Blackfoot Forest Downtown

"Pure as the driven snow," she said with a small rise of her brow and the most delicate sniffle of disproval she could manage. "I don't suppose you know of any handsome Devils that might attempt to woo them off me though? It's been a long while since someone's tried complimenting their way into my good graces."
 
Pure bollocks of course. She'd had her flag captured within the couple of days that followed their first birthday. It was a stellar life lesson: don't try to discard your tender virginity a few yards from the pack's camping site where you can't even curse to yourself when the real deal started. The conclusion had settled her into the dirty flirty zone; she wasn't beyond a quick fling in the bushes anymore (and she'd curse if she wanted to dammit).
 
But Aaron, in all his sentimental regard of having a baby sister, was in no way prepared to learn of the dubious deeds she'd preformed away from his tender eyes. And she had no intention of letting him discover otherwise.