at home now. They probably just got a little exhibitionist.”
“Okay, let me just try on one more.”
“Skylar…”
“I’m already halfway to putting it on,” his mate argued.
He never should have agreed to this. It was his own fault for bringing up the fact there was a new designer store opening not far outside pack lands. He’d shot himself in the foot there.
But seeing Skylar’s face light up at the thought of yet more clothes to touch and feel was worth some suffering. He just wasn’t sure if it was worth this much. He’d lost the bet fair and square. Skylar had bargained that if Remy could stand an hour’s torture without coming then they could install a pole in their room and Skylar would give him all the private dances he wanted for a whole month. Stupidly he’d scoffed when his mate had stipulated that if he lost, Remy would have to take him shopping.
Needless to say, Remy had lost—a few times actually.
He grinned as he remembered that night and couldn’t even find any disappointment in the defeat. Glancing over at the full rack of clothes Skylar had already marked to buy, he was thankful he had secured a lucrative contract for another action film series that wanted top of the line kitted-out street race cars. He was in no danger of going broke even without that, but he had every intention of losing a few more bets, so it was nice to have a safety net.
Skylar didn’t need Remy to buy him things—his mate had a fortune of his own. However, the alpha wolf in him liked to provide for his mate and his pack.
This alpha thing might still be fairly new to him, but Skylar helped him every step of the way. Because they fit. They were mates, and Skylar belonged to him as much as he belonged to Skylar. It was as simple as that. His wolf grunted in agreement, lying lazily close to the surface of his mind.
A strangle groan came from Skylar’s dressing room and he whipped his head around just in time to see the wooden door smash off its hinges, sending splinters of dark stained wood flying everywhere.
“Skylar!”
The sound of footsteps racing in their direction stopped him from going straight to his mate and instead had him running in the opposite direction. He pulled the door open just in time to see the middle-aged man and young woman from earlier about to reach for the handle to enter.
“Sir! What on earth is going on in there?”
A weight slammed into his back, knocking off balance enough that he almost shut the door in their alarmed faces. “Sorry, hand slipped on the handle,” he said, pulling the door open again and giving them what he hoped was a calm, charming smile.
Skylar hissed behind him, ripping the back off his pants clean off. The cool air made him clench his ass cheeks and his smile slipped. He quickly pasted it back on, forcing a small laugh.
The storeowner and assistant shared a dubious look and he knew he was minutes away from having to deal with a call to the police.
“What can I say, he’s really passionate about clothes.” He braced his legs apart to keep the front of his pants from falling down and snatched his wallet out of his pocket, flipping it open and snagging his credit card. “We’re buying everything in the store today.”
Instantly their demeanour changed as the credit card was waved in front of them. As new customers, Remy had already been checked out and his limit or lack thereof confirmed, so they knew he was as good at his word. He handed the piece of plastic over and stared the owner down. The older man flicked a glance from him to the card he now held and Remy smirked. The alarm on the man’s face cleared and greed took its place.
Remy smothered the moan building in his throat when Skylar ripped his shirt the same way as his pants and kissed his shoulder. His mate started making his way down his back, licking the dents at the base of his spine.
“Do we have an understanding?”
“Certainly, sir. We’ll leave you to…continue trying on the
“Okay, let me just try on one more.”
“Skylar…”
“I’m already halfway to putting it on,” his mate argued.
He never should have agreed to this. It was his own fault for bringing up the fact there was a new designer store opening not far outside pack lands. He’d shot himself in the foot there.
But seeing Skylar’s face light up at the thought of yet more clothes to touch and feel was worth some suffering. He just wasn’t sure if it was worth this much. He’d lost the bet fair and square. Skylar had bargained that if Remy could stand an hour’s torture without coming then they could install a pole in their room and Skylar would give him all the private dances he wanted for a whole month. Stupidly he’d scoffed when his mate had stipulated that if he lost, Remy would have to take him shopping.
Needless to say, Remy had lost—a few times actually.
He grinned as he remembered that night and couldn’t even find any disappointment in the defeat. Glancing over at the full rack of clothes Skylar had already marked to buy, he was thankful he had secured a lucrative contract for another action film series that wanted top of the line kitted-out street race cars. He was in no danger of going broke even without that, but he had every intention of losing a few more bets, so it was nice to have a safety net.
Skylar didn’t need Remy to buy him things—his mate had a fortune of his own. However, the alpha wolf in him liked to provide for his mate and his pack.
This alpha thing might still be fairly new to him, but Skylar helped him every step of the way. Because they fit. They were mates, and Skylar belonged to him as much as he belonged to Skylar. It was as simple as that. His wolf grunted in agreement, lying lazily close to the surface of his mind.
A strangle groan came from Skylar’s dressing room and he whipped his head around just in time to see the wooden door smash off its hinges, sending splinters of dark stained wood flying everywhere.
“Skylar!”
The sound of footsteps racing in their direction stopped him from going straight to his mate and instead had him running in the opposite direction. He pulled the door open just in time to see the middle-aged man and young woman from earlier about to reach for the handle to enter.
“Sir! What on earth is going on in there?”
A weight slammed into his back, knocking off balance enough that he almost shut the door in their alarmed faces. “Sorry, hand slipped on the handle,” he said, pulling the door open again and giving them what he hoped was a calm, charming smile.
Skylar hissed behind him, ripping the back off his pants clean off. The cool air made him clench his ass cheeks and his smile slipped. He quickly pasted it back on, forcing a small laugh.
The storeowner and assistant shared a dubious look and he knew he was minutes away from having to deal with a call to the police.
“What can I say, he’s really passionate about clothes.” He braced his legs apart to keep the front of his pants from falling down and snatched his wallet out of his pocket, flipping it open and snagging his credit card. “We’re buying everything in the store today.”
Instantly their demeanour changed as the credit card was waved in front of them. As new customers, Remy had already been checked out and his limit or lack thereof confirmed, so they knew he was as good at his word. He handed the piece of plastic over and stared the owner down. The older man flicked a glance from him to the card he now held and Remy smirked. The alarm on the man’s face cleared and greed took its place.
Remy smothered the moan building in his throat when Skylar ripped his shirt the same way as his pants and kissed his shoulder. His mate started making his way down his back, licking the dents at the base of his spine.
“Do we have an understanding?”
“Certainly, sir. We’ll leave you to…continue trying on the
Similar Books
