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Holy fuck, I wanted to do really bad things to both of them. The type of things that a priest would drown me in holy water for.
“Here,” I said, standing over both of them. “Drink up, you dehydrated bitches.”
Dracon’s low rumble made us both look up. He slowly began to morph back into his normal state. So the cum had done it, huh? Cured his fucking temper tantrum.
“Oh.” I could almost hear him find his composure. “Hi, Dracon. I thought you were with Kat and Dell this weekend.” “I am,” I said, fighting the temper that was rising up again. “And we ran into a problem. She thinks she saw a werewolf? One that fucking ate her husband years ago? Ring a bell, you fucking coffee bean cupid?”
“Rum!” Dracon yelled, squeezing past us. “Don’t barf on the driveway, you fucking bull!”
Peter was still held by Dante, but he offered me a smile. “Hi. Sorry, Dante is possessive.” “Protective,” Dante corrected, rolling his eyes. “Possessive,” Dracon, Rum, and Peter said simultaneously.
“Why is it furless?” Dracon asked, narrowing his eyes. “We were adopting a black kitten. Not a mole.”
Biscuit stared into my soul as the girl droned on about how amazing she was. I was now convinced Satan had a long lost pet, and this was it.
“We came to adopt a child, but I think we’re going home with an angry babushka,” I muttered, shaking my head.
