Jacob rolled his eyes. He heard Wolfe growl in exasperation.
“Leave it be, Wolfe,” Jacob advised him. “It’s not worth the fight. And I won’t see Faith upset in this manner. “
“So I need you to fight my battles?” she asked him, furious, her face flushed, her br**sts heaving beneath her T-shirt. No bra. Damn her, and her ni**les were hard too.
On the other end, Hope was raging as well; evidently unaware of what Wolfe had been doing until the last moment. He wanted to feel sorry for his Pack Leader, but in this case, Wolfe had brought it on himself. Besides, it appeared he had his own furious female to deal with at this point.
“Leave the apartment, Wolfe. Faith can decide for herself what to do with it. And who to f**k, I believe?” He was asking her more than he was Wolfe.
“You’re a brave man,” Wolfe sighed. “I thought only to make it easier. She seemed pretty angry with you. I thought perhaps if I made it an order—” He could hear Wolfe’s shrug in his voice. Then Hope’s sarcastic comment behind it. This didn’t seem to be the week for mate pleasing. Jacob wondered if it was a mood phase, or some strange PMS.
“Like I need you to tell him that,” Faith snorted. “Who went and made you Sir Galahad, ass**le? I haven’t needed you in six years, and I’ll be damned if I need you now. And give me my friggin’ phone back.” It was jerked out of his hand before he could do more than grunt at her sarcastic comments.
* * * * *
Faith swore she was going to kill Jacob and Wolfe. Damned men. First her Pack leader has the nerve, the unutterable nerve, to order her to f**k Jacob, then he threatens her apartment. Her beautiful, bright home, where all her treasures were stored. Where her vibrators rested on velvet, her coffee grinder ground her coffee beans to perfection, and her refrigerator, the modern dream that it was, reminded her when her stash of beer and cola was getting low. Love his heart, she was going to cut it out.
“Dearest Wolfe?” Her voice was sweet as sugar, but there was murder in her heart. “May I please speak to Hope? Woman stuff, ya know?”
Wolfe hesitated. “Faith, I will leave things as they are for now. There is no sense in angering Hope further.”
“Why would I do this to my Pack Leader?” She wanted to sneer but confined the baring of her teeth to Jacob instead as she met his amused gaze. Damned men. Overbearing jackasses.
Wolfe sighed.
“Faith?” Hope’s voice was furious.
Faith turned from Jacob, her body shaking with anger, with hurt. She had thought that Wolfe understood all the years she had suffered. Thought he knew the hell she had experienced living without Jacob.
“He ordered me to f**k Jacob, Hope,” she growled, keeping her voice low, her pain hidden from everyone but the woman who, during late night phone conversations, had kept her sane in the past months. “Ordered me to let another have my home. Do not let him take my home, Hope.” It was all she had that was hers and hers alone. Every inch of it, decorated to suit her taste, lovingly cleaned and cared for by her alone.
“Don’t worry, Faith.” Hope’s voice was trembling in fury as well. “Take care of yourself, and your own needs. I’ll take care of my mate.” The determined anger in Hope’s voice eased the knot of fear that had been steadily growing in Faith since Wolfe had begun his little private discussion with her. She took a deep, calming breath.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome, Faith. I’ll talk to you later. I have a mate to deal with at present.”
The phone disconnected. Faith stood silently, her back to Jacob, fighting the well of fury and hurt that continued to grow in her.
“Since when did you decide to become my protector?” she asked him, fighting not to scream, to keep her voice calm, even, despite the tremble in it.
She clipped the phone back in its small holder on her belt, then turned to face him, her fists clenched to keep from smacking the bemused expression from his face.
“He was wrong.” Jacob shrugged. “I was merely trying to help, Faith.”
“I do not need your help.” She fought to breathe normally, to still the hard, furious beat of her heart. “I have not needed you in six years, and despite Wolfe’s belief to the contrary, I do not need you now.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her in lofty amusement, his lips curling into that little half smile of superiority that she so hated.
“Your body does,” he said with such confidence that she was grinding her teeth together in fury. “But, I don’t believe Wolfe has the right to order you to my bed. I want you there because you cannot deny me, not because you are ordered.”
Her eyes widened.
“You think I cannot deny you?” She bit out, so furious, so enraged with his patient amusement with her that it was all she could do not to attack him. “You think f**king me is a done deal?”
He chuckled. Bastard. He was laughing at her. “My dearest mate, I have no doubt it is. But it always has been. You’re a big girl now, I think you can take me.”
Shocked fury filled her system. He stood so tall, so confident before her. As though he knew the ways of all things, supreme in his own knowledge. She wished she could refute his claim, but knew she would choke on such a lie.
“As I remember it, I had no problem taking you before,” she reminded him, feeling the need for violence rising strong and steady inside her. “I think your done deal is more like an itch that needs scratched in your case,” she sneered. “What, miss out on your weekly piece last night?”
His eyes narrowed on her. The amusement in his expression dropping by several degrees.
“You’ve developed a smart mouth, Faith, it could get you into trouble,” he warned her, his voice low, irritated.
“And you’ve developed a domineering attitude that could land you on your ass,” Faith assured him furiously. “Stay out of my business, Jacob.”
Enough of this! Hard-headed damned man, there would be no way to make him see sense, to make him understand that she didn’t need him to pave her way with Wolfe. And she didn’t need Wolfe ordering her to f**k her mate. Damn him. Damn Jacob. What gave either of them the right to suddenly decide they knew better than her, after six years?
“You are my business,” he growled, his voice rife with irritation as he faced her, his own anger growing.