At least as much as it would. I could still smell the scent of Lenorre’s skin like some heady perfume. Rosalin was watching me from her perch on the small bar.“You look,” she tilted her head to the side, “unusually relaxed…”“Unusually relaxed?” “Yeah. You’re not holding your shoulders as stiffly.”Rosalin was a werewolf, and our kind pay attention to body language. It didn’t shock me that she’d noticed the subtle change. I’d have spotted it in her. “I told you when we first met you needed a good shagging. Looks like I was right.”I almost spit out the sip of coffee I’d taken. “Rosalin…” She shrugged, rinsing her mug out in the sink and putting it in the dishwasher. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed it wasn’t my doing.”“Rosalin…”She waved a hand in the air, absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’m not hurt.” She laughed. “My ego is just a little bruised.”“Well, it shouldn’t be,” I said, remembering what had transpired between us.
