Dylan wove his fingers through her hair, loosening it until it spilled over his hands, and he covered her mouth with his.

Glory rose into the kiss, excitement pumping through her. No one could screw like Dylan could. And Dylan surpassed even himself when he was pissed off and warring with his dominant instincts.

She decided not to fight too hard when Dylan lifted her and deposited her on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his hips, unbuttoned his pants, and leaned back to enjoy herself.

Chapter Nine

Liam was wrenched out of sleep the next morning by Kim banging on the attic door and shouting his name. His instincts had him on his feet and wrenching open the door before his brain even knew he was awake.

He found Kim in the hall, her eyes blazing, in a big black T-shirt with a Guinness logo on it. Kim had obviously slept in the rumpled T-shirt, which she must have found in Liam’s dresser drawer. Liam knew she’d be warm and very naked beneath it, and then he realized he was naked himself, prepared to shift.

One part of him was shifting already. “Gods, Kim, why are you out here yelling like a banshee?”

Kim held up a small bit of satin fabric, her eyes wide with fury. “Who packed this? It was a man, wasn’t it?”

“Probably. Why?”

She shook the red satin patch. “This is a thong. Have you ever worn a thong? Do you know how it feels to have a string up your ass all day?”

Liam sensed the rest of his family listening: Connor sitting up in bed behind him, Sean in the hall below, Dylan behind him in the same clothes he’d worn last night, which meant he’d slept next door.

“What’s wrong with a thong?” Liam asked her. “I bet it’s sexy on you.” He pictured it, and immediately clamped down on his imagination. Gods.

“Oh, right,” Kim said. “I’m standing in a courtroom, trying to think on my feet while the prosecution is laughing its butt off at me, but that’s all right—at least my underwear is sexy.”

Liam leaned on his arm, trying hard not to laugh. He heard Dylan retreat, quietly, into his bedroom. Sean, too, departed, chuckling. Connor folded his arms around his knees, watching this female display in puzzlement.

“Why do you have them, then?” Liam asked.

“Friends buy them for me, all right?” Kim snapped.

“And you hang on to them?”

“I don’t want to hurt their feelings. They think they’re doing me a favor.”

Liam let his grin break through. “They think it’s a favor to let you…how did you put it…wear a string up your ass all day?”

Kim rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I’m taking a shower and going home. You got rid of the feral Shifter, so it’s not like he’s coming back. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

Liam felt Connor’s tension behind him, his troubled worry. Liam relaxed his stance to try to convey to Connor that everything was under control. Right. “Kim, love, I’ll make you breakfast, and you write out a list of what you need. I’ll send someone ’round to retrieve it all for you. Someone female this time. How will that be with you?”

Kim planted her fists on her hips. She shouldn’t have done that; the movement thrust out her br**sts and let the T-shirt outline her ni**les. “Are you still insisting that you won’t let me leave?”

“Not yet. It’s not safe.”

“It’s perfectly safe. The feral Shifter is dead, and you had the lock on my door fixed. Make your damn pancakes if you want to, and then I’m leaving. I won’t tell anyone what happened last night or repeat what you told me about the Collars. I know how to keep a secret, all right? And you can just get over it.”

She stomped back down the stairs and slammed her own door so hard the sturdy walls rattled. Liam sensed her beneath the boards at his feet—her rage; her frustration; her warm, pliant body filling out his shirt. Her closed door would be no barrier to him if he chose to charge in and confront her.

Connor was watching Liam with concern. “What are you going to do?”

He meant, was Liam going to subdue her, and would he hurt Kim doing it? Connor was young, still uncomfortable with his own instincts, not yet certain where he fit in the clan and pride hierarchies. Things were more difficult for him than they had been for Liam or Sean, because Connor had grown up a captive Shifter, and boundaries were fuzzier now than they’d been in the wild. Connor didn’t yet understand when you showed dominance and when you tolerated, and what you tolerated. Plus, he’d been raised by mateless males and had never seen an example of an intimate relationship.

Not that anything Liam had with Kim was going to be straightforward. Educational, maybe. Straightforward, no.

Liam tamped down his own instincts, dousing the pheromones that were putting Connor on edge. “What am I going to do?” He shrugged and headed for the attic bathroom. “What she asked me to. I’m going to make her pancakes.”

Kim descended to the kitchen, showered but still irritated. Liam’s friends had packed not only the underwear she never wore, but also her shortest skirts and lowest-cut tops, a garter belt, and a bunch of stockings. Nothing remotely comfortable, not even shorts and sandals for surviving Austin in the summer.

She paused at the kitchen doorway, surprise cutting through her annoyance. Liam in a tight T-shirt and jeans, spatula in hand, glared at a griddle full of pancakes. Behind him in the narrow kitchen, Sean scrubbed dishes in the sink.

Every woman’s dream—two gorgeous men in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning.