4. Rok’nhar

FOUR

I can't sleep.

Bed's too warm, skin's too hot. Itchy, too, like I got salamanders scramblin' through my veins. Jerked off in a cold shower three times now, but here I am, still lying awake in this big old bed feeling lighter than godsdamn air and frustrated as hell.

Not just because my prick won't quit, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still thinking about that ass. Watching that perfect peach ripple and tense every time my palm made purchase, watching her writhe and buck and make those sweet little whimpers. She came at the end there, didn't she? Honestly, it all felt like a dream, still does. The way she glowed, the scent of her…

The cool side of my pillow does nothing to settle me down. Turning this way and that, I finally find some comfort on my back, one arm behind my head and one leg on top of my tangled sheets.

Something sparked between us while that camera was rolling, maybe even before that. Something wild and dangerous and raw and real. I may not know what the hell I'm doing when it comes to the fairer sex of any species but, I know one thing for sure: that was more than business, that was, no matter how she acted there in the end.

Fuck, I gotta stop thinking about Orlagh. About those wide hips and that golden skin, smooth as sin. Turns out that supple skin can get much brighter than the sweet summer strawberry blush she'd had at my door, redder and hotter and brighter until she was moaning and grinding against my thigh, feral as a hellcat. I should have stopped her, should have reined her in, but fuck if her riding my thigh in that bikini wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

I close my eyes, trying for sleep again, but she's right fucking there when I do, smiling and shining and sighing, and godsdamn it if I'm not right back where I started. I flex my foot, rolling onto my side. If I keep reflecting on my time with that tangerine dream, I'm gonna burst into song or bust in my briefs and be on my fifth shower of the day.

Why can't I stop thinking about her?

I mean, part of me is always thinking about her, but… I don't know. Something's different, something I can't quite get a rope around.

I huff out a breath, rolling onto my back. Riding a high from it still, that's all. Been crushing on her since I first laid eyes on her, haven't I? Gotta be what's got me all keyed up.

Right?

Because, gods help me, but I can't stop thinking about that heat I felt, the connection between us. How badly I wanted her, and how badly she wanted… me.

The desire in those big beautiful fawn eyes, the way they went all molten lilac before we kissed? There was something Orlagh needed that I could give her, something I didn't even know I had in me in the first place. My ex was… well, nothing like her. Cruel, condescending, constantly bemoaning my bulk, equating fat with incapable and acting like she was doing me some kind of fucked up favor every time we fucked.

But Orlagh… well, she didn't treat me like that at all, and she put her trust in me in a way that no one had before. The power that gave me, the responsibility? I ain't ashamed to say I liked it; sure liked doing it all on camera with her, too. Taking on that role, finding that part of myself with her tonight felt… natural, right, and really, really fucking incredible.

But more than any of that physical stuff, I can't stop thinking about all these godsdamn feelings being near her like that awoke in me, feelings I can't just work through beating the ever-loving hell out of my prick in the shower.

Because after all that business, after she knew the cameras were off… she had been the one to kiss me.

Those golden hands of hers had no qualms about roaming every inch of my body, even the bits of myself I'd learned to feel ashamed of over the years, from my ex and others. Had I ever been with someone who didn't shy away from my belly, act like it was some no-man"s-land they dared not tread? And to see that goddess's long, elegant fingers gliding so… tenderly over places I truly believed undeserving of such treatment…

She'd wanted more, wanted me, all of me, and if I hadn't opened my damn mouth…

Well hells, guess there's no way I'm getting back to sleep tonight.

I kick off the sheets in defeat and sit on the edge of my bed, running my hands through my wet hair. Because all that with Orlagh may have me feeling lighter than air and horny as fuck, but there's something else that's got that restless itch flaring beneath my skin, something that made my blood rise in a much different way.

The thing that has me riled up, frustrated, and feeling like a caged animal, is thinking about those godsdamn patched up holes in the wall. About how she froze up like a deer in headlights when I mentioned them. Can't stop thinking about all those times I'd made a noise complaint or called security and gone back to bed, all those times I'd minded my business, all those times that mangy bastard could have really lost it and…

I shake my head as I stand and stretch, taking measured breaths while my fingertips brush along the bumpy ceiling. Clean as a whistle now, just like the rest of my place. Trudged out to the end of the parking lot with my recycling, hung my warhammer back on the wall and dusted the place from top to bottom. Rearranged my sock drawer, even cleaned out the fridge. Guess I went on a bit of a frenzy before that third shower, but it was the only thing I could think of to work off this fucking rage building up inside me.

I had known that fucker had a foul mouth and a hot temper, figured she did too since I could hear them cursing and hollering all the damn time. Always assumed they were just tossing shit around the room as they argued, that it was foreplay or something; I should have known it was more.

The dryer beeps, and I resign myself to some late night folding, the last damn thing in my house I can do aside from scrubbing down the toilet and tiles. Maybe I'll hop online after and see how deep in the shit I am with my guildmates after that no-show on the raid.

One of my tusks tickles my cheek as I smirk, imagining what they'd say if they knew what I'd been doing instead—not that any of them ever would. Never been one to kiss and tell, don't think I'm cut out to spank and share neither.

I'm pulling those damn sheets out of the dryer when I hear something else. Someone yelling and banging on a door. Not mine—Orlagh's. And it's a voice I recognize.

I'm out the door before I'm thinking, not giving two shits that I'm only in my briefs or that I'm still holding on to a pillowcase, and there that motherfucker is, growling and cursing as he hammers on her door.

"Open the FUCK up, Orlagh. Who was he, huh? He still in there?"

The closer I get the drunker he smells, the tighter my fists clench, the louder the blood pounding in my ears gets. Same as it did that first time, after Zar'thok bad mouthed my mama and threw my lunchbox in the river while we were waiting for the school bus. Right before I went all cold and hot at once, before everything went quiet and I almost beat the tusks clean off him. But even at nine and change, I knew I'd have to hold back if I didn't want to end up like my daddy; in and out of jail until I eventually started something I wasn't cut out to finish.

Wolf stumbles as he leans against the door, pressing his face against it. "Come on, you fucking whore," he rasps, voice low and dangerous. "Why are you making me do this? Jex saw your little show and I can fucking smellhim, whoever the fuck he is, smell your fucking cunt from out here. Open the fucking door, Orlagh."

Fuck, I've got to calm the hell down. I can't beat the piss out of this mutt here, now, in front of her, even if the fucker deserves it. Last thing Orlagh needs is two fucking meatheads pummeling each other on her pretty pastel doormat, police getting called and some of his pack rolling out, me shaping out to be another felonious branch on my family tree and breaking not just the promise I made to myself when I found out how my daddy died but my mama's heart along with it.

Taking a couple deep breaths, I slow my pace, balling that pillowcase into a 7500 thread-count stress ball and setting my jaw.

The mutt winds up for a fresh round of assault on that door, stumbling again, and I can't help but scoff at the thought of how easy it would be to lay him out if I had a mind to. Never been one for starting fights, sure, but, well… let's just say they had a way of finding me, and I still ended my fair share back home, especially after that day with Zar'thok. Growing up soft and shy and stuck in a comic in a clan that favored the big and the brash made me out to be easy pickings as an orcling… for a time. It's not bravado that has me sure I'd have him turning tail and howling like a pup—I've got a satchel full of weight classes and a clear head on that fucker, not to mention this uncharacteristically persistent little vendetta that's been stirring me up since I left 16C and headed back home.

Fleabag turns and snarls at me when I'm a few steps away, still banging on the door. Yellow eyes flash as he puffs up his chest, raising his chin.

"What the fuck you want, lardass?"

Shouldn't hurt, but it does. Makes it harder to keep squeezing the hell out of this pillowcase instead of wringing his damn neck, too. Gotta think of Orlagh, though. She already kicked one monster out, can't have her thinking she's got one next door too, thinking of me like that after the way she gave me the reins in that scene today, after that charge between us.

It's got my hands near shaking, but I swallow the rage, regain control of myself, and size him up in my last few steps.

Wolf's got a rugged charm about him, ain't too up my own ass to admit that. Thick brown mutton chops, old enough to show a bit of gray but young enough to appeal to a wide audience of interested parties. Black leather and blue jeans, built, radiating power. Clearly an alpha. But the closer I get, the faster that all gets buried underneath a layer of sleaze and his fucking attitude, not to mention the smell of cheap beer and soapy perfume wafting off of him, making my nose twitch. He's really here, causing all this fucking ruckus, after being cozied up to some other female? This asshole has no shame.

Stopping right up next to him, right in his comfort zone, I rest one hand against the doorframe and lean in. I'm looking down at him, and boy does that rankle him even as it tickles me. He's big alright, but I'm bigger. Bigger and smarter and sober, and by the way his hackles raise, he fucking knows it. I flash my tusks, unable to help myself. Some unfamiliarly primal male part of me is beating its chest; he's not the top dog in this hallway, I fucking am.

"Want to get some damn sleep," I say, looking at the door and then back down at him. "Want you to leave her the hell alone. But more than that," I lean down until we're eye level, voice low. "I want you to scamper the fuck back to wherever you came from before I call animal control."

Fuck, what am I doing? Not exactly as non-confrontational as I'd hoped, but hell, at least I'm not pounding this fucker into dog food on her doorstep.

I can't.

I won't.

I… shouldn't.

Wolf steps closer, baring his teeth to retort, and then stops up short, sniffing the air between us, eyes flashing.

"No fucking way. You? You?"

Hot clouds of dog breath hit my face as he forces out a laugh, and I'm barely hanging on to my decision to keep my head about me, to keep my promise to myself and stay cool and not knock all his fucking teeth out, string ‘em around my neck like an old Orcish warchief defending his territory would have way back when.

"I was fucking right then. She's been fucking you?" One hairy-knuckled finger jabs my bare chest to punctuate his words. I look down at it and then back up at him, vision starting to blur and sharpen all at once, tusks bared in a snarl.

"You've got some fucking nerve talking like that smellin' the way you do, pup. Go back to whoever was yanking on your leash tonight, cause Orlagh sure ain't interested in your mangy ass anymore."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. And either she ain't in or you ain't welcome, Fido—I'm guessin' it's the latter."

Wolf makes his move, a sloppy uppercut I could see coming a mile away.

Fucking pathetic.

Faster than a polymorphed jackalope, I've got him restrained. That 7500-count stress ball is in his snapping maw, and I've got his arms twisted behind his back and him against the door before he knows up from down. He's screaming and flailing as I turn and drag him down the hall, trying to brace his feet on the floor and stop me up. I keep walking, fire moving me forward.Hell, I'm ready to toss him down the damn stairwell. Now that he's in my grasp, now that I've got him at my mercy? That primal male part of me is just about done holding back, been doing that for too damn long already. I may not know what the hell I am to Orlagh, what's going on in her head, but I know that she's something to me, something special, has been for some time. And I won't stand on the sidelines and let this cur roam around her unleashed any longer.

The elevator door opens before I reach the stairwell and there's Ulrich, night security. All sneers and long, pale limbs under a sheet of greasy black hair, but he's a mean motherfucker with a license to cast, and from the look on his face, he's not too happy.

"Well, well," he deadpans, tapping twitchy fingers all up his wand. "If it isn't Wolf. You aren't supposed to be here anymore, are you?"

I've still got the fucker's arms behind his back and he's still choking on my pillowcase, thrashing this way and that. The sound of his combat boots screeching against the floor while he struggles is like music to my fucking ears.

Ulrich drags his eyes from the belligerent mongrel and gives me a nod with what I assume is his best attempt at a smile. "I'll take it from here, Rok."

I let go, though for a moment I don't think I'm gonna. For a moment I think I'd rather risk an assault charge and throw him over the railing, let him sort it out with the gorse bushes. Luckily, I still know my own mind, or maybe Ulrich's presence just helps pull me out of it.

As soon as Wolf's free that dog turns around to take another sloppy swing, stopping short and glaring down the hall. I turn to see what's got his eye, and of course it's Orlagh, standing in front of her open door in a big fluffy lavender bathrobe, clutching a baseball bat, puffy eyes all red and watery.

Wolf takes off down the hall, and I take off after him. We haven't gone quite seven steps before there's a flash of blue light whizzing by my head that hits him square between the shoulder blades. His entire body freezes up, limbs locking together, eyes bulging out of his head. Orlagh gasps, dropping her bat to cover her mouth as he falls face first onto the concrete stretch of hallway between our doors.

Ulrich walks by me, flicking his wand once more, and then Wolf's floating in the air. He navigates the floating body to the open elevator, where he promptly drops it, a bored look on his bloodless, gaunt face. Hells, if I hadn't seen him walking around in broad daylight, I would swear that this security wizard was a bona fide vampire.

"Police are nearly here, but judging from the smell of him? They'll just drop him in the drunk tank until one of his pack pulls some strings." He sighs, giving Orlagh a pitying, pointed look. "Look, we've done this a few times, haven't we? We both know half of those cops are his wolves and won't keep their alpha caged for long. That he'll be back? I doubt he'll be back tonight, but, well, he will be back, eventually. And you know corporate doesn't give me the authority to do fuck-all unless I witness something myself."

She nods, and I'm pissed and ashamed all over again. How many times had she had this same conversation with Ulrich? How many times had that dog gotten away with treating her like dirt? How many times had I let him with my inaction?

Ulrich looks at Orlagh a long moment and then steps in front of her door with a sigh, pulling a second wand from his black duster and swishing it this way and that until her doormat is glowing red with runes. The light fades as he steps back, turning to face her.

"I couldn't do that when he lived here, wouldn't've worked, and, well, I'm not technically supposed to, but…" The security wizard pats her shoulder. "This will alert me if he comes back, so I don't have to wait for a call and I can try to catch him in the act, bypass the bureaucratic red tape. In the meantime, do you have someone to call, maybe somewhere to stay?"

Those big violet eyes turn toward me, lip trembling, and she don't even need to ask.