The Zillionaire Vampire Cowboy's Secret Werewolf Babies - Chapter 13

Rock awoke to the buzz saw snoring of the werewolf in his arms. At some point during the night, Buffi had shifted into her golden-pelted lupine form. Damn, she was even sexy as a dog.

She recovered more energy and healed faster as a wolf, Rock kinda remembered, so it figured she'd need the extra rest. He smirked. They'd been wild last night. He looked to the trash can by her bed, pride sweeping over him at the two—count em, TWO—condom wrappers at the top. He'd Rocked her world, alright.

They'd not used condoms before, but for some reason, Buffi had insisted even though he thought he knew it wasn't the right time in her lunar cycle. But when a human she-wolf is naked as a sexy jaybird in front of you, you don't ask too many questions.

As he stroked her silky blonde fur, his senses started tingling. Sunrise would come soon, but he didn't want to go home. Chastity might be there, and he really had no idea what to say to her. Maybe some diamonds would soothe her hurt feelings; sparkly things usually did. Explained her obsession with that vampire from that movie. But as sweet little Chastity wasn't the vengeful type, Rock didn't have too much to worry about. His secretary could deal with it Monday; she always chose the best gifts for him to send.

The only thing he wanted to think about was Buffi, and how good she felt in his arms. Although she was quite heavy in her wolf form, and her fur smelled more like wet dog than the delicate floral scent she exuded in her human form, he still made her heart race hotter than the engines at a NASCAR race.

He pulled his hand from under her over-sized head, working carefully past her open muzzle with its sharp flesh-rending teeth. One even had a little stain of...

Gulp. That looked like blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and yanked his arm free, tumbling off the bed in the process.

He popped his head above the mattress to see if he'd woken her, but Buffi continued to snuffle through her little rabbit-chasing dreams. Maybe if she needed to stay in wolf form—he preened again at his insatiable sexual prowess—he could brush her pelt. He bet she still had that Furminator lying around somewhere, especially because of the puppies.

Oh! The puppies! He would need to tiptoe around so he didn't wake up the runts. Ok, they were kind of cute, in a mutt-y way, but children weren't his thing. And their dental hygiene left too little to the imagination, not that he wanted to imagine the bloody meat they ate.

His success in not passing out from his bloody, meaty thoughts gave Rock an idea. He could bring Buffi breakfast in bed! Way to send the message that he wanted to do this again, and soon. Women liked that kind of thing, their men doting on them.

She better not get used to it, but Rock figured he could do it just this once. If she wanted him to spoil her, well his secretary could take care of that.

Easy as pie. Or cake. He liked cake better, or at least the thought of it. Pie filling had a texture too close to—gulp—blood.

Moving stealthily from the room, Rock scampered down the hall, moving even more quietly when he noticed the nursery door was open. He wondered if the boys were sneaky enough to figure their way out of the crib yet.

He'd been able to do it by the age of two. Giving himself a mental pat on the back, he continued down the long hall of the ranch-style house to the kitchen.

Hoping that Buffi hadn't thrown away his stash, he dug through the back shelf of her pantry. Success! He opened the box and pulled out thick rubber gloves and a gas mask. Donning both, he grabbed a plate and a few spices from the rack before opening the fridge.

Bloody meat glared from almost every shelf, but Rock had mostly steeled himself against it. Though he was almost swept under the tide of nausea, he powered through it for his woman. “You're Rock solid,” he repeated over and over until a steak was on the plate.

He threw some salt, pepper, and other spices, though he wasn't sure what they were, on the meat, trying to ignore the blood pooling beneath it on the white ceramic plate.

The sunrise tingles were getting stronger, so Rock scampered back down the hallway, closing their bedroom door softly behind him.

Buffi's bluer-than-a-Texas-sky eyes popped open and her long tongue lolled out of her mouth.

“Baby, I brought you breakfast in bed. Sun's about to rise, so I gotta go. Can I camp out in your wine cellar for the day?” His words were muted by the gas mask but Buffi's hearing was excellent in this form.

She gave a wolfish smile and nodded her wolfish head. He set the meat down on the dark sheets of the bed, and she nuzzled against his hand.

Rock scratched her behind the ears and down her side. Her back leg started twitching uncontrollably—he'd found a sweet spot. A few more scratches and a pat on the belly, then he was gone.

He was growing awfully fond of that she-beast.

Daylight hadn't yet broken as he dashed from the house to The Best Little Winery in Texas and into the cellar's blessed darkness. He could smell a human sleeping upstairs, but recognized the scent of Buffi's enol...anal...whatever, wine scientist guy.

But that wasn't the only thing he could smell. Something teased his nose, something delicious. He flipped on a light, discovering that he was in a little room attached to the wine cellar. Through the wall of windows, he could see rows of casks and bottles stretching on down the long cellar.

In this room, however, one wall was filled by a refrigerator and wine rack, while the other side had a little table and chairs in one corner and a large dog bed in the other. It looked big enough for him and Buffi to curl up on together after they knocked boots another time.

Maybe he'd lure her down here under false pretenses and then seduce her like the rogue he was!

He sat down to think about this plan, because thinking was hard work, but the three label-less green wine bottles that sat on that little table distracted him. The intoxicating scent was emanating from their glassy depths!

Without thinking that he hated wine, or that red wine looked like blood, or that that Alice girl got herself into a lot of trouble drinking things without permission, he pulled out the rubber stopper and took a deep inhale.

It looked like wine. It was in a winery. But it didn't smell like wine. It smelled...like he was hungry.

He drew the bottle to his lips like an expert wino when, suddenly, the bottle was snatched from him.

“What in the Sam Hill do ya think you're doin'?” a little man twanged from his right elbow. He recorked the bottle, leaving Rock bereft like the time the cheerleaders had to leave for their football game and it was just him in the backyard hot tub. Though they'd kept him company but good up to that point.

But they weren't Buffi. The odd thought would've made his heart stutter if the dang thing still beat.

“Exsqueeze me, buddy, but how'd ya get in here? And what are ya doin' sniffin' them bottles?”

How had he not heard this itty bitty human sneak up on him? Was the liquid in that bottle so entrancing? “I'm a friend of Buffi's and she gave me the pass code so I could, uh, come check on her wine guy.”

He did kind of remember hearing Buffi growl about the man drinking too much and not finishing his work. This had to be the wine guy. He smelled like he'd bathed in a vat of sour grapes.

“Ah, well thatta be me, and you're interrupting my work.” He snagged the other two bottles and left. Rock gazed longingly at the mystery drink as it left the room in the arms of another man.

He would have mourned, but a fang-ache-worthy scream tore through the air. He knew that voice! “Buffi!” he cried, knowing he was trapped by the blasted sun.

Whatever trouble she was in, he couldn't help her!

Just when he was working up the courage to make a plan to brave the elements, Buffy burst through the door.

“Rock,” she cried, tears streaming down her red and puffy face. Tears were not a good look on her. “Rock, someone's kidnapped my babies! They say they want a million dollars to get them back—but I don't have a million dollars! The note said they'd call back in an hour with more information, and if I wasn't willing to pay they'd throw the boys to the wolves!”

He went to comfort her but stopped partway when he smelled the blood. “Uh, baby, did you brush your teeth after eating that steak?”

Her growl rumbled through the little room. “My dear sweet puppies have been stolen, and you're asking about my dental hygiene?”

“Well, baby,” he soothed, thinking that his breakfast in bed was not his brightest idea, “I...” He didn't think it would be manly to demand a grieving mother swig some Listerine, but what choice did he have?

Tears in her eyes, she growled again, pulled open the fridge, and swigged from a bottle of water. “Better?”

Well, it would have to do; it was time to be the protector man. He pulled her into his arms, trying not to think about the tear stains forming on sleeveless silk Armani tank top.

She looked up at him, sniffled, then asked, “What are we going to do? Where am I going to get a million dollars?” She howled in agony.

The sound shouldn't have been a turn-on, but it was. And he knew exactly how to make her feel better. “Baby, there's nothing we can do until the kidnappers call back about the money, which you will borrow from me. We'll find some way for you to pay me back.” He winked at her.

“Rock, do you have something stuck in your eye?”

Damn, so much for his sultry come-hither wink-stare-wink combo. “I'm fine baby. But right now, I think you just need to get your mind off the situation, and I have the perfect solution for you.”

To be continued...Chapter Fourteen

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