Bro and the Beast (The Wolf's Mate, #1)

by L.C. Davis

I can tell he isn't the love interest on account of how she isn't always thinking about his abs.

I've lived on this planet for twenty-two fucking years and I've never seen someone's eyes twinkle. Something is very, very wrong with this place.

Definitely a main character moment for me.

The intensity of his stare is unsettling, to say the least. I'm pretty sure I've never looked at anything or anyone that way, except maybe a twenty-ounce sirloin at Longhorn.

I know I should be offended by that remark, but I'm honestly not sure how I should be offended.

"Bro, I think I've got dream appendicitis." I blink at him. "I don't think there's a special dream variation, but that's beside the point.

Feels like someone took a fucking torque wrench to my oil pan gasket." "You're human," the doctor says pointedly. "You don't have one of those."

You have your werewolf period."

My signals are so crossed right now there's a six-lane pile-up happening internally.

All that's left is for my conscious mind to fall in line and swallow its pride. Can a mind even swallow anything? They don’t have throats. Pretty sure mine has a cock at the very least, though, and it's rock fucking hard.

Fucking hell, maybe I am a little bit gay. Like... one percent. Maybe one and a half.

He spreads my cheeks and his tongue slides up my crack and it immediately skyrockets to five percent.

"Great," I mutter. "Just what I've always wanted. A magical, lube-dispensing asshole to turn alphas on."

"Easy," he says, and that's the six-hundred dollar square in “things you'd say to a horse and also a lover."