The door swung open, and my mate stepped inside wearing a black leather jacket that fit perfectly across his wide chest and shoulders. His blue jeans hugged his body like a second skin, and the black boots he wore made him look so sexy I found myself growing hard just from staring at him.
He was taller than me, though, not by much, possibly an inch or two. In human form, he had thick black hair and the darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen. As a unicorn, he was much more colorful—pure white with a rainbow mane and tail. His spiral unicorn horn of the same colors sparkled under the moonlight. In either form, Romeo Harmon was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was absolutely smitten with my mate. The moment he shut the front door and lifted his face to take a whiff of the food I’d cooked for him, his gorgeous face split with a massive grin.
“You cooked for me?”
I walked toward him and held out my arms, sliding them around his back, and clasping him tightly as he met me halfway across the living room.
“I made lasagna. I hope you’re hungry,” I whispered, my mouth hovering a half inch from his lips. I could smell a combination of mint gum and coffee, but it was the stench of werewolf and death that made me lean back in his arms and study his face. I frowned. “Where were you?”
Romeo sighed and dropped his hands from my ass. It was the place his hands went naturally whenever we hugged like this. He began shrugging out of his jacket and when he dropped it over the back of my couch and squatted to begin untying his boots, he glanced up at me.
“You smell it on me, huh? The crime scene?”
My eyes widened, and I squatted in front of him, reaching for his shoulders first and then his cheeks. “What crime scene, Romeo? Tell me what happened.”
“What do your senses pick up?”
He tested me like this a lot. At first it had been because he had a fascination with the supernatural. But later on, I’d realized he was still honing his own senses and trying to work out if there were any shortcuts to figuring out his life as a paranormal creature. His unicorn ancestry had been buried for centuries, and he was still getting accustomed to being a shifter even though he was probably the most powerful supernatural being in the world.
“I smell death, though, not recent, and there is a hint of werewolf on your clothes. It’s not recent either.” I wrinkled my nose. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have the overwhelming urge to burn everything you’re wearing right now.”