(Featured in Werewolf)
Parker Westwood is well on her way to qualifying for the US woman's gymnastics team. Determined to be on that podium in red white and blue with a gold medal around her neck. She could do it too but the Phoenix Basin pack has...
Update!!!!! Cheers all around. Things are getting crazy but I wont ruin it for you.
Happy Reading.
Love NJ Kuhr XOXO
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When it happened I thought it was me and I wasn't the only one. For about ten seconds everyone thought it was me. My panic attacks were getting fewer and farther between. The pack had never made me feel guilty or weak for them. They would send me strength and encouragement if I needed it. Only this time I wasn't the one who needed it.
Standing in the pack house at the large sturdy hard wood table I was going over one of Bash's designs for a prototype flak jacket. It would be tested in the military first before law enforcement. I was wearing one of his heavy duty vest that he wanted tested and ready for Navy Seals before the end of the year.
He wanted them to be more flexible without compromising the strength or ability to deflect a bullet. As far as he was concerned the best functional way to test flexibility was make me wear it. His reasoning was sound but I was certain he just wanted to see me in a flak jacket, and not just any flak jacket but the one he designed himself. Men were weird.
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The jacket was heavy, bulky and stiff, not to mention it was very tight but because it was Bash's I only felt wanted and his. I was his to protect and nothing could make you feel more protected than wearing a bulletproof, knife proof, modern day suit of armor. Knowing Bash it was probably anti-tank, had some fancy tech that made it anti-heat seeking missile, anti-werewolf, turned the wearer invisible and got HBO but what did I know.
None of these things mattered to me. I was wearing something that belonged to Bash, something he cared about. This was better than wearing one of his shirts... well maybe. Wearing one of his shirts would be pretty good too.
At first I felt rather silly bending and stretching, doing backflips and any odd configuration I could come up with to find were it restricted movement. It made it difficult to bend, leaning at the ribs and if I bent over the thick pads hit the junction between the top of my thighs and my waist.
"It makes it hard for me to touch my toes." I said upside down, my strawberry blond hair trailing along the floor as I tucked my hands under the arches of my feet and pulled. "The bottom digs into my hips so I don't have full range of motion. I don't know if your Seals will need that much flexibility though. Can they even touch their toes? A seam here would allow you to make the jackets longer and protect the upper thighs but might compromise the bulletproof thing unless you can make a hinge that's as resistant as the vest."
"Mmm." Was all I got from him. I turned my head still bent over to see him leaning against the table, arms and ankles crossed, looking at a part of my body that wasn't covered in Kevlar.
