Read How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13) Online
Authors: Dakota Cassidy
Tags: #General Fiction
He nuzzled her hand to show his remorse, waiting for forgiveness.
JC chuckled, the warmth of it slipping into his ears. “You beast. Listen here, Knight in Shining Armor, whatever I put in your bowl is
yours
. If it’s on a plate, you can be pretty sure it’s mine, unless the plate is on the floor. That makes it yours. Got it?”
Well, he couldn’t in all good conscience consent to that, now could he? He was a carnivore. Max avoided her eyes and nuzzled her hand again instead.
She smiled down at him, her blue, almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know, that was some pretty impressive stuff there, Fluff. Very chivalrous of you to sense my discomfort and act on it. Now if only you walked on two legs instead of four, we’d make the perfect couple, don’t you think?”
* * * *
After watching three solid hours of a
Downton Abbey
DVD while sitting at her feet, Max got tired and trotted down to JC’s bedroom, where he sprawled out on her bed, tucking his paws under her pillows.
The blankets were a rumpled mess after he’d given himself a good back scratch, but he’d fully absorbed her sweet smell of sunshine and cinnamon. He lay there for a while, attuning his senses to her unique scent, looking around the room at the pictures on her dresser of her parents and friends, the dozens of shoes lining her open closet.
He’d spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what she looked like in the skimpy, pink, sheer nightgown hanging on the hook inside her closet door.
“Hey.” JC patted his belly. He fought off his lustful thoughts and slowly opened his eyes with a yawn.
“This,” she tapped the bed with a sleepy smile, “is mine, cookie. That,” she pointed to the mat on the floor, “is yours.”
Max lifted his head to see her more clearly. She had a towel wrapped around her head and one wrapped around her body.
Naked…she was naked beneath the blue towel. Steak and a beautiful naked woman he couldn’t touch just yet, all in one night. It was too much.
The gentle swell of her hip brushed against his legs as she sat next to him. Pouring lotion into her hand, JC smoothed it over her calves, working her way up to thighs he just knew were silky-soft.
He sniffed the air. Cucumber-melon. Nice. Her hands made circular motions, rubbing in the cream higher and higher. Lowering the towel, she let it rest at her waist as she dabbed some lotion on her shoulders. Her breasts thrust upward, her taut nipples beading from the cool air.
“Hey, Fluff,” she said.
He turned his head, averting his guilty eyes. “I told you to get on the floor, handsome.” JC stood and pointed again to his “bed.”
Max slunk off the bed, sliding to the floor and curling his big body on the mat.
Letting the towel fall to the floor, JC grabbed her nightgown from the hook inside the closet and slid it over her creamy skin, the glow of the lamp shading her soft contours.
His groin tightened and he tensed at the familiar call of his body to
shift
. He willed his muscles to relax and obey, focusing on remaining in his wolf form. Because shifting could be bad—not to mention traumatizing.
It was all he could do to keep from showing her he was no stray dog from a shelter. But patience was required here. He didn’t understand much more than JC was his prophesized mate, and he was wildly attracted to her. He felt her inside him. He instantly knew her soul.
He’d never believed the stories before. All the mumbo-jumbo about how you
felt
your life mate, like an invisible tether; you were joined and you just knew.
But he believed them now—because he knew.
Now he just had to find a way to get to know the rest of her without scaring the shit out of her. And dying. There was still the damn threat of death hanging over his head.
It wasn’t going to be easy. He couldn’t just say,
“Hey, JC, glad you adopted me at the pound. Thanks for rescuing me from my first round with death. By the way, did I mention I’m not just any wolf? I’m a werewolf.
Your
werewolf, baby. Wanna mate? Because round two with death is coming up.
”
He especially couldn’t say that to a human.
Something he still didn’t understand.
How
could his life mate be a human? Had some of his pack mated with humans and turned them? He’d always been taught that wasn’t allowed. Ever. This hurdle had to have something to do with the curse.
Turning off the bedside lamp, JC scratched his muzzle before climbing over him and getting into bed. Her hand hung down over the edge of the mattress. He licked her palm, savoring the soft texture of her skin on his tongue.
“Night, Fluffy. Welcome home,” she whispered, her sultry voice slicing through the velvety darkness.
Goodnight.
~
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Dakota Cassidy is a
USA Today
bestselling author with over thirty books. She writes laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, grab-some-ice erotic romance, hot and sexy alpha males, paranormal shifters, contemporary kick-ass women, and more.
Dakota was invited by Bravo TV to be the Bravoholic for a week, wherein she snarked the hell out of all the Bravo shows. She received a starred review from Publishers Weekly for
Talk Dirty to Me
, won a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for
Kiss and Hell
, along with many review site recommended reads and reviewer top pick awards.
Dakota lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!
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I
never imagined that I would actually look forward to boredom. I’m not talking about that slightly bored, Sunday afternoon, magical feeling of nothing better to do kind. No, I’m talking a good week’s worth of pure lethargic, sluggish bliss that would make a two-toed sloth look like a highly motivated Tony Robbins devotee. I wanted an endless cycle of read, eat, nap, write, and repeat. All things considered, I justifiably hoped for it. I needed a break. My sanity needed some time to recover. Up to this point, my summer had been a string of no-holds-barred supernatural chaos. I had come to grips with the fact that I was, in fact, a witch. I even had some new witch friends to add to my tragic circle of unfortunates, otherwise known as my
best friends
.
Speaking of best friends—when it comes to best friends, I don’t think that we really choose each other. I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps we are so close because we have somehow been drawn together. Yes, drawn together. In a way that shipwreck survivors might find themselves. “Oh, another single girl. Are you trying to maintain your independence, self-determination, and identity, but yet, still hoping for that swept-off-your-feet romance? Here, take a life ring and join us on our desperate bid for survival.”
In any case, the rest of my summer break certainly held no promise for much needed mental recovery time, which is exactly what usually happens to me. I never quite end up with what I expect. Things would be anything but boring. A series of seemingly unrelated and random events kicked off a chain reaction that had cataclysmic consequences. Looking back from the time I had first gotten my magical writing desk until now, I should have realized that, in fact,
everything
has been related in some way. It was like a volcano growing an ominous dome that got larger by the day, ready to explode with a shower of magical chaos that would envelop my friends and my love for Hunter.