Page 60 of Forbidden Mischief
What does he expect? He has an amazing cock. One I love to have in my mouth.
But I agreed to leave, kissed him and was on my way.
Pulling into the grocery store, I park and head inside. Grabbing a cart, I start toward the dairy section but slow down, deciding to grab a few more things we might need.
I was thinking of asking Zayne if he wanted to have a stay at home date, watch a movie, snuggle on the couch and eat some junk.
Of course, he’s going to bitch about having to work hard to get the extra calories off, but he’s going to eat it anyway because the man loves his sweets. And me, I like hearing his groans of pleasure when he bites into a chocolate for the first time, or the smile on his face when he sees one of his favorite snacks.
One of the elderly cashiers greets me as I walk past her. I smile and give her a nod before continuing on with my shopping.
So much has changed since moving here. And all of it has been good.
I was apprehensive at first, not sure how the town would react to having a strange new wolf in their space. But it didn’t take me long to see that they are nothing like the town I grew up in.
The warlocks and the wolves might’ve been enemies once, long before my time—but around here, that history feels like a ghost. No tension. No sides. Just people—supernatural or not—finding ways to live together.
Dad is the problem in this situation, despite years of him trying to get it in my head, and everyone else in that pack, that wolves are superior.
It’s because of his ego and the need to be better than everyone else, the need to prove he’s bigger and badder than everyone that started it. Dexter said they hardly have any issues in town.
Reality is, magic is more powerful than the strength of a wolf. No matter how much my father doesn’t want to believe it.
They just chose not to flaunt what they have, to shove it in everyone's faces. Honestly, half the time I forget most of the people around me aren’t wolves. They are just enjoying their lives.
That's why seeing Zayne use that little spark of power is so hot.
It’s crazy to think that sweet, loving Dexter is really the most powerful warlock on this side of the country. You never could have guessed. And Zayne is set to be the same when he gets older.
My man is a badass. One day, I’d like to see what he can do. I’ve gotten a small glimpse and I already know he’s strong.
Once I’m done grabbing everything I need, and some that I want, I head to the front and check out.
With the bags in hand, I head out of the store. I’m on my way to the car, when I hear someone call out my name.
I pause, head whipping around, trying to see who’s speaking to me, senses on high alert. I’m still not familiar with many people around here, and everyone I do know is back at school working out. And the voice came from a man, so it’s not Prudence or Harley.
My name is called again, and this time I register the voice. I’d know that voice anywhere.
An uneasy feeling settles over me.
Turning my head, I stare over at the person I hate the most in this world. My father.
He’s parked a few spots over, leaning against the same shitty pickup truck he’s had for years. He loves that thing more than he ever loved me. That alone should have told me enough about what he was like. Who he was. But stupid me held out hope that he would see me one day, love me like a father would. It didn’t last long. The older I got, the more I saw that he was just an angry man who hated the world and loved to blame everyone else for his problems. I’d never be good enough for him. Sadly, it took me being gay and the cold dead look in his eyes when he found out for me to fully see it.
Jaw clenched, I fist my hands around the bags and head toward my car with the intent to ignore him.
He doesn’t like that. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me, boy!” he barks, loud enough to be heard across the parking lot.
I stop, not wanting him to cause a scene because knowing him he would. He shouldn’t even be here. Him stepping foot over the town line is breaking the rules Dexter set for him when he married Mom.
Taking a deep breath, I turn toward his direction and walk over to him. “What are you doing here?” I ask, stopping a few feet in front of him. I don’t want to look him in the eyes, seeing his face makes me want to shift and claw his eyes out. But if I don’t he’s going to think he has control over me, that the lack of eye contact would be in fear, not in repulsion.
“I heard you ran into some of the pack the other day.” His eyes harden as he glares at me. “They had some pretty interesting things to say.”
“I bet they did,” I mutter. “I don’t see how anything I do is of any concern to you, or anyone in the pack. I’m no longer a part of the pack. We left–”
“You are still my son,” he growls, nostrils flaring as fury masks his face, taking a step forward. “If you think I’d just letyou leave the pack, you're more stupid than I gave you credit for. You are blood. You will never be free of the pack.”
