Big Gator: A BBW shape shifter paranormal romance

by Soule, Annora

  By contrast, even a lightweight person can keep an alligator’s jaws shut closed fairly easily with two hands. So, there’s sort of a muscular imbalance there.

  Now that Jenny had been successfully wrestled, Ray had her totally at his mercy. The Catch-22 was, if she shifted back into human form in this position, then Ray would be riding her naked.

  “What the hell happened?” Brandy asked.

  “She just got into town, came in for a drink, and we all know why she's here,” Ray explained. “So I told herpoint-blank that most of us are perfectly happy being shifters, and why does she have to go ruin it for everybody.”

  “And?”

  “And then SHE said that being a gator was miserable stuff – funny how she herself just found it convenient to shift – and that we were all like alcoholics or drug addicts who couldn't see that we had hit rock bottom.”

  Brandy sighed.

  “Jenny,” she said. “Is this your version of the conversation as well?”

  “Yes,” Jenny said. Her tail threatened to swing again, but she was pretty stuck. She was a small gator, only about five feet long. She was shorter as a gator than she was in real life, for some unknown reason.

  “Then what caused things to turn violent?” Brandy demanded.

  “He threatened me!”

  “I did not!” Ray protested.

  “He threatened you how exactly?” Brandy asked.

  “He said that if I – and anyone who I was working workin' with – actually found a LaBelle and did whatever it was we were hoping to do, that I'd be found in a ditch somewhere and no one would know who did it.”

  Brandy was livid.

  “Did you really say this to her?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Ray said. “But I didn't mean thatI would be the one to do it to her! I was only WARNING her about what we all know – that a lotta folks out there are gonna want payback. OR – they're gonna get her before she succeeds.”

  “So in your version of things, you were warning her, not threatening her,” Brandy clarified.

  “Yes – exactly – YES!”

  She eyeballed Jenny.

  “If you promise to calm the hell down, I will make this lech climb off of you and promise not to touch you again.”

  “Why should I calm down?”

  “Do you want this man riding you all night?”

  Ray looked for a moment like he would actually consider this proposition.

  You see, Brandy was the only woman he would ever marry, and he repeatedly asked her, usually when he thought she was drunk enough so that maybe THIS time she might say yes. But he also had an active imagination and creative fantasy life. If he married Brandy, he thought that maybe with time and patience and careful planning, he could finagle his way into gaining access to various female friends and family members – never without Brandy as part of the equation, of course.

  When Ray first propositioned her for a threesome with Marianne, Brandy was too relaxed to be offended. She was always up for a good joke, and to her Ray was just that – ONE BIG JOKE.

  “Get off my cousin, Ray.”

  “Okay, fine. But no more violence.”

  Ray stood up, dusted himself off, and walked out the door.

  “Later, Gator,” he tossed back at Jenny.

  As soon as he was gone, Brandy closed the door most of the way. Jenny shifted back and put her clothes back on.

  “Tell me,” Brandy said. “What makes you think that this time you've really tracked down a LaBelle who’s a bona fide descendent from Madame Eve?”

  “The Mormon genealogy database was updated.”

  “The what?”

  “The Mormons,” Jenny said. “They keep the best genealogical records of anyone on the planet. They're obsessed with genealogy. You can search the LDS database and find anyone. If something's not there, that means no one has found it yet.”

  “And your saying the Mormons found Eve LaBelle's descendants.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “How and why?”

  “The only thing we can guess is that one of her descendants did, in fact, convert to Mormonism, and they must have supplied the LDS database with information.”

  “So who is the person, and where are they?”

  “I can't tell you,” Jenny said. “Only those of us who are assigned to this task are allowed to know any details.”

  “But the person is in Florida for sure?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “But it sounds like maybe there's more than one.”

  “There were three,” Jenny said. “But one of them died last month. Now there are two. We have to deal with them both. And they are BOTH in Florida.”

  Chapter 14

  McEvans noticed that Rachel had been distracted lately. When he came home in the wee hours of the morning after finding Shirley, Rachel was sound asleep in his bed. The next morning, she didn't yell at him, but she didn't give him the cold shoulder either. That was weird. She just acted completely understanding and said that they could go out to dinner over the weekend to make up for their postponed anniversary.

  It seemed too easy, and he didn't trust it.

  What could he really do, though? Ask his girlfriend why she was being sonice?

  He had postponed their moving in together while Shirley was temporarily living on the premises, but he still had given Rachel a key. After Shirley ran away, there was no reason not to move forward as planned. But still, he wasn’t feeling so eager about it.

  Rachel was gorgeous, but Jake kept having intrusive thoughts – like maybe both of them could do better. He would never say to a woman the words “I love you, but I'm not IN love with you” because Jake felt like that was a cop out. Rachel was great, but he was never really EXCITED to see her, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure that he was Rachel's soulmate either.

  She wanted to get married and have kids with him – she had been clear about that. But didn't Rachel deserve more than just stability?

  He needed a woman's advice. But he didn't really have any women in his life that he could talk to just as a friend. He started to consider confiding in Brandy – maybe get her perspective on the matter – but he wondered if that was entirely appropriate given the fact he was her boss.

  Also, McEvans was a bit intimidated by Brandy. He caught himself watching her on the sly with the gators at Animal Sphere. Sometimes he had to admit that she was better at handling them than he was. He'd even had a couple of dreams about her that were, well, strangely erotic. Usually it would start off where they would be swimming in a murky swamp together, and then they'd end up underwater for a very long, long time...

  Anyway, he would have to figure things out for himself.

  He had started having headaches, too – he figured he was just internalizing stress. A headache would come on whenever he started thinking that he and Rachel should take a break for a little bit to figure things out.

  One Friday night after work, McEvans took the crew who worked the gator pit out for drinks at a nearby bar, where he could blend in easily despite the fact he was a celebrity. The bar owner had known McEvans since he was a kid, as did most of the regulars. To them he was just Jake, Bill McEvans’ son.

  Animal Sphere’s latest documentary series finally had been released on DVD, so that night the gator crew was celebrating.

  Brandy joined them, of course, and McEvans more than noticed that on that night she cleaned up nice. A lightweight turquoise wrap sweater clung to her figure, highlighting her upward assets in the cleavage department. Her hair was twisted up and held in place with a couple of what looked to him to be chopsticks, from which a single tendril had escaped and cascaded down the nape of her neck.

  As he shot pool with the crew, Brandy slipped passed him at one point, bringing him a cold beer. McEvans caught a whiff of what smelled like pure, clean coconut oil mixed with something lightly floral. It was nice to have her out with the guys that night. Rachel never really liked to hang out with his friends or emplo
yees. She was more interested in going to upscale charity events that cost $10,000 per plate and, quite frankly, were more about the wealthy showing off how generous they were than actually helping people. The reality was, who really knew where that money actually went.

  McEvans was seriously considering letting Brandy play a role in the production of his next documentary film, which would involve traveling down to Mexico. She was pretty focused on the American Alligator as a species, but he wanted to introduce her to the Central American Morelet’s Crocodile, which was specifically native solely to Mexico.

  With any luck, they’d all even be able to take a few days break after filming just to hang on the beach. McEvans was overdue a vacation, and he thought he wouldn’t really mind spending his vacation with Brandy.

  And with the rest of his crew,of course.

  He had to keep reminding himself that he was Brandy’s boss, and he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. Actually, the problem was that he DID want to overstep the boundaries. He just didn’t know how she would take it, and he wasn’t a cheater by nature.

  Brandy wasn’t his usual type. Rachel was. Then again, he had been accused more than once of being a serial monogamist. Really, he thought it was just impossible to find a woman who didn’t become resentful of the demands of his job after about six months. Women didn’t seem to understand that to run the type of enterprise that he did actually took genuine, hard work.

  Plus, McEvans was one of the few men out there who truly had been lucky to be able to follow his real passion, no matter where it took him, with a large measure of success.

  The area around the pool table was tight. McEvans attempted to squeeze past Brandy at one point as she was sharing a joke with a couple of the guys. Without thinking, he put his hand on her waist, and then slid it quickly across her lower back, to nudge her out the way. He needed room to take a shot at the 8-ball he had lined up on the pool table.

  Brandy’s smile froze for a second, he could tell, at the touch of his hand. But then she went on laughing and joking with her coworkers like nothing had happened.

  And McEvans suddenly got blindsided by a 60-second migraine headache that caused him to miss his shot, forfeit the game, and have to pay up $50 to one of his employees.

  Chapter 15

  Brandy didn't take the swamp for granted just because she was a shifter. She truly was intrigued by swamp ecology.

  In Florida, the term “swamp” described several variations on wetland habitats, all of them valuable ecosystems. Alligators certainly weren't the only reptiles in the swamp, and in addition to the endless varieties of birds and insects, a number of medicinal plants and intriguing fauna made up the general ambience of the whole swampy deal.

  She wasn't satisfied at all with Animal Sphere's alligator exhibit. Obviously, it was manmade – that was the point – it was TOO manmade. She wanted McEvans to redesign and expand it – to recreate a true microcosm of what a descent self-respecting swamp bog should look like – and that visitors could travel through. This would not be inexpensive, and it would be a real challenge to get it done right, but McEvans had the money and she certainly had the time.

  So Brandy tried her hand at drafting up a proposal. This was the first time she'd ever attempted to pitch a professional project to someone, so she was kind of flying by the seat of her pants. She worked on it on the sly when McEvans wasn't around, because she wanted to surprise him. She didn't want to just toss the idea out at him casually. She wanted to look like she knew what she was doing.

  Well, Brandy DID know what she was doing because she had been swimming around, hunting, and fighting in swamps all her life – she knew every nook and cranky of most boggy areas around the state. She just wanted to make sure she looked like she knew how sell and pull off such a large scale project. She was still just an intern at Animal Sphere, after all.

  Brandy had another challenge. She was going to have to bring 'Shirley' in for a reappearance at Animal Sphere. Time was ticking, and McEvans was counting on her to deliver. This was not something she could pull off alone, because that meant she would actually have to DELIVER Shirley, and she could not drive herself – in alligator form – to the theme park.

  She couldn't ask RAY for help. He probably WOULD (not knowing she had the hots for McEvans) but he would expect some kind of payment in kind. She was going to have to ask Marianne, who was going to freak out about it.

  So during another Florida early morning – the time of day where things haven't gotten sticky humid yet – while she and Marianne were exfoliating themselves and drinking sweet tea on the back porch, Brandy came clean with her best friend.

  “You want me to do what?! Are younutso?”

  “Look, he's already agreed that Shirley can come and go.”

  “Oh sure, like your an alligator's booking agent.”

  “I already pulled it off – sort of,” Brandy told her.

  Then she explained to Marianne the incident where she played Victor/Victoria for McEvans, so he got to see Shirley again for a few minutes.

  “This is getting to be dangerous, Brandy,” Marianne warned her. “I know you like your job, but come on. You're starting to put everything at risk.”

  Brandy didn't dare tell her how she explained to McEvans that there was an “unknown, alternate” species of alligator swimming around out there.

  “It's not really that bad,” Brandy replied. “I'll do it maybe once a month. That's enough. He'll come to accept that's all he can have with her.”

  Marianne put down her body brush and picked up a glass of sweet iced tea that was sweating in the sun. She took a long, cool drink, then set the glass down firmly.

  “What's really going on here?” Marianne demanded.

  “I've already told you.”

  “No, you haven't.”

  The two women stared at each other in a kind of psychological face-off. Marianne knew Brandy better than anyone in the world, and vice versa. They'd been there for each other through all kinds of shit.

  “What is it that you really want from this man, Brandy?”

  “I don't want anything that I expect to actually get,” Brandy said.

  Marianne nodded.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured this was what was going on,” she said. “You know, I shouldn't even have to say this – “

  “So don't.”

  “– but I'm going to say it anyway. You CANNOT BE WITH HIM. He is not a shifter. You can't even screw around with him for fun – not THIS guy. He knows too much about alligators. He WILL one day figure out something is quite unusual about you.”

  Brandy really didn't have anything to say to that. She unscrewed the cap on her dwindling jar of coconut oil. The oil was half-clear and melted, half-solid white and lumpy. She dipped her right hand into the oil and spread some on her upper left arm, feeling the smoothness of the saturated fat as it glided across her skin. Within minutes of massaging it in, the coconut oil would mimic an extra layer of her human-reptilian epidermis, easing away the dryness of the phantom scales that were always a part of her biology, but that just couldn't be seen right now.

  “I have another reason for going back in there, and this one you will have to agree with.”

  “What's that, exactly?”

  “I have to go back in and get Hugh and Bobby Cliburn before they get out and come get me.”

  It was true. Brandy needed to take care of business, and she planned to do it as 'Shirley'.

  “So are you going to help me or not?” Brandy asked.

  “And if I don't?”

  “I'll figure something out. I'll figure out a Plan B.”

  “Plan B for what?” asked Jenny, appearing in the screen door. She opened the squeaky door and came out on the porch, letting it snap back on its own before it shut.

  “How come your skin never looks dry?” Brandy asked. “I don't ever see you brush.”

  “Alpha-hydroxy,” Jenny said. “I have a lotion that has both AHA and salicylic acid. I use it twi
ce a day.”

  “Salicylic acid,” Marianne said, “isn't that the stuff you use to remove warts?”

  “Yep. Works like a charm.”

  Marianne asked her what the brand was, and then looked it up online with her smartphone.

  “So you haven't answered my question” Jenny said to Brandy.

  “You've got your own plan to worry about, as dumb as it is.”

  “Oh, just tell her,” Marianne said.

  Brandy sighed and obliged. Jenny's jaw dropped to her ankles. Then she almost fell down laughing.

  “This is batshit insane! And here you are giving me crap all week about going after the LaBelles,” Jenny said smugly. “You know what – just to be a good sport – and because you're letting me stay at your place – I'm going to help you.”

  “What?” Brandy said.

  “Say what?” Marianne gasped. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Oh yes, I am,” Jenny said smugly. “This I've gotta see. My cousin sneaking around Animal Sphere, daring fate. I'll try to give you fair warning before we lift the curse, though, once and for all. So, enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Jenny jaunted off the porch toward the banana trees.

  “Hey – be careful – there could be spiders in there,” Brandy shouted after her.

  A banana stalk was indeed just about ready to be cut down – but not yet.

  Jenny looked like she was about to try to pick a banana from the stalk.

  “Not yet!” Brandy told her. “We'll grab them in a few days.”

  “They look good enough to me,” Jenny called back. But she complied and left them alone. She walked back to the porch and stretched out on the wicker couch, her skinny little legs crossed. She reached down and scratched an itch on her calf.

  “I thought you said that lotionworked,” Marianne chided her.

  “It's just a mosquito bite,” Jenny said. “Geez.”

  In the end, Marianne only agreed to help Brandy out because she knew her best friend really did have to take out the Cliburn brothers, gator-on-gator style. Brandy was bound and determined anyway, and if things went badly, Marianne would not leave Brandy to have to deal with it alone.