Striped by Abigail Barnette Page B

of.”
    “Warren, right?” Mitchell asked, and then corrected himself, “No, Sean. Warren is the last name.”
    “Yeah, him. I talked to him. Told him to go to the state forest and stay hidden if he wanted to chase prey.” Jason smiled in spite of himself. “I used Gia’s rabbit as bait.”
    “Mr. Bunnykins?”
    They laughed, and Mitchell reached for the radio dials.
    What Jason didn’t tell him, though he was eaten up with guilt, was that ever since meeting Sean, the tiger was all Jason could think about. He’d gone home that night with the best of intentions, to watch a little internet porn and take care of business to the nameless guys he would never meet. Instead, his brain had been filled with pornographic images of his own making, of sinking his hands into dark hair and digging his fingers into taut, tattooed buttocks. He’d jerked off at least once a day since then, and every time to fantasies of dominating the younger shifter.
    Though Mitchell had always been very open about his own fantasies regarding other men, and they’d long ago come to an understanding that a harmless daydream wasn’t cheating and was perfectly natural, something held Jason back from mentioning his thoughts about Sean. That worried him even more.
    The ride home was easy, with little traffic, and it afforded them plenty of time to enjoy the beautiful scenery of Northern Michigan. It also afforded them plenty of time to fall back into domesticity. Mitchell was the kind of man who was easy to be with. Jason would never do anything to put their relationship into jeopardy. He loved Mitchell too much. But he couldn’t get the new tiger out of his mind.
    Give me the strength to be a man, and not a complete idiot , he silently prayed as Mitchell put his hand affectionately on his knee.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
    Jason was hiding something.
    Mitchell sat at the kitchen island, finishing his beer and watching as Jason loaded their dinner plates into the dishwasher.
    Uncharacteristically chatty, Jason had gone on nonstop about all the episodes of reality television Mitchell had missed during his trip. “So, Montana told him that she was going to NYU in the fall, with or without him, and taking the baby.”
    “We do have a DVR, you know,” Mitchell observed placidly. Before Jason could question him, his cell vibrated. He glanced down and frowned. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s Miguel Paz.”
    “Why would he call so late?” Jason wiped his hands on a dishtowel and leaned over the island, not to listen in, but to watch Mitchell’s face. It was something he always did, staying on the periphery of community business, always supportive, but with Mitchell’s well-being always his number one priority. It used to drive Mitchell crazy; he couldn’t see why the sanctuary wasn’t more important to Jason, why he let Mitchell make all the decisions when it was both their money and their lives invested. It had taken time, but he’d realized that while he was running around, finding new tenants and overseeing construction, Jason was taking care of Mitchell. It was hard to be resentful of someone who had the good sense to make sure you made doctor appointments and actually stopped working to eat some of the time.
    “Miguel, talk to me,” he said, taking another swig of beer.
    “I’ll talk to you all right.” Miguel Paz barely raised his voice to tell the punch line of a joke in a loud room, but he was practically shouting. Mitchell noticed Jason’s eyebrow shoot up; the conversation was clear over the tiny speakers, filling the kitchen. Miguel stormed on, “That fucking tiger—no offense—chased Delilah all the way from our property line, clear down to the main road. I thought you were supposed to do something about this.”
    “Jason talked to him.” Mitchell hoped Jason knew he wasn’t throwing him under the bus, but he didn’t want to lie to Miguel, either, and pretend to have everything in hand.
    “Maybe he thought