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She canted her head. “You seriously don’t recognize me?”
Shit. She was from his pack. And no, he didn’t recognize her. Well, sort of. He had the sense that his shifter did, and his body most certainly wanted her, but he honestly had no idea who she was.
“Winona. Winona Orso,” she bit off.
He stared at her. “No way.”
Now that she’d said it, he did see it. Definitely in the eyes—he remembered Winona’s big, all-too-knowing eyes, even when she’d been a cub, always underfoot, irritating the hell out of him and his friends. She was five years younger than him, which meant she’d been thirteen when he left the pack. On the verge of her first shift. When he left, she’d still been a child.
Now, she was all woman. And he’d just seen her naked.
His dick wanted to again. Hell, his entire body wanted her naked again. His entire being.
He grasped the back of his neck. “Winnie the Pooh is all grown up.” He didn’t even bother fighting the grin.
“Call me that again and I’ll show you just how grown up I am.”
“Is that a promise?” For f*ck’s sake, he wasn’t seriously flirting with Winona, was he?