Chapter 12

Another somewhat restless night followed, sleeping next to the gorgeous Brigitte, waking up curled against her perfect form, my arm thrown around her waist, nuzzled against her back. I pretended I was still asleep so I didn’t have to move. I heard Conor whimper downstairs, and Brigitte immediately leaped from the bed, though she didn’t grab her gun.

“He’s here,” is all she said.

“Quinn?”

“Yes.”

I had pajamas on, so I didn’t bother trying to dress, but followed Brigitte downstairs where Conor had shifted and was letting someone in the door, Quinn, I imagined.

Quinn was even taller than Conor, more muscular, dark and brooding. He had a scar, which must have been caused by silver, the first scar I’d seen on a werewolf. He smiled at Brigitte.

“Good, you’re naked. On all fours, bitch,” he ordered, releasing his heavy, nine inch cock from his pants.

Brigitte dropped to her hands and knees and presented her backside to Quinn. What followed was near