Page 27 of It's Kind of a Bunny Story
My wolf was significantly larger than that of a natural wolf, which was why I wasn’t part of the team that handled perimeter security. If a hunter spotted me, the humans would be crawling all over our land within days.
Yep. I could see the headlines now:Beast of Gévaudan Returns from the Grave to Haunt American Forest.
Letting my jealousy get the best of me, I used the bulk and size of my wolf’s form to shove a complaining Copeland out of the way. I squeezed between them, dropping to my belly beside Charlee.
For the thousandth time, I was stunned by how fragile she seemed. The other two rabbit shifter females were about the same height, but Monroe’s fiery stubbornness had made her seem taller. I knew Charlee must have that same spirit and resilience to survive what she’d gone through, but at that moment, it looked like a summer breeze could knock her down.
What if I accidentally rolled over and squished her in our sleep? My huff of worry caused her eyelids to fly open. She took in my wolf form and her eyes widened.
The first time we’d met, I’d been in my wolf form, but she had been caught in the throes of her heat and mid-bonding with Fletcher. She’d happily curled her fingers into my fur, using me as an anchor to keep from going wild on the male rabbit. The second time she’d encountered my wolf had been when we’d pinned her beneath us, spurred on by her frenzied heat.
We were mates, but that didn’t change the fact that to be comfortable with me, she’d need to ignore centuries of a prey species’ survival instincts telling her I was dangerous. I held myself motionless, waiting for her reaction and steeling myself against the pain I’d experience if she recoiled in fear or disgust—even if the reaction was automatic.
“Hello.” Her voice was husky thanks to sleep… and sex.
I tilted my head in greeting, not wanting to startle her with any sudden movements. Charlee held her hand near my muzzle as though I were a dog, and she was waiting for me to sniff it and accept her touch.
My wolf rolled his eyes. Little Miss Bunny Britches had a lot to learn about wolves. Leaning forward, I pressed my nose against her palm and was amazed when it nearly took up her entire palm.
Charlee sucked in her breath and gave me a brilliant smile. “Can I pet you?”
Pet me? Was she serious? My chuff caused tendrils of blonde hair to blow around her face. As if I would lower myself?—
My wolf flopped onto his back, presenting our stomach for belly rubs.
Mate wants to pet.
I was surprised because my wolf rarely spoke. My disgruntled attitude evaporated the instant she ran her fingers through my underbelly fur.
“I’ve never felt anything this soft,” she whispered in awe.
Soft wasn’t a compliment most men wanted to hear, but I wasn’t going to complain. Who knew belly rubs felt so good?
Charlee laughed as my wolf gave a happy wiggle. She scratched my stomach with more enthusiasm, stretching as far as she could reach. With a well-timed bump of my hips, I knocked her off balance and caused her to face-plant against my fur. Not giving her time to recover, I wedged my nuzzle under her butt and, with a firm jerk, tossed her onto my stomach.
“Umpf!” Her grunt of surprise was followed by a squeal as I snuck a quick lick up her cheek.
“I see how it is!” She ran her hands through my fur with renewed fervor, as though she were trying to tickle me.
Copeland clicked his tongue in disbelief. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Why would you say that?” Charlee pushed herself onto her knees, straddling my chest, and narrowed her eyes in his direction.
“Wolves don’t present their stomachs to other shifters, and wolf shifters don’t degrade themselves by being petted,” he explained.
Charlee scoffed. “But he likes it! See?” Her hands scratched at my ribs.
I could totally play this cool?—
My wolf let my tongue loll out of my mouth and kicked at the air with our back leg as she foundthespot.
Yeah, that was exactly what I’d meant by playing it cool.
You whine more than a dog.
This was the most talkative my wolf had ever been. Go figure it would be to insult me.
“From werewolf to purse pet.” Copeland’s dark chuckle told me I wouldn’t live this down for a long time.
