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Tan skin. Dark hair, short on the sides and gelled up at the top. Incredible body, like every damned male werewolf.
But I’d been there, done that, already. Literally. The tiny beast in my arms was enough proof of that, and my crazy bastard of an almost-mate was more than enough to have me calling it quits on men permanently.
I had my best friend, and that was plenty.
Sure, I’d been told that my wolf might kick in and try to pick out another mate for herself, but I didn’t think there was a chance in the world that she’d actually be insane enough to take that risk after what happened with the last bastard.
The gorgeous guy finally lifted his head, and our eyes collided.
My wolf surged through me, and I fought her off, trying to maintain control.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“Sorry, I spaced on the tip. Here, thanks for—” He cut himself off, and his eyes went wide.
My wolf ripped every last shred of control I had from my grip, and my breath caught. My spine started to contort, and I nearly crashed to the ground. The hot guy caught me and Evan, his hands big and warm.
The wolf’s control on me grated even more harshly as she stole my voice long enough to breathe, “Mate.”
I lost myself to the wolf, then.
