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First, she'd gotten an eyeful of Drake’s admittedly impressive dick, and then he’d turned into an honest-to-god cougar. A cougar.
Well... yes. He IS a were-cougar.
There was no way Ashley and Miri were going to let her live it down if her first look at a dick in over a year made her hyperventilate.
“I’m fine,” she muttered. “He’s just a shifter… a naked, well-hung shifter. It’s still Drake.”
Hawthorne waved cheerfully and grabbed a flat of flowers from the back of his truck. "I got your order done early!" he called. And he'd brought it to her personally. The corner of her mouth curved. He was such a sweetheart…
If it sounded a little unhinged, he was polite enough not to mention it.
Drake darted around the side of the house, his clawed feet silent on the gravel. He padded up to them and brushed against her legs before his body started to shake and twist once more.
Drake raised his eyebrows at the fire burning her cheeks. The corner of his mouth curved up into a small smile, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Wes and Drake filed past her, their muscled arms overflowing with plants. Hawthorne hurried up and pressed a quick kiss against her cheek.
“Is this a monster thing, or are you two just overbearing in general?" she called at their backs. "Both," they said in unison.
Why did he have to have so many abs? And why did she so desperately wish she’d had a chance to reach out and run her fingers over them?
What if the yellow was too yellow and made Jasper and Atticus miss the sun? What if they looked at the red dress and decided to eat her for an appetizer?
It hadn’t been fair springing all those muscles on her like that and not even giving her ample time to admire. He was a sadist, clearly.
“But—” “You wanted to keep an eye on the house, so feel free to keep an eye on it.” She smiled brightly at him. “I never said I would be staying in.”
Two-hundred years old, and the fool still couldn’t control himself. If he ruined this for them, Atticus was going to stake the idiot out on the lawn for the sunrise to find.
