dog sleeping on a bed nearly the size of a twin mattress that presently occupied most of her living room floor. He stretched out to full size, showing off his large frame while emphasizing his lack of a fleshy layer over his stark ribs and hips. Earlier, he'd gobbled down everything she'd given him. When she'd wanted to refill his bowl, Spoon had stopped her, pointing out that if he ate too much, too soon, she would be mopping up dog vomit off her floor. His reasoning had made sense and she wanted to avoid the upchucking for the canine's benefit as well as hers, so she'd ushered the beast to his bed for a nap, hoping he would digest well and be ready for another large meal before long.
"I'm not sure. Any suggestions?"
"He didn't seem to respond to any commands I tried in English or Spanish. If he had a name, I'm not sure he would respond to it, either."
"Hmmm." She considered what she would call such a large animal with a massive head, soft black eyes, and a long pink tongue that tended to slime her with slobber more often than not.
"The vet thought he might be a year old. Overall he's in great condition considering his living conditions and lack of care. So, whatever you pick will have to last a good long while."
She briefly tossed around a few options, throwing each by the wayside. "It needs to be reflective of his size and bulk. Something a bit different."
"Dog?"
"No." She frowned at him. "Something with character."
"Titus?"
"Better, but not quite it."
They sat in silence for a few beat until Spoon offered up another idea. "Achilles?"
Twisting, she flashed him a smile. "Oh, I like that." Her attention returned to the snoring canine below. "Perfect. Achilles, it is."
As the newly dubbed Achilles slept through her calling his name, she decided it would be like starting with a just weaned puppy, only this one came in extra-large super-size, snored, and weighed more than she did. Drool was a given.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, giving Riley ample time to allow her thoughts to wander. She noted the present situation with Spoon beside her and her new pet at their feet and wondered if she could be lucky enough to see the same scene repeated almost nightly for years to come. Comfortable and content with both males, she hoped beyond measure that her bubble would hold strong and steady, not burst at the smallest needle prick. Like a princess locked away in a tower most of her life, she'd discovered her long lost prince, saw him for the priceless gem he was, and vowed to openly throw herself into the slowly evolving relationship while praying they continued to click.
"I read your book."
"Ready for the refund I promised?" She leaned back, resting across his lap, so she could peer up into his face.
He stuffed a pillow under her head for comfort, shooting her a quick grin. "Not at all. It actually wasn't what I expected."
"Which was?"
"Some lame story about a hot temptress who lusts for a werewolf and they spend the entire time in bed."
She snorted. "I'm sure a lot of men believe that. Romance novels have been put down in the past and some still persist today, believing it's a negligible step above reading straight porn." Her father certainly felt the same, smashing her happiness with a few hurtful words, accusing her of writing scandalous material that would reflect poorly on him. It didn't take much imagination to realize others would feel the same way. Closing her mouth, she fought back familiar sadness at such harsh criticism of her hobby and hopeful future career. Old wounds threatened to reopen.
"Hey." He leaned in, brushing a brief kiss on her forehead. "I said it wasn't what I expected. The plot was interesting and believable. You couldn't help but root for the heroine and laugh at her antics and the grumbling werewolf that learned he couldn't push her around."
"And the sex scenes?" she squeaked out, afraid of the answer.
He grinned down at her. "Now, those were my favorite. I had to reread
"I'm not sure. Any suggestions?"
"He didn't seem to respond to any commands I tried in English or Spanish. If he had a name, I'm not sure he would respond to it, either."
"Hmmm." She considered what she would call such a large animal with a massive head, soft black eyes, and a long pink tongue that tended to slime her with slobber more often than not.
"The vet thought he might be a year old. Overall he's in great condition considering his living conditions and lack of care. So, whatever you pick will have to last a good long while."
She briefly tossed around a few options, throwing each by the wayside. "It needs to be reflective of his size and bulk. Something a bit different."
"Dog?"
"No." She frowned at him. "Something with character."
"Titus?"
"Better, but not quite it."
They sat in silence for a few beat until Spoon offered up another idea. "Achilles?"
Twisting, she flashed him a smile. "Oh, I like that." Her attention returned to the snoring canine below. "Perfect. Achilles, it is."
As the newly dubbed Achilles slept through her calling his name, she decided it would be like starting with a just weaned puppy, only this one came in extra-large super-size, snored, and weighed more than she did. Drool was a given.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, giving Riley ample time to allow her thoughts to wander. She noted the present situation with Spoon beside her and her new pet at their feet and wondered if she could be lucky enough to see the same scene repeated almost nightly for years to come. Comfortable and content with both males, she hoped beyond measure that her bubble would hold strong and steady, not burst at the smallest needle prick. Like a princess locked away in a tower most of her life, she'd discovered her long lost prince, saw him for the priceless gem he was, and vowed to openly throw herself into the slowly evolving relationship while praying they continued to click.
"I read your book."
"Ready for the refund I promised?" She leaned back, resting across his lap, so she could peer up into his face.
He stuffed a pillow under her head for comfort, shooting her a quick grin. "Not at all. It actually wasn't what I expected."
"Which was?"
"Some lame story about a hot temptress who lusts for a werewolf and they spend the entire time in bed."
She snorted. "I'm sure a lot of men believe that. Romance novels have been put down in the past and some still persist today, believing it's a negligible step above reading straight porn." Her father certainly felt the same, smashing her happiness with a few hurtful words, accusing her of writing scandalous material that would reflect poorly on him. It didn't take much imagination to realize others would feel the same way. Closing her mouth, she fought back familiar sadness at such harsh criticism of her hobby and hopeful future career. Old wounds threatened to reopen.
"Hey." He leaned in, brushing a brief kiss on her forehead. "I said it wasn't what I expected. The plot was interesting and believable. You couldn't help but root for the heroine and laugh at her antics and the grumbling werewolf that learned he couldn't push her around."
"And the sex scenes?" she squeaked out, afraid of the answer.
He grinned down at her. "Now, those were my favorite. I had to reread
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