Romance: Claimed By The Ape: BBW Shapeshifter Romance Standalone (Spicy Shifters Book 4)

by Ashley Hunter

  “Jack,” she managed, turning her head to find his mouth, “Please…”

  “Say it,” he growled against her lips, seizing her in a kiss that burned, “Say it, and I am your slave.”

  “Jack… I….”

  “Jack!”

  The pounding at the door nearly made both of them topple over. They broke apart hastily, clumsily, Erin falling against the dressing table. Jack quickly cleared his throat, and called, “Just… changing. What is it?”

  “Your parents are outside, they said everybody’s waiting over at the restaurant,” came the voice of the assistant director.

  “Oh, yeah, of course. Tell them I’ll… I’ll be outside shortly.”

  “And nobody can find Erin, should we text her!”

  Jack glanced at his assistant from the corner of his eye as she awkwardly tried to pull up her own zipper. With utmost composure, Jack stood her up, turned her, and redid the zipper himself-though she noticed that his fingers trembled as they touched her. “No,” he called through the door, “She said she’d go meet my folks in just a bit, so she’s probably looking for them.”

  “All right,” the assistant said through the door, “Don’t take all night! See ya at the party!” They heard his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

  They stood for a moment, neither looking at the either. Red-faced, her pulse still racing, Erin swiftly gathered her things where she had dropped them on the floor before Jack embraced her. He said nothing, all of his concentration focused on one of the buttons of his shirt that he’d accidentally torn off in his fervor.

  “So… I’ll just go, um, meet up with your folks,” Erin tried to repin her hair, but it was hopeless. Her curls were a mass of tangled thorn bushes, made even more unruly at Jack’s hands.

  He nodded, not quite looking at her. “Good. Thanks. I’ll just-change, and meet you.”

  “Front of the theater?” She asked, trying to capture back some air of briskness, but her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Perfect.”

  “Good.”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll just-yeah, leave you, ya know, to change,” she turned on her heel and managed to open the door and get through it without injuring herself or falling-both a definite possibility in her current state, she figured.

  She shut the door before realizing she hadn’t said goodbye, and without thinking, opened the door again, stuck her head inside, and yelped “See ya!” In a voice that was far too high and loud.

  She slammed the door shut, embarrassment and panic and bitter disappointment racing through her. With several deep breaths to steady herself, she steeled her resolve, and steadily made her way to the front of the theater.

  ~5~

  The play was, of course, a massive success. Ecstatic cast members read out positive reviews on social media at the party, filling the entire restaurant with cheers.

  There was a brazen announcement, after several rounds of drinks, that the play’s run would be extended an extra week. The assistant director even promised to hold a party in a few weeks’ time for all the cast and crew members to properly celebrate their good fortune.

  To no one’s great surprise, Jack’s parents were lively and compassionate, equal shades proud and protective of their son. Erin saw them several times through the evening, hidden in a corner of the restaurant, putting their heads’ together with his, their expressions shifting from joy to concern; it was clear where he’d gotten his talent for emotional metamorphosis.

  They seemed to like her immensely, and thanked her on several occasions for taking such good care of Jack, who’d apparently had something of a wayward youth.

  Erin smiled and laughed so convincingly she wondered if maybe she’d ended up in the wrong profession. Despite sitting only a few seats away from each other, and the small nature of the party, she and Jack didn’t speak to each other all night.

  Nor did they speak all weekend, as Jack abruptly moved up his camping weekend and disappeared into the woods while his understudy tried his hand at impressing the crowds.

  Erin promised herself all weekend that she’d say something-anything-about what happened in that dressing room, but Monday morning, her courage deserted her. They exchanged empty pleasantries, she gave him his schedule, he gave her his errands, and neither said a word about opening night.

  Now that the play had started in earnest, Erin saw a lot less of Jack; he performed two shows a day, and often slept in, his bedroom door closed as Erin brought in his dry cleaning and morning banana smoothie. She wondered sometimes if he had anyone else in there with him, making her throat close so quickly she would struggle to breath.

  She told herself fiercely that she hoped he did have someone in there; it’d serve her right. She’d known his reputation, and yet she’d practically flung herself at him.

  This just proved he was like every other man with power; wanting what they can’t have, and then bored when they have it. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson about love months ago, but hopefully this had finally gotten all of her romantic notions out of her silly head.

  “So how are you getting to the party?” Jack suddenly asked her three weeks after what she’d dubbed “The Opening Night Debacle.” She glanced up in surprise from her correspondence; he’d been dictating an email to his mother in his dressing room as he prepared for the evening performance.

  He still looked dashing in his blue jacket, though Erin noticed he’d been applying more stage make-up lately; probably to cover how pale he’d become in the last few weeks.

  “You mean the party tomorrow night up at the cabin?”

  “Yeah,” Jack checked his eyeliner in the vanity mirror, being careful to avoid catching her gaze.

  “I didn’t figure I was invited.”

  “Everybody’s invited.”

  “Oh. Well, clearly I hadn’t planned on going.”

  “Got plans?”

  Erin stared down at the keyboard. He’d said it so casually, as if he couldn’t have cared less what she was up to… or who she was seeing. “Amanda’s brother Tom is in town for a few weeks visiting, but… No, I guess no concrete plans.”

  “Then why don’t you go?”

  “It’s a two hour drive.”

  “Sure, but no performances on Monday; plenty of time to relax,” he paused, and added, “You could ride with me. ”

  She gave an exaggerated eye roll, “More accurately, you mean you need a ride.”

  “Figure you’ve got a car and all. If you don’t mind, I also thought I’d drive-I know the way better,” he grinned over his shoulder at her. Even after all that had passed between them, that grin still made her body warm with joy, like she’d just swallowed a mouthful of perfect-temperature soup after a day out sledding in the snow.

  “Would… anyone be coming with us?”

  “Nope. Just you and me,” he replied lightly.

  The idea filled her with both dread and exhilaration. Two hours alone together in the car; what if they talked about what had happened? Or worse, what if they fought about what had happened? Or what if… he apologized for everything that had happened, fixed her with that crystal gaze, and swore he’d make it up to her?

  “I guess I can give you a ride,” she shrugged.

  * * *

  Erin regretted the decision almost immediately. The evening performance didn’t let out until well after 10pm. She’d packed their bags and loaded the car in preparation, but even at a hurried pace, Jack didn’t get out of wardrobe and makeup until nearly 10:30, still sporting a little fake blood along his scalp when he climbed into the driver’s seat.

  The news had predicted a late spring snowfall, just an inch or two, which had predictably turned into a snowstorm that dumped whirling clouds of slushy flakes as Jack carefully turned onto a county highway heading north.

  They left the radio on, the road requiring most of Jack’s attention, and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. There were few other cars driving at this time of night, in this w
eather; once they were outside city limits, as suburb slowly gave way to farmland and then at last to dense forest, it felt almost as if they were the only two people on the whole Earth.

  Erin finally cleared her throat, unable to endure any more awkward silence. “So-is the place where you camp around here?”

  Jack chuckled, as if enjoying a private joke with himself, “Kind of. It’s… nearby.”

  “Dawn mentioned when she was interviewing me for this position that you require a monthly weekend for camping in all of your contracts, no negotiation. I admit, I wouldn’t have guessed you were such an avid camper.”

  He flashed her a grin. “I like to surprise people sometimes.”

  “Have you always been into camping?”

  “My dad used to take me when I was a kid, and I thought it was pretty lame. Once I hit puberty, I… started to see the merit of it. I know I come back looking like hell, but honestly, those weekends help me stay sane. It’s one of the reasons my parents worry about me so much-they’d never live near a city, let alone someplace like NYC, where you couldn’t be anywhere nears woods like this,” he glanced thoughtfully out into the dark, watching the dark shapes of trunks and bare branches go by.

  “My parents wanted me to be a dentist. They think I’m wasting my potential fetching coffee for rich snobs. Uh, no offense,” she added quickly.

  “None taken. Is being a personal assistant what you want to do with your life?”

  “Not forever, no. I’d like to run my own staffing business someday,” she smiled cheekily, “Maybe I’ll specialize in finding personal assistants for difficult celebrities.”

  “You do seem particularly talented at it,” Jack chuckled, “Though I hope you avoid the more handsome ones - I do sometimes have a jealous streak.”

  “Why would-” Erin started to say, when her words were cut off by a violent roar from the engine. The steering wheel shook in Jack’s hands; he only just managed to get the car over to the side of the road before the engine died completely, leaving an eerie silence behind.

  “Don’t worry, I have triple A, “Erin interjected quickly, pulling out her phone. To her horror, she saw that the bars were non-existent; no coverage.

  Jack examined his phone as well. “Hmm. Seems like the storm is blocking out any cell phone signals. They’re pretty weak out here, anyway.”

  Erin leaned over to check the gas gauge; in her hurry to get out of town, she hadn’t filled the tank, figuring half was good enough to get to the cabin. “And we don’t have enough to last the night,” she fell back into the passenger seat with a groan of dismay,” Oh man, what are we going to do?”

  “Seek shelter until the morning, when the storm is over, and call for help then,” Jack replied calmly.

  Erin shot him a frustrated glare. “Oh, well, shelter, I’m sure there are tons of motels within easy walking distance of Highway Middle of Nowhere. Have you seen outside?”

  Jack only seemed to half-hear her, already digging through their packed bags. He pulled out several sweatshirts, and tossed a few at her. “Here, put these on. You forget, I camp right around this area. I know a place nearby.”

  “You do?” Erin asked in amazement, staring out into the blinding, snowy darkness, “How can you even tell where we are?”

  “Smells familiar,” he replied, then quickly scowled, “Just, trust me, okay?”

  Erin shrugged on several layers, thankful she’d thought to bring along her thick winter coat; Jack, she noticed, wore only a single sweatshirt, and his light spring jacket.

  She opened her mouth to insist he dress warmer, especially if they were going to be walking a distance, but he was already closing the driver’s door and coming around to her side, strolling casually through the slushy snow as flakes caught in his dark hair. He opened her door with a flourish and extended his hand, “Mi’lady.”

  She laughed despite herself, and climbed out into the biting wind, trying to tuck her fingers into the sleeve of her jacket. Jack closed the door, and locked the car securely. Then, to her surprise, he swept her up into his arms, like some old school romance hero carrying his lady into the sunset.

  “What in the world are you doing?” She demanded as he set off, not down the road, but into the very thick of the woods. Although she could barely see two feet in front of her face, between the darkness and the wind, he seemed to navigate the uneven ground easily, stepping over stumps and downed branches with ease.

  “Sorry,” Jack shouted apologetically over the wind, “It’s probably just easier if I carry you.”

  “You can’t carry me the entire way,” she insisted, though she noticed that they had already covered a surprising amount of ground. She realized that he was in fact jogging, though his hold on her was so secure and his footing so steady he barely tousled her.

  Not only that, he didn’t seem to be at all out of breath. Here he was jogging through the woods, carrying another person’s weight (and Erin considered herself hardly a waif) and yet didn’t seem fatigued in any way. All this from a guy who never works out, she marveled.

  The trees grew denser and taller the further they moved from the highway, enough that after some time the wind didn’t bother her at all. Occasionally, Jack would pause, glancing around, as if affirming his path.

  Erin studied him, puzzled; it couldn’t be by the stars, as those were blocked by clouds. It was too dark to make out small landmarks. What had he said-it smelled familiar? Was he navigating by scent?

  After what seemed like an eternity, Jack finally slowed down, and gently placed Erin back on her feet. Her eyes had adjusted a little more to the darkness, and she saw that they were beside what seemed to be an opening, scarcely taller than Jack and no wider, in a steep stone cliff.

  Jack dug in his jacket for a moment, and pulled out a box of matches; he struck one, leaving them both blinded for a moment by the sudden light.

  Erin saw that just inside the opening was an old-fashioned oil torch; Jack bent and set the match to it, instantly coaxing a bright flame into being. He nodded towards the opening, and went in first, the torch illuminating his path. Intrigued, and unsure what else to do, Erin followed.

  The opening lead to a narrow pathway, low enough that Jack had to duck his head as they walked. After a few feet, however, the pathway suddenly opened up into a wide cavern, the light from the torch casting dancing shadows along a domed ceiling.

  Jack knelt at the center of the cavern, tossing the torch onto a pile of wood; the flame gradually spread until it became a roaring campfire. Erin glanced around in amazement; in addition to the fire pit, she saw a single camp bed, and stacks and stacks of books.

  “Welcome to my campsite,” Jack announced, a little sheepishly.

  “This is where you camp?” Erin walked slowly around the cavern, running her hand along the dry stone walls, “How did you find this place?”

  Jack shrugged, “Scoped it out before I moved here for the play. Wanted to make sure there was some place I could… get away. Are you hungry?”

  Erin tried to shake her head, but the grumbling of her stomach was loud enough to echo a little in the confined space. “I’m fine, really, I had a light supper. And I didn’t bring any food.”

  “Sit down and I’ll go find us something to snack on-just to get through the night.”

  “No way!” She stepped in front of the pathway, arms crossed, “You’re not going back out there! You’ll freeze!”

  “I’ll be fine. Experienced camper, remember?” Jack tried to reassure her with an easy smile.

  “No, Jack, I’m serious, you can’t go back out in this storm. I-” she hesitated, terrified by the words that had sprung so readily to her mind, trying to wipe away some of their pathetic quality “would worry about you too much, okay?”

  Jack’s face softened, “I get that. I won’t go far, okay? Five minutes.”

  Erin puffed out a defiant sigh. “Fine. Five minutes. You don’t come back by then, and I’m coming looking for you.”

 
“Yes ma’am,” he winked, and gently moving her aside, jogged out the pathway.

  * * *

  He was, thankfully, back within five minutes. Erin had stripped off her jacket and most of her sweatshirts, but had been pulling them back on in anticipation of following him when he strolled back into the cavern, as casually as if he was strolling back into rehearsal.

  In his hands, he carried fistfuls of parsnips and dandelions. He shrugged out of his jacket, laying it on the camp bed, and spread out his bounty, looking pleased with himself. “Spring can be a tough time to forage, but I’m a big fan of dandelion leaves. Hope you like salad.”

  “Jack, this is… incredible. You found all of this, out in that storm?”

  Jack shrugged, “Years of practice. Glad it finally came in handy.”

  Erin tore a leaf from a dandelion stem and popped it in her mouth, chewing gingerly. It wasn’t half bad. “No wonder you come back looking like hell.”

  He laughed and sank down onto the camp bed, stripping off his remaining sweater to reveal his customary t-shirt underneath.

  “Aren’t you cold?” She asked in amazement as she sat down beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest for warmth.

  “Nah, I run a little hot. The fire’s only here for when it gets really chilly-most times I don’t even light it. Here.” He draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side. He hadn’t been kidding. In the coldness of the cave, she could practically feel the heat radiating off him like a current from a furnace. They sat in silence for a moment, both picking at the pile of edible plants, before Erin spluttered, “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

  “Ruined everything?” Jack repeated, looking down at her in surprise, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… like tonight. If my car hadn’t died…”

  “Point of order, I bought you that car, and I was the one driving,” Jack reassured her, his tone teasing, “Are you suggesting that you’re somehow bad luck?”