Sold AS The alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 953: Chapter 10 : What's Mine

*Lucas*

I stood outside of Nostalgia, just outside Sasha's view. Donovan kept his arm securely around her shoulders and plied her with drinks. She was madder than a wet cat, and kept drinking, more than I was comfortable with.

But then, I'd been nearly plastered by the time I'd gone to the bar. The only reason I left home at all was because Brady, the asshole, finally hid the booze.

Donovan. If he hadn't inserted himself into our little world, I might have Sasha beneath me right now, I thought, palming her luscious breasts while exploring her sweet mouth with my tongue. Then I'd have gone lower, and lower still, until she begged for it. And being the gentleman I was, I would have given it to her, long into the night.

I shook my head to clear it of those thoughts. Just as I did, I met Donovan's eyes through the paned glass.

He smirked at me and kissed Sasha's temple.

I wanted to throw him through the glass, then rip him apart with my bare hands. I wanted to f**k him up. I wanted to f**k him up bad.

I wanted to kill him.

I pictured a dozen scenarios.

Then Donovan excused himself, finally taking his hand off Sasha, and headed for the bathrooms.

I considered going back inside and just claiming what was mine; having her for those brief moments soothed my wolf and calmed my rage. But while I was still contemplating the pros and cons, Donovan himself came around the side of the building. He must have used the service exit.

“Problem?" I growled, trying not to picture his lips brushing against my sweet Sasha's temple.

Donovan folded his arms, trying to look all big and bad. But I had at least two inches and forty pounds of muscle on him, so I just flicked my eyes over him in disdain.

“Look, if you're not going to make your move," Donovan said, “you need to step off. Some of the rest of us aren't all twisted up about what we want."

My eye twitched. “'We'?"

“It's just an expression. Look, Lucas, buddy, you have to either go in there and snatch her up, or man up and let her go. I've been working on that girl going on three years now. She's just about in the bag. I don't know how you got an in with her, but it's not fair to the rest of us for you to go toying with her emotions. Makes it real hard to get her in the sack, if you know what I mean," Donovan griped.

Yeah, I really was going to kill him. “You just want to get her in the sack, is that what you're telling me right now?"

Donovan shrugged. “I mean, it's a good start. I really like this girl, and I think we'd have a lot of fun rolling around in the hay. If it goes deeper than that, you know, great. If we have some fun and go back to being friends, that's fine, too. You are way too intense, man."

“I see," I seethed.

“Look, I understand if you need to get in and out and on with your life. Scratch that itch or whatever. But after that, I'd appreciate it if you'd disappear. I've got plans for this girl—“

I grabbed Donovan by the throat. “That girl's name is Sasha, and she deserves better than an asshole like you pawing her over."

Donovan coughed, grabbing my wrist. “Dude," he choked out, “let go!"

Instead of letting go, I dragged Donovan by the throat right up into my face.


“If you so much as breathe on her, I swear by the White Queen's mercy, I will tear you apart. Got it?"

Donovan managed a nod, and I let him go. “Jeez, if I knew she was that important to you—“

“You're going to go in there, make your excuses, and leave. and I'm going to watch you all the f*****g way, from Sasha to taxi. Do I make myself clear?"

“Crystal." Donovan dusted invisible wrinkles out of his clothes and headed back the way he came.

Ten minutes later, the bastard was in a cab, cruising back to whatever hole he crawled out of.

I still couldn't seem to peel myself away from the wall until Sasha left her barstool and rejoined her flamboyant, but capable friend Amanda. Even if Sasha got totally sloshed, I knew Amanda would get her home.

It was time for me to head that direction as well. I walked around the block to where Ian was lounging against my car, reading a newspaper.

“Let's go," I said gruffly, and Ian quickly tossed the paper in the car, understanding I wasn't in the mood for any of his shenanigans.

He opened the back passenger door and I flopped into the soft leather, letting the cool of it clear my head.

I was stone sober and in one hell of a predicament.

I still wanted Sasha Wentley.

***

“You look less plowed than I thought you'd be," Brady said when I walked in the door.

“Sasha Wentley was at the bar," I replied without preamble, going to the fridge and pulling out the orange juice.

“Mimosas or screwdrivers?" Brady asked, turning in his chair.

It was then that I saw behind him a shifter I'd never seen before. She was plump with brown bouncy curls and lips that no doubt usually carried an infectious smile.

Now, she was just concerned. “The work-study intern?" she asked with keen interet.

I scowled at Brady while I poured myself a tall glass of juice.

“Sorry. Lucas, this is Phoebe. Phoebe, this is Lucas," Brady said.

Phoebe stood, wearing one of Brady's robes, and came to shake my hand. “I'm so pleased to meet you. Brady's told me so much about you."

“Clearly," I grumped.

Phoebe blushed and Brady waved her back over to the table.

“Take a seat," he said. “Lay down your troubles."

“In front of Phoebe," I muttered, though I did take a seat just the same, gulping orange juice to chase the last of the alcohol away.

“Yeah, in front of Phoebe. She's my fiancée." Brady grinned at me and Phoebe held out her hand to reveal a ring with a diamond the size of a small asteroid.

I whistled. “Wow. When did all this happen?"

“Took her to dinner last night and popped the question. She said yes. I am a very lucky bastard." Brady gave Phoebe a besotted smile.

Phoebe giggled.

Come to think of it, I'd been so wrapped up in the library project, I hadn't been keeping track of Brady's private life. “Congratulations," I said, raising my orange juice to them.

“Thanks," Brady replied. “Can't wait for the two of you to get to know each other better. Now, you don't have to say yes, because I can get my own house, but I was wondering if you'd mind if Phoebe lived here, now that we're engaged."

I chuckled at their hopeful expressions."Absolutely. I'd miss having your sorry around, and I should get to know your girl better."

“I cook!" Phoebe said, her smile indeed infectious.

“That's great," I replied. “Can't wait to see what you come up with."

Phoebe beamed while Brady speared me with a look. “Speaking of girls...."

I groaned and pulled my hand over my face. “Sasha f*****g Wentley."

“Why do you say it that way?" Phoebe asked. “I had a composition class with her at the university. She's a really nice gal."

“You go to school with her?" I asked, ignoring her rebuff.

Phoebe nodded. “I mean, we're in completely different majors, but we both had to take our generals and we ended up in class together."

“You ever take a class with a guy named Donovan?" I pressed, still picturing that bastard laying a kiss on Sasha's temple.

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