Claiming Curves (Werewolf & BBW Erotic Romance)

by Arwen Rich

  Claiming Curves (Werewolf & BBW Erotic Romance)

  by Arwen Rich

  Published by Arwen Rich, 2013.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CLAIMING CURVES (WEREWOLF & BBW EROTIC ROMANCE)

  First edition. November 17, 2013.

  Copyright © 2013 Arwen Rich.

  Written by Arwen Rich.

  Table of Contents

  Claiming Curves

  Claiming Curves

  The first time I saw him, I was irresistibly drawn.

  It wasn't just lust – I mean, that was undeniably there, in the pounding of my heart and the hot blush that spread across my cheeks. And that feeling that made me want to bite my lip when our eyes first met ...

  But there was something else there too – a little bit of fear. Swirling amidst the butterflies in my stomach. And for some reason, that drew me even more.

  There was something about him, some quality of darkness which simultaneously reached out to me, even as it made me afraid. It was strange, the way that tinge of fear only intensified the inexplicable longing that burst to life when I first saw him.

  I think it wasn't only a fear of him that I felt, either. Certainly, that danger lurking in his eyes made me nervous. But in retrospect, I think that it may have been a fear of myself that he brought out in me, too.

  Maybe a part of me knew that after meeting him, I would change forever.

  Let me take you back to the start. Explain how it all began.

  It was my twenty-first birthday. And instead of being out celebrating, there I was at home, bent intently over a book. Studying.

  I had a biology exam coming up in a few days, and it was preying on my mind. I was attempting to memorize reams of information, but my eyes seemed to merely skim over words which were forgotten as quickly as they were read. I sighed for the thousandth time, realizing that my mind had wandered once again from my workbook.

  To travel, of all things.

  Several of my friends had recently gone overseas, and I was always seeing their pictures up on social media – beautiful, foreign scenery in the background, my friends' grinning faces in the foreground. The expressions on their faces spoke of freedom. Of adventure.

  A longing for that – for adventure – bloomed inside me every time I saw those photos. I'd always been a meek, studious person, and now I felt trapped in that pattern. I was stuck at home, trying to memorize facts for an exam, when what I really wanted was to be out exploring the world.

  I sighed once more, my gaze drifting to my bedroom window. The sun was beginning to set, and its golden light illuminated the signs of Spring that were dawning in the garden. The trees swayed slightly in the breeze; they seemed to be awakening, stretching and shaking off the remnants of a long winter slumber. Touches of green were beginning to color their branches.

  My bedroom door was suddenly flung open, and the intrusion shocked me from my reverie.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Came a familiar voice from the doorway. I turned to see Jade, my friend and roommate, an expression of mock outrage written across her pretty face. She had a bottle of something in her hand, and was clearly tipsy.

  “You better not be studying!” she said. “It's your fucking birthday. And we have to celebrate!” She raised the bottle and took a swig.

  I laughed as the shock of the sudden intrusion wore off. “I'm trying to study,” I said, “but I'm not having much luck.” My previous train of thought came back to me – my longing for adventure – and I slammed my biology book shut with a bang. “Maybe you're right,” I said. “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?”

  “You're damn right I'm right!” Jade exclaimed gleefully. “Don't you worry, I have the perfect plan for the evening.” She had a slightly manic grin on her face which made me kind of nervous, but I also felt a tingling of anticipation – her excitement was always contagious.

  I couldn't help but return her grin.

  But my nervousness only grew as I got ready to go out. This would be my first actual expedition to a bar, and Jade wouldn't even tell me where we were going.

  Although she was the same age as me, she'd had a fake ID for years, and had plenty of experience going out partying. Sometimes too hard. On more than one occasion I had been woken in the morning by the sound of her being sick, struck with a terrible hangover.

  I hoped that she would take me somewhere nice, but I could never be sure. Jade had a wild streak that worried me sometimes.

  My anxiety was only partially because of my lack of experience with bars. I usually felt this way before going out, even to house parties with friends from college. And my anxiety usually started the way it was starting now:

  As I was trying on clothes.

  The longer I looked at myself in the mirror, the more dissatisfied I became. I slipped on dress after dress, but I wasn't happy with any of them.

  I knew the problem wasn't the dresses, though. The problem was what was underneath it.

  The problem was me.

  For as long as I could remember, I'd been unhappy with the way that I looked. I was plus-sized, and although I'd been told I was pretty, my curvy figure always made me feel uncomfortable, no matter what I was wearing. I just didn't have the type of body which guys always seemed to lust after – that tiny waif-like figure. I was pretty healthy, but I just didn't have that body-type.

  I sat down on my bed, wondering glumly what Jade would be wearing out. Not that it mattered. She was gorgeous and petite. She would look fantastic wearing a rucksack. She ate much more junk-food than me, and never exercised – and yet she looked like a runway model. I just didn't understand it.

  Jade and I had gone to house-parties before, and as much as I hate to admit it, I had felt an occasional pang of jealousy towards her. She was always the center of attention for every guy, wherever we went. Their eyes just seemed glued to her.

  Whereas I always seemed to occupy some kind of male blind-spot.

  I stood up again, attempting to push the negative thoughts from my mind. I was going out to have fun, to celebrate my birthday. Not to show off. I just wanted to relax, forget about my homework for a night, and enjoy myself.

  And yet I took a long look in the mirror one more time, checking out the black dress that I was wearing.

  It would have to do.

  When I left my bedroom to find Jade, I found my assumption was correct. Jade looked gorgeous.

  She was wearing a black dress too, which only intensified my feelings of comparison towards her. It clung to her figure, emphasizing the curve of her waist, revealing the lithe muscles of her shoulders.

  Why couldn't I look like that?

  Jade turned as I entered the room, and her face lit up with a smile.

  “You look beautiful!” she said. “How do you do it?” The admiration in her face seemed real, and it confused me. How could Jade possibly feel anything approaching the same way that I felt about her?

  She couldn't. Surely she was just being nice.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I said. Jade grinned and gave me a hug, squeezing me tight. And then she said something that confused me even more.

  “You're just being nice,” she said. “But I appreciate it anyway.”

  Jade did not make sense to me sometimes.

  “You ready to head out?” Jade asked, her eyes wide with excitement. I took a deep breath and mustered a smile.

  “I guess so!” I said.

  The whole taxi ride out, I tried to convince Jade to tell me where we were going. But her lips were sealed. She just smiled
knowingly, directing the taxi driver turn by turn.

  And as it turned out, we weren't going far at all. After five minutes, we were at the local main-street, where we got out. Being there didn't really help me figure out our destination though; there were heaps of bars along the main street. This was a college town, after all.

  Jade took my hand, leading me down the street.

  It was completely dark now, and the main street was beginning to crawl with night life. Jade and I walked past hordes of drunken college kids, many of whom checked out Jade – some even wolf-whistling appreciatively. She usually rewarded those guys with a smile, but she never stopped. Pounding music blared from doorways, and and smoke wreathed its way out of bar after bar as we continued along the street. Neon signs buzzed and flashed, and I found myself tingling with excitement despite my nervousness.

  “Where are we going, Jade?” I asked one final time, as we were outside some dingy, dangerous-looking bar named The Howling Moon. Jade stopped to look at me, and I expected her to berate me for questioning her so much. But instead she grinned her manic grin that made me nervous.

  “Right here,” she said.

  “Here?” I looked at her in alarm. Something about this place worried me. I looked up at the sign again – the letters were a cool neon blue, and encircled by a huge yellow circle.

  The Howling Moon. I had heard that name before ... but where?

  An alarm bell rang somewhere in the back of my mind, but before I could say or do anything, Jade had dragged me through the door.

  It was like entering a different world.

  The room pulsed to an animalistic, tribal rhythm which vibrated through the floor and into my legs. The entire bar seemed to be constructed of roughly-hewn pieces of wood, like some medieval structure. The air was thick with smoke, which swirled amongst the tightly-packed crowd of people.

  Dangerous-looking people. A pair of huge bikers in leather jackets, scarred and tattooed, swaggered past Jade and I, leering.

  I stopped at the threshold, frozen by nerves, and Jade gripped my hand, trying to pull me further in.

  “Jade,” I said, “There's something I don't like about this place ...”

  But Jade just turned back to me and laughed. “Don't worry!” she said. “These guys aren't as nasty as they look.”

  Her statement did little to ease my mind. A huge bald guy wearing a singlet wandered past as she spoke, and he turned and grinned at her words. I caught a glimpse of his face and recoiled – one torn, blind eye, and a thick red scar which ran from eyebrow to jaw. His teeth glittered sharply, stirring a sick feeling in my stomach. He turned away and continued to walk, which sent a flood of relief through me. I saw a tattoo on the back of his neck as he receded.

  A tattoo of a wolf paw.

  Those alarm bells rang again in my mind. But they were clearer this time. And suddenly it came to me. I realized, with a fresh rush of fear, where I'd heard the name of the bar – the Howling Moon. I'd seen it mentioned in the newspaper several times. It was notorious for violence.

  And werewolves.

  I squeezed Jade's hand, and she turned back to me again. She must have seen the fear on my face, because she looked a bit more concerned.

  “What's wrong?”

  “This bar,” I said, trying to keep my tone hushed – which was difficult, considering the pounding music. “It's ... a werewolf bar!”

  Jade burst out laughing again. “I know! Isn't it awesome?”

  I knew Jade had a thing for bad boys, but this was crazy. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I struggled to find any words. And before I could stop her, Jade had released my hand and weaved her way into the throbbing crowd of people.

  Not people. Werewolves.

  Helplessly, I watched Jade disappear into the crowd. Without her beside me, I felt instantly vulnerable. I wanted desperately to leave, to turn around and run through the door. But I couldn't leave without her.

  I took a deep breath and followed Jade into the crowd.

  I was instantly enveloped by the feverish throng. Heat emanated from the bodies as they danced around me. Sweaty limbs protruded from the darkness, undulating and writhing like snakes. My senses were overwhelmed by the rhythmic pounding of the music, and I felt myself begin to move with the crowd, despite myself.

  Something stirred deep inside me, something hot and pulsing, and suddenly I found myself writhing along with the other bodies. My sense of fear somehow evaporated in the music, became replaced with a sensuous longing to do nothing but move. My plan to find Jade receded into the back of my mind as I began to dance. I noted with awe that my normal self-consciousness had begun to fade. In the darkness, I became nothing but another joyous, sweaty limb in the burning, dancing throng. It felt delicious. Freeing.

  It was in that moment of release that I first saw him.

  From the darkness he emerged. In a sea of faces, his stood out. He was opposite me in the crowd, and his features were lit by a continuous flash from the strobe lights. I felt myself stop dancing as I took him in.

  He was standing still too – a complete contrast to the bouncing, twisting crowd around him. He was tall and muscular. Dark hair and a strong stubbled jaw. Bright, striking eyes which contained a dangerous, seething darkness – while simultaneously somehow glowing golden in the haze of the bar.

  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.