Chasing Scarlett: A Breeder Romance
Obsidian eyes lock onto mine and he pauses, the expression so human for a being that is far from it.
I watch Riordan, all six-foot seven inches mass of thick muscles and brute strength, stand in my kitchen, wearing a freaking apron—he looks so damn sinful in that—and he watches me in turn, taking me in from head to toe like he is unable to look away from me, who resembles a drowned rat.
And for the first time, Riordan smiles, firm, full lips parting to reveal a perfect set of teeth and I’ve never seen fangs looks so attractive, yet dangerous. “Hey. You hungry?”