Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2) - Page 21

Did Dane hear that right? This wild man from the junkyard wanted him to sit around, look pretty, and do nothing else all day until he healed enough for sex?

What?

What?

“I don’t understand. How do you imagine I spend my time here?”

Jag licked his lips and frowned. “We’ll work it out as you get accustomed to your new home. My father had two wives, but all I want is one mate to share my life with. I will provide anything you need and make you happy. When you get better, maybe you can give back by helping me around our home? I wasn’t expecting a mate so soon, so it’s not as big as I’d like it to be for the two of us.”

Dane couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but the man who called himself Jaguar seemed to think he was being reasonable.

“Your father had two wives? What? And also…” Dane’s chest burned as a flush trailed from his heart, up to his neck and face. “You know I’m not the kind of mate you can make children with, right?”

There. Maybe he’d be set free after all.

Jag toyed with a slice of cheese. “I know, but I can’t mate with a woman. I had to leave my family because of that. You can’t fight nature, so maybe I won’t have children, but it’s only natural for a male to have urges and satisfy them.”

Dane stalled, overcome by a flood of sympathy that this guy did not deserve. Jag had abducted him, molested him, and declared that he wanted to keep him like some kind of pet that he’d also fuck. Fucking great.

But it was also clear that in his deranged brain, Jag’s actions were not only not wrong but also somehow… perfectly reasonable. He was ready to take on the role of the provider and protector, he didn’t force Dane into sex, just because he was horny, and instead attempted to woo him in his own caveman way. He wanted a mate and had the means to take one. Many societies and religious groups, including Jag’s own, saw his desires for men as abnormal, but what was more natural than the desire for companionship and fulfilment?

In a primitive society, he’d have been a catch.

But this was the twenty-first century, and Dane had obligations of his own, no matter how much he wanted to roll over and feel the girth of Jag’s cock deep inside him.

“And… was your family big?” Dane asked, hoping to get some more insight and pull on Jag’s tattered heartstrings one day if he needed to. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed the T-shirt and sweatpants Jag had brought him. Accepting the gifts would make his host happy, and what Dane needed was to be back on Jag’s good side.

“Seven brothers,” Jag said, ripping the slice of cheese in two. He did steal a glance at Dane getting dressed but wasn’t too obvious about it. “It doesn’t matter now. I found my own way. That’s what life is. You fight or you die.”

“Big family. Just like mine. I’m the oldest,” Dane said, covering himself with soft cotton that smelled of washing powder and magnolia, not… whatever he’d expected it to smell like. Did this guy have a washing machine somewhere?

Jag chewed on Dane’s words for a while. “Maybe we’ll visit them one day. Once you’re accustomed to your new home.”

Yes. They were getting somewhere!

Excitement jutted from deep in Dane’s chest and made him smile. “My siblings are outdoorsy too. I bet you could teach them a thing or two about surviving in the wild,” he said, pushing the compliments but not his luck.

Jag glanced up at him with a hint of smile. “Who knows? Maybe by the time they visit, you’ll be able to show them our new den.”

“Oh, you plan on building more rooms? Are you saying you did all this yourself?” Dane asked, picking up on Jag’s pride. The faster he got the guy to trust him, the quicker he might reconnect with his family. And at this point, it was clear how many holes his previous plan had.

“I was hoping we could do that together. But if you’re hurt too badly, you can just keep me company.” Jag inched a bit closer on the fur with his eyes as hopeful for affection as Dane’s heart was for leaving this hellhole.

But pacing himself was the key to Dane’s new plan, so he offered Jag a soft smile and, overcoming his fear, stroked his forearm.

It was thick, and while not bulging with muscle like those of body builders, the strength hidden under hairy skin made Dane’s heart skip a beat. “I never built anything. You’d have to teach me,” he said, meeting Jag’s gaze. He had the most incredible golden-green eyes, like a wild cat enjoying a lazy day in the sun.

Tags: K.A. Merikan Wrong Side of the Tracks M-M Romance
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