Master of Smoke

just ... drop that subject. What do you want me to call you?”
    He looked as if he was considering saying something outrageous.
    “Give me a serious answer, dammit.” She really needed to dial back the bitch. “Please.”
    “I have no idea. What would you like to call me?”
    Clark? Bruce? Peter? And what did it say about her that all the names that sprang to mind belonged to comic book characters? I am such a geekizoid.
    Maybe David. She couldn’t think of a comic book character named David. And he did look like something sculpted by Michelangelo—big, hard, and very, very naked. “How about David?”
    He gave it some thought and a regal nod. “That will do.”
    “Glad you approve.”

    The Drayton Apartments were a cluster of six beige three-story buildings surrounded by azalea bushes and Bradford pear trees, all of which were currently in gorgeous bloom. Its residents included college students, new families saving for a first house, and one or two assholes.
    And a werewolf.
    Eva parked in her assigned spot in front of Building Five. “Wait here. I’m going to go get you something to wear up the stairs.” Before he could ask—and she knew he would—she explained, “Kids live here, too. I don’t want one of them to look out a window and see you walking around nekkid.”
    David frowned, but before he could question her further, she opened the car door and bolted up the wooden stairs.
    Eva lived in a two-bedroom on the second floor. Fortunately, her ex-boyfriend Joel had left behind a pair of ratty jeans and ancient running shoes he’d never returned to collect. He was a couple of inches shorter than David, but with any luck, the pants would fit. Probably not well, but they just needed something to cover that gorgeous ass until they could buy something better.
    Though Fluffy liked his gorgeous ass just the way it was—buck naked so she could eye it lovingly. And drool a little. She’d especially been looking forward to watching him walk up the stairs. Preferably in slow motion with George Michael crooning “I Want Your Sex” in the background.
    Fluffy had never grasped the concept of shame.
    Eva found the jeans and shoes in the back of a closet and rounded out the set with an oversized Comix Cave T-shirt she often slept in.
    She trotted downstairs with her prizes and handed them through the passenger window. David shot her a lifted eyebrow and started trying to squeeze his big body into the clothes. Eva turned her back and directed her gaze elsewhere.
    Fluffy gave her a disappointed mental grumble.
    Finally the car door opened. Eva turned as David got out to stand oddly hunched. “They do not fit,” he gritted.
    Frowning, she looked down the length of his body. As she’d expected, the hem of the jeans fell well short of his ankles, but Joel was a fairly muscular guy. The jeans were certainly very tight, but ...
    Oh.
    David glowered at her as he tugged at the crotch of his pants. The fabric clearly outlined three large, interesting shapes that looked more than a little squashed. “They are digging into my genitals.”
    She bit her lower lip to keep from snickering at his disgruntled expression. “I’m sorry. We’ll head to Wal-Mart in the morning and buy something that fits better. But you can’t go around naked. You’d scandalize the neighbors and get arrested.”
    He growled, sounding more like a very large, wet cat than anything human. Turning, he limped up the stairs. Apparently Joel’s shoes didn’t fit him all that well either.
    Eva clattered after him. She tried, she really did, but she just couldn’t keep herself from watching his ass in those skin-tight jeans. It was a view to make a nun hyperventilate.
    Fluffy started humming “I Want Your Sex.”

    The only thing David knew was that he wanted her. Otherwise his mind felt as blasted as a bombed-out building—nothing but dust and mental rubble. When he contemplated the aching gaps in his memory, panic rose. He didn’t care for panic.
    Much better to contemplate Eva’s lush little body. As they reached the top of the stairs, she slipped past him to unlock a door with a musical jangle of keys. He followed her into her home, admiring the roll of her tight little derriere.
    Tearing his gaze from her backside, David scanned the apartment, searching for exits and vulnerabilities. A glass door lay off to the right, across the small living room. He glowered at it in disapproval. His enemy would go through that like a bear ripping