Yours. Take what’s yours. Tugging at her robe’s sash, he demanded, “Take this off.” “Can you give me a second…or,” she glanced at him uneasily. “No.” “But…” “I thought you and I worked through the bashfulness in the shower, baby. I’ve already seen you, Becca. Loved the way you look, waiting for more of the same show with bigger action. Let’s go with that.” He tore the robe clean off of her. Licking dry lips, he tried not to but growled anyway. Startling them both with the werewolf’s need, his appetite was increasing. “Shyness is overrated, a clear interference.” A voice distorted with the beast. “I’m not used to…so much…of this,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Her embarrassment permeated the room. “I apologize for overwhelming you, but that’s what happens on honeymoons, right?”
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