Bernadette nodded. “Okay, I can do that. Sure. You have my number?”
He gave her a look, and she laughed.
“Right, of course you do. Okay, be safe.”
He stepped in and kissed her on the cheek. “You too.”
Just like that, he was off. She watched him walk, his confident stride, the ease of his gait, and she kept watching until he disappeared around the bend.
Chapter 7
Bernadette checked her own phone for a moment, holding it up to see if a bar might magically appear. When none did, she put it back in her purse and opened the car door.
A hand pressed at her mouth and snapped her head back. An insane laugh sent sick chills down her spine.
“I can’t believe that worked.” The monster from before pressed his face against her shoulder, smelling her deeply like a coke addict with a pile of the stuff in front of him. He snuffed up the side of her neck to her ear.
“I smelled you. Did you know that? I could smell you coming, even through the car.”
His other hand grabbed at her breast, and then ran down the front of her dress and landed between her legs.
“I could smell you here. You were excited. Did you hope I was here? Hmm? Were you hoping to see me again?”
Bernadette twisted at her hips to get his hand away from there, and she tried to fight him, but his hold on her was too strong.
“Hey!” Louis shouted from down the road. “Get away from her!”
Terror coursed through her. This thing would rip poor Louis to shreds. She forgot about the danger to herself and screamed through his hand, trying to get Louis to go away. The self-assuredness in the way he ran over was impressive, but foolish.
Bernadette finally bit down on the man’s hand, and when he recoiled, she screamed, “Louis, run!”
“Yeah Louis,” the man said, tossing her to the side and transforming into a werewolf.
“Run away.”
Bernadette picked herself up and gasped at the size of the thing. More than that, though, was the fact that Louis didn’t even falter a step. He ran at a full sprint. If anything, he looked even angrier!
The werewolf pitched forward and billowed a roar.
Louis jumped onto the front bumper of the car and used it to launch himself into the air toward the werewolf. In mid-air, Louis shifted into a weretiger.
Bernadette had to hold onto the car to keep herself standing. All this time, and Louis was really a… cat?
The airborne weretiger crashed into the shocked werewolf, and they fell to the ground with a tumble. Furious snarls and roars came from both of them as they wrestled for position.
Claws raked, teeth flashed, and blood few in droplets all over the area. They rolled across the shoulder of the road in horrible combat until there was a terrible sound of breaking bone, and then the weretiger launched the limp body of the werewolf over the guardrail to fall the hundreds of feet down to the stony ground below.
Louis’s form slowly shifted back into a human, his clothes torn and in mere shreds around him. He leaned on the guardrail, panting for breath.
“I understand,” he said between gulping in lungfuls of air, “if you never want to see me again…”
But Bernadette was already at his side, touching the side of his face. Surprised, he looked up at her, his eyes searching hers.
“You’re not afraid of me.”
She smiled, almost sad, and shook her head. “Still not.”
“I’ve wanted you. All this time. But my life… this…” he pulled at the shreds of his clothing.
“Who would want this? I don’t want to hurt you. I realize we can never be together, but I just wanted you to know that I think you’re beautiful. You truly are one of a kind, and any guy—“
She put her fingers to his lips to shut him the hell up. “You came back for me.”
He nodded.
“You came back for me, and you fought to protect me. You put on this big show, but I’ve gotten to know you. I’ve wanted you too, but I thought you could never want anyone like me.”
“Anyone like you? But Bernadette, you’re—“
“From a Podunk town?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Well what did you mean?”
They met eyes, and in that moment, they both felt what the other did. Her pulse quickened as Louis stood slowly, and she with him. Without another word, he reached for her, pulling her lips to his.
They kissed for the first time, passionately. All of the danger, and pent up emotion was finally unleashed in that kiss.
Suddenly she had to have more. Needed more!
As he pressed his body against hers, and they backed up against his car, she pulled at the shreds of his clothing and tossed them away. They always kissed, never stopped kissing.
He felt her body, his hands running along the edges of her figure, and down the outside of her thigh. Blue electricity shot up her body as he dragged his nails back up the skin to her panties. With a sharp pull, they ripped free of her body and he tossed them away.
Her back pressed against the car; Louis wasted no time pressing himself against her, and with a smooth movement of his hips, entered into her.
She moaned against his mouth as they kissed, and he instantly picked up a quick rhythm. Overcome with ecstasy, Bernadette lifted a leg, allowing him deeper inside of her.
They both moaned together as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of her, the heat of their passion like steam ebbing from their exposed skin.
When her orgasm was finally about to crash over her, she threw her head back and called out with the power of it.
He bent forward, biting into the side of her neck lustily, and came as well.
From that moment on, they were one.
***
PREVIEW OF ‘CHOSEN BY HER BEAR’ BY ASHLEY HUNTER
I.
Why oh why didn’t you, Ava Williams, look that boy in the eye, you stupid girl.
I had to mentally chide myself every time after such an episode (one would think that I would get used to it by now, but no). What would be that librarian thinking about right now? Probably not me.
For a bright few moments, he and I were the only two souls in the universe; that is until the stupid woman behind me suddenly decided that she was running late for her weekly Wednesday gym class or something. I would have argued had I not been myself in need of a gym class. Sigh.
Anyway, this has been my problem as far back as I can remember. Not born with superhuman looks nor inclined to induce anorexia to get a body suitable for a Victoria’s Secret model, I was always on the heavier side and that is where problems started with my love life.
Nonexistent as it is. I recently passed through college without as much as a boyfriend to my name. If my grandmother had to be believed, and it is extremely dubious that she is, it is your curves, honey.
I can’t bring myself to tell my dear Grammy that it is 2015. But maybe she has a point. What do I know? I am 24 years old and without a lover. There are not many who can boast that. There are not many who would call it boasting.
Ironically enough I have always been confident in my life, knowing what I wanted and who I wanted. It was going after who I wanted that was the difficult part.
My curves always made it difficult to maneuver boys like other girls did, wrapping them up around their bony fingers. As for me, I have always been crippled with the fear that nobody would be interested in me, just because.
In principle I knew that the world should be a judgment free zone and I should embrace who I am, but damned if the real world worked like that. Everybody likes to dole out principles and paste them on their cars as bumper sticks; living them, that’s a whole different ball game.
No matter what everybody said, which ranged from looks don’t matter to find someone who loves you for your mind, and not your body, I had never been able to get the confidence to move beyond a certain wall to reach a point where a guy actually fell for my brains.
&
nbsp; I know. So very Jane Austen.
Anyhow, this is the sum of it: I am a 24 year old graduate (think of Dustin Hoffman, only female and thirty pounds heavier. OK, don’t think of Dustin Hoffman), no men in sight and the weight of loneliness on my still young shoulders, pressing me down.
Couldn’t a knight in shining armor come along? I shouldn’t think like that. Women don’t need knights anymore. But I need a relationship. No, not need. I want a relationship. Is it too much to ask? Does pining for it make me a villain for my gender? Where’s my John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart? Hell, where’s my Raylan Givens?
Maybe I should not be thinking about fictional characters.
Reality is stranger than fiction and I had always lived by that rule. But nothing in my life had happened that proved this axiom. That didn’t stop me from believing in it, but I had to agree that the strength of my conviction was waning, as is if often the case when you keep waiting for moments that never come.
What happened in the next few weeks is beyond strange. I should never have doubted it.
This is the story of what happened.
II.
The Beginning
It was a dark and rainy night. It really was, I am not stating a cliché of noirs. Thor must be having one hell of a party.
I had been held back at my office due to a sudden crisis in the Middle East. I worked for a political think tank and due to the uncertain global condition; our work hours usually didn’t limit themselves to Pacific Standard Time.
I had my umbrella open but it wasn’t doing much good. The rain seemed to be coming in from all four directions; the wind sure wasn’t helping. There were no taxis to be found and it wasn’t a surprise.
Who would be willing to risk driving in weather like this? I kept on walking, the cold biting my skin like a sharp teethed animal. The thought of finally reaching home, in my warm cozy bed was all that kept me going. If only I had somebody to cozy up to. Hmmm. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I mentally shook myself. This wasn’t the time or the place to think about such thing; though I couldn’t help but playback the lyrics of the famous song in me: Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. Truer words had rarely been said.
Maybe this was the reason or maybe it was the water pummeling the leaves of the trees and the streets and the buildings that I didn’t hear anything whistle by near me.
If it had been a quite night, I surely would have noticed something. But this being the night that it was, I didn’t feel someone walk up behind me. I didn’t feel when they pressed a cloth over my face, the smell reminding me of hospital rooms and oddly, bars.
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Romance: A Virgin For The Tiger: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance) Page 3