Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

He wanted to understand Jag’s perspective and be open to maybe starting a relationship in the future, but the expectations shoved in front of him were insane. “I’ve known you for three weeks, and you’ve kept me chained up for most of that time. How can you seriously expect me to make life-changing decisions after such a short time! So you’re attractive, and I like spending time with you, but I also have obligations. Hold your horses and try to look at things from where I stand!”

Jag screamed out, pressing his hand to the dried blood on his hospital gown. “So go! Leave me the fuck alone!” He grabbed a red sneaker off the mattress and threw it at Dane. “When you feel something, you feel it, and you don’t need to pick it apart in your head. I knew what I wanted from the start and did everything I could to make it work. Love isn’t about logic, you can’t contain it in a box, or dissect it like a frog! But you wouldn't know that, because you don’t know what that word means.”

It felt like a slap, and Dane leaned back, holding on to the door frame as waves of anger and hurt stormed through his body. “No, you fucker! Love is about caring for the other person’s needs, not just wanting to take over and enforce your will! And you never cared for what I wanted, because you think you know better! Your love is wanting to keep me as your fuck pet!”

Jag glared at him, baring his teeth, but then laid on the bed and hid under a navy blanket that featured many pale stains.

Dane hissed. If Jag still refused to take responsibility for his actions, then Dane was done as well. He slammed the door shut and stomped back to the kitchen with a storm raging deep in his chest.

How dare Jag school him about relationships when this was his first one ever? Having intense feelings he couldn’t leash didn’t give him the right to judge other people’s emotions, especially when his mate almost lost his life the last time he’d thrown caution to the wind.

Dane’s heart rattled so fast it was giving him a headrush, and he staggered by the table, sliding to a vacant chair. It didn’t matter that all Dane wanted was to cuddle up to Jag’s back and nuzzle his nape as they pretended they were too primal for language and communicated in grunts. There was no place for that in the world he lived in, and he couldn’t turn his back on real life just because a man made him feel so many unexpected things.

With an angry huff, he stood and opened the cupboard, to face a collection of mismatched mugs. Some of them were chipped, others lacked handles, but he eventually chose one with the picture of a lioness in the savanna, tossed in a teabag, and filled it with the water Frank had boiled.

His gaze wandered to the other end of the house, where he’d left Jag, but the bastard didn’t deserve a hot beverage for the way he’d been acting. Dane would have gladly given him a chance and maybe come over once a week so they could get to know each other better on neutral ground, but he wouldn’t give into this nonsense. And if Jag couldn’t accept compromise, then their short relationship was over.

When thunder growled outside in a promise of another summer storm, his brain short-circuited with a vision of Jag fucking him on the furs. Back in the truck hideout somewhere in the junkyard, they’d been two bodies focused on pleasure, free from the demands of the world and any distractions. It had been a beautiful night Dane would never forget.

“Jag?” Frank yelled, entering the house so abruptly Dane spilled some of his tea.

“He’s in bed,” he muttered, opening his thighs wide under the table because the brief fantasy had stirred his cock to life all too fast.

Frank dashed into the dark room, only to return with fiery glares. “You were supposed to watch over him! I knew something was off when I saw Dex’s window open. He’s gone.”

Chapter 18 – Dane

Dane’s stomach filled with icy stones, and he held on to the edge of the table to steady himself. “What do you mean he’s gone? He’s too weak to move around!”

“Clearly wasn’t too weak to climb out the window. He left behind the hospital gown, so I’m guessing he took some of Dex’s clothes.” Frank sighed, stepping out of the room where Jag had been just a moment ago. “He has first aid training. It’s fine.”

Dane rose so fast some of the tea spilled onto the table. “So what now?”

Frank shook his head and approached the pot. “There’s no point reasoning with him when he’s like this. Let him lick his wounds.”