Page 4 of Warlander Grizzly

Lucia narrowed her eyes and wiped the water off her fingertips, sat against the bathroom cabinets and typed away. Fine by me. I never planned on texting you in the first place. Send.

I said don’t text me!

A small smile commandeered Lucia’s face. Are you one of those people who has to get the last word in? Send.

8===D

Had he…had he just sent her a text-drawing of a dick? Lucia leaned back on the bathroom cabinets and crossed her legs, grinning. Oh, she was getting to him. Clinton Fuller’s sons were all wild as hell, and Landon was the youngest of them. He was the only Fuller to stick around Damon’s Mountains. All Fullers were easy to mess with because a) they were dumb, and b) they were reactive.

Your text-dick looks small, she teased. If you have a micro-penis, just say so.

A picture came through almost immediately, and she was not prepared for the actual, real-life dick pic he’d sent.

Okay.

She stared.

Well, all right.

So…he had good hygiene, and also he was hung like a fuckin’ elephant.

She didn’t know what to say. She just kept…staring.

I might have taken that for you, or I might have stolen that off the internet. I guess you’ll never know.

You tattooed your last name on your hip, loser.

He deleted the picture out of their text thread almost instantly. Another image came through a minute later, and in it, he had used some marker tool to scribble over his tattoo in dark blue. It did nothing to detract from his giant, half-erect pecker resting against his six-pack.

How many women have you sent this to? Lucia glared at her text and then deleted it all before she sent it. She tossed the phone face-down on the bathroom rug and glared at the mouse that was sticking his face under the door to check on her.

“I’m fine!”

The mouse disappeared.

On a whim and before she could change her mind, she picked up her phone and connected a call to Landon.

He picked up on the second ring. “What?”

“How many women have you sent that to?” she demanded.

“Just you.” Truth. She could hear the truth ringing in his tone. That was the best part of being a shifter—she could tell if anyone was lying by the tone of their voice.

“Delete it,” she told him.

“From our text?” he asked, confusion saturating his deep voice.

“From your phone. Don’t send it to anyone else.”

“Who do you think I’m going to send it to?” he demanded. “There isn’t exactly a flock of women insulting the size of my text-dick!”

“Delete it and be done with it. This one is only for me. Goodbye.” She hung up in the middle of him responding and then tossed the phone away again.

The mouse was staring at her under the door again.

She picked her phone back up and called Landon back.

“What?” he asked a little too loudly.