Page 15 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

“Stuffy,” I added. “Booner.”

“You’ve been researching online, haven’t you?”

I grunted. We weren’t sophisticated orcs, but my brothers and I were learning quickly. “I didn’t actually study the terms, but one of my brothers mentioned them one night when we sat together in the saloon, enjoying a beverage called beer.”

“Beer,” she said.

“We sampled it for the first time to see what it tasted like. We were told to order lots of it for the saloon, and we did. It tasted so good, we each had five glasses.”

“Five?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I bet you were feeling that in the morning.”

“Such a headache.” I rubbed my temple and scowled. “We haven’t drunk any since.”

“I can see why,” she said with a bright laugh. “You know, this is social media gold. Not the headache but maybe you and your brothers bellying up to the bar, each holding a mug full of frothy beer.”

“No more beer.”

“You wouldn’t have to drink it.”

Did she really think viewers would be interested in something like that? I told myself when I hired her that I’d let her figure this out. And I promised myself I would make sure she never discovered the mess I’d made before I hired her.

“I’m not getting a woody or a stuffy or a booner,” I said, resisting the urge to thrust it up against her.

“If you say so.” She climbed off me and stood, looking down at me.

Sharga took that opportunity to fly across the room and land on my chest. He plucked his way around, meowing.

“That’s a funny bird,” she said. “I didn’t know they could meow.”

“Ravens can mimic others. He’s trying to sound like Podar, my bobcat.”

I sat up and willed my cock to lie along my thigh, though it resisted. Sharga scrambled up to perch on my shoulder.

“Do you need to go take care of it?” she asked, gaping at my cock poking away at my pants.

“What should I take care of?” I asked, rising to my feet.

“Your cock’s gouging the front of your jeans. I was just suggesting you might want to… relieve the pressure.”

Sharga meowed from my shoulder as if he agreed. Silly raven.

“We must ignore my cock for now,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “Sure. I can do that. Tell me about your bobcat.”

“I found Podar with his leg in a trap. His leg had to be removed, but he does well. He likes living with me, as does Sharga.”

“Was Sharga also wounded?”

“His wing was broken.”

“And you nursed them both back to health.”

“I love my friends.”

“That’s incredibly sweet. Such an awesome thing to do for wounded wild creatures.”

My chest knocked against itself like something trapped inside wanted out. People didn’t usually say things like that to me. Her words left a splinter under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

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