The R.L. Mathewson Chronicles is intended for adults 18 years and older.
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle:
A Sneak Peek at the First Shifter novel from the Pyte/Sentinel Series
Five hours later she was dragging her tired ass into her small apartment. She was exhausted and wondering why she’d stayed so late. Oh, that’s right, to mess with Drew’s head.
She really couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard in her life as woman after woman flirted with Drew. He’d glared at her each and every time when a woman made an obvious offer to spend the night in his bed and each and every time he had to send them away. It was either that or let them find out his equipment no longer functioned properly.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so blatant about dancing with as many men as she could. She may have stepped over a line or two when she was grinding away with two males from Drew’s pack right in front of him, but it had been so much fun to see him being dragged out of his own club before he could kill one of them.
The cherry on top of it all was making him think that she was going home with a very hot demon while he had to go home and reminisce about all the sex he would never again have. Ah, if only he hadn’t been such an asshole to her and so many others over the years she might have felt bad.
Might, but didn’t.
Besides, she would never accept a mate or spread her legs simply because she felt bad for him. She’d always hoped for a mate that she could truly love. Something her parents never had and something she’d always wanted for herself. Oh well, it was no big deal. At least she finally knew who her mate was. Now she could focus on her life and move on.
The scent of that delicious casserole she’d been thinking about all night hit her as she closed her front door behind her. It smelled so good. Wait, she sniffed again. It smelled warm. That was impossible since she’d placed the casserole dish in the fridge over seven hours ago.
She unleashed her claws and fangs as she moved towards her small kitchen. Another sniff let her know that she was not alone. Before she could figure out anything else, the door to her small kitchen swung open and the biggest jerk she’d ever met sauntered into her living room carrying her plate of chicken and rice casserole and a Coke.
Without a word, he walked past her, sat on her couch, placed the plate and drink in front of him before turning the television to the sports channel. He pulled the coffee table closer to him so that he could eat without making a mess. That was something, she guessed. She’d hate to have to clean casserole and blood off her rug all in the same night.
He cut her off. “Just let me finish eating and I’ll be right with you,” he said without taking his eyes away from the television. She was so stunned that she could do nothing but stand there for a few minutes while he ate her food and cursed under his breath every time he heard a score that he didn’t like.
“Ah, hello?” she finally said.
“Hold on. I’m going to need my energy so let me finish eating.”
“Energy for what?” she demanded as she finally came to her senses and stepped in front of the television. “And what the hell are you doing here?”
He finished off her dinner with an exaggerated sigh. “For the all night sex marathon you and I are going to have,” he said simply.
Then blinked again.
Then she began to laugh her ass off until she was forced to lean against the wall or fall flat on her face. Finally after several minutes she was able to wipe the tears out of her eyes and focus back on him.
“Hey!” she snapped as he started eating her apple crisp and ice cream. When the hell had he gotten up? Damn it. “That’s mine!”
He shrugged. “You’ll be happy in a little while when I have the extra energy to take you all night,” he said with a cocky wink that rubbed her the wrong way.
She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Oh my god, you need to leave now before I hurt you.”
“I’m not into rough sex, sorry.”
“No, seriously, wow. You really need to leave.”
© Rerum Industries, 2014. All Rights Reserved.