It’s as I’m relishing the sight of him that I notice the claw marks scouring his back. I hiss in a breath. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, my claws came out to play earlier. Des turns around, instantly alarmed. “What is it?” I nod to his back. “I hurt you.” He casts a glance over his shoulder. I know he can’t see the markings, but he must recall them because he smirks. “If you’re feeling truly terrible about it, Callie, I’m sure we could work out a way for you to repay—” “Des!” That’s what I get for being thoughtful.
