Ayda’s POV

“You are,” I said, huffing, the rawhide chest protector chafing my skin horrifically even with the shirt he’d loaned me, “a terrible man. Have I told you that?”

“You may have,” Sebastian passed me his waterskin looking unbothered in his casual clothes, olive skin aglow from the exhilaration.

His hair was completely devoid of any product, left wild and free to curl around the masculine richness ...