No Way (Claws Clause 1.75)

He jerked his head. A nod.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’ll tell my boss you said so.”

“It’s worth every penny he charges. You can tell him that, too.”

Another nod. “Where would you like me to put this?”

“You can leave it right there. Thanks. Now, about payment—” she began.

Drop it off, get the check, get out of there. Drop it off—

“I’m here to deliver this to you. That means you tell me where you want it and I make sure it gets there. It’s part of my boss’s service,” he added, lying through his pointy teeth.

It was totally a lie. Not only was he continuing to let her believe that Colt’s business wasn’t a one-shifter operation, but he certainly never troubled himself to get his deliveries any further than the doorstep.

He couldn’t help himself, though. She was small and the dresser was heavy. He was a shifter, but he wasn’t a monster.

So distracted by this urge he had to prove it to his client, Colt forgot that he was using the dolly to put her at ease. The shop was cramped and full of way too many scents that were still overpowering hers. He didn’t want to risk pushing the wide, metal contraption through her store. Wrapping his arms around the top of the tall dresser, Colt hefted it up easily.

“You tell me where to deliver it. I’ll deliver it.”

“Really?” Her whole face lit up in gratitude. “Thank you so much. I actually had someone who promised to help me move it in, but he’s kinda busy at the moment. This is such a big help and—”

The way Shea said he echoing in Colt’s ears, he snapped, “Where exactly do you want the dresser, Ms. Moonshadow?”

Shit. Could he sound any less friendly if he tried?

She didn’t seem to mind—or maybe she just didn’t notice. With her scent eerily missing, Colt couldn’t use it to gauge her emotions like he normally would. He had to rely on reading her expression.

Luckily for him, she seemed the type of human who wore it all on her face. With a sheepish look, she said, “Oh. Sorry. Um, I guess right over there would be great.”

“Where?”

“Over there.” Squeezing past him, Shea laid one hand on his right forearm, pointing across the shop at a bare space with the other.

It happened in a heartbeat. With the next pump of fresh blood, it immediately started to head south. His limp cock pulsed, then it twitched, before it started to swell. Within seconds, it was halfway to becoming a full erection.

Colt’s first.

Sudden pleasure mingled with surprise as elation shot right through him. Her fingertips, so light, so soft, were still grazing the side of his arm as he jolted like he’d been zapped by a hundred volts of electricity.

He couldn’t control the spasm. In his daze, he didn’t even understand at first what was going on with his body. He lost any control he had as he jerked away from her at the same time as he let go of his hold on the dresser.

Crunch!

A howl tore out of his throat as every bone in his left ankle simply shattered.

“Oh, Goddess, no. Are you alright?”

He should’ve been. Normally, with his shifter reflexes and his strength, the worst thing that could’ve happened would’ve been that he stumbled away from her, then shoved the heavy dresser away from his body. But then he might’ve accidentally tossed it toward her and, yeah, there was no way he could have allowed that to happen on the heels of his undeniable proof.

So, instead, Colt dropped the dresser—right on top of him.

One good thing about the sharp, shooting, throbbing pain announcing his broken ankle? It momentarily distracted him from the aching, heavy cock making itself known.

She was close. Too close. The homey, woodsy note in her muted scent flared as she tried to get a better look at his busted ankle. She side-stepped the discarded dresser—that, thankfully, was still in one piece… unlike Colt’s ankle—bending low so that she could get a good look at his injury.