Chapter 7
“Claw.” My monster was the one speaking. She looked him up and down and liked what she saw.
He smelled like moss submerged beneath cold spring water with melt-in-your-mouth butterscotch layered over top. The combination didn’t sound appetizing. But it really, really was.
It was also deeply familiar, the scent having followed me through last night’s dreams.
“Olivia,” he answered. But his eyes didn’t meet mine. Instead, they angled lower. No, he wasn’t staring at my boobs. His attention appeared to be riveted on the pulse pounding at the base of my throat.
I raised a hand to cover my exposed jugular, took a step sideways out of easy reach. “What are you doing here?” I demanded. And were you here all night?
The second question almost made it out of my lips, but I managed to sw
