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Just tanning here like a lazy bug.
It feels nice, though.
It really does.
And even if I wanted to work I couldn’t. I haven’t eaten since dinner of the span before the Ott Alpha came for me.
How many spans has it been?
Not too many. Four, I believe. The hunger isn’t too bad. Besides, my thighs could use some shrinking. At the McMar clan, I ate well, and at times gorged on their dinner.
A splash of water in the lake startles me.
My heart starts beating faster when I see the Alpha emerging out of the water near the dock, his gray eyes fixed on me as his palm rests on the surface and he leaps onto the wood. Nude, he moves too quickly for me to get a good look at his front before giving me his profile, hence the side view of his body.
Dear wolf, what fine thighs you have.
And a fine bottom.
As if he knows I’m inspecting his ass, he contracts the muscle. Once, twice. Damn. There’s a dimple on the side.
Three times.
He knows I’m watching.
After a few moments, he walks to a trunk and takes out a towel to wrap it around his middle.
“Booo,” I whisper, and he smiles under his breath.
Could he really hear that? No way. I barely heard myself.
He gets some things out of the trunk and starts setting up what I think might be the first grooming station I’ve ever seen.
There’s no other way to describe it.
Seith props a small mirror on top of a long broomstick, the bottom of which he jabs between a gap in the dock’s planks so that the mirror is at the same height as his face when he sits on the trunk. Then he gets a fishnet-like sack, which holds a bunch of toiletries. He pulls out a large bar of soap before walking back toward the edge of the lake. There he stands with his legs parted, giving me a full view of his back.
Built the way a lycan alpha ought to be built, Seith is the very definition of masculinity and raw power, from the wide shoulders, powerful muscles on his back, to the tapered waist. His are the most powerful thighs I’ve ever seen. I think he might be even bigger than Lenox, which is saying something.
He throws off the towel and spreads his legs and lets me view his penis dangling between them before jumping into the lake.
When he comes back up, he lathers his hair and washes the rest of his body by coming in and out of the lake several times until he’s nice and clean. Then he shaves meticulously and slowly.
I’m fascinated by the length of the bathing ritual. Though I’m not privy to the lycan males’ grooming or bathing routines, I never thought they’d spend this long on their appearance. From what I gathered at the McMar clan, lycans couldn’t care less about their appearance, and frankly, their gruff looks and careless attitudes, are what make them attractive. Part of their charm is the wildness in their appearance.
Seith here might be different. He’s shaving, not only his face and neck, but also his hair at the sides, leaving the thick platinum-blond mane growing on top. Once done, he puts everything away. At the same time, I hear a knock on the door.
It startles me so much that I jump out of the chair.
It’s a swing chair, so it swings right at the back of my knees, propelling me forward and forcing my body to slam against the window, rattling the entire cabin.
Outside, Seith, who’s just pulling up his pants, almost loses his balance.
He eyes me with a “what the fuck?” look and finishes slipping on his pants. Damn, I missed the view of his front.
“You okay?” His voice is muffled, but I read his lips.
Nodding, I give him a thumbs-up and back away from the window.
