Page 71 of A Taste of Torment
His hand tightens on my thigh. I’m not sure what to make of the turn in conversation.
“Was he lonely before?” I ask.
“I suspect he likes his solitude. But we enjoy seeing him come out of his shell.”
“Some were beginning to suspect I prefer men,” Jarron tells me.
“Oh,” I say stupidly.
“In truth, if I did prefer men, I wouldn’t be bashful about it.”
“Turns out he just prefershumans,” a shifter behind us says then howls in laughter. I tense in Jarron’s lap. He squeezes me tighter.
“Or perhaps he prefers non-douche bags,” I say, quieter than I’d have liked.
Jarron’s lips graze my shoulder, as he chuckles. “I quite agree.”
“Busybodies, the lot of ’em,” Manuela says. “Curiosity is a hard habit to quit, though.”
I meet her stare. “Maybe so, but it doesn’t need to be voiced.”
Eventually, Jarron and I head outside, where it’s a bit quieter and I ask him about the redheaded shifter female. He explains that Lucille is indeed strong and every wolf would give his tail to be with her. She doesn’t like to be around the shifters at school very often because they tend to annoy her with their attempts to woo her.
He runs his fingers down my back slowly. “Would you like another?”
“Huh?” I squeak, distracted by the sensations.
“Drink?” he purrs. “Would you like another drink?”
Oh, right. “No. I’m good for the night.”
“Thought that potion was supposed to loosen humans up,” a wolf jokes. “She still seems so uptight.”
My stomach sinks. Am I ruining this?
Jarron leans in close until his lips are at my ear. “You have nothing to prove to them.”
“This is the same reason I never partied even at human schools,” I say.
“Oh?”
“Introverts are always misunderstood.” I shrug. “And when we do try to have fun, boys expect us to act a certain way. Like they want us to perform for them. It’s annoying.”
“Perform?”
“Dance, flirt, laugh, belly shots, flashing.”
Jarron tilts his head. “What is flashing?”
I blush and don’t respond. Does he really not know?
He gently pulls me to face him. “What?”
I cough awkwardly. “Oh, ya know, when a girl lifts her shirt to show...”
His eyebrows rise, but his expression is innocent curiosity. “Show what?”
“Jesus, you really don’t know? Or you’re just messing with me?”
