He wore no underwear at all.

Caitlin and Rebecca screamed in delight. Andrea remained silent, but her heart pounded so hard she heard a rushing sound in her ears.

Sunshine touched a backside that was slightly paler than the rest of Sean but still tanned. He must expose his entire body from time to time, probably right after he shifted. Sweet thought. Andrea wanted to leap down and bite that firm, bare ass, nip it, taste it.

The show lasted only a few seconds before Sean pulled up his jeans again. “You all lose,” he said as he buckled his belt. “Satisfied?”

Rebecca ran her tongue over her lips. “Oh, I might be satisfied for the rest of the week.” She turned away and walked on, her low laughter drifting behind her.

Caitlin lingered awhile, all but rubbing herself on the porch railings as she cooed at him, but Sean switched his entire focus to the bike and paid no attention. Playtime over. Caitlin evidently didn’t like being ignored, so she said a sugary good-bye and waltzed back into her house.

Andrea lifted herself from the porch and made her way down to Sean’s driveway. Her body was shaking and hot, but she pretended coolness as she stuck her hands into her back pockets and watched him work.

“Is it a Feline thing?” she asked. “Going commando?”

Sean kept tinkering. “No, it’s a ‘no clean laundry’ thing.”

Andrea tried a grin, but her heart was still pounding. “What, won’t Kim wash the big, bad alpha’s underwear?”

“She’s a modern woman, Kim is. Which means she’ll look after her mate but not his good-for-nothing brother. She makes Connor do his own laundry too. Says it builds character.”

“She makes you males work the washing machine? That must be something to see.”

“Oh, I know how to,” Sean said, still not looking away from his task. “I just forgot to.”

Andrea leaned down, hands on her knees, and got lost in watching the muscles in his arms work as he tried to wrest a stubborn bolt loose. He smelled like sunshine and dust, and she didn’t blame Caitlin and Rebecca for wanting to grab him and haul him off.

“While you’re standing there all pretty,” Sean said, grunting with effort, “will you come down here and grab on to this stiff thing for me?”

Rowr. Hot words to make her hot. I’ll hold anything you want me to, Sean Morrissey.

She crouched down. “To what?”

The glint in his eyes told her he’d phrased the question that way on purpose. “Right here.” He steered her hand to the handle of a wrench that was closed around the bolt. “Just keep a grip on it, and don’t let go.”

Andrea touched her tongue to her lip. “You’d be amazed at what a tight grip I have.”

Sean growled low in his throat. “You walk the edge, Andy-girl.”

She did, and Sean always made her want to leap right over it—to land right on top of him. He steadied her hand again with his strong one, and she held the wrench as he loosened a piece beneath it. The whole assembly came out, Sean and Andrea lifting it away together.

Nice. Sean’s face hung near to hers, a smudge of grease on his cheek. He smelled of sweat and bike grease, the outdoors, and all she could think of was the sunshine kissing his sweet backside.

Sean set the piece aside. He started to reach for the next thing he wanted to yank off, but Andrea touched his shoulder. Sean turned back to her, his breath on her face, eyes darkening.

Andrea was never sure who leaned forward first, but she was melting toward him and, next thing she knew, felt the scalding pressure of Sean’s mouth on hers. He kissed with strength, barely masking his power, and Andrea closed her eyes and drank it in. His hand stole to the back of her neck, arching her up to savor more of her.

“Come inside with me,” he whispered against her mouth, and she tasted his breath. “You can make sure I wash my underwear. How’s that?”

She wanted to; oh, she wanted to. No one was home, and they could explore what they’d started. More kissing, more touching, and Andrea could slide her hands into his jeans and cup his firm, sun-touched backside.

She pulled away slightly. He watched her, wanting and yet cautious, trying not to scare her. That worry for her twisted her heart around, and at the same time, she wanted to lick the moisture from between his lips.

“Your pants are vibrating,” she whispered.

“What?” Sean jerked. “Aw, damn it.” Andrea watched with amusement as Sean unfolded to his feet and yanked his cell phone from its holder.

As she rose with him, she heard the grating tones of Sean’s father, Dylan, come clearly over the line.

“Son,” he rumbled. “Fetch the sword. You’re needed.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The warmth and vibrancy drained from Sean’s eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He clicked off the phone, looking grim.

“What is it?” Andrea asked. “What’s happened?”

Sean shoved the phone back into its holder. “My cousin Ely in San Antonio. Another drive-by shooting. Dad says he’s still alive, but ...” The way Sean trailed off said it all. “He’s asking for the Guardian.”

The darkness Andrea sensed in Sean came forward with a vengeance. His smiles were gone, as was the charming lilt with which he’d asked her to go inside with him. Then he’d sounded like a warm man seeking pleasure on a sunny morning; now he was the cold man who’d looked upon so much death.

“Sean, I’m sorry.” Andrea rubbed his tight forearm. “I don’t understand, though. The San Antonio Shiftertown has a Guardian, doesn’t it? I thought the humans made each Shiftertown use its own.”