Just One Taste by Maggie Robinson

Author:Maggie Robinson [Robinson, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 25025218
Publisher: Maggie Robinson
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Lyra looked down at her cheap but dependable Timex. “I have a few minutes. Let’s go inside your room.”

Truthfully, she needed to sit down. Better yet, lie down. The current that had arched between them had been so intense, it was a wonder the rubber hadn’t melted on her tennis shoes.

He was handsome, she’d grant him that. Solid athlete’s build, six one or two, shiny blue-black hair, square jaw lightly stubbled. Light green eyes set into a tan face. Powerful arms, since he used to pitch. She didn’t follow sports but Flynn had filled her in.

Probably panther. Certainly hot. Was he going to be one of her summer flings? He had possibilities. She sat down on one of a pair of green plaid wingback chairs that faced the fireplace and waved him to do the same.

“Nice room,” he said. He looked like he wanted to pace, prowl, really, but he sat down across from her.

The room was much more than nice, but Lyra swallowed her annoyance. Most guys weren’t all that into decorating. He wouldn’t care that the fabric she’d used to recover the chair he was sitting in was twenty-five dollars a yard retail. “How may I help you?”

“I don’t know where to begin. Jeez, I feel kind of like a dork.” He sighed. “Just a little while ago I was full of bravado, and now all I want to do is curl up in your lap and tell you my troubles. I’ve never done this before. With other shifters, I mean.”

Lyra chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Our inn is one of the very few that caters exclusively to our kind. We provide an environment that is unique, and, may I say, unrivaled on the east coast. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay.”

She sounded just like the brochure. Well, she should—she’d written every word.

“No. I mean, really. I’ve never done this. Spent time with other cats. I don’t know the procedures. The drill. The routine.”

My God, he was babbling. Both of Lyra’s golden eyebrows rose. “I don’t understand.”

“Look, I was adopted. I discovered my nature kind of by accident and I tried to subdue it. I mean, I’ve shifted a bunch of times, but never when anyone was around.”

Suddenly, the skin on the back of Lyra’s neck prickled. If she’d been in cougar mode, her fur would be stiff with suspicion. What if this Ben guy was some sort of plant, a reporter or something? Sure, he smelled absolutely delicious, and earlier she had the urge to run her tongue against his throat , but what if her senses were somehow off? She stood up.

“We can cover the procedures, as you call them, over lunch.”

“Wait. I’ve pissed you off. I didn’t mean to. You’re the first actual shifter I’ve ever talked to in person. I won’t tell you of my lame forays into the Frisky Felines chatroom. Bullshit is bullshit whether you’re a human or a cat.”

“Ever?” Lyra sat back down.

Ben nodded. “Ever.”

By the Goddesses Bast and Sehkmet, it wasn’t possible.

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