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I looked down at my pelvis.
Looked like a damn pelvis.
He huffed at me when I waited for more of an explanation.
Ducking his nose under my skirt, he grabbed the waistband of my panties with his teeth and tugged lightly, before withdrawing and stepping back.
“You don’t like my underwear?” I checked.
He nodded forcefully.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Come on, they’re cute!”
He sniffed the air loudly and dramatically.
“You think they stink?” I demanded.
He shook his head roughly, then paused. And then nodded.
My defenses rose. “I’ve been wearing them for less than four hours, asshole.”
Ihadbeen sweaty, though.
But that didn’t mean I needed a damnwolfwho was supposed to find me supremely sexy to tell me I stunk.
“The nerve,” I muttered, stepping out of the panties. When I gave them a toss, they sailed into the laundry basket and landed smoothly.
I yanked the dresser drawer open and found a fresh pair. Pretty much all of them were in some shade of pink, and made of lace. I loved pink, lacey shit. He was going to have to accept that about me, if he did decide he wanted me.
After pulling them on without flashing the wolf—since I was annoyed at him—I stepped toward the door.
He growled again.
I nearly threw my arms up in frustration. “What now?”
He lifted my skirt again and poked my upper thigh with his nose.
“That’s my leg, dude. Nothing I can do about that if you don’t like it,” I grumbled.
He snapped his teeth at me, and I reared back. “What the hell?”
He wedged himself between me and the dresser, pushing me to the side.
I swore as I stepped away, and watched him as he begun to use his teeth to open the drawers and dig through the contents one by one.
He was growling in frustration by the time he reached the last drawer, and it occurred to me what he was doing.
“You want me to wear shorts under my dress?”
His head jerked toward me, and he nodded emphatically.
I snorted. “I don’t have any. Sorry. No leggings or tights, either. I’m a vampire; we don’t get cold. Even if we did, I wouldn’t wear them. I hate having things wrapped around my legs.” I gestured to the long things. “I even stick my legs out of my blanket when I sleep. Look.” I gestured toward the bed, and its wildly-tangled sheets and blankets. My phone had gotten lost somewhere in those blankets before my pukeathon, but I didn’t bother looking for it.
He scowled at the bed.
“Can we go now?” I checked.
He reluctantly nodded.
