Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)

by Elsie Silver

With one hand still holding him, I point up to the sky. “That cloud looks like Cleocatra.” Rhys groans, but I detect humor in the sound. “And if you squint, that one looks like you petting her.” “Weird. Because I would never pet her.” I snort. Liar. “Plus, that strip of cloud is way too long to be my arm. It looks all stretched out.” “You’re right. Maybe that’s Terence petting Cleocatra.” His head snaps to the side, and our gazes collide. “Who?” “Stretch. From bowling.” Violence flashes in Rhys’s eyes, and it makes my stomach flip. That he goes from soft to feral so effortlessly shouldn’t be this exciting for me. But here I am. Lusting. Like the fucking mess I am. “If that guy pets my cat, I’ll tie a knot in his scrawny arm to match the one in his neck.” I grin. “Did you just say your cat?” Now I get an eye roll and a small head shake. “Whatever.”