Page 32

“Okay. Thanks so much, Rocky.” I took a step toward the door, my belly fizzing with nerves and breathless excitement, before I stopped. “Wait. Can I get your number?”

Rocky’s brow quirked. “You’re cute, sweetheart, but not really my—”

“No, just as… as friends.” He was handsome, and he’d been kind to me tonight, but my brain was now singularly focused on that big, hot werewolf B. Were. My previous crush had returned in full force. Even fuller force, actually. He was a million times hotter to me now.

Rocky grinned boyishly, and we quickly exchanged numbers while the lizard shifter mobster watched in disinterest, chewing on his gum. He gave me a brief nod when I finally turned back to the door.

“He’ll be in the locker room. Or the shower.”

My belly tightened, breath catching in my throat. Oh. Well. I hoped I didn’t accidentally interrupt him in the shower. That would be… just terrible.

Or while he was getting undressed. Or redressed. Or drying off. Or still all sweaty and caked in blood from his fight…

The shifter shut the door behind me, blocking out the sounds of the crowd slowly filtering away in the main room. I took a deep breath, smoothing my shirt down. I was in a cold, draughty corridor that felt good after the relentless warmth of too many bodies. It veered in two directions, and to the left I could see cardboard boxes stacked up, folding chairs leaning against a wall, and a mop sitting in its bucket. To the right, light spilled from an open doorway further up, and I could see a hint of yellowing tile with stained grout.

I went that way, and in my head, I tried to rehearse what I was actually going to say to B. Were when I accosted him in the locker room.

Hi there. You met me once, months ago. You signed a pair of shorts for me. I jerked off in those for days after. Anyway, great fight. I want to worship you. Can I?

No, that was probably a touch too strong.

Hi there, I’m Klaus. We actually met a while back, and when I saw you here, I just had to come and say hello. Anyway, great fight, I want to worship you. Can I?

Better, but…

A faint noise up ahead, through that brightly lit doorway, made my pulse leap. It’d sounded like the rustle of fabric followed by a terse exhale. I hesitated in the corridor for a moment, then stepped into the room on shaky legs, taking it in as quickly as possible as I blinked in the bright glow of the horribly unflattering fluorescent strip lights overhead.

It was more of an oversized storage closet than a locker room, with cleaning products piled up in one corner, a row of six dented, sticker-covered lockers, and a single wooden bench with legs swollen from moisture.

There was an open duffel bag on that bench, but I barely registered it, because standing beside the lockers was B. Were. Fenrir.

In just a towel.

He hadn’t showered yet. He was still covered in sweat and blood, the suede-like fur on his chest and stomach gleaming with both. There was already a smear of blood on the off-white towel wrapped low around his hips, held up with a clawed hand.

My mouth went dry.

He’d frozen in place and was staring at me in silence with a blank expression on his lupine face. Then again, expressions were kind of hard to gauge on a werewolf’s fully shifted face.

“Um.” My voice cracked, so I cleared my throat. “H-hi. I’m—You probably don’t remember me, but we actually met at a Goliaths meet and greet a few months ago—”

“I remember you.”

Unholy crap, his voice. It was all deep and growly and almost solemn, hardly any inflection in it, but it was so hot.

And, oh Lucifer, he actually remembered me. I resisted the urge to squeal.

He was still gripping his towel as he stood there unmoving, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from flitting down his tall, muscular frame, trying to soak it all in while he was practically naked in front of me.

And then I noticed how thin that towel actually was—practically threadbare. I gulped, feeling my skin prickle with heat. I could see the outline of his cock so clearly, and it was…

Majestic. Awe-inspiring. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

My breaths had sped up as I stared at it. Moving without conscious thought, I took a few stilted steps closer to him, gaze still locked on the tantalising outline of that thick length, the gentle curve of his relaxed cock distending the fabric of the towel.

My dick, still trapped under the waistband of my pants, throbbed. I felt wetness on my hip as pre-cum seeped from me. My clawed toes curled in my shoes, and my tail started to quiver with arousal, rising behind me.

B. Were’s breath caught, then I heard him inhale deeply, and heat crawled up my neck. I knew I was pumping out pheromones right now, beyond turned on, and he was a werewolf—his olfactory senses were better than anyone else’s. He was probably getting hit with a big fat dose of those horny incubus hormones right now, but it wasn’t like I could stop it or mask it. Which was a little embarrassing.