My coworker...
...turns into a puddle after a hard day of scolding birds from the window.
#coronapocalypse day 878: toaster oven s'mores have become a lunch food and I've learned I'm married to a man who says "let's circle back." How are you faring?
BOOK NEWS: Write. Edit. Do it all over again. Dash and Colette are soooo close to being done. I'm in the final haul where Mr. Lane needs to keep me fed and watered as I become one with my office chair. Then it's straight into a new supar sekret project that I canNOT wait to tell you about!
Take care, lovelies!
xoxo
***
Dash swept his gaze over the bar and settled on a dark corner in the back. There she was. Colette Ashford, girl next door. Only, Colette was no girl. She was grade-A, dick-hardening, gorgeous woman.
She even had one of those pretty names that hid a spine of steel and take-no-shit attitude just like all the girls his grandmother used to run wild with in her younger days. Elodie. Genevieve. Madalina. The way he craved Colette, he could almost believe she'd worked some of that old swamp magic on him.
He consumed her slowly, taking in the cowboy boots on her crossed ankles and the inches of smooth skin he wanted to lick and nibble until he reached the hem of her cutoff shorts. Her top wasn’t anything special--plain black that caressed her curves without hugging tightly and offered a modest peek of cleavage instead of baring all to the world. Light blonde hair hung past her shoulders, the ends twisting with the tiniest hint of curl that he always wanted to wrap around his fingers.
She was here. She was back home.
She wasn't alone.
His lion roared through his head. Sendings flashed. Hot blood on his tongue, red spilled on the floor. The beast under his skin slashed and shoved at him, aching to tear apart the male handing a fresh drink to his mate.
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