Curse of the Wolves
Better to not have to explain why my body looked like it had gone through a Cricut.
I set to work removing my own pants and walked them over to where Azrael’s sat. When I turned around, I found myself face-to-face with the shirtless god. Since I was the newly appointed spokesperson for self-control, I didn’t so much as glance at his bare chest.
Okay, that was a lie. I glanced, I drooled, and I blushed. Sue me.
Azrael pouted, “You’re still wearing your shirt.”
I planted my hands on my hips, more than willing to fight him on this. “Yeah, and it’s going to stay that way.”
Hot Chapters