Dakota’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” The gold of his wolf eyes flashed. “Exactly what I should have done days ago.” Dakota inhaled a sharp breath. From the dark look in his eyes, she almost expected him to strip the belt from his jeans and use it to make the bare skin of her ass a dusky shade of pink. The thought of her bent over his knee sent an unexpected wave of heat through her core. Her mouth went dry as adrenaline coursed through her. “Blaze?” she breathed again, prompting more from his non-answer. His chaps and belt were cast aside now along with his Stetson. The shirt came next. “Showering,” he ground out. His tone was harsher, more hardened than usual. She didn’t exactly dislike it. “Exactly like you are,” he growled. “What else?” He turned on one of the showerheads in the adjacent stall block facing her. Another cloud of steam filled the room. “Here?” she nearly squeaked. “What?” he snapped. “We’re both warriors, coworkers as you put it, and I may not be as drenched as your clothes were, but we’re both covered in blood.” His shirt was on the floor now, and those large…
