious. A male needs to be able to fuck his mate without killing her," he says as he sits.

I've been calm and patient for the last ten males. Now I'm fed up.

"Get out, let the next male have his turn," I say as I stand.

He doesn't budge. Instead, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and says, "Shorter than I thought, but I think you can take my cock. Take a look. You tell me."

Before I can sputter a resounding, "NO!" he stands, whips out his massive emerald-green cock and sets it on the plank!

I take a step back, point at the offending appendage, and shout, "Get that off our table!"

He laughs again, that deep voice booming as he shoves his penis back into his leather pants. And why the fuck was it erect ?

"Here's how I see it," he says as he leans forward, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You can take my cock, which is the part of the bargain I was worried about. You want to wage war? I have 552 males under my command. At least that's the number I brought with me to the rendezvous. If any of them got into deadly brawls and lost their lives since then, I can't account for that."

He cups his palm on his green chin, avoiding his thick, upward-jutting tusks as he appears to think.

"You want an army? I can deliver. All I want is your cunt any time I ask for it." As an afterthought, he adds, "As many times as I want."

I'm quivering with anger.

"Bastard!" Shit. I'd wanted to be congenial, but this brute does not deserve my best behavior.

He smiles and laughs again.

"I need a female who can talk back to me. I'm told I come across as… harsh." He shrugs as if he doesn't quite understand why anyone would call him that.

Azael stands and conspicuously lifts his sword, increasing his threat-level. "Do you want me to make him leave?"

My mate's muscles are coiled, his teeth clamped together in anger. All I need to do is say the word and Azael will lop this jerk's head from his shoulders.

"No," I say, the word leaving my mouth slowly as I give it deep thought. "I think we might be able to hammer out a contract."

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