Curve Charm (Paranormal BBW Erotic Romance)

by Christa Wick

  "Yeah, I've been told that." Leah crinkled her nose. "But it's all worked out. Jack said he was fine with it."

  Esme wrinkled her eyebrows at that. "Coop said okay?"

  Leah nodded, then started chewing at her bottom lip again. "He said it was almost as good as getting you to take a new blood oath."

  Esme sighed and shook her head before a reluctant laugh escaped her. "That old bastard's right."

  Standing up, she circled the table and bent down to give Leah a hug. "And I'd be honored to be your cub's godmother."

  A sharp spike of joy crackled around Leah. She turned her head and planted a kiss on Esme's cheek. "Now, what are we going to do about my baby shower?"

  **********

  Releasing a tired puff of air, Esme wiped a hand across her sweaty cheek, leaving a streak of blue paint. Straightening, she put her brush down and placed both hands against her lower back, kneading at the sore muscles. She'd just spent a full hour painting temporary charms on the walls of the clan's meeting hall.

  Anyone who had spent a little time touring the farmhouses of Pennsylvania would recognize the work. Circles enclosed a geometric mix of birds for luck and happiness, wheat for abundance, stars for more good luck. Colors enhanced the symbols, blue for protection, white for the infant's purity, more abundance, love and luck with green heart shaped clovers and dashes of red to make the love and protection more fierce.

  Alone in the hall, she took another swipe across her face to erase the sweat trickling down her brow. "Who knew baby showers were so much work!"

  Picking up the brush, she moved a few more feet down the wall with a smile on her face. She didn't mind the work, needed it after the weeks she'd spent hiding in her house. Drawing a fresh circle, she felt a zap of energy flow through the brush and her smile deepened. It was probably just the break from what had become almost a 24/7 work schedule, but her magic was seriously juiced.

  Her brow crinkled as she realized the pregnant shifters also could be giving her a boost. Weird how it worked, but that had always been true. When the clan's numbers flourished, so did the magic of its witches. The documents Seth had carried away from the cabin noted the phenomenon, too. The papers also contained nasty spells for stealing that power, both from shifters and witches. Stealing her magic had been her captor's plan. From Quentin's notes, it appeared that he had killed many a latent and lone wolf. Except, if the notes were to be believed, he'd been doing so for more than one hundred and fifty years. Either Quentin was bug-shit crazy or the magic he stole prolonged both his life and youthfulness. The sadistic, gleeful face leering at her as he heated the branding iron in preparation of searing her flesh hadn't looked a day over thirty-five.

  Scowling, Esme grabbed a wet rag and erased the charm she'd been drawing. Hooking a plastic bag, she tossed the small cups that held the various colors of paint in it. She dumped the cheap brushes in next and then tied the bag off. Going back to her work table, she released the dark energy that had grown as she thought about Quentin. With the last of it expelled, she loaded fresh cups and brushes onto a tray, her mind directed at Leah and the baby so she wouldn't taint the magic working its way into the charms.

  Picking a fresh spot a few inches above the area she'd spoiled, Esme visualized the most powerful symbol she could think of. An eagle, gold with red-tipped feathers, took shape at the end of her brush. Carefully guarded within its deadly talons was a wolf cub, a crown of blue eight-point stars adorning its little head. Emanating out from the eagle and cub, she painted a sun wheel of darker gold and brown, red and black rings intersecting the spokes and forming the circle that contained the charm.

  Finished, she took a step back. A satisfied smile played across her face until she heard a thunk behind her and felt Dana all at once. His presence was a fifty foot wave slamming into her. Her knees gave out, her fingers extending in search of something to grab hold of. Paint splattered as the tray and its small cups hit the floor.

  She would have joined the mess if two strong arms hadn't wrapped around her waist to stop her fall. Dana's arms around her, Dana's hands curving along her flesh, one just below her breast, almost cupping it, the other wrapped around her hip.

  His mouth instantly found her neck. He nuzzled the curve of her shoulder and she felt him draw a deep breath in, scenting her. Buried between the generous halves of her ass, she felt the thick steel of his erection, the sensation transporting her back to the ritual.

  She choked on a whimper, tried desperately to quell her body's response as she remembered him taking her. All the thrusts and sucks and nips that had driven her to multiple orgasms crowded her mind before melting and dripping down over her body, hardening her nipples and clit until they throbbed.

  Esme stiffened in his embrace, her throat relaxing just enough to bite out a short command. "Let go of me."

  "Not until you straighten your legs." His lips whispered along her ear. "I don't want you falling and bruising that sweet ass of mine."

  Her heart did a little backflip at his possessive claim. His ass -- his everything given the way her body reacted right then. Muscles she'd tried to ignore for almost a month started to flex and roll. Her eyelids became too heavy to keep open. Not a limb or nerve responded to her command.

  Until he kissed her ear and her legs snapped straight. Her body surged up, the hard upward brush of her ass tearing a moan from Dana's throat.

  "Fine, I'm standing. Let go!"

  "Mm-hmm." His hands released Esme with a slow slide across her body as they traveled in opposite directions, his fingers splayed for maximum contact.

  Trying to ignore him, she bent down and salvaged what she could of the paint cups. Moving a few more feet down the wall, she started a fresh circle, a calming chant running through her mind. A growl shattered any chance of her reaching a calmed state. It was one of those ass-up, belly-down growls Dana made, her pussy instantly flooding in response.

  Her brush hand shaking wildly, she glared over her shoulder at him and prayed he wouldn't growl like that again. "Why the fuck are you even here?"

  Dana stepped closer, his gaze slitting as a wolfish grin curled along the right side of his face. He scented her, nostrils wide as he breathed. Seeing the rapid dilation of his pupils, she knew her arousal had been exposed. He stepped a little closer, his attention locked on Esme's heaving breasts as she bordered on hyperventilating.

  "Leah needed some supplies dropped off."

  Damn it! Esme cursed inside her head, trying hard to be mad at Leah, who knew exactly how Esme was spending her afternoon before the shower started. The little witch was only doing what a female pack alpha would do -- sticking her snout where it didn't belong. That instinct would be even stronger in Leah now that she was heading into the den phase of her pregnancy. She needed everyone happy before her cub came into the world.

  Trying to be angry with her bestie was futile. Dana on the other hand -- he made her wish witches really could turn people into frogs! She’d be dining on turtle soup and frog legs if that were true.

  Turning back to the charm she had been painting, Esme gave a dismissive shrug. "Drop them and go."

  His arm brushed her shoulder as he planted one palm alongside her. His other hand took the tray with its brushes and paint away and tossed it down on the table to her right. Dana's chest pushed lightly against her back, her spine stiffening in response.

  She turned, forcing her hands between them as a wedge. "Back off!"

  His lips parted and a long, rumbling growl -- that growl -- teased its way across his tongue to dance and lick all along her body. His other hand came up, caging her between his arms. "We're not over."

  Leaning in, he let his weight push her until she was flush against the wall and staring helplessly up into the red-gold glow of his eyes. A shift of his hips and she could feel his erection rubbing against the bottom swell of her stomach.

  Esme took a hard breath in and held it. His head dipped closer and she knew he meant to claim her mouth with a kiss. She tried
to turn her head, but he captured the bottom curve of her jaw in a gentle caress.

  "You're mine." He kissed the side of her mouth, rubbed his rough cheek against her smoother one. "You know it."

  His hand left her face to glide down to her breast. Her traitorous body pushed against his palm, begging him for a squeeze and the warmth of his mouth. "Your whole body knows it, love."

  Dana took one deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of her pussy and the warm spices of her skin before his mouth fastened at the curve of her neck. Sucking the delicate flesh of her throat, he dropped both hands to her lush hips. His thumbs teased the sensitive, outer perimeter of her mound as he cinched Esme closer.

  Knowing mere seconds separated her from complete surrender, Esme drew on the wards she'd just drawn. Magic enveloped her, deadening her expression and voice. Cold flowed through her, her skin chilling at Dana's touch. She had the sensation of jagged ice crystals slicing through her, but knew it was just the pain of pushing him away, of denying her body what it wanted more than anything.

  To submit to his touch and be possessed by him -- any other response was pure torture to her.

  Dana pulled back, his hot gaze cooling with caution. Seeing pale blue frost the air around her, he shook his head. "Drop the magic, baby. This is between me and you."

  He countered her mute refusal by cupping her mound, his lips parting as he prepared another warning growl. Esme shook her head, pushed at his chest. She couldn’t let this happen, not again. "Don't make me hate you any more than I already do."

  His hand dropped from her flesh. He stared at her face, trying to penetrate the frozen mask of magic that shielded her emotions. His mouth closed then opened again. He inhaled, slowly, and Esme was certain for a second that he was going to growl at her with every last ounce of his wolf energy, shattering her defenses and bringing her to her knees to dominate her. Moisture flooded her mouth and pussy, both prepared to accept his cock. Her clit, achy at the absence of his body against hers, swelled to breach the seal of her outer labia.

  Her eyes closed and she realized she'd started crying, tears slowly rolling down her round cheeks, tinged blue and sparkling like pale diamonds. Her heart beat inside her chest, each squeeze of blood through the chambers like a heavy hand falling against a fat drumhead. The liquid rush and heavy thrum drowned all other sounds out. She counted the beats until she realized she was alone.

  Finally screwing up the courage to open her eyes, she saw the door swing slowly shut behind Dana.

  "I love you," she whispered, too softly for him to hear.

  **********

  Leaving the hall, Dana drove the long way around to Jack Cooper's. He had no business with the old man, but Coop hadn't fostered out the cub Dana had rescued a month back. Considering the way Angelica, Coop's mate, looked at the boy, Dana wasn't too sure the boy would leave the old man's hearth.

  Oscar's growing attachment to Angelica was the only thing that had kept Dana from separating Jack's head from the rest of his body when the old wolf started going on about forcing Esme to take a new blood oath or leave. That and a last shred of sense that had forced Coop to back down and pretend to see reason. Truth was, the old man hadn't changed his mind -- his time as clan alpha was over and he knew it. Another season and one of the pack leaders would ease him aside.

  Pulling up behind Coop's house, Dana buried the thought. He didn't care who the next clan leader would be so long as the new top dog stayed out of his business. Opening the door to his truck, he heard the back screen slam open and small feet hitting the rocky ground at a furious pace. Shutting the truck's door, he braced for impact.

  "Dana!" The cub leapt, hitting him center of his chest and wrapping his arms and legs around the big man. "I haven't seen you in three days!"

  "Two," Dana corrected, shifting Oscar's weight to one hip as he reached through the truck's window and pulled out a backpack.

  "Three," Oscar argued, holding up two fingers.

  Laughing, Dana pushed another of the boy's stubby little fingers up. "That's three, little man."

  "Hmmmph!" Oscar crossed his arms across his little chest and glared at Dana.

  "Sorry, little man, I didn't make the math rules."

  Forgiving him, Oscar buried his face against Dana's neck. Seeing a flash of red metal poking from beneath the backpack's flap, he fingered one of the straps. "Is that for me?"

  Trying to keep his voice neutral, Dana looked at the little boy from the side of one eye, his brow lifted in a question mark. "Are there any other cubs here?"

  Oscar shook his head, a shy but excited smile lighting his face. He tried to squash the smile and match Dana's serious expression. He pointed at his chest for emphasis. "Just me."

  "Well then," Dana put the boy down on a patch of grass and sank to his knees. Hiding the bag to one side and peeking beneath the flap, he teased until the Oscar started hopping around on one foot. "Okay, okay. Settle down, cub."

  Dana reached inside and pulled out a die-cast fire truck. Squealing, Oscar jumped up and down on both feet, his hands clapping together. Putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, Dana got him to stand still long enough to put the truck in his hands.

  Angelica chose that moment to open the screen door. "You've got ten minutes to play before you take your bath and get suited up for the baby shower."

  Oscar toed a fat pebble, his mouth collapsing into a frown. "Do I have to?"

  Angelica nodded, an indulgent smile hiding behind her raised hand. "You like Miss Leah, don't you?"

  Oscar gave a grudging nod, his small mouth corkscrewing in indecision.

  "And you want to play with her baby when he's born, don't you?"

  Another nod, more confident than the first. His gaze narrowed, one finger pointing at the ground and bobbing up and down as he asked, "Ten whole minutes starting right now?"

  "Not a second less," Angelica laughed, returning to the kitchen and setting the timer for fifteen.

  **********

  From Coop's, Dana drove to what he internally referred to as Latent Central. Without Esme sheltering the women their first few days and more streaming in, Coop had ordered an old dormitory refurbished. The latents occupied the second floor, with a few guards on the second and a rotating house mother.

  Knowing most of the guards would want to attend the baby shower, he stopped by to see if he could relieve anyone. Not a bad plan, he thought, right until he opened the office door and saw Camille scowling over an old map.

  Poking his head back into the hallway, he frowned. "Are all the guards gone?"

  Camille gave a little sniff, her mouth puckering like she was balancing a lemon slice on her tongue. "I think Ash is in one of the supply closets."

  Dana angled his head, his ear twitching as he tried to locate Ash. Hearing a few soft, feminine moans coupled with masculine grunts, a smirk pushed one side of his mouth up. "At least someone's getting a little."

  The cocky grin evaporated a second later when he struck him that it was his mate's mother he was talking to. Glancing at her, he added a second imaginary slice of lemon inside her mouth. Her whole face puckered with distaste. As far as anyone in the clan knew, Camille had engaged in coitus once. The human or wolf, unknown.

  There could be a heartbreaking love story hiding beneath the old witch's bitter shell, but no one knew it, not even her only child. Dana shook his head, trying to dislodge the anger slowly building up inside him.

  Looking up, Camille read his hard stare in a heartbeat. "You blame me, don't you?"

  Dana bit at his lip, his mind slowly turning over the two decades he had lived with the clan. At six, he'd been found on a North Carolina beach, begging for scraps in his wolf form, the other children happy to throw the "puppy" scraps of their burgers and hot dogs until their parents caught them. Beer bottles and rocks would follow that discovery.

  He had only the vaguest memory of the beach and no idea how he got there. Whenever he tried to push beyond to even older memories, his internal eye fixed on t
he ocean with its bands of blue and green and his first night in Camille's home. As a matter of survival, he'd been in his wolf form for so long, he couldn't remember his way out.

  Shivering, wondering if the people who had caught him would feed him again, he'd whimpered in the dark room in which they'd left him. And then she came.

  Esme, as alone in her own way as he was in his. The only human child on clan lands, she was a plump, pretty little morsel with eyes that matched the ocean he'd been stolen from. Like the children on the beach, she wanted to stroke his soft fur. She sang to him while she did so, her voice a soft, sweet lisping sing song that stopped his shivering.

  He didn't want to leave her side, but they made him. When he escaped to visit her, they disciplined him, foster family after foster family until Seth's father took him in and let him run as wild as Camille would tolerate.

  In the end, he'd walked away from Esme on his own, knowing he would never be able to surround her with the children she craved from her own years in isolation and a mother who called her a mistake.

  Did he blame Camille? Fuck yes!

  Lifting a shoulder, he dismissed her question with the larger truth. "Not nearly as much as I blame myself."

  He turned to leave the office, but the witch called him back.

  "I may have found something."

  He glanced over his shoulder, his attention focused on where one long finger pointed at the map. "What?"

  Camille bit her bottom lip, her nail scratching at the map's surface. "It might be an echo, it's very weak."

  Dana stepped back into the room, his hand sweeping down to push her finger aside. She had been scratching at a little town called Walland. Traveling on twisting mountain roads, it was maybe ninety minutes past the clan's borders. "Could be someone half dead, too."

  He scratched at his chin as he thought it through. "If the Hunters have a latent--"

  Seeing Camille's mouth flattened he stopped. "Is it a latent?"