“If you stay too long, Addison, then I can’t ever let you leave. If Shifter Bureau catches you, they won’t let up on you. They’ll keep at you until you tell them everything about me.”

“Fine then,” Addison said. “I won’t leave.”

Kendrick’s grip tightened. “If you stay with me, your greatest danger is from me. You need to understand that.”

“Because you can change into a big tiger and take me out with one paw?” Her smile came. “I’ll risk it.”

Kendrick’s blood fired. “It’s more than that, Addison. It’s so much more than that.”

“Oh?” Addison’s tone sharpened with curiosity and behind that, excitement. “What exactly do you mean, then?”

“Damn it.”

Kendrick’s words turned to a growl. His hands began to change, claws extending from fingers that turned furry. The claws snagged the material of the T-shirt on her shoulders and tore through it.

Kendrick never broke her skin. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, and when to stop.

He was hot, his blood beginning to sear. He felt as though he’d run too long, oxygen squeezing out of him and leaving him breathless.

He brought his claws down the front of the shirt, ripping it away. No thought about how she’d get back to the house with her clothes in shreds crossed his mind. At the moment, Kendrick didn’t care.

Addison drew a quick breath, her curiosity changing to surprise but not fear. Her lips parted, became moist, as Kendrick’s claws receded, his hands became fully a man’s, and he dragged his fingers down the shirt, pulling it away.

Her bra beneath was a neutral-colored satin with a white bow, cupping her full breasts like loving hands. The bra was too dull for her, too thick and masking. Kendrick would buy her beautiful lingerie—he had vague visions of floating white, red, or black fabric that enhanced rather than hid her.

Addison made a small noise when he tore open the bra, pulling it away to free the fullness of her.

This is what Kendrick wanted to see—Addison the woman, no cloaking herself in awkward clothes, no effacing herself so she could make a living. She had round, full breasts, as he’d felt last night, the tips dusky pink, rising with her intake of breath.

Kendrick changed his touch to a tender one, cupping her with his palms where the bra had. Addison leaned into him, her eyes half closing.

Hell. Kendrick brought his thumbs up to touch her nipples, a shudder going through him at the hot softness of her skin. I need this.

He found himself dropping to his knees before he consciously decided to, the last remnants of the shirt she’d borrowed from him falling at his touch.

Kendrick pressed a long kiss to her belly, and her hands came around him to cradle his head, fingers stroking his hair.

“Your beauty blasts from you,” he whispered into her skin. “It cuts me.”

“I’m a waitress who needs to eat less pie,” Addison answered. Her supple abdomen moved with her laughter.

“It hurt me.” Kendrick pressed another kiss to her stomach, licking where his lips touched. “I told myself never to go back after I first saw you, but I couldn’t stop. I had to see you every night, just to look at you.”

“And here I thought you really liked the apple streusel. I can make some for you, if Charlie has the ingredients.”

“Stop.” Kendrick nipped her skin, then licked her again. He couldn’t cease tasting her. “Stop making this a joke. I brought you into danger, because I couldn’t deny myself. You call to me.”

Addison stroked his hair once more, fingers languid. “I can’t help making jokes. It’s how I deal with stress.”