Page 20 of Greer's Change

“I grabbed towels.” She drops them and slides by me, stepping into the shower. My eyes are drawn to the little creases that form under her ass cheeks. I’d like to bite those.

Shaking away the ridiculous thought, I climb in after her.

“Ahh, oh, it’s hot,” she grumbles, spinning around and tipping her head back.

“Creature of hell here, sweetheart. My apologies. I don’t tend to notice the heat.” I wrap my arm around her, putting a hand up to support her head.

My fingers dig into her scalp while I adjust the temperature with the other hand. Once I’m done, I dig into the slick skin of her shoulder, probing for knots and kinks.

She moans. “Mmm, that feels great.”

My half-hard cock views it as an invitation. I pop my ass back to keep from bumping her with it. Her eyes fall shut, and it becomes clear her eyelashes are a light pinkish-blonde like her hair. Her pussy is bare of any hair, and now I’m intrigued for a completely different reason.

“Is your hair natural?” I squeeze a few pumps of shampoo into my hand and bring them together behind her head to lather. Dried cum is a bitch to get out of hair, making this a timed mission.

I nearly snort.

I’m a secret agent, trying to remove the evidence before she remembers it’s there.

“It is,” she says, squinting like that was a stupid question.

“But Granny Rollins was human,” I point out, working the floral-smelling shampoo into her scalp. Damn, it smells like sweet green apples and roses—not the fake scent, either. It’s light and fresh. I may need to switch hair care brands.

“My dad is human. My mom is a siren.”

My horn bumps the wall as I jolt. Luckily, Greer’s eyes are still shut, and she doesn’t catch it.

I thought Granny and I were close, but she never mentioned a word about that. I knew she had a son who left Black Cove, and that he had a family of his own, but she made it sound like he’d left because he wanted no part of living amongst monsters. She certainly never mentioned a word about her granddaughter being half siren.

Focusing on turning my hands to human form, I wipe away the soap that’s dripping over her forehead. It makes massaging her scalp a hell of a lot easier.

“Head back,” I command. She complies, and I help her rinse. “Your maker turned a siren?” I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the rocks that have formed.

My teeth clench at the thought of someone being so reckless.

“He did.” She swipes my fingers away from her cheek.

I don’t even know how they got there. All I can focus on is how fucking stupid that vampire was to take the risk. Turning humans is nearly always successful, under the right circumstances, but changing other supernatural creatures isn’t so simple.

“Why? And, more importantly, where is he?” I stretch to grab the conditioner, repeating the process of lathering it into her long pink hair.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she says in a strange tone.

“Which part?”

“Any of it.”

“Okay, but why would you take the risk? You had to know the possible outcome.” I grimace, knowing it’s none of my business. I continue massaging the conditioner into her hair but square my shoulders in preparation for her to tell me to go to hell.

“It wasn’t exactly in my five-year plan,” she says with clenched teeth.

“Why were you turned?” I sputter. It could have been a horrendous accident or a near-death experience that left no other choice. If dying was imminent, the risk would’ve been worth it.

“Because I’m a greedy little cock tease who wouldn’t stop begging until he finally gave in to my never-ending demands.” Her head tilts toward the floor as it shakes.

“Hey, no, don’t do that. I don’t think this is a no-tear formula.”

She snorts, and I bring her head back, shielding her eyes to rinse off the soap. She was relaxed and relatively comfortable, despite the fact we barely know each other, but all that has changed.

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