Troll-y Yours BBW Erotic Curvy Fantasy Romance (The Centaurs)

by Fredricks, Sheri

  “Thank you…wow.” Not what I expected to hear. Her cheeks warmed as if she stood next to a heating source, which meant her freckles would be having a party. To cover her embarrassment, Ella went to her jacket she’d tossed aside and pulled out her notes.

  Al’s gaze locked on the paper and his smile faded. His eyes narrowed and grew serious.

  Time she got serious, too. “Thanks, Al. Silk purses and sow’s ears, you know. Come sit with me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sit. Here.” Pointing to the empty chair across the café table, Ella hooked her boot heel on the bottom rung and hoisted her fanny up on the seat. Crumpled notes dropped from her fist to land front and center, and made a pile of tissue paper.

  Instead of sitting in the seat she assigned him, Al rounded the table and came to her. He wrapped her in his muscular arms and hugged her body close. “I missed you, Sweet-thing.”

  The thought crossed her mind, fleeting though it may be, that he called all females sweet-thing because he couldn’t remember their names. While she inhaled his spicy scent and basked in the hug, once the demon thought emerged, it stayed rooted in place. Held to his chest, the girls lapped up his bodily warmth and pressed their tips to entice him further.

  The body is willing, but the mind is not. “Let’s talk before you make me forget an important detail.”

  Either Al failed to notice she didn’t do more than drape her arms about his waist, or he chose to overlook it. In any case, he kissed her lips and lingered, drawing his fingertip down her cheek.

  Warm pleasure enveloped her heart and slowly drifted lower.

  He studied her face with heavy lidded eyes ringed by flecks of gold starbursts, tapped her nose, then skirted the table to take his seat.

  Ella crossed her legs at the knees, checking that the hem of her borrowed dress stayed decently low. Remembering every detail would be hard enough, add a too handsome, smiling Centaur and her brain flat-lined.

  “Lay it on me, babe.”

  I’d like to lay it all over you. A deep breath to calm her racing pulse, and she began, “I met Roxie right off. Nice Satyr. She set me up with Cherrie and once I figured out how to broach the subject, she and a couple others in the salon turned into regular chatterboxes.”

  “Did they say which night the rebels are meeting?” Al leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

  “The night of No Moon, like you thought.”

  “Did anyone mention where?”

  Oh, boy did they ever. “You would’ve thought Bacchus himself was going to appear with all the fuss they were making. These rebels—they have a freaking fan club!”

  Al dropped his gaze to the table, shaking his head sadly.

  “Cherrie said they’re all meeting about three hours south-east of Boronda Falls at ten p.m. I could join them if I wanted.”

  Twin lines etched the center of Al’s lowered brows. He met her gaze. “That’s close to the hunting cabin where you were held. Did she say why the rebels are meeting at that location, or what they’ll do once they arrive?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “In the past, there have been humans who’ve become involved with our civil unrest. I wonder if the hunter who kidnapped you knows anything about what’s going on.”

  Unable to contain her hands in a demure pose any longer, Ella covered her hot cheeks with her cool palms. “This is some scary shit, Al. There was a Minotaur client who said the meeting will bring together all the rebels throughout the forest.” She dropped her hands. “How many rebels are there?”

  Al’s lips pressed into thin lines. “It’s anyone’s guess. The numbers seem to grow daily as the insurgents recruit more ignorant mythics.” His fist hit the table and the tissue pile jumped, catching his attention. “What’s with the paper?”

  “My notes. Guess I didn’t need them after all.”

  A grin replaced the worry lines bracketing his mouth, and a merry twinkle returned to his eyes. “You took notes on TP?”

  Ella grinned back. “A spy’s got to make the best of what she’s got.”

  “Believe me, Kalos. This doesn’t come close to being your best asset.”

  Twenty-One

  In his mind, Alek reviewed the area of Boronda where the rebels were to gather. This was obviously a staging area, a first step…but to what? Hearsay from females in a beauty salon wasn’t a foolproof source of intel, but at this phase of the fight, the realm would take anything she could get.

  Ella’s tentative smile didn’t disguise the worry in her eyes.

  He watched her slide off her chair and move to stand at the foot of the bed.

  Her arms were folded protectively in front of her. At the salon, she’d heard more about the reality of their world than her mind could process. Her wide, unblinking emerald eyes gave it away.

  He didn’t want her in their fight; she didn’t belong in it—no more than any other innocent mythological out there. What Ella needed was a faint. A distraction. Something incredible to get her anxious mind off weapon-toting revolutionaries.

  Because of his superior intellect and uncommonly good looks, Aleksander knew he had the very thing.—Himself.

  And Meat Wrench, too.

  According to his wristwatch, they had an hour before transition into his true form. With time on his side, and a flag waving approval from Meat Wrench, Alek approached Ella from behind and slowly rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You look wonderful with your new haircut.”

  The stylist really got it right. Waves mixed in with curls and she’d gone from natural beauty to downright stunning.

  “This sure isn’t my mama’s haircut. I admit, I was nervous going in there.” She leaned back, relaxing into his chest. “I’ll pay you back.”

  Alek whispered next to her ear. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a write-off for the palace.” Smooth creamy skin beneath his lips stoked his furnace. He traced the line from her lobe to the top of her shoulder.

  She turned in his arms. “I want to—”

  His crushed his lips to hers. He knew what she wanted. Her body language said it loud and clear. The Troll wanted him, but clearly held back.

  Time to erase her resistance and set her fantasies free.

  Ella sighed against his mouth, the sweet sound adding to the pressure in his chest. Honestly, what was that all about? When her fingers blindly traced his cheeks, then moved up to glide into his hair, it was his turn to sigh.

  At the back of her neckline, he caught the zipper pull-tab of her dress. “Off…now.”

  “I agree.” Breathless, she unsnapped, unbuckled, un-everything’d his tactical vest and pushed the damn thing off his shoulders to splat behind him on the floor. Her greedy fingers yanked up his t-shirt.

  At the same time, he drew her zipper all the way down. Born to be wild; the way of the mythics, ancient as the beginning of time. Alek slid the exquisite dress off her creamy shoulders and nearly neighed aloud at the wildcat patterned pushup bra she wore underneath. Praise the gods for whoever chose Ella’s clothing.

  Combined with her new sporty look, the new and improved female blasted his sexual hunger like a rocket ship into the stratosphere. Black lace hugged her luscious hips—the scrap of material distracting him with more of the same feline design in thong style.

  Aleksander nibbled the top of each shoulder, and her jasmine scent bloomed over him, plowing great furrows into his memory.

  Typical of Ella, she untangled herself long enough to pick the dress up and lay it across the dresser behind her.

  “Leave the heels on,” he instructed. Gods of Elysium, he’d died and gone to heaven. The most perfect figure filled out the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen.

  So, he did what any pure-blooded Centaur would do; he unsnapped her bra and tossed it away.

  Her hand reached out to his belt, then paused. “May I?”

  Ella going timid pushed him over the edge. He fell backward on the floorbed, arms flung wide. “Have your way with me, wench.”
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br />   Giggles and all smiles, she crawled up his legs and straddled his thighs. “You’ll have to tell me if I do anything wrong.”

  “I’ve never met anyone who did right as well as you.” Barricaded behind a belt, Meat Wrench was having a fit, locked up behind his metal-toothed blockade. No matter how hard his buddy pushed and strained, he couldn’t break through the restrictive material.

  Nipples ripe as raspberries and eyes dark as cedar in winter, she held his gaze while her hands grasped his belt and unbuckled. The back of her knuckles scraped his rising tent and he gasped, sending a delightful backflow of shivers through him.

  Slow, much too slow, the zipper descended. The tracks climbed over his bulge…and then he was home free.

  Ella glanced down at what jumped for joy and licked her lips.

  How could her family treat her so unfairly? His throat closed. She’d had no fucking support system. It amazed him that she didn’t turn out to be an axe murderer. Aleksander stroked her thighs, wanting to comfort her for his own infuriated feelings of helplessness.

  Not that it would occur to Ella to ask anyone for help. Apparently, she’d learned early and well that she had only herself to depend on.

  Pants undone, she began shimmying his BDUs past his hips, laughing when his strong legs bridged, lifting her up, to help with the progression.

  More than anything, he wished he had the ability to change what’d happened to her. To pull her under some magic tree and reverse every bad thing that happened to the child, who became this remarkable woman.

  “Have you gotten word to your family about where you are?” he asked, not wanting to ruin the moment but needing to know.

  “I wasn’t going to tell them a thing, but Kempor Hippolyte helped me to see it was the right thing to do. She took care of sending them a message for me. I hope they choke on it.”

  “They just might if she did what I think, and had Queen Savella write the note for her. Hippy never does things half-assed. ” He slid her wicked panties down and watched her strip out of them. “I say it’s time to boot the old way of living and introduce you to a new life. How about if you and I make some brand-new, kickass memories to replace everything unfair and ugly?”

  Alek took hold of her arms and flipped their positions. With infinite slowness he slid over her body, measuring each swell and indentation, bracing himself on his arms as he gazed down at her. “First, we have to erase every…” he punctuated his words with a kiss, “…single bad memory from your mind.”

  “Delicious.” She smiled as he rolled her onto her stomach. “A blank slate—how do we do that?”

  He slid an arm beneath her waist and raised her to all fours. Ella was wet and ready for him as he thrust into the damp heat of her, immersing himself to the hilt. Instinctively, his hands wrapped tightly around her hips.

  When she tilted her hips to give him even deeper access and lowered her head to the pillow, his heart tripped and galloped away.

  “Dedication,” he murmured, driving deep, long, and slow as their hips slapped together.

  “Endurance,” he panted. “Hands on—” He pushed deep, her body’s inner muscles contracted as she welcomed him inside. Alek slid out, then slammed back in.

  With her ass in the air, giving herself to him, watching a slickened Meat Wrench disappear and reappear over and over again, rocked him to his very core.

  Scents of musky female whirled in the air, and his stallion instinct kicked aside his human half. Wild base impulses flooded his mind, washing away his self-control.

  Alek was helpless to stop the emotions crashing over him. This was more than a sexual encounter. This time it was different, this female was different. A need to protect and guard his mate flared out, wrapping him as if it were a comfortable cloak.

  Hot as molten steel, his heart pumped with vigor. He speared her on the barb of his cock.

  Ella let out a small scream of pleasure. “Shit.”

  There were words he needed to say, but his teeth were clenched. “You won’t remember...” He pulled out and held still until she pushed back and rode him with a curse. “…any life before this mind-blowing, fall to pieces, precision of carefully planned—orgasms…” Tendons in his neck throbbed as he held back his own orgasm with the last thread of Centaur control “…that will permanently wipe—every lousy event—from your mind.”

  Ella was panting, holding nothing back, her hair fusing to the sweat on her neck, her head thrashing on the pillow, spine arched. She picked up the pace.

  Ever the stallion, he bent over her, covering her in true Centaur fashion. One arm supporting his weight, the other wrapping her hip.

  “Oh gods, Aleksander. If it’s everlasting—by all means.” Her breath hitched and she moaned loudly. “Let’s do thi—” She shuttered, her vaginal muscles gripped tight, and she came apart in his arms.

  The warmth that invaded his heart exploded, blowing sensuous shrapnel to every corner of his shuddering body. His mind melted with his hot essence spurting into her.

  When Aleksander collapsed onto Ella’s perspiration streaked back, a startling reality hit—the emotion he wasn’t willing to evaluate before, the one so unfamiliar.

  By the gods, I’m in love.

  And one day, he vowed, they wouldn’t rush their lovemaking.

  *~*~*

  Overhead, migrating Canadian geese honked in short angry bursts, probably discussing the latest traffic report. Their streamlined grey bodies, with necks stretched in flight, were live arrows on a predestined journey.

  The sun warmed Eli’s head, giving him a sense of peace. If he weren’t busy watching the downhill view of the Centaur palace entryway foot traffic, he’d like nothing more than to check out of reality across the fallen log on which he sat.

  With the change of season, the tapestry of the forest transformed. Trees void of leaves in which to hide, a nearby grey squirrel used extra caution in foraging for its food. The rodent scampered in short bursts across autumn’s litter covering the forest floor, constantly scanning the skies for his mortal enemy; the red-tailed hawk.

  Behind him, rustling brush and crunching leaves turned Eli’s pointed ears to pick up the sounds. Small feet, light footsteps, picked a path to where he sat. He turned and glanced over his shoulder, unsurprised to see a crown of red hair.

  Her auburn head pushed through a tight knit of late season, browning vines. The trim and youthful figure of Pennelope followed.

  Eli pressed his bare feet into the soft soil and stood, politely waiting for her to join him.

  A few dry leaves stuck in her hair, and she absently plucked them out with her ringed fingers. The flair of her skirt spoke as loud as the jingling of her many shiny metal bracelets. Wordlessly, she weaved her way to him.

  Side by side, they sat on the log, watching the mythics’ foot traffic enter and leave below them.

  “Did you have any problem finding Aleksander’s room the other day?” Half a dozen bracelets slid down Pennelope’s wrist as she lifted her arm to brush back her hair.

  “No problem at all. I just followed my sister, waited a few minutes, then walked into his stallroom. He was so distracted, he didn’t bother to lock the door.” Eli watched the people below, wondering where Ella was. The last time he saw her was the morning his sow mother went ballistic on her. “Their attraction was mutual and definitely worked to my advantage.”

  “You had time to search his room, then?”

  “I did. Didn’t find anything of interest to the organization, though.” Red hair flashed below and caught his attention. Too thin to be Ella. His parents weren’t even worried, which Eli couldn’t understand. He caught himself shaking his head in disgust. Instead, they were pissed-off, thinking the very worst of her. “I left when my time ran out. Nearly got caught by the Kempor and his four galloping hooves, too.”

  “How? Did he see you?” she asked.

  “His damn door squeaked on me.” Eli shrugged and pulled a folded square of paper from his shirt pocket and
handed it her. “I made it around a couple of corners, then dove into a patch of earth and stayed there until the coast was clear.”

  Pennelope opened the paper, skimmed the contents, then refolded it. Using one arm, she pushed off the log and shook out her skirt, the bracelets rattled noisily. A glint shone in her eye as she reached to stroke his arm from shoulder to elbow several times.

  Eli tamped down the shiver it was causing.

  “Though you didn’t find the info, the Army of Protectorates know the location of Aleksander’s room now. That could prove useful in the future.”

  From the deep pocket of her skirt, she produced a slim silver case of hand rolled cigarettes. The edges were worn and a sheen of tarnish dulled the painstaking pattern radiating out from the center. Her brows rose in question. “Smoke?”

  Eli shook his head at her offer.

  Placing one between her lips and puffing the end to light it, she blew the smoke upward.

  He watched as his diagram of where to find the Kempor’s room went inside the case.

  Pennelope snapped it shut, shoving it back into the folds of her skirt. She tilted her head, pinning him like a laser with her light-green, ancient eyes. “With the gathering only a few days away, they’ll have all the information they need for now. You’re still on target, right?”

  “Absolutely. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.” She turned to leave, then paused. “You’re very important to us, Eli. There shouldn’t be any problem helping you shoot straight to the top.”

  Just what he wanted to hear. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

  In the manner she arrived, Pennelope left without word. The vines parted between her hands, and swallowed her up as she passed through.

  Eli leaned back on the log, crossed his ankles, and watched the goings-on at the palace again. Whether or not his parents approved of Ella, the fact that she hadn’t been home should have them searching the woods for her.

  A group of Centaurs in true form went by, their muscular arms looped around their Centaur females. Eli didn’t know where his sister was exactly, but he had a damn good idea.