But I wasn’t going to get any calmer, not with the implications of that internal war flooding me, burning me. I ran to the front hallway and threw open the door to see…nothing. No people, no beer. Horseshoes lay abandoned on the glistening grass. The party had moved inside the other townhouse because it was pouring rain. That thunder hadn’t simply been my heart or Glynn’s purr. It had been real. Lucking fovely. Walking home in the rain, the overflowing flush to an already-toileted day. I took a deep breath, pushed it out to control my heart rate. Sooner started sooner finished. Thank goodness I had my waterproof— That’s when I remembered my pink jacket. I spat a ripe curse. The jacket that Glynn had peeled off and dropped to the floor just before his fingers tweaked my already stiff nipples. I swore again. Stupid, leaving my jacket in Glynn’s room. But stupider, what I’d almost let happen. What I still wanted to happen. Fuck me, I was a size two dress and a size eight ass hat.
What do You think about Biting Oz: Biting Love, Book 5?
