To Love a Wolf; Sequel to Coyotes and Wolves, A Milo Manheim Original Story

Brat Sabotage

POV: Milo

As emotionally broken as I felt yesterday, strangely this morning, I feel kind of light after waking up. My bed, as warm and soft, as the girl wrapped around me. I was even sort of excited for the Friendsgiving thing.

Yesterday was a mess. It was so incredibly draining, not to mention, humiliating. But, after it was all over, I realized that I'd finally stood up to my Dad, and didn't give in to my mom. I let Estella help and support me, and let go of a lot of emotional shit that I didn't even know was buried, like way the fuck down.

When I think about how Estella was so amazing with me last night, I can't control my face, this smile just won't fade. She just let me feel and express what I needed to. I think that's the most unchained and vulnerable that I ever let myself get, and I wasn't even scared. It felt so strange but I couldn't deny that it was, for lack of a better explanation, liberating. I think that's what healing might actually feel like. I never believed in like, spiritual stuff before-- but after last night, I could probably be convinced.

After I unwound myself from Estella, who was plying me with kisses and cuddles not to mention desperately trying to rile up the Big Bad Wolf; I was finally able to get on some sweat pants and a t-shirt, and head downstairs.
My pretty little brat was actually trying very persistently, to sabotage me from starting to cook for her damn party.

It took a lot for me not to give in, believe me. I'm gonna have this stupid hard-on probably all friggin' day now, but I had to cook and prepare this very high pressure meal that she insisted on. Yeah, I kinda feel bad leaving her all pouty and unsatisfied... wrapped up all naked in the sheets, voice all sleepy and sexy, hair sprawled around her shoulders in a beautiful little mess...

Sorry...Um, what was I talking about?

Fuck.

Hang on, it'll come back to me...

Goddamn my stupid hormones, and that pain in the ass, sexy little doll, in my bed.

Oh, yeah! I got it now.

Anyway, she knew what she was getting into when she asked me to do this. Maybe, I spoil her, but that's how I like my Princess to be. I want to give her everything her bratty little ass wants, and I don't do anything half-way.

I heard her graceful little feet pad down the stairs and I smiled to myself thinking of her pouty lips when I left my room this morning. My back was turned, as I was pulling apart bread to make the stuffing for the turkey. The bird was seasoned and ready to go into the oven. Apparently these things take friggin' hours to cook. Thank God, for YouTube and Tiktok tutorials. I can cook, but I've never made something like this before. I mean, what 18 year old dude knows how to cook for an entire damn holiday?

I picked up a mug, about to pour her some coffee, when I heard her clear her throat behind me expectantly. I lowered my brow, and turned around.

Fuck...

Yeah, the mug didn't make it. I dropped it,
the crash of the porcelain startling my breath back into my lungs.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, her sleek, curvaceous, figure, covered only by a black silk bralette and matching French cut panties. She was posing for me with her hands on her hips, and a tantalizing smirk on her pretty, pouty, lips.

If my hormones weren't attacking me before, they were definitely beating the hell out of me now!

I ordered these a week ago, for her. I wanted to surprise her, and I kind of liked dressing up my little doll. I liked the idea of her looking all cute and sexy, just for me. But the devious little thing must've intercepted the package.