No Way (Claws Clause 1.75)

“Um. Okay. If you change your mind—”

“I won’t. Thanks.”

She nodded.

Colt ripped his unblinking gaze from the concern splayed across her pretty face. Okay. He knew what he needed to do now.

He needed to escape.

He was like a cornered animal, too reckless, too dangerous, and way too unpredictable. Despite his shock at his discovery, Colt already felt his protective instincts stirring. He couldn’t risk lashing out at her. He couldn’t risk hurting her, or letting her experience his pain, either.

Time to get the hell out of there.

Mumbling an apology, forcing his baying wolf back again as his beast realized he was moving away from her instead of closer, Colt bolted to the door. His broken ankle was screaming, but he’d had worse injuries over the years. So maybe the break was still fresh. Tough shit. He had to get away from her.

His shaky claw-tipped hand closed on the door handle as she called from behind him.

“Hey!”

His body jerked, head snapping to look over his shoulder at her. “Yeah?”

She swallowed noticeably. “I haven’t paid for the dresser yet.”

“I’ll bill you,” Colt grumbled, then immediately fled the shop.

It was the first time in his life he had ever run from a confrontation.

3

Pacing.

Pacing was good.

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Not as good as running, of course, but with his broken ankle, he didn’t want to put his wolf through running flat-out on three paws instead of four.

Three hours. It had been three hours since he tore out of Grayson like the tip of his tail was on fire. Three hours and he didn’t know what ached worse: his cock or his broken ankle. Both of them throbbed, and while he wasn’t sure what to do about one, the other should’ve been fixed by now.

He’d lost track of how many bones he’d broken over the years. He’d been a rambunctious pup with a propensity to challenge his older brother. Of course, he realized now that Maddox’s wolf could have torn his throat out fairly easily, but his brother never let it get farther than a couple of fractures here or a swipe of his claws there. When their regenerative properties meant that any damage was healed within minutes, it was fine.

Only it had been three hours and Colt’s ankle had barely begun to knit itself back together.

It was hell driving the delivery van back to his house. Thank Alpha, it was his left ankle that broke since he didn’t need it to operate the vehicle. It still fucking hurt. Not only that, but his whole left leg felt like it was on fire as his body tried to fix itself—and couldn’t.

And then there was his poor cock…

Because he’d spent his entire life deluding himself that he would never get stuck with a mate, he never wondered what it would be like to have an erection. He knew the basics of mating—his father made sure both his boys did—and he totally understood the whole ‘tab a goes in slot b’ thing.

So, yeah, a hard cock was essential when it came to mating. But did it have to feel so heavy, so achy, so sensitive?

As if it could hear his thoughts, the damn thing pulsed against the confines of his jeans. Since actually mating the human was out of the question, Colt wondered if he should just take himself in hand, rub one out for the first time, and hope that, now that he’d put some distance between his body and Shea’s, his cock would behave.

One problem with that. While he was still waiting to hear from Maddox, that didn’t mean that his house was empty when he finally made it back to his territory. Instead of haunting his own place along Cemetery Row, Colt’s best friend was hovering in Colt’s living room, using his poltergeist powers to turn on the television so he could watch his shows.

Like everything else when it came to Dodge, Colt just let it go. The phantom liked early morning game shows? Sure. Why not?

Hey. He was stuck with the guy regardless. He’d given up thinking otherwise a long time ago.