Page 54 of Her Werewolf Lover

Fucker was a Big Cat Shifter. Thought he’d just come by with a bottle of champagne to celebrate her new job. Of course, he recognized his error immediately when Michael answered the door.

“Who the fuck are you?”Michael growled his not so friendly greeting.

“Uh, Eric Marlowe for Samantha Jones? Her edit-tor,”he stuttered.

“I see. Well, thanks for that. I’ll give it to my mate,”Michael had grabbed the bottle and slammed the door right in his face.

Of course, he knew Samantha was standing behind him.

“What? I wasn’t letting that fucking Cat in here to sniff around you,”he growled.

“Cat?”

“Yeah. Wolves aren’t the only Shifters,”he’d said, backing her against the wall.“What do you say we open this champagne and celebrate by lighting the firepit and making love under the stars?”

“I say yes, Michael.”

She sure did. And they did.

Twice.

She was starting to understand how important she was to him, but he wanted to make sure she got it entirely. He hoped like hell the box in his jacket pocket was going to do the trick.

To Wolves, mating someone was the same if not more final than marriage. But Samantha was a human, and if marrying her brought home the fact that he would never leave her and that he wanted the world to know they were together. Then he would.

Ten times over, he would.

He shifted the car into park, pausing as he slid out the driver’s side when Samantha came out to greet him. She was wearing a pair of leggings and knee-high furry boots with one of his sweatshirts that on her was oversized.

Fuck. She looked delicious.

“Hi!”

“Hi yourself, beautiful. What are you doing?”

“Oh, I just couldn’t wait to see you,” she replied, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him.

His chest squeezed. He loved this woman so much.

“Our costumes came, and uh, I don’t want you to be mad,” she said, biting her lip.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked.

Sam was trying not to laugh as she dragged him inside to show him the purple go-go boots and retro outfit of a certain red-haired cartoon character from a mystery series he recalled watching as a kid.

“Okay. That is hot,” he said, pointing to the purple mini dress.

Michael was already thinking about peeling it off her later when he saw she had something in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“It’s your costume,” she said, and this time she did laugh as she held up a dog collar with the infamous SD tag dangling from it.

“Sam!” he growled, lunging for her playfully.

Sam squealed and took off for the stairs. Michael grinned, taking his time to chase her. Maya wouldn’t be home for at least twenty minutes. There was a lot he could do in twenty minutes.

“You better open that door, Sunshine, or I’m gonna huff, and puff,” he growled, but that was as far as he got before his sexy as sin mate opened their bedroom door, sunk to her knees and blew his mind.

Life was good now that he had Sunshine in his life. Oh yeah, it had turned out better than Michael had ever imagined.

“That’s it, Mate. Show me what it means to have a Werewolf lover,” Samantha panted as he pushed her down on the mattress.

“I’ll show you, Mate. Now open your legs and let me see what’s mine. Good Girl.”

The end.

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