by Molly Prince
Curves For The Lone Alpha
A Big Girl and Bad Wolf Romance
Copyright 2013 Molly Prince
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Connect with the author by emailing me at [email protected], check out my blog (where you’ll find more background information about the world where this story is set) at http://mollyprince.com/ or sign up for my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/I3UZf.
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When Carrie is dumped by her fiance on the eve of a naughty weekend away she makes an impulsive decision to go by herself. At least she’ll be able to drown her sorrows with champagne alone in a hot tub instead of alone in her apartment.
It is a decision that puts her on a collision course with James. A packless alpha, working for the government to track down and eliminate rogue shifters. Other wolves consider James an outcast and a traitor to his own kind, but he has a hidden agenda. A mission to find out who wiped out his entire pack… and why.
When these two lost souls find each other neither can explain how they feel so drawn to one another. Carrie, still recovering from her recent rejection, can’t believe this untamed and sexy stranger could possibly be interested in her. And James is at a loss to explain how this cute and curvy human can possibly enter his dreams... and why it feels like they were fated to be together.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
A Note From The Author
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Chapter 1: James
When you run in a pack you spend so long immersed in the scent of your kin that you carry them with you when you dream. Their personality, their mood, their emotions, everything that defines them in reality persists in the world you visit when you sleep.
The elders teach that dreams are much more than an echo of a remembered scent. They believe that we all share the same dream. That when a pack dreams, they dream together. And that this shared dream is a sacred realm. A place of safety, hidden away from a dangerous world. A place where we can run free.
When I dream, I dream of fire. Fire and pain and the screams of my dying kin. My own personal hell. Night after night, I try to reach them, but the flames are too high and moving too fast.
I see her through the trees. She’s crouching, holding two pups either side of her. She’s calming them. She’s telling them not to be scared, even as the flames lick at them and the thick choking smoke curls around them.
She sees me through the smoke. I want to go to her. To be with her at the end. She is not my true mate, it was a political union, but she is still my mate and I still love her. She howls. Kill them my love. Find them and kill them all. She is defiant to the end. It is how I will always remember her. Then there is an explosion, I don’t know what. Something comes hurtling towards me and my world flares with pain and then goes dark.
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I woke up covered in a thin sheen of sweat. For a moment I was back in that fire, choking on the dark smoke and the stench of burning fur. I ran to the sink and gripped the cold porcelain in both hands as I waited for the nausea to pass.
I needed coffee. Coffee and a run. A real run. I needed to get out of the city. Out of these filthy clothes and just run and run until I couldn’t run any more. I wanted to run and I wanted to hunt. I wanted to kill.
That would have to wait. For now I needed to stay put. I spent half an hour on pushups and sit-ups, working out until my muscles burned. It wasn’t the same, but it would have to do.
I couldn’t resist a glance in the mirror on the way to the shower. Even though I had no pack, I was still an alpha, and with that came a certain amount of pride in my physical condition.
Unlike regular folk, appearance wasn’t nearly as important. I didn’t have to be better looking than my rivals. I just had to be able to run faster and longer.
But out here in the world? I put a hand to my face and felt the stubble against my palm. I’d been told I was handsome, but a little rough around the edges. Some people liked that. Some people were intimidated by it. I bared my teeth and grinned at my reflection. Some people liked to be intimidated by it.
I was in the middle of a shower when my phone began to, but I ignored it and took my time. Kent could wait. It was always Kent, my handler. Kent telling me he wanted to meet. Kent telling me he had a job for me. While I showered I fantasized about running down Kent and ripping his throat out. This made me feel better. Almost human. Almost.
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Kent smirked at me over his coffee. He wanted to say something and I wasn’t in the mood to play games.
“What?” I snarled.
“I was just thinking we should get you a collar or something. If lost return to the FBI or something like that.”
My handler never tried to hide his disdain for my kind. As far as he was concerned I was his bitch and he let me know this at every opportunity. He leaned back and took another sip of his cappuccino. He liked to think he was unreadable, with his eyes hidden beneath mirrored sunglasses. But there are other ways to read a man. He could hide his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his scent. Outrage, disgust and more than a little fear.
“How are you keeping Jimmy?”
“I get by.”
“Still have those nightmares?”
I bared my teeth. He was on thin ice here. Kent may not have had anything to do with the fire himself, but I was pretty sure he worked for the people that did. In another life I would have killed him then and there and taken my chances. But it was hard to maintain my rage. After all, I worked for them too. A traitor to my own kind.
I had my reasons. I did what I did to ensure the survival of my race. But working for Kent had another purpose. It brought me one step closer to the people responsible for burning my pack. There was a war going on. A bigger picture that I’d only barely scratched the surface of. Working for Kent brought me another step closer to figuring out who was responsible for burning my pack… and why.
“Dorothy Ludd,” he said, as he dropped a grisly crime scene photo on the table between us, “pretty little sixteen year old high school student. Got mixed up with a bad, bad crowd. Got raped. Got her pretty little throat ripped out.”
I glanced at the photo but didn’t pick it up.
“According to the papers it was a mountain lion that killed her. Strayed into town, found himself a pretty little girl, killed her, and then called it a day. As mountain lions do. Although funnily enough the papers don’t mention the rape.”
I didn’t need to study the photo. It was obvious at a glance that this wasn’t a mountain lion.
He dropped a second photo on the table. A big man, shirtless and covered in tribal tattoos. I didn’t recognize him, but his physique screamed shifter.
“Travis Jenkins. A loner like yourself. An animal… like yourself. Got mixed up in some trouble out west and was facing an aggravated assault charge when he jumped bail and headed for the hills with his tail between his legs. We lost track of him for a while, until Miss Ludd crossed our radar. Turns out that he’s one of Joseph’s boys… and the old man just welcomed the prodigal child killer back into the tribe with open arms.”
Outrage, disgust, fear. Kent was waiting for my response. He knew I had a history with this pack and with Joseph, their packmaster. He wanted to see how I’d react.
“Pack.”
“Huh?”
“Pack, not tribe.”
“Like I give a fuck. Just get in there and deal with Mr. Jenkins or… well you know what comes next don’t you?”
I grunted. I knew what came next. I’d seen it happen to my own pack.
“Dead or alive?”
Kent shrugged, “This piece of filth? Like I give a fuck.”
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Chapter 2: Carrie
I had a choice. I could either sit alone in my tiny apartment bawling my eyes out. Or I could get in the truck and drive to the gorgeous little cabin in the woods that I’d rented for a dirty weekend away with my fiance, correction my ex-fiance, and sit alone bawling my eyes out in a hot tub with a glass of champagne. I’d chosen the latter and was already regretting it.
First there was what felt like thousands of miles of unpaved country roads engineered for the sole purpose of bruising my well padded ass. When it came to maintaining his pick-up I guess my father decided to skimp on the suspension. He was, for all his faults, a practical man and what normal folk like you and I might see as an essential, he was just as likely to write off as an unnecessary luxury.
Then, when I finally arrived, I turned to Mitch to ask him to grab the bags while I got the kettle on… and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there and he’d never be there again and I was going to die alone and unloved. So I spent the next half hour sitting in the driver’s seat, nursing a bruised ass and crying.
The final straw? After I was all cried out, I dragged the bags into the cabin myself only to be reminded that I’d completely forgotten to repack them. Sure, I was alright for things like lingerie, champagne and some sexy surprises that are none of your damn business. But not so good for basic supplies. And certainly not the sort of stuff you’d bring to a self-indulgent weekend of getting over the fact that you’d just been dumped by your fiance.
Fast forward a couple of hours and I’d managed to throw together a decent enough dinner that would tide me over until the next day when, depending how I was holding up, I could either make a run to the store or just call the whole thing off and head back home.
I tasted my spaghetti sauce and allowed myself a smile. Yeah, even without all my usual herbs and spices, the girl can cook. Maybe that was part of the problem. When I glanced over to the patio doors I could clearly see my own reflection in the glass. I paused for a moment and sighed. Somewhere along the way I’d managed to convince myself I was attractive. That men dug my curves. Mitch had always claimed that was what first caught his eye, although he always said it was my culinary skills that won his heart.
But now? Now I was right back to feeling fat and unwanted and miserable. Most of all I felt alone. And feeling alone brought back memories that I really didn’t want to face right now. I raised a tumbler of lukewarm champagne, toasted my reflection and decided that I’d just head straight back home in the morning and try and put what was left of my shattered life back together.
“Here’s to terrible decisions Carrie.”
When I turned to head for the bedroom I felt a twinge in my lower back. The drive up here had really done a number on it. Usually Mitch and I would take our time, taking plenty of breaks to stretch our legs and enjoy the scenery. But I’d driven like a woman possessed for four hours straight and now I was paying for it.
Hot tub? That seemed like a good idea. It was a big part of why I’d booked the cabin in the first place. I like hot tubs. Hot tub, then bed, then home. I nodded to no one in particular and started to make my way to the bedroom where my suitcase lay open and unpacked.
Except there was no swimsuit. I’d left it at home as part of a not-particularly subtle “Oops I guess I forgot to pack them, looks like we’ll have to go without” ploy designed to get the far too conservative for his own good Mitch naked in the tub with me.
So, that’s how I ended up alone and naked in a hot tub, in the middle of nowhere, sipping lukewarm champagne out of a plastic tumbler. All-in-all it wasn’t my finest moment. But you have to make allowances for the fact that it had been one hell of a day. I raised my tumbler and toasted a universe that seemed intent on making my life miserable at every opportunity.
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By the time I had drained half the bottle I was pretty spaced out. A heady blend of alcohol, heat and exhaustion (both physical and emotional) was beginning to take its toll. There was a big warning next to the tub that I had chosen to ignore. It was all blah blah blah pregnant something about blood pressure etcetera etcetera NO ALCOHOL! But everyone drinks champagne in hot tubs right?
Stupid warning. I pretended it wasn’t there, leaned back, spread my arms and claimed the hot tub as my own private kingdom, while a well placed jet went to work on my lower back. As I relaxed I smiled up at the stars that had an uninterrupted view of my big, beautiful and somewhat buoyant body.
Then I discovered another well-placed jet.
Seriously, there was no way that its placement was an accident. I raised my tumbler to whoever it was designed this particular tub and let the pulsing spray of water do it’s thing. At first it was just a bit of a giggle. I was tipsy, going on drunk and the jet felt good. But it wasn’t like I was going to... but actually the jet felt really good.
The water pounded against me relentlessly. With a tiny shift of my hips I had positioned myself perfectly and an involuntary groan of pleasure escaped from between my lips. It felt amazing. I felt amazing. I could feel my breath quickening and my heart beating faster as the pressure of the water against my crotch combine with the heat of the tub and the champagne buzz.
I brought my hips back a little to slow everything down and brought my hands up to my large, round breasts. Floating in the water had made them immune to the cruel pull of gravity and they looked more magnificent than ever. I’d always thought of them as my best feature and had to admit I loved the sideways glances they got when I wore something that showed them off. I felt a twinge of regret and I wondered for a moment how anyone could ever leave these magnificent floaty breasts. Their loss.
Once they were out of the water my nipples stiffened in the cold night air. Impressively large and always so sensitive, they loved to be played with. So I obliged, rolling them between thumb and forefinger as I shifted back and forth over the jet, trying to bring myself to the edge without going over it.
Then I heard a howl in the distance. A coyote? No, not here. I had heard there were cougars in these mountains, but they stayed well away from people. I heard the howl again and corrected myself. It wasn’t a big cat. It sounded like a wolf. I didn’t know there were wolves around these parts, but it sounded pretty far away. Just a big, dumb, lost wolf howling impotently at the moon.
I howled back and giggled.
There was a moment of silence and then my new best friend answered with a howl that echoed mine and I burst out laughing. Soon we were howling in unison and just for a moment I felt free. I was queen of the mountains. I was the wolf goddess. I released one of my nipples and lowered my hand between my legs, spreading my lips to give the rhythmic pulse of water direct access to my eager little nub.
My howl became a moan as I felt an explosion of raw pleasure between my legs. Oh damn. Too much. But I couldn’t stop now. A wave of heat washed over my entire body. The skin across my chest darkening, as the muscles in my thighs began to tense.
When I came I howled like an animal. I enjoyed being loud, but always tried to keep the noise down. It was mostly for Mitch’s sake. He’d never really liked the fact that I was a bit of a screamer. But you know what? Fuck Mitch. Mitch didn’t want this big beautiful body. Mitch didn’t want these magnificent buoyant breasts and the big sensitive nipples that capped them. Mitch didn’t want me to howl at the moon like my new pal did. I howled again as yet another wave of ecstasy washed over me and left my skin tingling with pleasure.
AWWOOOOOOOOOO
Shit! That sounded like it was right next to me. Even as I was still riding out the remnants of an amazing orgasm, my blood turned to ice. I snapped out of it and crouched down in th
e water.
A wolf stood in the yard just beyond the patio. It was looking at me and panting, its breath like mist in the cold mountain air. It was massive. I wasn’t exactly an expert on wolves, but it looked unnaturally large. As it stared at me it’s lips withdrew to reveal sharp teeth and a decidedly unfriendly snarl.
It crouched down and I could see solid slabs of muscle shift beneath a thick layer of glossy black fur that almost glowed in the moonlight. I felt an irrational urge to apologize to it. As if I had been stepping on its toes by howling at it’s moon.
“I’m...”
I heard a low growl in the back of its throat that slowly grew louder and I briefly wonder if I should make a run for the patio doors. But I rejected the idea. I’d never make it and even if the wolf didn’t attack me I’d probably slip and break my neck anyway.
The growl got louder and louder until I noticed it wasn’t actually coming from the wolf. We both turned towards the side of the cabin where a single beam of light was coming towards us. A motorbike.
The giant wolf took a last look at me, snorted and then turned to run silently back between the trees.
I let out a sob of relief and silently thanked my mystery biker. I couldn’t shake the sickly feeling in my stomach that was telling me that whoever it was had just saved my life.
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Chapter 3: Carrie
I pulled myself out of the tub, wrapped the far-too-small towel around my shoulders and made my way back across the deck to the cabin. My teeth were chattering and my legs felt like they were about to give way, but I just wanted to get inside and lock the door before the wolf came back.
The bike got louder as it drew closer. It was the noisy hammering of what my father referred to as a “real” bike, not the smooth mechanical purr of “imported crap”. There were a couple more cabins a few miles down the road and I expected the noise of the engine to start fading as it passed, on its way to one of those. I was wrong. Instead the engine cut out right outside the door.