Dragon's Pride: BBW Paranormal Dragon Romance

BOOK: Dragon's Pride: BBW Paranormal Dragon Romance
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Dragon’s Pride

 

by Ruby Glass

 

Dragon’s Pride

 

Published by Ruby Glass

Copyright © 2015 Ruby Glass

All Rights Reserved

May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission.

Cover photo: © Deposit Photo

Acknowledgements

 

Many thanks go out to those who helped and supported me during the writing process. Your kind words and advice were invaluable. Special gratitude goes out to my beta/ARC team, my family and friends, my writers’ group, and my roommate/coauthor/kittycat.

 

And thank you for reading my story! I write in the hopes of making people happy and keeping them entertained. It’s because of you that I can do what I love for a living, and I will always be grateful.

 

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Kale

 

Twelve women stared at me with absolute contempt. I could feel the hatred emanating from their eyes. Their muscles twitched and their lips pulled back to bare their teeth. They most likely wanted me dead.

 

“Come on, ladies!” I yelled. “Is that all you can do? Drop those booties a little lower!”

 

It was my job to make them hate me, and I admit I took pleasure in it. The huffs of exertion the women put out spurred me onwards. I readjusted the barbell that was sitting just above my shoulder blades. It had more weight on it than any of the others were carrying, and this was my third class of the day. If these women wanted to lift like me, they were going to have to try harder.

 

I glanced at one woman who clearly wasn’t even trying to squat. “Lower, Cindy! That ass should be on the floor!” With her face contorted into a grimace, she dropped an inch lower. It wasn’t much, but it was better.

 

The women kept coming back for more of this punishment, so I supposed they at least found it useful. I had more repeat sign-ups than any of the other instructors at this studio.

 

Of this class, there was only one woman I hadn’t seen before. She never took her eyes off me as she worked out – or tried to. Her skin-tight tank top and capris showed a slim figure, but her form was terrible. It was as if she’d never picked up a weight before in her life.

 

“Can we do eight more squats, ladies?”

 

A weak chorus of “no”s came out. The women who weren’t exhausted yet were going to be by the time I was done with them.

 

“Are our butts going to look like yours if we do eight more squats?” one of my regulars asked.

 

“Yeah, girl! The more squats you do, the bigger your booty is going to get,” I said, sinking into the first one. “You’re going to get the booty that makes men turn around and say oh my God. Everybody’s going to be stopping and staring at your booty.”

 

The girls laughed. “Two!” I yelled out. “You want a big booty? A huge booty? A booty your man can’t keep his hands off? Three!”

 

I knew what the women thought when they first saw me. How were they going to get in shape with my classes? I wasn’t a specimen of physical perfection. I was strong, but I had curves – ones that jiggled. It wasn’t just my chest, which often got in the way of my arm work-outs. I also had a belly and an ass. That was just the way I was made.

 

From the time I was young, I’d loved fitness. I played every sport possible with my four older brothers. In my baggy clothes and baseball caps, I could have passed for one of the boys. That illusion vanished around the time I started to develop a figure. Now that I was twenty-one I made a few concessions to girliness. But I still lifted like one of the boys.

 

Once most women came to a few classes and saw how strong I was, they figured out that listening to me would be good for them. As I looked at the skinny new woman, I wondered if she would ever come to that realization. With the way she was looking at me, I just knew she was judging me.

 

“Four, five!” I yelled. “Harder, ladies!”

 

I lowered my torso, feeling the barbell’s weight pressing down and the burn in my hamstrings. The new woman let her weights clatter to the floor and wiped her hand across her forehead. All of my regulars were fine, although some of them turned to look at her.

 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop! Seven… and… eight!”

 

A few of the women started to stand again, but the ones who knew me well knew I wasn’t done quite yet. “Stay low, ladies, stay low.” Their thighs had to be in agony at this point, but they needed this. “Stay there, and just… pop… that… booty.”

 

The room filled with groans as the women pushed their butts out behind them. The squat segment was over. With a push of energy, I raised my barbell over my head and lowered it carefully to the floor. My biceps rippled under my Adidas T-shirt. The new woman was glancing at the door, I noticed. She didn’t know I wasn’t done with the group yet. My regulars marched on the spot, ready for whatever I was going to throw at them next.

 

After putting them through their paces for another few minutes, I led the class through a cool-down. The new woman seemed as out-of-place with the gentle stretching as she had with the weights. She kept glancing at me while the others just concentrated on their stretches. At least she was trying. I couldn’t fault her for being thin.

 

I wanted to talk to her – not just because I liked to meet everyone who came to my classes, but also because I wanted to find out just what she was about. She wasn’t out of shape, I observed as I approached her. There was clearly some muscle on her. Maybe she was a yoga person. I nodded to myself. From her long hair and slight hippie vibe, I thought I was onto something.

 

“Hi, I’m Kale,” I said, sticking out my hand. “You did a great job today.”

 

“Jersey. Do you really think so? I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

 

The regulars filed out, waving. I thought about how to phrase my thoughts without lying. “You were very enthusiastic. Form needs a little work, but enthusiasm is half the battle.”

 

Jersey smiled, seeming to see through my politeness. “I’m new to all this. It was really hard, but really good.”

 

“Well, I hope you come back.” And not just because the gym didn’t take kindly to new members trying a free class and not signing up. “If you keep at it, you’ll be reaching your goals before you know it.”

 

I cleaned up my station, wondering what Jersey’s goals actually were. She already had a body most women would kill for. As much as I adored my figure, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous of hers.

 

“I’d love to get stronger,” she said, watching as I dropped my CDs and water bottle into my gym bag. “I couldn’t believe how much weight you were lifting. Your muscles are just incredible.”

 

After shaking my hair out of its ponytail, I finger-combed it down to my neck. Maybe this Jersey wasn’t judging me for my belly, after all. She seemed to be as aware of my achievements as some women who had been in my class for months. “You’ll get there,” I said.

 

I nodded to her, ready to hit the road. After teaching four classes, I just wanted to run a hot bath and get into the bubbles with a glass of wine. The calories would have bothered some of my gym sisters, but I refused to count them. Life was hardly worth living if you weren’t enjoying it.

 

Jersey wasn’t done with me yet, though. She stayed at my side as I walked toward the door. “I was wondering, do you do any personal training?”

 

“No. I just teach these classes.” To pay the bills, I had a second job working in a retail store. Jersey didn’t need to know I spent twenty hours a week selling skates and soccer balls to children, though. What mattered was that I wouldn’t be able to train her at this gym.

 

“Really?” She grabbed the stair handle as we walked up them. I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of her before reaching the change room unless I ducked behind the front desk. That might be worth it to put an end to this conversation.

 

I sighed as I reached the top of the stairs. Avoiding her would put me five minutes further from my comfy couch. I turned my steps toward the change room. “I can recommend you a trainer, if that’s what you want,” I told her.

 

“It would have to be you,” she said thoughtfully. “I like your style. You’re strong. I need someone who can stand up to…” She trailed off, twisting a strand of her hair around her fingers.

 

I wondered why she needed me to stand up to her so badly.

 

“I’ll pay you well,” she continued. “Say, a thousand a week for live-in service?”

 

Stopping short in the change room doorway, I stared at her. Two other women brushed past us on their way out. I hardly noticed them. It was all I could do not to slump against the door frame.

 

Was this woman really offering me a job here? Now? Without even seeing my resume? A job for a thousand dollars a week?

 

A thousand a week meant four thousand a month. That was nearly double what I was making now with two jobs. With four thousand a month, I wouldn’t have to deal with snotty-nosed brats who didn’t know the difference between hockey and rugby. I also wouldn’t get to torture snobby middle-aged women.

 

Then again, I would also be able to afford wine that cost more than six dollars a bottle.

 

“I’ll take it!” I exclaimed.

 

Jersey grabbed my hand and shook it again, giving me a bright smile. “I’m so happy to hear that!”

 

Realizing I didn’t know anything about this gig but the pay, I backtracked to cover my ass. “We’ll need a contract, of course. I’ll definitely need more details about the job responsibilities. But I’m very, very interested!”

 

A woman waiting to get through the door cleared her throat, and I hurried to get out of her way. “I think I’m just going to change at home. I’ll give you my number, Jersey, and you can give me a call.”

 

“I’ll do you one better,” she said, shooing the other woman into the room. “I’ll give you the address, and you can come visit for a trial session on Friday around five. You’ll be compensated for that too, of course.”

 

“Friday works!” I said.

 

By the time Friday rolled around, I hadn’t just calculated the percent difference between my current income and four thousand dollars a month. I had also dreamed up a lot of things I could do with the extra money. That couple hundred dollars could let me make payments on a better car, or I could save it and take a trip later.

 

The increase would bring my salary to fifty-two thousand dollars a year! That was serious money for someone who had only gone to community college. I hadn’t planned on becoming a personal trainer, but if that was what they were making, I was definitely willing to try it.

 

The house Jersey had told me to go to was on the outskirts of town. As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the outside wasn’t very well cared for. Although I didn’t usually notice lawns or trees, even I could see the grass needed to be cut. It was growing wild, nearly a foot high in some places. Weeds grew between the driveway’s tiles, and I could have sworn I saw a small animal scurry away when I stepped out of the car.

 

It was strange – Jersey was so well put together. I could hardly believe she lived here at all.

 

Shrugging away my surprise, I rang the doorbell. Jersey opened the door with a big smile. “Kale! So good to see you,” she said. She was wearing a white blouse with black linen pants, definitely not the right clothes to exercise in.

 

“You too,” I said, looking around. The house was dark and gloomy. Dust had settled over the furniture, and the floor was littered with junk. “Did you want to get changed? We can get started right away. I brought a few dumbbells – I wasn’t sure if you had any.”

 

Jersey looked at me in confusion. “Changed? Oh, I see.” She laughed. “I’m not going to be working out. I’m not the one... Let me take you upstairs.”

 

More lost than ever, I followed her up a winding staircase. She stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. “Cerul?” she called. “Cerul, open up!”

 

I readjusted my gym bag at my side. If I was going to be training a man, the weights I’d brought would be much too small. I hadn’t had a clue that Jersey wasn’t the one I’d be working with.

 

When the door opened, I stopped thinking and just took a step back. I didn’t mean to. It was just a natural reaction to the man hulking over me.

 

He had to be six feet tall. Long, stringy black hair fell over his face. The skin on his arms was loose, as if the muscle that had been there before was now wasting away. He swayed over me like a wraith. Just the sight of him made my stomach churn.

 

“Kale, this is Cerul,” Jersey said chipperly. “He’s the one you’ll be training.”

 

BOOK: Dragon's Pride: BBW Paranormal Dragon Romance
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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