Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“It’s your food. I just served it up.”
“You took care of me, Kit.” I strip off my shirt and she gasps.
“You’re hurt!”
“Yeah, Kit. Fought a pack of cats.” I check the spot where the claw dug into me. It’s not bleeding but not healing as quickly as usual. My system’s still dealing with the effects of the juice.
“You need a bandage.” Jordy leans close. My cock jumps as she inspects the wound, her breath light on my abs. I can’t help reaching out and lifting her hair back to see her face.
That’s when I see the purple mottling above her collarbone, around her neck.
“What the fuck,” I growl. “You got bruises on your throat.” I take her head in my hands to examine her.
She bites her lip but holds still. “Grizz, please. It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing. Looks like someone tried to choke you out.”
“It was one of the cats. He grabbed me and kinda…got his hand around my throat.” She raises her hand to demonstrate.
My bear rumbles deep in my gut. I’ll kill him. Gripping her hair, I turn her head this way and that, memorizing the placement of the bruises. The pattern. The cat will die with the same marks around his neck.
“It’s been hours. Why aren’t you healing faster?”
She hesitates. “Prey shifters heal slower.”
I feel like a tool. She took care of me and all I notice is how hot she is. How much I want to bone her. I’m not taking care of her the way I should.
Time to rectify that. Right the fuck now.
“Shower.” I let go of her hair so she can stand. “You go first.”
“You’re hurt worse,” she murmurs. “Maybe you should—”
I shake my head. “Ladies first. My momma raised me right.” I don’t add that she would’ve smacked me for not taking better care of Jordy and offering sooner. “Come on.” I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Jordy waits by the door and I motion her in.
“I can’t,” she says, her eyes downcast. “Please, let me serve you.”
Serving me in the shower…now that’s an idea.
No! Bad bear!
“Strip,” I order.
Her hands fly to her t-shirt and pause, her eyes meeting mine.
“That’s right,” I tell her before turning my back to give her privacy. “Clothes off, then hop in the shower.” I close my eyes at the sound of rustling of clothes. I remember every curve of her beautiful body. I want to touch all that alabaster skin. Find out where her sensitive spots are. Learn what makes her hum.
Too much fucking temptation.
“I’ll get you clothes.” I head out of the bathroom.
Jordy
I close my eyes and let the warm water cascade over my face. Showers are so good, but rare. Most of the time Augustine just had me hose off in the backyard. He really got off treating me like a pet.
It wasn’t until I met Grizz that I realize how messed up my master was. Sure, I liked some of it. But he never treated me like an equal. To him I was an animal. A pet. Or not even that—just a plaything, a food source, an object to be used and thrown away.
There was a time when he was kinder. When I thought we could be more. But then—
The scars on my chest itch at the memory. I wish I knew what happened that night. How I tried so hard but still displeased him. Worthless, he called me. He’d never been so cruel before.
A knock on the door breaks my thoughts. I jump.
“Clothes out here, Kit.”
He calls me ‘Kit’. I’ve never had a nice nickname before. I like it.
I turn the water off carefully. I didn’t shave, but my legs are still pretty smooth.
I walk out and Grizz is playing messages on his home phone. It’s on speaker, but even if it wasn’t I could hear every word. Not because my shifter hearing is that good, but because the person who left the message is shouting.
“Of all the stupid fucking things to do—and then you call the fire department? We don’t need this kinda publicity.”
Grizz hits a button, and the message stops as I approach. I tried to be quiet but there’s no sneaking up on him. Either that or he was waiting for me.
I flush as he looks me up and down. My hair is wet—he doesn’t have a hair dryer, but I pulled it back as neatly as I could. I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt of his and a clean pair of underwear. Someone must have put the things we bought in the bike saddle bags. One of the silly shifters we met—Declan or Parker.
“I forgot to get pajamas,” I say what he already knows. His gaze sweeps over me, snagging at chest level. My nipples are hard, showing through.
“It’s all right,” he says thickly, and goes back to listening to the message.