Page 61 of Lost Girl

The door opens promptly and in comes Tavi.

Sweaty,dirty, a cocksure grin spreading his lips when he catches the way my mouth parts.

"How you feeling, little wolf?" he asks, dropping the bag slung over his shoulder onto the edge of the bed.

"Just sore, tired. The odd cramp here or there, but they've died down significantly." I'm surprised I can talk with the amount of saliva that's pooled in my mouth.

"Good. You hungry?"

No, but I'm thirsty.

I don't actually say the words aloud, but apparently I don't have to. His smile spreads as though they’re tattooed on my forehead. And God damn him because it's that smile again, the one that hypnotizes you by what it does to his handsome face. He's all fine, hard lines and alluring, dark features.

Holding my stare like a vise as he opens the bag and proceeds to grab fresh clothing.

My stomach flips.

For the love of God, stop it, you bastard.

"I can eat," I manage, and farther still it spreads into a full-on grin because I literally just walked myself right into him responding with, "I can eat, too."

Done, I'm done.

My cheeks have to be brighter than a tomato as the very obvious subliminal forms into something I can picture perfectly.

"Soren probably won't be back for a while. I'm gonna shower real quick and then I'll whip something up. Sound good?" He arches a brow,lovingwhat he can see written all over my face right now.

"Perfect," I agree, offering him a slow nod.

His answer to that?

A soft yet deliciously dark laugh from deep within his chest. Tavi shakes his head, then reaches for the hem of his wood-dusted t-shirt and lifts it over his head. It doesn’t happen in slow motion but I swear that’s how I see it.

Okay, I lied.

NowI'm done.

I mean, I hadn't doubted Tavi's body would look like this, and yet I still find myself shocked. Let’s just say he doesn’t need a gym membership, not when everything he does,what he is,has contributed to this.

Do I even need to paint it out for you?

Broad shoulders, tree trunks for arms, one of his forearms adorned with a jetblack tribal-looking tattoo. His waist tapers in slightly, abdomen rigid.

The man isallmuscle and, of course, encompasses pretty much every weakness I possess.

The V. That's what it's called, right? Those two decadently deep lines that point to what you can only hope is a good cock, tempting you to lick him...

Yeah, he's got it, and holy fuck am I tempted.

And that's exactly what I end up throwing on mental replay as he saunters out of the room, giving me another killer view on his way to the bathroom.

If I don’t combust before Tavi gets me home, it’ll be a miracle.

* * *

I hadto get out of bed while Tavi was in the shower.

The mental replay was killing me. I tried reading one of the novels Soren keeps on the nightstand. That lasted maybe five minutes. Tried another. Same outcome. Tried counting back the days to finally figure out how long I’ve been here.

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