Apparently, the duct in the ceiling did function. As I lay there, the air cleared. When it dispersed to less than eye-watering level, I became aware of another, much more tantalizing aroma.
True to her word, she’d brought me food. A plate sat beside my bed. As soon as I sat up to remove the cover, Trix shot to a sitting position, proving that she’d been waiting rather hopefully for me to notice the tasty snack.
It was, of all things, a sandwich. Meat and a spicy sauce between two pieces of bread. It smelled delicious and tasted even better.
It did, however, necessitate something else. I left Trix licking the plate and slipped out of the room, then down the hall to the washroom.
If this was smaller than the male side, I was impressed. It offered gleaming metal showers—thankfully with doors—and toilets of various shapes. I chose one that looked familiar and let nature take its course.
The water at the sink was high pressure and hot, which boded well for the showers. As I dried my hands, I checked off one more thing not to be worried about. I hadn’t been sure of the communal washroom concept, but I thought I could handle this.
That assurance vanished the moment I stepped into the hall.
Someone emerged from the male side. I intended to turn away and hustle down the appropriate passageway, but instead, my eyes gravitated to the nude expanse of male chest and froze.
Wowsers.I’d only seen those kinds of muscles in magazines, and most of those had been digitally altered. Every ridge was clearly defined, from the throat to the impossibly broad shoulders, across the expanse of pecs, down to washboard abs—it appeared that an eight-pack was definitely possible—to the vee of muscle that disappeared beneath sweatpants dangling off a set of slim hips. I swear the freaking things were held up by his bulging thighs—they rode so low. A dusting of hair beckoned my gaze even lower...
His skin had that damp, fresh-from-the-shower look, and it was covered in a tracery of faint white lines—scars. Before I could theorize as to their cause, my gaze dropped to the distinctive ridged bulge between his thighs. I flushed red hot before I wrenched them desperately back upward, aware that he was watching me and couldn’t possibly have missed my rude perusal of his attributes.
My eyes overshot his face to the wet hair that stood in disreputable spikes from his head. Blinking, I lowered them. And only then did I recognize him.
Emerald eyes danced at me. “Like what ya see, Angel?”
I made a grab for my tarnished dignity. “You usually shower in the middle of the night?”
Matt’s grin broke free, transforming him from rugged and handsome to drop-dead status. Be still my heart.
“I scarpered. Went for a run with the bloody moon. Um, moons. I’m a werewolf, remember?”
Right. A werewolf. My beleaguered pumper spasmed in my chest as I groped for something to say. “Are those scars?”
He hesitated—the barest pause—before shrugging. “Not much ta do on the cattle station. Spent my free time cage fighting at a place outside Darwin.”
“Cage fighting with what? Razors?”
He grinned and held up a hand that sprouted wicked claws. “Werewolfcage fighting, Angel. We fight human, but heal fast, so we don’t hold back on the claws. Much, anyway.”
I swallowed as my thoughts screeched to a halt. There was just way too much gorgeous naked male exposed for any kind of decorum on my part. I wrenched myself away, forcing my reluctant feet to carry me anywhere but here and now.
That appeared to be toward the hall, and my room. Unfortunately, and of course, he came with me. He hovered close enough that I smelled the soap he’d used. Or maybe it was his shampoo. Either way, he smelled too damned good.
Bedazzled by naked male torso, I walked right past the cutoff to our rooms.
“Hey, this way,” he reached a hand out to my arm.
The second he touched my elbow, my entire world spun in kaleidoscopic celebration. Literally, lights danced through my brain, and I thought my heart would leap clear out of my chest.
My startled gaze shot to him, and his eyes flared brilliant emerald. We stood frozen in the hall.
A door opened about ten feet down it, and another man walked toward us. About as tall as Matt, but wider. He was also shirtless, and there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh anywhere on him.
The newcomer’s eyes fastened on me, and they widened before flaring gold.
Matt pulled his hand free from my arm, but his entire body went rigid as he stared the other Dire down. The shifter matched his gaze for only a moment before looking away, and I stepped sideways to let him by.
As the other Dire passed us, a low rumble escaped Matt.
“Hey,” I protested. “It’s fine.”
