A Werewolf's Valentine: BBW Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant Read Free Book Online

what that dickwad Jeff Olsen said once, when I punched him right in  . . .” He flexed his hands, his shoulders tightening, then he backed up. “I gotta go.” And he was gone again.
    Leaving McKenzi staring at West as the clue stick hit. Did he even know?
    Rolf had imprinted on West. Wolves did that. Rolf might not have been able to shift until he had a pack to help him. And now he was part of a pack—a pack of two, but . . . it was a pack.
    And West would soon be on the road, because that was their deal. No expectations, no promises to regret and to break.
    The urge to grab hold of him and make him stay was so strong it actually hurt somewhere behind her ribs, leaving her unsteady. She’d never felt that way, ever, about anyone, and had no idea what to say.
    He looked back at her, blinking rain from his eyes—
    “I could kiss you,” she said. Yeah, stay in this moment. That’s right. Don’t think about the future.
    At the same moment, he said again, in a tentative voice, “You’re a cat.”
    “Is that a bad thing?” She peered at him, sorrow crowding her throat.
    “No. It’s a . . . new thing.”
    She reached him, took his shoulders in her hands, and kissed him. “Look,” she said. “The rain is bad, and the roads will be dangerous. And I owe you big-time. So let me pay you back the best way I know how.” With each word she backed him toward the bedroom, her hands tearing at his coat.
    Inside, her cat had gone still. Was it because he was a wolf? But she’d been with shifters as well as non-shifters, and had never felt much difference. In fact, they pretty much all ran together in her mind. If she got laid once a week, that was usually plenty—a little drink, a little fun, then out of her space.
    The rest of her life was her family, and the town, but here she was tearing the clothes off a guy she couldn’t get enough of: hands, mouth, skin, she wanted to touch him everywhere.
    She kissed him, hard, then whirled away just long enough to click the lock on the front door.
    Then he was on her, pressing her against the kitchen wall as he possessed her mouth, hands cupping her breasts, those rough, callused thumbs ravishing her nipples through her shirt.
    “I should have seen it, your being a cat,” he whispered, when they broke for breath.
    “You like cats?” she asked, grinning as he ran his hands slowly up her sides, catching her top with his thumbs and pulling it up. She shimmied out of it.
    “I’ve never been with a cat shifter before,” he admitted.
    “Oh, wolves only, is it?”
    “Only one wolf,” he said, his gaze heating as she flung her bra onto the dish drainer.
    “Ready for a walk on the wild side?” McKenzi grabbed him by the hips and pushed him into one of the two kitchen chairs, then knelt at his feet and pushed apart his legs.
    A laugh escaped him, and then a gasp as she got his pants unzipped. “Cats like to play,” she chortled as his cock emerged, ramrod hard. “Come to me, my little cat toy,” she said, and took him into her mouth.
    He tasted incredible. As she nibbled down the ridge of his cock, enjoying how it jumped, how his breathing hitched, she felt powerful, full of heat and fire. She settled in to tease and torture him into coming his brains out, but he suddenly pulled free, and grabbed her. “It’s gotta be us both,” he said in a guttural voice. “With you . . . In you.”
    She was already kicking off her jeans. His hot gaze followed the fabric down, then he took hold of her, turned her around, and with a hand between her shoulder blades, pushed her down onto the kitchen table.
    “I ssssssso like where this is going,” she hissed.
    His hips thrust up against her, his cock pressing against the lace of her thong. She groaned, urgency driving her wild as she tilted her hips up into him, grinding against him.
    He slid her thong slowly down her legs, which were trembling with heat by the time he gently lifted the fabric over her heels. Then he was back, kneading