Clara's POV
I shook my head, trying to clear the memory of his touch, his taste, his growled promises. This was ridiculous. I needed to get my s**t together.
My legs still felt wobbly as I made my way back to my room. A hot shower would help—would wash away his scent from my skin and hopefully clear my head. I stripped and stepped under the steaming water, but even as I scrubbed every inch of my body, I couldn't erase the phantom sensation of his hands.
Once dressed in fresh clothes, I tried to focus on practical matters. Breakfast first, then maybe I could convince someone to let me explore the pack grounds. I was tired of being cooped up, treated like a suspicious outsider. I needed air. Space. Something to distract me from thoughts of amber eyes and hungry kisses.
Damn it, I didn't
