Молли Харпер - How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf

“Mine,” he told me, making me convulse around him like a velvet-covered fist.

Just as he reached his climax, Cooper’s irises seemed to darken and expand, closing out all of the white. Teeth bared, he threw his head back with the final thrust and clamped down on my shoulder, just where it met my neck. I shrieked at the intrusion of teeth against my flesh, but Cooper held me fast against him. My hands batted ineffectively at his shoulders as my skin tore like paper under his mouth. This painful, alien sensation sent me toppling over the edge of sanity. My pulse jumped, my breath caught, and all of my muscles seemed to contract at once, shuddering through the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. As I shook and screamed, Cooper gathered my fluttering wrists with one hand and used the other to slip soothing brushes along my brow. I felt a trickle of blood down my back as Cooper’s head fell to rest against mine.

Our breathing slowed and he rolled off me, gathering me to his side. Once I’d regained use of my arms, I reached out and smacked the side of his head.

“Ow!” he cried.

“You bit me!” I groused, pressing my hand to the wound. “Again!”

He flushed with guilt but kept a defensive note in his voice. “It’s a good thing! It means you’re mine. The scar is a public declaration. It means you’re my mate. It means no other wolf can claim you. It means you’re under my protection and the protection of my pack . . . if I had one.”

“Like a pimp.”

He made a sour face. “It’s no different from me peeing on your doorstep.”

“You peed on my doorstep?”

He winced. I don’t think he realized how gross that sounded until he said it aloud. “Right before I told you I couldn’t see you anymore.” His expression was alternately sheepish and defensive. “I was marking the territory. It keeps other predators away. I had to keep you safe somehow. You stumble into the path of pissed-off grizzlies, for God’s sake.”

Suddenly, my hand snaked out, and I hit him again.

He winced. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Apparently, I’m still a little mad at you.”

“Mo, I’m sorry if it hurt—”

“Yes, Cooper, that’s why I’m mad, because you bit me.” I snorted.

“—but marking you is best for the baby,” he insisted.

My shirt slithered out of my hand. “How did you find out?” I whispered.

“Well, my mom sort of tracked me down and proceeded to beat the ever-loving hell out of me until I admitted you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And that I would have to be an idiot not to run back to you and beg for forgiveness. With the understanding that she plans on beating me at regular intervals just to keep me on my toes. She’s had some sort of violent epiphany, I think.”

I lay back, feeling as if all of the air in my lungs had been pulled out. He knew. He knew, and he didn’t say anything? Shouldn’t that have been maybe the second or third thing he’d said? Maybe right after “Missed you so damned much,” he could have mentioned “Love you, and I’m so sorry I ran off and left you to suffer through your first trimester alone.” How would I know now? How would I know whether he wanted me for me or because he felt he had no other choice?

“Is that the only reason you came back? Because your mom implied that you were being less than a man?”

“No, it’s not the only reason.”

I hopped to my feet. “Because I don’t need you to raise this baby. I don’t need you or any other sperm carrier just to be a good parent.”

Cooper’s jaw dropped, and somehow he found the gall to look offended. “Sperm carrier?”

I glared down at him. “Am I supposed to be happy that you came running back because you heard you knocked me up? I don’t want you here out of some sense of obligation.”

“But you do need me. You’re going to need me to help you. I want to be with you, Mo. I want to be a family.”

“You know, I find myself not really giving a crap what you want,” I said, nudging him with my feet until he was forced to get up. I threw a blanket at him, which he wrapped around his waist.

“You told my mother. You had to know that she would get word to me eventually.”

“Yes, but now that I realize that’s the only reason you’re here, I find that I’m really annoyed about it!” I cried. “And actually, no, I didn’t know she’d get word to you eventually, Cooper, because I didn’t know where you were. Your mother didn’t know where you were. Hell, as far as I knew, I was never going to see you again. You didn’t see fit to let me know whether you were ever coming back. How am I supposed to feel about that? You know what? Get out. Get the hell out of here. Until I tell you to come back, you just stay the hell away from me.”

I shoved him toward the door, blanket and all. He tried to stand his ground, but it was hard for him to push back when he knew I was pregnant. He tried to lay his hands on my shoulders but loosened his grip to almost nothing. I was not so kind, stomping on his bare toes, forcing him to move his feet toward the door. “Mo, you’re not making any sense! We just got back together, and you’re already kicking me out?”

“Well, suddenly, I’m not really making rational decisions anymore. It must be all the hormones!” I yelled, slamming the door and locking it behind me.

“I’ll just stay out here, then!” he called through the door. I could practically hear the smirk coming through in his voice, which made me want to throw a birdfeeder at him. “Love you!”

I snapped the curtain over the window. I cleaned up, carefully bandaging the bite mark on my neck as I got dressed for bed. It was already healing into a wide crescent scar. I wondered if that was because of Cooper’s magic or the baby’s. Before I turned out the lights, I marched to the front door and pulled back the curtain to see if he was still there. He’d changed and was curled up in a ball on the welcome mat, sleeping. I felt a little flare of guilt. It wasn’t especially cold outside, and he’d probably slept through worse, but not on my account. I could open the door and at least let him sleep in the living room. After all, wasn’t this what I wanted? Wasn’t this what I’d made myself miserable for, having Cooper back? How contrary and prideful was it to turn him away now?

The truth was, I wasn’t ready to let him back in yet. He’d hurt me. I couldn’t trust that the next time things got hard or he started feeling guilty, he wouldn’t just run off again. I wandered back into my bedroom and crawled under the covers. Oscar, who had been hiding under the bed, hopped up near my feet and nestled beside me. I sat up and scratched between his ears. “Oscar, you are the only trustworthy male in this house, canine or otherwise.”

When I woke up in the morning, Cooper was still in wolf form, still on the porch. He huffed at me and scratched at the door, but I went about my business, getting ready for work. He walked me to the truck and sat in the driveway while I pulled out, his paw raised in a sort of wave. I didn’t speak a word to him, not that morning or that night when I got home. Or the night after that or the one after that. For a week, Cooper stayed in wolf form, watching over the house, walking me back and forth from my truck whenever I left. I stayed silent. Even Oscar gave him the cold shoulder when he went out to play. But neither rain nor sleet nor Arctic blasts from a wiener dog could keep my werewolf boyfriend from his self-appointed rounds.

One night, I came home to find a pile of flowers, pulled up by the roots, scattered over the front stoop. Cooper sat on his haunches, surrounded by wildflowers, and huffed.

“What’s next, a dead squirrel?” I asked.

Cooper barked.