Amaryllis
Rorick stood in the middle of the small studio apartment next to the little kitchen table that sat as a divider from the kitchen to what was the living room. The lights in the city were almost sparkling through the window behind him as he finished drying his hair and tied it back once more. That signature grin of his was already curling the sides of his mouth like the cat that ate the canary, or wolf stalking his next meal.
“Still hungry for a bite?” He asked as he tossed the used towel on the table. Something about his easy question had me dropping my guard around him. Lately he had me bouncing back and forth from pissed off, to comfortable, to cautious, to…well horny. I eyed him warily as I looked at his outfit. Tight T-shirt, jeans ,and sturdy boots. He looked delicious. He
