The laughter was bad enough. The mockery too, but then she did the unthinkable. She held up her fingers to her crown and waggled them.

Mocking him.

Bryce charged Melanie, lifted her off her feet, and held her high, glaring at her. She didn’t look scared at all. She squealed and continued to laugh, deeply and joyfully.

After her somberness of before, he couldn’t stand to be the reason why it stopped—even if he was the butt of her joke.

But he did know of one way to silence her that would make him happy.

He kissed her, and it turned out it wasn’t a fluke or his imagination. The touch of their lips truly was an explosion for his senses. Every nerve ending in his body awakened.

Ignited.

Desire flowed like a molten river through his veins.

He deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, tasting the bitter sweetness of the iced tea, feeling her soften in his arms and return his embrace.

As he held her aloft, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close, their bodies pressing tight. Clothes impeded skin-to-skin contact. He growled as he rubbed his hands over the fabric of her shirt, tucked into her jeans.

She wiggled until he set her down. For a moment, he thought she might have changed her mind. Yet, she held his gaze as she tugged her shirt free, peeling it off, leaving her clad in her bra and jeans. Her hands went to the button on her pants next. Pop. The loop opened, the zipper slid down, his mouth went dry.

A coy smile pulled her lips as she shrugged them off, her cotton panties—a pale pink and full hipped—the sexist thing he’d ever seen.

“Come here.” He crooked a finger, eager to touch her, feel her.

A shake of her head and a giggle meant a contagious mirth. She teased and, before his eyes changed, but before she did, she chortled, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

While he’d changed many a time, and in the presence of others, he found himself fascinated anew by the process. Skin replaced by fur. A body that reshaped as if momentarily elastic. The whole physical makeup flipped into something new, leaving only familiar eyes.

A wink.

Then off she dashed, her powerful hind legs propelling her away from him.

Shit.

He quickly stripped and morphed into his shape, bellowing a cry of exultation as he felt his powerful rack spring from hiding, the mechanics of it a magic no amount of science and medicine could explain.

It just was.

Off he bounded, his four-legged, long stride taking him along the same trail as her. He had no need to stop and smell. Her scent was imprinted on him, almost visible to follow.

She led him on a merry chase. Weaving through tall trees. Dashing through a meadow, the tip of her furry butt winking out of sight as she fled into the woods.

Splash. Furry paws hit water as she thought to lose him in a thin stream, but his height meant he saw the faint imprint of a paw in mud where she exited the water.

He leapt over the creek and hit the other side, charging through the woods, knowing this land better than her. He herded her, weaving left and right, forcing her into a direction.

Ahead was a stony outcrop. Too steep even for a nimble cat to climb.

Only when he had her cornered did he change shapes, stalking toward her, body tense with anticipation. She changed as well, fur smoothing into skin, nice skin. Shapely flesh, the kind he wanted to touch and kiss all over.

He could see the rapid beat of her pulse, the flushed heat in her cheeks. He grabbed her in his arms, the hot contact of their flesh a sensual override on his system.

The temptation of her lips meant he dipped his head to kiss her, deeply and passionately. His hands roamed her frame, learning her curves, marking them with his touch, wanting to imprint himself on her. To have her bear his scent.

He took her mouth. Claimed it. Ran his tongue along the seam as his hands roamed the skin of her back.

Lusciously lean, yet curved in the right places. Her waist an indent that flared over hips. Her ass a taut pleasure to grab. The hardness of his erection pressed against her lower belly. Straining and ready.

He wanted her desperately, and the scent of her arousal, the sweetest of perfumes, showed she wanted him too…so why did she pull away?

Why did she chew that lower lip instead of nibbling on him?

Why did it sound like she just said they needed to slow down because…

He might have given his head a little shake. “What did you just say?”

“I said I’m a virgin.”