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Oh, what a wonderful idea. Listen to him, Strap. He’s onto something.
“God, when are you two going to shut the hell up?” Strap asked out loud, backing away from the edge. “I need to shift, but we’renotfollowing her. Got it? We’re getting the knife, and we’re going back to France to find Mick. No ifs, no buts.”
His condor and panther grumbled in his mind, but he didn’t give a damn. Outstretching his arms, Strap welcomed the shift. It became easier the more times he morphed. Faster too. His arms turned to wings, and his muscled legs turned thin, with three hooked claws at the ends instead of fingers.
Feathers grew along his back, and his neck curved inward.
Satisfied, Strap leapt off the edge of the building and soared toward his mate’s balcony. With his feet firmly on the floor, he shifted back to his human form. No matter how big and imposing his condor was, that was all useless when he couldn’t even open a damn door.
Gritting his teeth, Strap pried the glass barrier to the side and slipped in. What a noisy display. His younger self wouldn’t have been caught dead doing such a pathetic break-in attempt, but he was older and rustier with a gap in his resume, so to speak.
With a small sigh, he shook his head and continued forward into the apartment. He passed the bedroom where the scent of his mate still lingered. The bed was messy, sheets strewn across the mattress while the imprint of her head split the pillow in half.
This is nice, his panther purred.I wouldn’t mind spending a few nights in a place like this.
His condor agreed.
And before Strap had the chance to shut them up, he froze in his tracks. The cold end of a gun barrel pressed against the back of his skull. The hammer cocked.
Oh, shit.
FOUR
MICKEY
She made sure the barrel was pressed against his head. She held her finger above the trigger, being sure to watch any movements he made. She scowled, questioning how the hell he managed to find her.
She was sure she had lost him, but she hadn't, and now she was in what she called a sticky situation.
Speaking of sticky situations…
Her eyes raked over his naked ass once more, and she growled at herself internally. This man was packed with everything a girl would want.
Just because the man is naked doesn’t mean you need to look at all his assets.
She shook her head. She needed to focus. While this certainly wasn't a tactic she would normally have used, it had thrown her.
"Who the hell are you, and who the fuck breaks into someone's apartment bare-assed?" She suddenly wasn't sure she wanted the answer.
She had seen way too many TV shows to know what that could mean. But this was the guy who chased her, so wanting sex wasn't on his to-do list, and neither was it on hers. Which meant there was another reason.
She shook her head. "Actually, let me rephrase that. What kind of weirdo breaks into an apartment five stories high, naked?" That was the question she wanted an answer to. Just how crazy was he?
She could hear him inhale sharply, like he knew just how stupid he was about to sound. He sighed. "This looks bad."
Badisn’t how I would describe it. From what I’m seeing, the man is well endowed, but sure, let's go with bad. Bad sounds like the right word.
"You have five seconds before I shoot you." She pressed the gun harder against his skull, being sure to make her point.
He threw his hands up. "Wait, let me explain. Please. I swear I'm not a creep."
She took a step back, being sure to hold the gun steady. She watched as he turned, giving her a full frontal view of his cock.
Son of … Lord, this man's junk would make any woman drop to their knees. Jesus, he had the length and girth women dreamed about.
Her mouth watered at the sight. She reached an arm behind her grabbing one of the pillows off her couch. She tossed it at him, scrunching her nose as she did. "Stop waving that thing at me. Cover your bits."
He caught the pillow and moved it to cover his cock. He could keep the pillow now that his junk had been on it.
