“Check the site. They’re putting up the people who made the troop!” A deep, French-accented voice ordered. It was like a switch was flipped as Sunny turned from a limp and sexy, willing female to eyes of focused intensity.
“Holy fuck! I’m going! Wait I need a computer!“ Seeing her quick movement before it happened, Altan leaned back to allow the woman to leap onto her feet.
“Here use my phone, the password is 1999.” Altan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his smartphone. He’d have to get her one soon, two people couldn’t share a phone, it was dangerous for both of them. If Frederick found her while Jacy was using the phone it could be disastrous.
“Hey, that’s my birth year funny.” Sunny beamed at him and quickly typed in the numbers. Altan sat back and thought about what she said. He only chose that because that was the year his Desert Goddess first came to him. “Refresh damn it!“ Altan raised a brow and poked her thigh with his foot. She looked down at him. “Every six months the school picks out its dancers for the next performance and they just posted the list.” She explained, leaping up and down.
“Did you make it?” The voice spoke again. Who was he and why was he calling Sunny?
“Jean...” Her voice was thick as if the words were getting stuck in her throat. Altan touched her elbow, to offer comfort the way wolves do, through physical contact.
“It’s okay Sunny. I’ll fix it, don’t you worry...” Altan glared at the phone that dared to release this man’s sound, the fool dared to care for Altan’s mate?
“I made it with a pay raise.” Disbelief and hope was the only feeling in the room at her words. Altan stood up and went to stand as close as she would allow.
“What?”
“I got a 100 dollar pay raise.”
“Sunny that’s fantastic! Now you can quit that shitty job of yours!” The French man praised. Altan took the phone from Sunny’s limp grasp and slammed it shut, ignoring her small sounds of protest.
“You have a job while being a full-time student and a full-time dancer? How do you do it?”
Sunny laughed maniacally and let Altan see the full extent of her exhaustion. He got the distinct feeling she had never done that before. “I don’t!”
“Sunny have you ever had a day off? Gone on a shopping spree?” He asked. Her face was almost sad in its confusion. How poor was she?
“No? I don’t have time or money. The job is to pay for extra dance supplies and if I don’t dance I’m nothing, so I have the job and the school and my dance. I don’t need anything else.” Altan scoffed and threw his hands in the air. Allah this woman was infuriating.
“No.”
“No, what?“ She exclaimed, her eyes were like pools of fire.
“No more. No job, no bags under your eyes, no exhaustion, no more of this.” The wolf was speaking, eyes a molten gold. Sometimes even he forgot what was underneath his carefully crafted exterior. He was a beast used to being obeyed, used to being dominant. Never has a woman, or anyone, stood up to him this way.
“Altan, I’m not a child. I can handle a bit of sleepiness.” She was fuming too, all passion and spark. He wanted to drown in those eyes.
“When was the last time you slept a full night?” He asked, coming to stand to his full height, towering over her. When she stood her ground and kept her eyes locked on his, arousal blossomed within him. To stare into a wolf’s eyes was a threat, a dominance play. Most learn to look at the nose on downwards when meeting a new person, to prevent a fight.
However, Altan found that he was turned on by the little power games they played. Only his Sol could look at him in such away. It was different than how it was with his Hala, she was Omega, she did not feel the weight of his power. Sunny did and she ignored it.
“I don’t know, four weeks?” She shrugged and shook her head as if to clear it. Could the little kitten smell him? Good.
“Ya Allah, Sunny how long do you sleep at night?”
“On a good day, ‘bout three or four hours.”
“That’s ridiculous.“
“Once again I’m not a child.” She repeated, exasperation laced in every syllable.
“You are and I refuse to let this go on.”
“Altan, I’m poor. I can’t afford a shopping spree or whatever.”
“I can.” In hindsight, he should have seen this fight coming, but only in his mind, and maybe to Sunny if she ever accepted him, would he admit his fault.
“No, I’m not taking your money.”
“Yes, you will.” The tone he used would have made a lesser wolf shake in his boots, his dominance flooding over them, but Sunny stood her ground with her fire. Altan had never taken a woman into his bed who was not a warrior in their own right. Sunny Redfeather would be no exception.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Altan please, I’m not a charity case.” She ran her hand through her raven and rose hair in distress. He should stop this, let her have her way. He opened his mouth to say he was sorry but something else came out instead.
“I don’t do charity.” Which was true. A hundred years ago, maybe, not so much now, time and Emily had changed him. But she didn’t need to know that. He was digging his own grave and loved every minute of it.
“Really? Isn’t that one of the pillars of Islam?”
“What can I say, I’m a bad Muslim.” The depth was six feet now. Shut up, he screamed at his wolf, but it continued. Hell or high water was his mate going to be neglected.
“No, I’m going upstairs. “ Altan reached into his back pocket and shoved his wallet into her hand. She fumbled with it and caught it finally. With a glare to rival Rhys’ Berserker, she threw it back at him.
“Yes.” He growled, putting back into her hand.
“No!” She shouted, passing it back as if it burned her. This went on longer than the both of them were able to admit.
“Take the damn money, Sol!” He commanded. Well, this called for drastic measures.
“No, it’s not mine!” Altan shoved the wallet down Sunny’s pants and lifted her over his shoulder in one smooth motion. Sunny’s screech of a war cry made his ears bleed but he did not falter in his quest. He marched to the car, ignoring the hits against his back and kicks to his chest. Altan stumbled and took a knee when her determined toes hit his dick. He mumbled a curse in Turkish, only extreme pain could bring out his mother’s tongue from his lips, and stood once more.
“Put me down, you barbarian!” She yelled. Altan swatted her on her bum and smirked at the flare of lust her scent released. It was the smell of hot chile peppers. “Did… did you just swat me?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe you just spanked me.” Her voice lost its edge and was replaced with confusion.
“Believe it, Sol. If you continue to act like a child I shall spank you like one.”
“You said shall.” She giggled and let out a small gasp/moan when he spanked her again. “Stop that!”
“Are you sure, Little Kitten?” He purred, smirking at her stunned silence and threw her limp body into the back seat.
“Wait!”
“What?” He hovered in the open doorway, eyes locked on her spread eagle from, stuck in that position from surprise. His lips turned up slightly as he leaned in. “What do you wish for me to do, Little Kitten?” He cooed, hovering over her body, barely touching her but feeding Sunny’s his heat. He moved to straddled her slowly, knees supporting his weight awkwardly so not to crush her, as he whispered into her ear, lips trailing along her jaw.
“Anything you ask of me I will do. Me gustaría quemar el mundo si me preguntas.”
“I need my bag.” She stammered mouth parted with heavy breathing. Altan blew a breath of the shell of her ear and grinned against her flesh when she gasped.
“Why, I will pay for everything.” She shook her head, downy hair brushing his sensitive cheek. An explosion of rain and chile peppers, her lust, swarmed his nose. He could feel himself growing and shifted so she wouldn’t. She was not ready for that. Not yet at least, let her grow more comfortable with him first.
“It’s… not... Mo..ney it’s m...y in..hal..er.” She muttered. Her fingers are pure electricity as they skimmed his bearded cheek, brushing the scar that went from his left eyebrow to his cheekbone. A wound from centuries ago, a knife fight he won with only that as a mark. A silver blade wielded by an Air warden fae, the only one of his kind. Her slender fingers tangled themselves into his long black hair, tangled at his nape.
“How much do those cost?” He asked, tongue flicking out to taste the sweet desire of her neck, the pulse jumping under the skin. He moved up to nibbled one of her many piercings. She had ten silver ornaments in her left ear, it burned his lips as he grazed it. Altan let out a hiss of pain and went back to the neck. She’d have to have those replaced. Soon.
“Between thirty and sixty dollars. Why?” Her breath was coming out in pants as his hand roamed her figure. She was all muscle and bones, a lifetime of vigorous dancing leaving a mark on her.
“It would be safer for you if I carried one as well, so things like this don’t happen, Mi Soleado.” With one long tongue stroke, she came undone.
“You don’t have to do that.” She panted, eyes a bright gold, Altan could only imagine what he looked like. He pressed himself, erection and all, down on her.
“Yes. Yes, I do Sháńdíín.”
“Thank you.” And he could tell she meant it.
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