I whip my head around and snap my jaws.
“Easy, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Easy. I’m trying something. Just stay still. You won’t hurt me.”
It takes every frayed thread of willpower I possess to lie there and let him approach me. He sits down and leans against my right side, draping one strong arm across my back. The heat of his body and the smoothness of his bare skin is unexpectedly comforting, and I’m conscious of an entirely different sort of need blooming throughout my body. Which is an extremely strange sensation to feel for a human when I’m in this form.
Oddly enough, the arousal eases the hunger a little. My breathing slows, and the fury racing along my veins begins to cool.
Another five minutes or so, and I start to feel clearer, more in control.
I wait a little longer, until I feel as if I might be able to transform.
I try it, and it works. Which leaves me lying naked and human on the sand next to Rick. I’m draped across the sandy earth on my belly, with his arm against my back.
“There, see?” He clears his throat. “You did it. Good girl.”
My teeth are still sharper than usual, and the aqua strands of my hair are still glowing, but I’m no longer intent on swallowing him whole, so…progress.
I climb to my feet, letting my hair fall over my breasts and covering the area between my legs with both hands.
“Um, here.” Rick snatches up a few rags of our clothing and holds them out to me.
I glance from the useless shreds of fabric to his apologetic face. And I burst out laughing.
7
Her laugh is explosive joy. She snorts a little and that just makes her laugh harder.
I’m grinning wider than I have in years. I don’t laugh aloud often, but with her, I can’t help chuckling. Feels good, especially after I thought I might be eaten—which seems like a more frequent danger than it should be. I didn’t realize living in Crescent Cove would be so risky.
She grabs the rags I’m offering and holds them over her privates.
“This is so ridiculous.” She giggles between every few words. “I’m stark naked, and you’re handing me… raggedy scraps… of our torn-up shirts.” She bends over, still laughing, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. “I almost ate you up. Like, stripped every bit of flesh off your bones.”
“I’ve been told I’m a snack,” I say.
That sends her into more peals of laughter. I’m laughing too, but that’s not the only reaction my body’s having. I’ve got eyes. Her hair and the scraps only cover so much of her gorgeous body.
“You want my pants?” I ask.
Her eyes go wide, humor sparkling in them. “Do I want yourpants? Buddy, your pants would fall right off me. Also I don’t know your hygiene habits. What if you’re a skid marks guy?”
“Skid marks?”
“You know… the guy who can’t be bothered to wipe his butt properly.”
“First of all, I’m not going commando here. I’m wearing boxers as well as jeans. And second, I’m a grown man, Marlowe. I have top-shelf hygiene standards.”
When I say her name, the smile leaves her mouth, but her lips stay parted. The humor in her eyes shifts to heat.
The rain pelts incessantly, streaming in rivulets off the edge of the overhang, but other than the sound of its hissing and trickling, the air in this space is quiet. Thunder grumbles distantly, softly.
Marlowe brushes the sand off her chest and thighs, not bothering to be particularly careful about what she’s exposing to me. I clear my throat and glance away.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says.
“Hm?”
“You don’t need to look away like that.”
