Page 35 of Last Shot at Love

A smile curved my lips. Her walls were already crumbling.

Beryl had kissed me this morning. All on her own.

I’d slept very little the previous night thanks to the rigid erection that had refused to go down, thanks to the naked woman snuggled against me. It hadn’t helped matters when the sheet had slipped down to her waist, putting her bare breasts on full display.

Lying beside her was agony… and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything.

When her breathing had changed, I knew Beryl had awakened. She’d thought I was asleep, and I’d remained motionless, curious to see what she would do.

I hadn’t expected her to kiss me, and the touch of her pouty lips sucking my bottom lip into her mouth had nearly been my undoing.

Instead of reaching for her phone, she’d reached for me.

Yesterday, she had planned to hire someone to show me around the city, but this morning when we spoke of my need to swim, Beryl had said she would sit on the shore and watch me.

They weren’t declarations of undying love, but they were signs of growing affection. It was a start.

She was willing to open her home, her wallet, and her body to me… but I wanted her to open her heart. Still smiling, I began swimming again.

When I finally headed toward shore, it was almost lunchtime.

“No, thank you. I’m not interested in playing,” Beryl’s voice carried through the water.

Who was she talking to?

“Come on! What could it hurt to play one game?” an unfamiliar male voice echoed through the water.

“I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not comfortable having you pick me up. Maybe if my mate wants to play when he returns, we can join you guys.” Beryl’s words carried a note of strain.

Whoever the guy was, he was making her uncomfortable. My jaw clenched in agitation.

“Come on, Beryl! You were so good at volleyball on land. I bet you’d be amazing in the water. Please come play!” a female’s voice pleaded.

Forgetting that I was tired, I pushed my limbs to move us faster through the water. I reached the shallow area near shore where Beryl and several others were standing on either side of a net.

What game were they wanting Beryl to play?

From beneath the rippling surface of the water, I watched as a man—a werewolf shifter by his scent—took a step toward Beryl, his hands reaching for her beneath the water. The rest of the group had paired up, the men lifting the girls on their shoulders, and he was trying to do the same with Beryl.

I realized with dawning horror that this man wanted to put his head between my mate’s thighs. Just the thought of him being so close he would smell her sweet scent had my blood boiling and my rings flashing in anger.

Jettisoning myself forward, I wrapped my tentacles around Beryl’s long legs. I kept her balanced as I stood, lifting her from the water on my shoulders.

“Ah!” Beryl shrieked in surprise.

Then she looked down, her eyes meeting mine, and joy flashed through her green irises.

My heart melted.

She’s happy to see me.

Her fingers brushed the loose blonde hair off my forehead.

“Hi, mate,” she whispered, bringing her lips to mine in a sweet upside-down kiss.

“Is that your mate, Beryl?” the female gushed. “What a hottie!”

Beryl’s thighs tightened around my head, and I fought the urge to spin her around on my shoulders so my mouth would be pressed against her sweet—

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