by J.D. Tyler
August 2, 2011
…There, just beyond the covered patio, lying flat on her back on a quilt in the sunshine, was his woman.
And sprawled on her stomach, tiny furry legs hanging on each side of her like a cat sunning on a branch, was Chup-Chup. Unnoticed by either of them, he stopped and stared. Her little friend was making a sort of whirring, hiccup noise nobody could mistake as anything but sheer bliss. His round body, which almost resembled a baby koala bear’s, rose and fell with each breath as he dozed.
The pair was so fucking cute, he couldn’t really form the words to describe what the sight did to him. All he knew was it tightened his chest with an emotion he wasn’t ready to name. To see this creature, formerly scared and snapping at everyone, lying there so trusting and content, was a measure of her goodness. The bright light that no one was able to resist.
Turning her head, she spotted him standing on the porch and waved him over. “You can come closer. Just don’t make any sudden moves.”
That seemed to be true of the woman as well as Chup. Wisely, he didn’t say so. “Okay. Walking slowly.” He made his way over to where they lay and crouched. The creature hadn’t moved. “Now what?”
“Nothing. He’ll notice you soon enough and we’ll see what happens.”
“That’s reassuring.” He eyed Chup warily.
“Don’t tell me that the big bad werewolf is afraid of this little guy,” she teased.
“Shifter, not werewolf. A werewolf is that half-man thing from a B horror movie. And that ‘little guy’ can chew my face off. Have you seen those teeth?”
“Pardon me, shifter. And he won’t bite unless you startle him.” She looked entirely too amused by his trepidation.
“Then I’ll have to be sure not to startle him again, won’t I? Remember, he got me once before.” He frowned at her hands, which bore red scratches and a few bite marks. “You aren’t wearing your gloves.”
“I don’t need them anymore.”
“I’m not so sure.”