Ignoring his amusement, I smooth my hair down, trying to ignore the now-uncomfortable mess between my thighs.
Everything's still tingling.
"I can't go there now," I mutter, flashing Logan a dark look. "I'm a mess down there."
Logan holds up his hands, the picture of innocence. "I'm only abiding by the contract."
I roll my eyes, sliding my shoes back on. The forest floor feels unsteady beneath my feet, my legs still wobbly from our encounter. Logan tucks himself back into his jeans, then holds out a hand to me. I hesitate, eyeing it warily. Before I can decide, he grabs my hand anyway, leading me back toward the car.
"Hope the car's safe," he remarks casually.
I can't help but laugh. "What are you worried about?"
Logan shrugs, his grip on my hand firm but not uncomfortable. "It'd be awful if a panther shifter was thrown into my car. Like yours."
