Claiming Curves (Werewolf & BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

And those golden eyes were fixed directly on me.

That's when I first felt it. That irresistible attraction. Some animal
need,
coming up from deep inside me, pulsing hot between my thighs
.
That black swirl of fear. And the way they all mixed into an explosive concoction which set fire to my blood, set my heart pounding loud enough to drown out the music of the bar.

I couldn't draw my eyes away from him. His presence exerted some magnetic pull over me.

He flowed with ease through the crowd – it seemed to part to let him through. All the other people receded into an inky darkness as he approached me. He moved with a languid, loping gait which displayed a sinuous, dextrous strength. He moved in close to me, maintaining his golden gaze. I could feel heat emanating from him, spreading to me somehow. A hot blush bloomed across my cheeks.

I was burning inside. My knees felt weak. I simply looked up at him as he towered over me, looking back down at me.

“Fiona?” he said. His voice was low, deeper even than the bass blaring from the speakers in the corner of the room. And although he didn't yell, his deep tone cut easily through the music.

A flutter of butterflies burst inside my stomach as he said my name. How did he know it?

My tongue was tied in knots – I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was still looking down at me, waiting for my reply; a spark of humor was in his bright eyes now.

I simply nodded, feeling hypnotized by his gaze. His mouth curled into a slight smile, and he offered his hand to me. My body seemed to react without thinking; my hand moved quickly towards his and clasped it.

Why did this seem so natural?  I'd never seen the man before in my life.

His palm was shockingly hot. The heat flowed from it and into me, down my wrist, enveloping my whole body. I thought I might melt.

Firmly holding my hand, the man led me through the dancing crowd. The people parted to either side of him, leaving an empty path for me to walk. I wondered for a moment where he was taking me, and why there was no hint of resistance inside me. I followed him automatically, without question.

Finally we came to the edge of the dance-floor, and emerged into the relative light of the bar. Amidst the thumping music and intertwining conversations, I heard a familiar laugh – Jade.

Somehow, I'd completely forgotten that I was here with her. How long had I been dancing?

The man holding my hand led me towards the big, wooden slab that was the bar, and I spotted Jade sitting beside it, a drink in hand. She was deep in conversation with a young guy who looked as drunk as her. With dark, short hair, he looked similar to the man who had led me here, but younger and less muscular.

The stranger let go of my hand, and I felt a strange pang of sadness as he released me. The heat from his palm evaporated, and I felt a sudden chill.

We approached Jade and the young guy together, and they turned to greet us, wearing matching drunken grins.

“You found her!” Jade said to the mysterious man who had led me here.

“I did,” he replied, his voice tinged with a subtle humor. “She was dancing up a storm.”

A hot blush flooded through me again. I'd
never
danced like that before.

How embarrassing.

“Fiona? Dancing? No way!” said Jade. The man smiled and nodded. And then he extended his hand towards me again.

“I'm Adam,” he said. His face was already serious again; that darkness had returned to his golden eyes.

I took his hand again to shake it. It was still burning hot; it sent another rush of heat through me. Shooting along my arm, swirling deliciously down my abdomen, stirring that warmth between my legs...

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, realizing that he was awaiting a reply.

What was my name again?

“I'm Fiona,” I managed to stutter. “But you already knew that.”

“Indeed,” he said. “Jade asked me to find you. I'm her boyfriend's brother.” He turned briefly towards Jade and the young man she was seated with. They were making out with a drunken passion, seemingly oblivious to Adam and I already.

“That's Steve, my little brother.” Adam continued, gesturing towards them. “I think he's attempting to pickle himself from the inside out tonight.” A pile of empty glasses and bottles lay strewn on the bar beside Jade and Steve.

With his lips still locked onto Jade's, Steve lifted his hand and gave Adam the middle finger. A mischievous gleam shone through the haze of alcohol in his rolling eye. Adam shook his head in response – whether his disgust was real or mock, I couldn't tell.

Adam took a seat beside them at the bar, and I sat next to him. Adam ordered a glass of water from the bartender.

“And what'll you have?” Adam asked, turning towards me.

“Vodka and lemonade,” I said. “Thanks.”

“And I'll have another couple of shots,” Steve interjected from the other side of Adam. He'd finally taken his face away from Jade's.

“You've had enough, Steve,” Adam said, turning to him.

“I'm just getting started, brother!” Steve laughed. “I'm thirsty as hell.”

“Seriously,” Adam said. “Take a break for an hour.” His deep voice was commanding, and contained more than a hint of annoyance.

“Whatever, man,” Steve said, grinning numbly.  He stood up unsteadily, and pulled Jade to her feet. “Let's dance, babe,” he said, grabbing her ass. Jade giggled and the pair stumbled away, into the heaving mass on the dance floor.

I couldn't help but smile at the spectacle. Drunk as they both were, they looked like they were having a blast. The bartender delivered my vodka, and I took a big gulp. It burned.

“Does Steve always get that hammered?” I asked, turning to Adam. He didn't answer me for a moment – he seemed to be looking somewhere into the distance, with a haunted look in his eyes. I wondered why he was so bothered.

“Yep,” Adam said, without looking up or changing his expression. “The idiot's gonna fucking kill himself one day.”

I was taken aback by the seething anger in his voice. It somehow matched that mysterious darkness that I'd spotted in his golden eyes earlier.

For some reason, I had a longing to understand that darkness. To know why it was there.

But I was starting to feel a buzz from the vodka, and I thought I might be able to cheer Adam up a bit by lightening the mood.

“I'm sure he'll learn his lesson before he manages to pickle himself completely,” I said, smiling. “He's not your responsibility.”

My words seemed to have the opposite effect that I'd intended. The darkness loomed in Adam's eyes, until they clouded with anger. He slowly looked back at me, his expression cold.

“You don't know us,” he said. “So don't pretend you do.”

I felt the smile evaporate from my face. His sudden change in temperament made me a little afraid, and I struggled to reply, burning with confusion and embarrassment. I looked at him, shocked, and I saw his expression soften.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“No,” I said. “You shouldn't.” Suddenly I felt like leaving the bar. Adam's sudden change had frightened me, and made me realize just how out of place I was here. This was a rough, dangerous bar. And maybe Adam was just another rough inhabitant of it. That longing that I'd felt when I first saw him – that I still felt, if I was to be honest – was probably nothing but a raw, physical attraction. I didn't know him, and now I wasn't sure whether I wanted to.

I stood up from the bar, placing my glass down. “I have to go,” I said. Adam stood up too. I could see the regret in his face.

“I'm sorry,” he said again. “Don't leave because of me –”

Although a part of me actually wanted to stay, I had to stick to my principles. I wasn't going to hang around with a guy who spoke to me like that. I checked my watch, and saw that it was late – time to head home anyway. I had a mountain of homework to work on in the morning.

“No,” I said to Adam. “I really should be going. I have to study for an exam.”

“Then allow me to walk you home,” Adam said, standing from his seat. His golden eyes were mesmerizing. I felt that longing again, flowing up from deep inside me. It made me so badly want to say
yes
. To walk home with him. To invite him in. A dark swirl of anticipation, deep within.

To lead him to my bedroom, and part my legs for him. To feel him inside me ...

What the hell was I thinking?

I pushed the feeling away, blocked out the stupid fantasy, and shook my head. “Thanks, but I'll be fine,” I said. “I just live around the corner.”

“Are you sure?” he said. “It'd be safer if I accompanied you.” As if to emphasize his point, a violent smash of glass came from the back of the bar. I turned to see a huge man being dragged out by three bouncers who struggled to contain him. He swept tables aside, kicking and roaring as they pulled him towards the doors. I realized that it was the bald guy in the singlet that had grinned evilly at me before – the nasty-looking one with the blind, scarred eye and the wolf paw tattooed on the back of his neck.

For another fleeting moment, I wished I could say yes to Adam. I felt safe next to him at the bar.

But I had made up my mind. Steeling my resolve, I shook my head again.

“Really,” I said. “I'll be fine. Don't worry.” Adam nodded, accepting my decision. I could tell by his expression that he was genuinely concerned for my safety.

“Thanks,” I added. And then I turned and left, burning with conflicting desires. As I exited the bar, my hand burned for a second where Adam had held it.

It was freezing outside. I wished I had driven. As I walked away, I heard a vicious cough emanate from the darkness, and I jumped and squealed. I turned and saw that man again – that horrible-looking guy who had just been kicked out of the bar. Scarface.

He was shrouded in shadow, but his blind, blue eye stood out in the darkness, along with his jagged teeth. He was grinning at me again, the same way he had when I'd first entered the bar. Misty vapor poured out from between his shining teeth, and I though I was several feet away, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

I turned quickly away, turning up my collar with a shiver – whether of cold of fear, I wasn't sure. I wanted more than anything to be home. Safe. I felt regretful that I hadn't accepted Adam's offer to walk me home, but I tried to brush the sentiment away.

The street was empty now. As I walked away from the bar, my footsteps echoed alone into the night.

I decided to take a shortcut through the park. Although I loved the park during the day, the idea of walking through its forest path at night kind of freaked me out. But it would cut my traveling time in half. I couldn't resist.

The park was intensely dark. My eyes took a moment to adjust as I entered the path and left civilization behind. Shadows seemed to reach out from the blackness towards me, stirring up fear in my gut. Silence, except for the quiet creaking of branches. They sounded like whispered threats in a language I didn't understand.

And then I heard something else.

Something that sounded like breathing.

Stop it,
I thought.
You're imagining things.
But I began to hurry anyway. My foot snagged on a root which I failed to spot in the inky darkness, and I shrieked and stumbled.

Stop it. Stop frightening yourself.

I took a deep breath and continued to walk. But that sound – the breathing – I could still hear it. More loudly now.

Maybe I wasn't imagining things.

I turned around to reassure myself, and shrieked again as I saw the black silhouette of a man standing behind me on the path. My heart began to thump in my chest, and the skin crawled all over my body.

There was definitely somebody there.

“Who's that?” I called out. My voice, shrill and pathetic, betrayed my terror. The silhouette ambled closer, and I saw a blue gleam near the center of his face. And beneath it, the sickly shine of jagged teeth. Misery loomed inside me as I realized who it was. The dangerous-looking guy in the singlet – Scarface. He must have followed me.

Run,
I told myself.
Get the fuck out of here!

But my body refused to move. I was frozen in place, petrified with horror, as Scarface approached.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” his voice rasped from the darkness. He burped, and the sound made me sick to my stomach. He came so close that I could smell him – a sickly combination of alcohol and sweat. My body continued to refuse movement – my pounding heart seemed to be the only part of me willing to perform any action at all.

“I saw you earlier,” Scarface said. “A nice shapely lady like you shouldn't be going home alone.” His voice was thick, his words slurred.

I opened my mouth, tried to speak. I wanted to scream,
fuck off!

“Leave me alone,” was all I could muster.  My voice was little more than a squeak. “... Please,” I finished lamely.

He just laughed and moved closer still. I could feel the heat emanating from his sweaty body now. He reached a hand out towards me, and I recoiled with a disgusted cry. Finally my body had become un-frozen. A burst of terror shot through me, and I turned and fled.

The darkness was thick. It enveloped me like molasses as I sprinted through it. I could see only the vague outline of the path, moving beneath my feet. I ran blindly, clawing at the air, my heart pounding, my breath rasping.

I could hear him behind me, his footsteps heavy. My skin crawled with the thought of hands touching me, and I pushed myself to run faster. Faster.

But still he gained.

A flash of white light burst behind me, lighting up the forest for a moment, and suddenly the Scarface's footsteps sounded different. No longer were they crashing clumsily. They were more constant now, and quieter.

They aren't human feet any more, I realized. He's transformed into wolf.

It wasn't a man chasing me now – it was a monster, with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

I shrieked with blind, animal terror as I ran. I heard a growl behind, and couldn't help but turn my head, to see how close he was.