Caine doesn't acknowledge Lyre's words, his stormy eyes never leaving my face. The intensity of his gaze makes me feel stripped bare, as though he's peeling away layers I didn't even know I had.
Then there's my body.
The stupid thing wants to wrap itself around him until his smell seeps into my skin, deep enough it can never be scrubbed away. To lick his neck and see what he tastes like. To put my mouth—
Damn it, my mind's going haywire.
Stupid body. Stupid cologne-ad smell. Stupid sexy werewolf.
"Come on, boss." Jack-Eye claps a hand on his shoulder. "Let's give the ladies their beauty sleep."
Suddenly, I like Caine's beta very much. What a reasonable, thoughtful man.
