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Quickly, she undid the button of her jeans. “Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“Your… cat.”
Eagan’s chest tightened knowing she was concerned. It was sweet. “Not really. But he usually gets what he wants.”
She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and pushed her jeans to the floor.
Fucking hell.
Fuckingfunctionalhell.
“No panties,” he rasped.
She wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. Nothing. Not a single fucking thing on her curvy hips. Eagan’s gaze took her in, not even bothering to fight it this time. Her legs were smooth and luscious, but a wild triangle of hair caught him off guard. Everyone was so well groomed these days, it was almost a shock to see what he assumed was six years worth of hair-down-there. But fuck him… fuck him hard… it washot.
He brushed his fingers over his lips, grappling for control.
“I quit wearing panties years ago.” She stepped out of her jeans and bent to pick them up.
Eagan blinked. Damn, she was so feral. So wild. He was the shifter. He was supposed to be the wilder one. But no, this female with her outrageous body and her simplistic approach to life… she was the most straightforward, untamed, thing he’d ever encountered. How did a human best him at being feral? And why the hell was that so irresistible?
She handed him her clothes, and it was a damn miracle he was able to take them without grabbing her and pulling her against his body like he so wanted to.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” she said, starting to close the door. He smacked his palm against it to stop her.
“Take more than a few minutes.” His voice was tight. “I need some time.”
Her brow furrowed in concern. “Okay.”
His breath heaved as the door clicked closed. He stood there, listening as the water kicked on. The cat prowled inside. Mate was so close. Naked with the water rolling over her delectable body.
Eagan spun on his heel, marching through the kitchen area to the washing machine. He tossed Clara’s clothes in and added soap. He’d wait to start it until her shower was finished.
He turned, propping his hands on the edge of the washer, breathing deep. There was no hope his erection was deflating. His pants were so tight he might have to cut them off.
An ironic laugh escaped him. How their forefathers did it was beyond him. How they found any female more desirable than their mate. How they could stomach ever being with another. The way he felt about the female in his shower… the bond he felt for her was the most powerful thing he’d ever experienced.
Maybe Renner was right after all. Maybe it was only a state of mind, and their instincts could be overridden by choice. Maybe you chose who you wanted to be, what kind of love story you wanted to live.
If it was true, if it was a choice… he chose her. Clara. Just Clara. For life.
His sweet and sassy Clara, who’d made mistakes but wanted to fix them. He’d take her forever and make her so happy she’d never want to get lost in the woods again.
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back on his shoulders, a grin curving his lips.
Functional. He’d show her functional.
