Once Bitten Twice Smitten: BBW Werewolf Shifter Menage Romance
Page 2
Just then, he spotted the white bob of a rabbit’s tail, and he salivated. He hadn’t eaten for at least 18 hours, and his stomach was growling like it had a life of its own. Breaking into a sprint, he was soon right onto it, and caught it easily, snapping its neck with a satisfying crunch.
As he finished his meal, he saw another white flash in the distance. He’d eaten enough to fill his belly, but he could never resist the thrill of the chase. Immediately, he ran after it, judging the best way to approach. But then, there was a dark shape to the left of his field of vision. He snapped his head around. It had to be Brad. It was. He saw his distinctive pure black fur and dark amber eyes. The only werewolf he knew whose eyes changed color as he shifted, which was absolutely typical of Brad. Chase snarled. His instincts wouldn’t allow him to drop back and let Brad have the rabbit. He continued to chase after it, slightly better positioned than Brad. But Brad soon caught sight of him, and increased his speed. He closed on the rabbit fast, and made the kill. Chase’s teeth made contact with the rabbit’s back leg at the same moment that Brad snapped its neck. Brad dropped it, his eyes glowing with fury, and launched himself onto Chase with a roar. His teeth bit into the back of his neck and his claws dug into his ribs. Chase was paralyzed for a moment, unprepared for Brad to be anything other than laid back. He yelped as Brad’s teeth did him some real damage, sinking in deep, and trying to tip him onto his back. Chase let himself fall, and they were rolling around in the dirt together, Brad snapping at his muzzle and nipping at his ears. He was angry. They weren’t playful bites; he wanted to teach him a lesson, Chase realized with a shock. He couldn’t help biting him back though, and they rolled over and over, each trying to force the other to submit. A hard bite on the haunch made Chase yowl, and at last, he conceded defeat, the knowledge that he shouldn’t have tried to take Brad’s rabbit pushing itself to the front of his mind.
Brad howled in satisfaction, before sinking his teeth into his kill, and eating ravenously. Chase hung around several feet away, watching him, licking at the surprising number of wounds on his body. As Brad came to the end of his meal, and began to groom his paws, the trees rustled, and rain began to fall heavily. It was soon a deluge, breaking through the tree canopy and wetting their fur. They ran back to the hotel, pausing to shift at the spot where Chase had left his clothes. Standing on two feet again, Chase picked them up off the ground. He’d shifted so quickly earlier on that he hadn’t had time to put them up in a tree before he took on his wolf form. And now they were soaking wet. Brad threw him a contemptuous glance.
“I did warn you,” he said, and strolled over to the wall, his massive, muscled body still naked. Chase followed him sheepishly, and they leapt over the wall and crept back to their cabin.
“I said I’m sorry,” Chase muttered, when they’d both showered, and were sitting at opposite ends of the bed in their boxers, their naked torsos equally magnificent, yet different. Chase’s chest was hairless, and his muscles were long and lean. His skin was the same gold as his hair. Brad was hairier, and a little more solid. He had meat on his bones, and his chest was broad and deep.
“You always want to take what’s mine!” Brad replied, with more anger in his voice than Chase had ever heard before.
“What do you mean?”
“You really don’t remember, do you?” Brad shouted. Chase shook his head.
“You were always stealing the girls I liked. Every time I mentioned that I wanted to get to know someone, there you were, turning on the charm, making them like you, just so you could get one over on me!” Chase continued shaking his head, genuinely mystified. “That’s why we fell out. That’s why we’re no longer friends!”
“We were teens,” Chase said. “It was all about proving ourselves, about beating the competition. It was natural!”
“Yes, that’s what your father had you believe, because he had this macho thing going on, and he wanted to indoctrinate it into you!” Brad said. Chase frowned.
“My father was pushing me a lot. But that was his duty as the Alpha of the pack.”
“Not to the point that it made you a complete asshole!” Brad yelled. “Now, leave me alone, Chase. I’m going to sleep.” Brad lay down at the edge of the bed, as far away from Chase as possible, pulled the cover over him, and in seconds he was asleep.
Chase prowled around, staring at Brad’s sleeping form, his head spinning. Had he really stolen girls from Brad? Or from anyone else? It had all been part of the thrill of the chase for him. That’s what you do as an Alpha, as his father had told him repeatedly. His wolf whined, uncomfortable at sleeping so close to Brad, when he could virtually feel the hostility radiating from him. He considered shifting and sleeping on the rug, but he didn’t have the energy right now. Eventually, he lay down on the opposite edge of the bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter Two
Aspen Richardson charged ahead of one of the Lone Star Rollergirls’ blockers. One of Aspen’s teammates had stumbled, letting the Lone Star jammer slip through. If no-one caught her, she’d take the jam, and her team would win the entire game. Aspen fixed her eyes on the blonde ponytail whipping from side to side, and increased her speed. She went out wide, using the banked track to lend her momentum, and swung in again, pulling in front of the jammer. The girl didn’t see her coming and she staggered, her skate connecting with a blocker from her own team. She snatched at Aspen’s arm for balance, but Aspen pulled away in time, and the girl went down. In the confusion, Aspen’s team’s jammer passed by the Lone Star’s blockers. Aspen caught the girl’s hand, pulling her forward in a whip, and the girl broke through, lapping the track once, and then twice before the whistle blew for the end of the jam. The Missing City Rollergirls had won the game! They’d be in with a chance of promotion for the next season! Their supporters went crazy, whooping and screaming.
“Great job, Aspen!” Lisa Edwards, also known as Lisa Lava, hollered, slapping her on the back as she passed by on her way to the changing room. A couple of the other girls squeezed her shoulder, shouting words of congratulation as well. And, as Aspen opened the door to the changing room, she was greeted with a chorus of whoops and clapping. All the girls, some of them already half undressed, rushed her, and lifted her high into the air. Aspen shrieked and laughed in delight.
“Hey! Put me down before you all slip a disk or something!” she shouted.
“You were amazing, honey!” Debs, one of her best friends yelled.
“You’re telling me? The way she took that Lone Star loser out was incredible!” Winona exclaimed.
“Thanks guys!” Aspen said, once she was safely on solid ground again. She staggered a little, light-headed from all the attention, as well as the heat in the changing room.
“You go, girl,” Winona said, slapping her on the ass as a parting shot, before returning to her area of the room to continue getting undressed. Aspen was still wearing her helmet. She pulled it off, grossed out by the fact that her hair was drenched, plastered to her forehead, and clinging to her cheeks in sweaty ringlets. She stripped off her wifebeater, emblazoned with the Missing City logo, her black spandex shorts, red fishnet pantyhose and long socks, and walked over to the mirrors in her bra and panties to wipe off the warrior make-up she, like all of the girls, had striped across her face.
Aspen loved being part of the roller derby team, and she’d come to love the post-game changing-room ritual as well. For the first time in her life, she was one of the girls. Sure, there were one or two skinny-minnies, but everyone else was a similar size to her, and they were all really tough, kick-ass girls. They walked around naked as they were getting changed, and everywhere she turned there were huge boobs, generous thighs and ample asses. When she’d first started playing with the team, she’d been shy, running into a restroom cubicle to change. But then it had dawned on her that everyone else looked a lot like she did, and that they were hanging out naked, not ashamed of their bodies, and she started to do the same. It was so liberating! She found hersel
f admiring the curves of the other girls, seeing that they were all the sexier for not being stick thin. Finally, the nasty voices from her childhood that had haunted her for so long began to recede. Her cursed parents had named her Volupta. Volupta Aspen Richardson. What a ridiculous name for a start, culled from her mother’s obsession with cheesy romance. What kind of name is Volupta? the kids at school asked. It means ‘bliss’, she’d answered. But then some smart-ass kid had discovered that it could have another meaning as well. It means fat! David Green had yelled triumphantly in the middle of class one morning. Then, of course, she’d become ‘Fat Aspen’. And, as if it’d been a self-fulfilling prophecy, her youthful puppy fat had turned into adult voluptuousness, which she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried. She had F cup breasts, big round hips, and thighs that would never look good in hold-ups. But since she’d joined the Missing City girls, she’d stopped seeing her body as something to be embarrassed about.
Her make-up had dried like greasepaint, and she scrubbed hard to get rid of it. She noticed that her pale blue eyes were shining and her cheeks were glowing. Even her full, cupid’s bow lips were a deep red. She’d probably been biting them in concentration. She ran her hand through her dark hair with its cherry-red tint, very glad she’d be washing it in a moment. Finishing up, she walked over to the rest of her clothes, added her bra and panties to the pile, and headed for the showers.
When the team was all showered, with hair dried and make-up applied, they headed out for their usual post-game food and drinks. What a hot bunch of girls they all are! Aspen thought, looking at her teammates with a secret smile. Lisa always wore a corset, even while eating, which accentuated her small waist and made her cleavage unbelievable. Winona was always in a pencil skirt that clung to her dangerous curves like glue, while Elise was in a goth-style petticoat, black fishnets and a blue satin bodice. Aspen had picked out a tight black band-shirt with a scoop neck that flaunted her cleavage to good effect. She’d rolled the sleeves up, to show off her new frangipani arm-band tattoo, and teamed it with a pleated plaid skirt, pantyhose with bows on the backs of the thighs, and heavy black boots that laced up to her knees. She was a rock chick at heart, and these were things she’d yearned to wear before she’d joined the team, but had never dared to. Her short bangs hung straight across her forehead, and she’d finger dried her hair so it fell in loose waves.
They headed to Broadway Diner for food, as usual. Val, the owner, was used to them coming in after a game, and automatically reserved his two largest booths for them.
“Did you win, ladies?” he called as they walked in, and he whooped and high-fived them as they confirmed that yes, they’d kicked those Lone Star girls’ asses. A couple of jaws dropped among the clientele, with most of the eyes sliding towards them admiring. But when a guy on a stool by the bar gave a low, sneering whistle, Aspen saw Val lean over and tap him on the cheek. She lifted her chin and kept walking. Things like this still hurt, regardless, but she was going to push it out of her mind and not let it ruin her evening.
The girls ordered bacon cheeseburgers, and multiple helpings of fries and onion rings, along with alcoholic shakes. They all ate ravenously, Aspen tucking into her burger with no guilt, in celebration of her athletic endeavors. They had ice cream for dessert. The diner did the best ice cream in town, made with New England cream, with retro toppings. The conversation was lively, and livelier still as the shakes went down. There was excited commentary on the game: did you SEE that Lone Star girl go down, when Winona sunk her an elbow in the diaphragm? That jammer’s a pussy! Aspen knocked the shit out of her! I thought that girl wasn’t gunna get up again! Aspen joined in with the others, jumping out of her seat and taking part in comical action replays.
Afterwards, most of them went on to Jacey’s, one of their favorite bars, which had a small dance floor and a good enough mix of music to keep all the girls happy. They ordered cocktails and piled into a single large booth together. The alcohol hit Aspen fast, as it always did after playing sports, and, after her first Piña Colada, she was dizzy in a good way. When Debs pulled her onto the dance floor she didn’t resist, and they were soon dancing away to Kelly Clarkson.
Twenty minutes later, Aspen was thirsty and in need of refueling. She went to the bar and ordered a Cosmopolitan. She drank a glass of water straight down while she was waiting, gazing around at the crowd. A guy came into her peripheral vision, and she automatically turned her head towards him. The color drained from her face when she realized who it was. Luke Maslin. The guy she’d had a huge crush on at high school, and who had totally humiliated her by laughing in her face when she’d admitted it to him. She was so horrified to see him that she could do nothing but stare, her upper lip still moist from the glass of water. He’d not only laughed; he’d told everybody about it, mocking the fat girl who had dared think she might be good enough for him. Her cheeks burned with shame at the recollection. Get ahold of yourself, girl! she told herself. He was as handsome as ever, with his dark hair, chiseled jaw and perfect teeth, but he’d stopped being attractive to her as soon as he’d treated her like she was nothing. But the sad part is that he probably thinks that I’m staring at him because I still like him, she realized.
“How’s it going, Aspen?” he drawled. She didn’t dignify his words with an answer. “I wish they’d put a sign on the door warning me it was chubby chaser night tonight,” he said, with a nasty grin. Aspen thought about all the things she could say to him, drawing attention to time he’d spent in jail for credit card fraud, the loser job she knew he was doing. But no, she was better than that.
“Fuck you, Luke Maslin!” she yelled, loud enough for everybody around her to hear. “You’re a pathetic piece of shit, who can only make yourself feel better by making other people feel bad. I’m proud of who I am. We’re not in high school anymore, and being a decent person actually counts for a lot in this world!”
“This guy giving you some trouble?” Winona yelled, stomping over. She was joined by Kelly and Debs.
“No, he’s just leaving,” Aspen said, very emphatically. To her great relief, Luke slunk away. They watched as he left the bar, shouldering people aside as he went.
“What’s going on, babe?” Debs asked her.
“Oh nothing.” Aspen shook her head. “Just an unwelcome blast from the past, is all.”
“You want to talk about it, honey?”
“No. Thanks guys, but I don’t want to give that loser anymore airtime. I’m glad I had the balls to say what I said, but that’s all. End of.”
“Ok, if you’re sure?”
“I am.” Aspen beamed at them, reassuringly, and they pulled her back onto the dancefloor.
She continued to dance for maybe half an hour, but the incident had taken the sparkle out of her. When her legs began to feel heavy, she made her excuses and left. She lived just over a mile away, and she chose to walk home instead of taking a taxi, hoping the crisp air would clear her head. Leaving the bar, she turned a corner off the main street, and he was there. He was leaning on some beat-up, piece-of-shit car, smoking, and leering at her. Adrenaline exploded in her chest and her heart started to beat triple-time. Had he been waiting for her? There was no way of avoiding walking past him. As she came close, she could see that he was more wasted than she’d realized in the bar. His eyes were bloodshot and a little wild. He pushed himself off of the car and staggered towards her, stretching his arm out as if to put it around her shoulders.
“So, fat Aspen has finally grown herself a pair,” he slurred. “Well, well. I never thought I’d live to see that day.” Aspen ducked under his arm, with the automatic, not-needing-to-think-about-it, lightning reaction she’d learned from roller derby. Without the support he was expecting, Luke lurched forwards, teetered across the sidewalk, and crashed into the wall on the far side. She was very tempted to help him on his way down, with a crunching blow to his shoulder, but she restrained herself. Instead, she stood and looked down at him, lying in a heap, near a pile
of dog poop.
“It would be hard to find a better analogy for a piece of shit, right now, Luke,” she said, before turning on her heel and striding off in the direction of home.
Aspen walked fast. She’d faced Luke Maslin and won. Twice. All those times at high school when she’d cried in her bedroom, thinking about the smart-ass things she wanted to say to him, and she’d finally done it. She’d shown him, and herself, what a lowlife he was. But still, it was a rotten victory. He’d stepped out from her past and stuck a filthy finger into the wound that never healed. Aspen had never had a boyfriend. Although she’d come to accept, and even to enjoy her body, the way Luke had treated her at high school was a constant reminder, a nasty little whisper in her ear, that any guy she liked would reject her, and laugh at her for daring to like him. She held back her tears as long as she could, but soon she could hardly see from the fountain welling up in her eyes. There was no-one around in the quiet little town to see her, and she let them flow. Bitter tears of eternal rejection. She didn’t stop until she was home, and turning the key in the door. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and crept in quietly, in case anyone was still up.