Page 35 of Cold Foot King

“Did you live together?”

“No. We weren’t there yet. We talked about it some, but there wasn’t a rush.”

“Did you…” She cleared her throat again as tendrils of heat landed in her cheeks. “Were you sleeping together?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t like it. A snarl rattled up her throat, and she gripped her coffee a little tighter, feeling low.

“No kissing,” he said.

“What?”

He turned the shower off. “I didn’t kiss her.”

Kat’s eyes were probably the size of flying saucers right now. “How is that even possible?”

“It was a once-a-month fuck from behind if we had a few beers in us, and then going our separate ways.”

“That sounds…”

“Cold?”

“I was going to say familiar.”

He stepped onto the towel she’d set down on the floor beside the shower, and gestured to a pair of folded towels beside her. “Can you hand me one?”

Feeling bold, she dragged her gaze down his body slowly. He looked like dripping wet demigod.

When she reached his eyes again, she gave him a smirk and said, “Come get it.”

His answering wicked smirk said he had a fun side. King padded to her slowly, locked his arms on the counter and leaned into her, brushed his lips against the side of her neck, and then murmured against her ear, “Blonde with no scars on her face. Now ask me my type.”

Her heart pounded harder, and between her legs, a deep, warm tingling sensation spread outward.

“What’s your type?” she asked.

He pushed off the counter and grabbed a towel. “Apparently, spicy lioness shifters with mate issues, scarred-up faces, and an attitude problem.”

She laughed. “She sounds adorable.”

“She’s not. Sexy as hell though. I’ve touched her before, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I wasn’t even in my right mind, either.”

“You could erase that memory, you know.”

He had the towel around his waist now, and was brushing his teeth. “Pretty sure I wouldn’t want to erase the memory of your perfect tits. Just the parts where neither of us wanted it like that.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He cast her a frown, and slowed brushing his teeth. He leaned down and spit, then rinsed his mouth, cleaned his toothbrush, and straightened up, using the hand towel to wipe water from his short beard.

His eyes were blazing gold again, and the warm sensation between her legs had spread to her stomach.

“Say what you mean,” he rumbled.

“You could replace that memory with a new one. One where we are both in our right minds.”

“Say it.”