Curves for the Werewolf Cowboy (Paranormal BBW Erotic Romance, Alpha Wolf Mate) Read online

  “Who?”

  “Amber. The bartender at the Rattlesnake Tavern. You gave me your number last night.”

  “Hello, Amber. I like that name. I like it a lot, actually.”

  “Thank you. Do you have a name yourself?”

  “Yes, the name’s Clay Riley.”

  “I’ll be honest, Clay. I don’t know why I called you. I don’t have anything much to say right now.”

  “Well, what do you say to dinner tonight? I’ve got a meeting coming up at four, but should be out by six-thirty at the latest. I could pick you up sometime around eight or so.”

  “I—I don’t know. I think I’d feel more comfortable if I maybe met you there or something.”

  “Point taken. Well, where do you want to go?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Anything you pick is fine.”

  “Nahh, I’m not from around here. You’d know better than me. I’ve got to run. Listen, I’m gonna give you my secretary’s number. Call her when you’ve made a decision and she’ll make the reservation.”

  Clay rattled off the secretary’s number and I wrote it down under the number already on the napkin. We said goodbye and he hung up.

  For the next hour or so I searched around on Yelp for places to go for dinner. I knew Houston pretty well, but I figured a businessman like Clay would probably be more interested in something a bit fancier. I finally settled on a steakhouse in north Houston; quality food, but not too pretentious. I dialed up his secretary and asked her to make a reservation for 8:30 PM. That would give a little time to get there early and get settled before he arrived.

  After the reservations were all settled, I spent the next few hours getting ready. I was having the most difficult time deciding what to wear. Nothing seemed to fit well. Normally, I’m a pretty confident girl. I get hit on at the bar all the time, but that was usually just by drunk ranch hands. I was comfortable in jeans and a tank top, but I was a bit wary when it came to dressing up. What made things worse was that for some reason I felt obligated to impress Clay. I wanted him to like me.

  I tried on dress after dress. What I was really doing was trying to hide my curves, or at least highlight the good while hiding the bad ones, but with each dress I felt increasingly self-conscious. I fell back on my bed, already exhausted with the process. I don’t know what I was so worried about. Clay had asked me out, after all. But there was something about him, intriguing, yet intimidating. Is it crazy to say that I was still kind of scared of him? That this was precisely what was driving me toward him?

  I got back up and tried on one last dress, a tight, black number, that against all odds seemed to work. I laughed as relief came over me. At least this aspect of the night was settled. I looked at the clock. It was almost seven. It would take me at least a half hour to get to the restaurant from my apartment. I knew I’d better hop in the shower soon if I planned on getting to the restaurant ahead of Clay.

  About forty minutes later I was out the door, keys in hand and a purse dangling over my shoulders. It looked like I’d be putting makeup on in the car. Really, I didn’t need to be in this much of a rush, but my nerves were working overtime; I wanted to get to the restaurant and have a drink at the bar to calm down before Clay got there.

  Traffic was heavier than I expected. I applied my mascara as I stopped at a red light. I was speeding like crazy, not because I was late, but because I was so worked up. I liked driving fast; there was something about it that eased the tension.

  Luckily enough, I found a parking garage right near the restaurant. It would only be about a two block walk from my car to the front door, which was a blessing given that I had on four inch heels. Was I perhaps overdoing it? I didn’t know. I had no idea what Clay liked. But I thought I looked good, that was all that mattered.

  I walked into the steakhouse and past the maître d’s podium.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” asked the maître d’.

  “I’m here to meet someone at eight-thirty, but I think I’ll have a drink while I wait.”

  “As you wish,” said the man, pointing me toward the bar.

  My heels clicked on the marble floors as I walked to the bar. I saw a tall man in a dark grey suit seated at the near side of the bar. I couldn’t see the man’s face, but I immediately knew who it was. How could I mistake him? That dark hair, and his tall and imposing figure. He had this aura about him, a sort of presence that was hard to state the meaning of. My heart beat double-time. Just then Clay turned and looked toward me, flashing a grin more playful than anything I’d seen from him so far.

  That smile, wow. He needed to show it more. I didn’t know why I’d been so intimidated by him. He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe I was reading too much into things before. I knew I had a tendency to drama sometimes. I needed to just take it easy and tonight would probably go just fine. I still needed that drink, though. I was still nervous as all get out.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re even more gorgeous than I anticipated.”

  I blushed. “Thank you,” I said.

  “You want to go be seated?”

  “Sure, but could we maybe have a drink here at the bar first? I’ll be honest, I feel pretty nervous right now.”

  “Of course, order whatever you want. There’s no rush. We’ve got the whole night.”

  “I’ll have a gin and tonic,” I said to the bartender.

  “What kind of gin?”

  “I’ll take Tanqueray,” I said, shooting a sideways glance at Clay.

  “You’ve got great taste,” he said with a wink. “That’s my gin of choice, too.”

  “Oh yeah? I thought you only drank bourbon, Woodford Reserve if my mind serves me well.”

  “Indeed,” said Clay, tapping his fingers on the tumbler in front of him.

  The bartender brought out my gin and tonic and I took a nice, deep drink of the cool clear liquid in front of me. Almost immediately, I felt myself loosen up. There were times like this where one needed to be grateful. Here I was with a handsome man on a nice date. What was there really to be worried about? If worse comes to worst, I’ll at least get a nice meal out of it, something far ritzier than I could normally afford with my tips from the bar. I decided to relax and just take it easy.

  After I’d finished my drink, Clay asked the bartender if he could have someone seat us. They had a table prepared near the front of the restaurant, next to the window that gave a view out to the city street, all sorts of lights and colors blazing in the night as traffic streamed by. It was crazy to me how even on a Sunday, Houston was still bustling and busier than ever. Then a strange idea came to my mind.

  “You said you had a meeting today? You really work on Sundays?”

  “Not usually. But this was important and pretty time-sensitive.”

  “What’s that all about?”

  “We’ve got a big deal going. A merger between two companies.”

  “Yeah? And what’s your role in all this?”

  “I own one of the companies.”

  My jaw dropped. I was so shocked I almost spilled the new drink the waiter had just placed in front of me. I thought I’d calmed down, but my nerves roared right back. I knew there was something different about Clay, but I didn’t know he was this much of a big shot. Suddenly, I was feeling insignificant and insecure, self-conscious and shy. I caught myself and tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe if I acted like I was unimpressed I would seem more nonchalant.

  “How do you like it? You know, running a company and all?” I asked, stirring my drink before taking a small sip.

  “Well, it’s alright. Truthfully, I didn’t really have a choice. It was my father’s business and after he passed away, my brothers and I inherited it. I’m the oldest of the group, the leader in a sense. So the responsibilities fell to me.”

  “How many brothers do you have?”

  “I’ve got five.”

  I nearly spit out the sip I’d just taken. This piece of news was just as surprising about the de
tails of his occupation.

  “Wow, that’s crazy. I can’t even imagine that, being part of a family that big. I grew up an only child.”

  “It was great, a lot of happiness, a lot of security. I trust my brothers with my life. And I know they feel the same about me.”

  “That sounds nice,” I said.

  I sat there, stirring the straw in my glass, not really knowing what to say after that. A strange calm had descended on the table when Clay spoke. There was a passion in his voice, strong yet subdued, when he talked about his brothers. Maybe this was how most people felt about their siblings, but it just seemed strange to me having been an only child. I never had a connection like that. I never felt like I was really part of anything. My thoughts were moving in a strange direction, I thought. I did my best to move my mind back to Clay and the conversation at hand.

  ~ Clay ~

  She’s sitting here smiling at me, nodding her head at all the right times. In a certain sense, she’s listening, participating in the conversation. But I can tell her mind’s wandering. She never had siblings, she told me that much. But there’s more: she never had a happy home life in general. She’s never felt safe, always on her guard.

  She’s afraid to let someone close. There was someone in her past who hurt her, so she’s reluctant to put herself out there. She knows most men aren’t good enough for her, but she’s also insecure. She thinks she’s not good enough for most men, either.

  Right now she’s wondering why I’m here with her, wondering why I asked her out. She thinks she’s not good enough for me. She’s cataloging her flaws as we speak, weighing the pros and cons of her being. She thinks it’s not adding up. She thinks I’m too good for her. She wants me, but she’s afraid to want me. Part of her is afraid of me. She doesn’t know why. But I know why.

  I could tell her this minute that I want her. I could tell her why. I could speak of my insatiable urge, how the moment I stepped foot in Houston I began to sense her presence. I could tell her that this strange force led me to her bar, that I was incurably attracted to her, that her scent drove me mad, that the sight of her played games with my sanity.

  But if I told her this right now she’d run out of the restaurant screaming. If she’s scared of me now, how crazy would I sound if I told her the truth of my existence? No, it’s better to wait. Hard as it is, I have to bide my time and wait for that one moment. She has to trust me first.

  ~ Amber ~

  The plates came out hot, the steaks cooked medium rare. A bottle of wine was brought over. I stole a glance at the drink menu. Had Clay really just paid three hundred dollars for a bottle of wine? This better be the best wine I’ve ever had, I thought. The waiter poured us each a glass and we clinked our glasses together.

  The wine didn’t disappoint. And neither did Clay. I found myself more enthralled with each word he spoke. He was so down to earth despite everything, and I don’t know if it was the wine or just him, but my nerves started to ease. All the anxiety and apprehension drifted away and I finally felt comfortable being myself. Sure, I still wanted to impress, but Clay was easy to talk to. We shared the same sense of humor. Simply put, I liked being around him.

  My mind started to drift to where the night was heading. Our conversation was smooth, but there was still a sort of unspoken tension. I think we both wanted each other, but we were dancing around the question. And truthfully, I’m not the type of girl who takes these situations lightly. I wasn’t about to have some sort of one night stand with a businessman passing through town. How cliché would that be? Yet, I couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to be with him. Even beneath the suit I could see the strength his body was capable of. And that face, how could I get over it? His personality, his subtle wit and undeniable charm. It all seemed too perfect.

  ~ Clay ~

  She wants to sleep with me, but she’s doesn’t trust me. It’s more than that, she’s doesn’t trust herself around me. She wants more than a fling, but does she want what I’m thinking? Steadfast loyalty, devotion, trust, security.

  She drives me wild. I can’t deny that. I would take her this instant, but I know she’s not ready. How long can I wait? This desire is overwhelming. It takes all my power to hold myself back. Now that she’s here before me, it’s almost impossible to constrain this impulse, this intrinsic desire to have her. Not only to have her, but to make her mine, bring her into my pack. Could she understand my desire? Can she see how it’s not some simple lust, but something more, something entirely different in it’s very nature?

  I have to hold myself back. She’s not ready. I have to keep telling myself that: she’s not ready.

  ~ Amber ~

  Dinner came to a close and I admit I was feeling a bit tipsy from all the wine. I was starting to consider reverting my policy of no one night stands. I deserved a little fun. I was being realistic. What could it hurt?

  After Clay paid our bill, we walked a few blocks to a bar I knew in the area. I didn’t want the night to end just yet. And I thought maybe if I got another drink or two in me, I’d give in and make the mistake and go back with him to his hotel. But was it really a mistake? If I were to sleep with Clay, even if only for a night, what would be so bad about that?

  Part of me still knew I’d regret it when it was over, if only for the reason that I’d want to keep seeing him and inevitably he’d be heading back to Dallas. But I couldn’t keep thinking like this; thinking of the distant future would only impede me from having a good time tonight. I needed to live in the moment, to take advantage of what life was offering me.

  ~ Clay ~

  She wants to be spontaneous. She’s wondering how she’ll feel tomorrow morning. Will she regret it? She thinks so. Does she still want to sleep with me? Of course. She’s drawn to me. In her mind she thinks it’s just attraction. She sees my face, my muscles. She likes the jokes I tell. She thinks it’s normal human attraction. She doesn’t realize there’s more at play here, that this pull she feels is supernatural, beyond human conception.

  She’s weighing the pros and cons as she orders a drink. She wants to put her mind in the right state to make a ‘mistake.’ But it wouldn’t be a mistake. Doesn’t she realize it’s her only choice? That she’s mine already, even though she doesn’t know it? She was mine before she even laid eyes on me. It’s her fate. Humans don’t understand fate. They see causes and effects, they believe in choices and different possibilities. How could she realize that there’s no one else she could possibly end up with?

  And still, I know if she heard this, she’d run away screaming. Thinking I’m crazy. And I am crazy… for her. It’s as if I can see her walking down this dark path, the dark path of her life. And there I am at the end of it, waiting for her. Waiting to give her everything she ever wanted, but never could admit to herself she needed. She’s strong, but sometimes she’s too stubborn and independent, she doesn’t allow herself to trust her feelings. I need her to trust her feelings, because then she can trust me.

  But right now, I’m sensing something darker in my presence. Is it coming from Amber? No, definitely not. It’s inhuman. Something is coming after me. There’s two of them. No, three. No, FOUR. They’re circling the blocks in this end of the city, homing in on me. They’re close, too close.

  ~ Amber ~

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Clay, taking a quick sip to finish off the last of his drink.

  “No, we just got here, let’s hang around for a bit longer.”

  “We have to go now, finish your drink and let’s go.”

  “I don’t know why you’re being so pushy right now. We just got here, come on, I never go out, just let me enjoy this.”

  “You don’t understand, we have to go.”

  “What don’t I understand? Explain it to me.”

  “I—” Clay looked like he wanted to say something to me. “Can’t.”

  “You can’t explain it to me?”

  “No.”

  “Then why should I leave with
you?”

  “Because you have to.”

  A chill shot through me. There was something in his eyes, blue, but wild like fire. Like lightning, a bolt of understanding flicked through me. Suddenly, I knew I had to leave. I didn’t know why, but I knew it wasn’t a choice. I put my trust in Clay, not knowing where it would take me. I finished my drink and picked my purse up off the bar counter.

  “OK, let’s go.”

  Clay took my hand and led me outside. His hand was warm, but rough. More what you’d expect from a rancher than a businessman. But then again I felt that maybe there was something about Clay I didn’t quite know about. I knew that in some sense I wasn’t quite getting the full story.

  ~ Clay ~

  I’m touching her for the first time. Her skin is soft, supple. I can’t explain the charge of electricity that’s coursing through me, just from the touch of her hand! But I’ve got to keep my head straight.

  I’m in danger. And she’s in danger because she’s with me. They’ll kill me. They’ll kill me and take her as a prize, as the spoils of war. They’d be pleased to take her as a mate, but she isn’t destined for them, she isn’t destined for anyone other than me.

  They’re so close. I feel like I should be able to see them as Amber and I dart down this dark alley. We’re blocks from my car and she’s in heels. I don’t think we’ll make it. I can feel my muscles tensing, preparing for a fight.

  I don’t want to fight in front of her. I can’t have her see that side of me. Could she handle it? Or would she faint in fear? I can feel dread building up inside me. Not at the prospect of the battle to come, but at the look on her face when she sees what I really am. The pure, abject terror at the realization that I’m not who she thought I was, that I’m not human like her.

  But does that mean we’re not made for each other? And now as these thoughts race through my head, I see the parking garage where I left my car. It would seem that we were home free, but I can feel the presence of those other wolves. They’re stalking me. Is this a trap?