Okay, too much information. Her head was seriously starting to spin. “How can they all be real?” Hushed words. It was too wild, too—

“I’m real.” A shrug. “They’re real, too. And the ones I’ve told you about, well, that’s just the tip of the supernatural iceberg.”

And she was the Titanic, going down, fast. Miranda took a deep breath. She needed to focus. At that moment, she didn’t want to find out about every supernatural creature that was strolling around the earth.

She wanted to know about Cain. “A shifter,” she repeated quietly, turning the topic back to him. She’d already seen his face change a bit. “What kind of animal do you become?” When he’d attacked the vampire, he’d looked positively predatory. His cheekbones had sharpened. Eyes glowed. “A wolf?” Jesus, like a werewolf?

He threw back his head and laughed at that. “Ah, baby, relax. I’m not one of those psychotics.”

So the wolves were psychotic. Nice mental note for her. She took another step toward him. Her body hovered over the couch now. Just a foot or two away from him. Cain was close enough to touch.

And she did want to touch.

Her gaze swept down his body. Over the sculpted muscles of his chest. Down the rock-hard abs. Over the material of his boxers, material that was stretched tight to accommodate his thick arousal.

Her nipples tightened as a wave of yearning swept through her. She’d felt that arousal last night, but the barrier of the clothes had been between them, as it was now.

Miranda didn’t want anything between them.

“You looking to walk on the wild side tonight?” His voice snapped like a whip.

Her stare jerked back to his. Found him glaring at her. “Cain . . .”

“You come out here, wearing a shirt that’s so thin it shows your nipples, your sex smelling so good that it makes me ache, and then you look at me like you could eat me alive.”

Because she could. Or she wanted to try.

Hell, she was scared. Not of him, but of the world she was suddenly discovering around her.

Yet more than her fear, she needed.

Yearned. For him.

Shifter.

“Go back to your room,” he ordered, and she saw his fingers dig into the cushions of the couch. “It’s not time to play with the animals.”

Okay, now he was pissing her off. She reached out, touched that golden skin, and trailed her fingers down his chest. “I don’t see an animal. Just a man.” The sexiest man she’d ever come across. A man who had her aching inside.

“I’m both, Miranda. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I’m not.”

A warning, clear and simple. One that she was going to ignore.

She lowered her body over his, placing her thighs on either side of his legs so that she could straddle him. Theposition put her face close to his and had her sex brushing against the hard cradle of his erection.

She curled both of her hands over his shoulders. Jeez, the man was warm. “I’ve been in my room, thinking about you.” But he knew that. He knew she wanted him. Miranda brushed her lips over his. “Have you been thinking about me?”

He moved in a blur. Cain lifted her, spun around, and before Miranda could even gasp out a breath, she found herself flat on the cushions of the couch. Cain leaned over her, his face hard and lust shining in his eyes. “Don’t fucking tease me. If you yank a cat’s tail, you will get bitten.” His teeth came together with a snap.

“I’ve already been bitten once,” she said, rising up on her elbows. “Wasn’t to my liking.”

“You weren’t bitten by me.” Then his mouth was on hers. Tongue thrusting. Lips pressing. Taking. Devouring.

And the lust she’d felt all night went from a flame to a blaze.

She met the kiss full force, loving the slightly wild taste of the man. Her mouth was frantic on his, demanding—a perfect match for his kiss.

When his head lifted, when his eyes gazed down at her with that soft shine, she knew what was coming even before he spoke.

“Your choice.”

She’d made her choice.

“You can run back to your room, lock the door again, and forget about tangling with someone like me.” His head lowered toward the crook of her neck and he inhaled deeply, drawing in a long gulp of air as he caught her scent. “Or you can stay, and I’ll take you, and show you just how powerful sex with a shifter can be.”

Like she was going to be able to walk away from that offer.

Grandma Belle hadn’t raised a fool.

Her fingers trailed over his chest. Paused over his heart, feeling the hard and fast rhythm beneath her hand. “I’m not running anywhere, not tonight.” She was exactly where she wanted to be.

Tonight she was with the right man. Her body knew it. It was responding completely to him. Softening, moistening. Her breasts aching. Hips arching. Readying.

For him.

Only him.

The smile that twisted his lips could only be called feral. “You were warned, baby.” Then he lifted his hand, eased it between their bodies, and with one swipe of his fingertip—no, his claw—he cut the T-shirt she’d been wearing in half. The edges slid open, and her breasts tightened at the sudden rush of air.

“So damn pretty. Pink and round, just waiting for my mouth.” His breath feathered over her sensitive flesh seconds before his lips closed over her right nipple. His mouth was warm, wet, and he knew just how to stroke her with his lips and his tongue. Soft caresses. Hard licks. A suckle that had her back arching and her breath hissing out.