by Jacey Conrad
“Am I going to be your wife?” she asked, pursing her lips. “I’m not so sure. You haven’t actually asked me to marry you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I haven’t?”
She shook her head, sliding her hand over his shirt, down his chest, to trace the line of his abs with her fingertips. “I’m an old fashioned girl. I demand that my werewolf boyfriend pop the question properly.”
“Should I go to Nikolai and ask for your hand?” he asked, his voice raising several octaves when she lowered her hand to his crotch and squeezed.
“Not if you want me to say yes,” she said.
“Noted,” he gasped as she let loose of his junk. “I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“So, I suppose the only way I can make it up to you is to offer you this,” he said, pulling a small red velvet box from his jacket pocket—a box stamped with the Red Crown logo. He opened the lid to reveal a platinum ring set with one large square diamond. Viktor pulled the ring from the box to show her one carefully wrought running wolf etched into the band.
“This is so beautiful,” she sighed, admiring the fine workmanship of the ring. “Who made it?”
“Vlad,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I stood over him as he worked, which seemed to help,” Viktor said. “Apparently, he’s only competent when inspired by terror.”
“Well, it’s clear where I went wrong with him,” she muttered. “He did a beautiful job.”
“So, Irina Sudenko, under your own judgment and free will, will you please marry me?”
The words were important, she realized. He was asking her to consider first, to decide for herself. He was so the werewolf for her.
“Yes, Viktor Zhukovsky, I will marry you,” she said, kissing him. He practically purred against her lips, a deep contented rumble that radiated from his chest. She bumped her forehead against his. “Are you sure you can you handle all of this?”
“Baby, I can handle anything you throw at me,” he said, grinning as he leaned up for another kiss. Then he hesitated. “Except for that pantsless Christmas poem thing. I draw the line there.”
“I’ll let the Easter egg hunt be a surprise for you,” she told him.
Viktor shook his head. “How do you feel about eloping?”
She laughed, kissing him deeply.
This was her life.
She was pretty damned lucky.
About the Authors
Jacey Conrad (aka Molly Harper) is a sushi-loving, pop culture nerd living in the South with her high school sweetheart. She delights in horribly made mutant shark movies and watching Sean Bean die in his various cinematic incarnations. To keep up with Jacey on twitter, go to:
twitter.com/JaceyConrad
Gia Corona loves boots, boys, and bourbon, not necessarily in that order. When she’s not actively stalking Michael Fassbender and his abdominals, she’s watching questionable television or reading comics. You can find her at:
twitter.com/Gia_writes