Alpha Howl (A BBW Shifter Werewolf MC Romance) (Sons of Thunder MC: Book 2)

by Deva Long

  “Hi Karl.” My yoga buzz evaporated.

  “Hiya Grace.”

  “What’s up?” God I sound like a teenager. “Something with the police?”

  “No, nothing like that. I wanted to make sure you made it home safely last night.” He paused. “I called you earlier.”

  I glowered at my phone. Damn thing. Oh yeah, I always turned the ringer off at Yoga. A missed message icon blinked. I had been too relaxed to notice.

  “Sorry, I was at my Yoga class.”

  “Nice. I’m very flexible.”

  I remembered.

  “I have a great teacher. She makes me feel high.” Shoot, I should just yank my tongue out. “On life.”

  “Life’s the best thing to be high on.”

  Does he get high on other things?

  Karl took a deep breath.

  “Grace, I’d like to talk to you.”

  Oh my god, he wants to see me again. In person.

  “We’re talking.” I played dumb.

  “I need to see you.”

  My body, still half aroused from Sari’s ministrations, wanted him here right now. But, my mind needed some questions answered.

  “I liked last night, Karl, but you turned…strange… at the end. You changed.” I breathed faster, seeing his fangs and his claws again in my mind.

  “Yes. I want to explain...”

  “My friend. She said you might be—.”

  “Grace. Can we discuss this face-to-face?” His voice changed to deep and sensual. A ripple of desire ran over my skin.

  “What if you change again?”

  “I let you go. Did I chase you?” I swore I could hear him purring.

  “You didn’t chase me down and kill me. I’m not super comforted by that.”

  I wanted to see him again, but in a public place. A place where if he turned into a white-fanged monster, people would notice and call the cops.

  Or animal control.

  The beach at Siesta Point Park was a perfect place to meet Karl. A few minutes walk from my place, and the park is always crowded with young people going to America’s most beautiful beach.

  “Do you know the Siesta Point beach access? Just down the main road from your hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you there in half an hour.”

  He said nothing

  “Sir,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Sir,” I gasped.

  I hung up. He would show up or he wouldn’t. His call.

  I cupped the phone in my hand, holding it between my breasts for a minute while I recovered my breath. I conjured up Sari and listened to her say, “Breathe.” Dodging into the bathroom I took stock of the girl in the mirror. Sweaty, barefaced, and hair in a sloppy updo. I needed to wash, slap my makeup on, and get the majority of the dishes out of the sink.

  “You are not inviting him over!” My angel sounded a lot like my mother sometimes.

  “I might.” I said out loud. She disappeared in a huff. I heard clapping. In my head. My devil. Already dressed in red leather. She held her hands above her head and silently mouthed, “Somebody spank me.”

  I dropped the phone, jumped from the couch, peeling off my yoga pants and shirt like Superman, and dove into the shower. The beach would still be cool this early, so I wore my blue velour tracksuit. I liked the way the stretchy cloth hugged my butt.

  six

  “So, you are a werewolf?” I stared into his eyes from behind my hair.

  We walked side by side on the hard sand pathway to the beach. In front of us a couple pushed a loaded beach cart, dropping towels and toys, and yelling at their children to pick them up.

  “Please, wolves are dogs. I am no cur.” He gave a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. “Anyway, the correct word is weir.” He rubbed his chin.

  “Weird?”

  The pathway had been packed hard by thousands of feet. Sleepy Key is covered by fine white sand. Sand that feels like powdered sugar and made of seashells ground smooth by eons. It makes great sandcastles. The village hosts a sand sculpture contest here every year. People come from all over the world to carve huge dragons, mermaids, and multi-story castles with gingerbread turrets.

  “Same root. From the old English wyrd.”

  Sometimes there are controversies about the mermaids being topless.

  “What English word?”

  “Not word. Wyrd. Double-You Why Ar Dee. It means ‘that which turns’.”

  “You turn from human into…something. Something like a wolf.”

  His canines loomed larger than normal when he smiled.

  We walked by some volleyballers with perfect bodies and found a spot a little apart from the rest, closer to the dunes than the ocean.

  “You looked like a cat with a mouse when you…when you…”

  We sat in the sand, the dune grasses waved behind his head.

  “Happens when I orgasm, Grace.” He sighed and ran his nails over my stomach. They left little white lines on my skin.

  “I don’t go mad when I change. You don’t need to fear that part of me.”

  “Why do you turn into a werewolf?” He looked annoyed. “Sorry, a wyrd-wolf?

  “My people have a long tale.” His eyes crinkled around the edges.

  Great. A shifter who puns.

  I poked him. “Stick to the point.”

  “It’s not like the stories you see on the tube. My people wrote many fanciful words to throw normal humans off our scent.”

  Karl’s shirt gaped open, showing a generous amount of chest, and an angry scar I hadn’t seen last night. I traced the raised flesh with my finger.

  “Can you be killed?”

  His lashes closed and he stared down his nose at me.

  What long eyelashes you have, Mr. Wolf.

  “I will tell you more someday. Maybe. If things stay…nice. Between us.”

  “Sorry. I played Dungeons and Dragons when I was a kid.” His face turned surprised. “A fantasy game. Swords and sorcery. Got in trouble for drawing my character at school.” He closed his eyes, bored.

  “I know the game, Grace.”

  “Another diversion from the truth?”

  “Something like that.”

  I decided to change the subject. He was strange, but I trusted him at the same time. I’m not sure why, but he wasn’t going to go all fang face and rip my head off. He hadn’t saved me and wooed me just to eat me.

  Probably.

  Either way, I wanted to learn more about him.

  “A room like yours must cost a fortune.” I left the question unspoken. In my circles we all found it insanely interesting how other people managed to survive and some even thrive in an increasingly insecure world.

  He gave me a knowing look.

  “A long time ago I helped a man’s family gain control of a desert kingdom. It turned out to be sitting atop a copious deposit of oil. I haven’t thought about money since then.”

  OK, now for the big question. When you are planning on lying naked next to a powerful predator who says he’s not going to eat you, it’s the question that matters.

  “Why do you want me?”

  “You are a match for me.” He would say no more. “We have…chemistry.”

  “Really? The old chemistry line?” I punched the sand hill he had been idly making, knocking his mound apart like my hand was a miniature bomb.

  “I can tell you a good deal more. But not here. Not in public.”

  “We’re on a beach, no one’s listening to us.”

  My hand still lay in the ruins of his sand-pile. He ran his finger up my arm, then cupped my cheek.

  “I like you Grace. I know you like me.” He drew my face towards his and my anger faded. But, I still had one more question.

  “Wait.” I put my finger up. He still pulled me toward him, his brows lowering. “Stop,” I ordered. He froze like a deer in the headlights, frozen.

  Well, his safeword works.

  “Why are you
so controlling?” I pushed my cheek into his open hand, nuzzling cat-like against his calloused palm. “Why do you like to…pinch me and bind me?” The last bit came out in a rush, my cheeks turning red. I’m not the type to ask questions about another person’s kinky stuff.

  “Part of my curse.” He leaned back into the sand. “I can keep the change under control by playing with you. By teasing you.” He put his hand on my leg and squeezed. “Your pain gives me strength.”

  His fingers bit into my inner thigh. I moaned.

  Karl smiled, showing sharp canines. “And you seem to like it.”

  “I do,” if my face was a fruit, it would be a Red Delicious Apple, crimson and shiny.

  I noticed clovers under the beach grass, and picked one. Held sideways the clover leaf looked kind of like a woman’s posterior. I tapped my finger on the leaf like I was spanking that ass.

  He growled then and leapt atop me, his lips finding mine.

  A child’s giggled.

  I peeked from behind Karl’s straw colored mane to meet a woman’s disapproving stare.

  This is moving too fast. I push him away.

  “We should wait.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “Oh, I didn’t drive. I live just down the street.”

  I froze. TMI! I didn’t mean to let him know I lived near here. Not yet.

  “May I walk you home”?

  I swallowed, blinking my eyes. When I closed them I saw a scene in my mind: a lamb inviting a wolf to her bed.

  Me and my freaking imagination.

  I could ignore his imploring question, or I could open myself, and heed his seductive request.

  “Sure, that would be nice.” I’d surrendered. When I gave him my number, I could have avoided his call. Sent him straight to voicemail.

  But, I was letting him walk me home. Now I’d have to move to hide from him.

  seven

  I’m going to willingly sleep with a wolf freak!

  No. A freak who turns into a wolf.

  Worse.

  The condo Leslie and I rent is in an antique building, built during the nineteen sixties. Things fall apart. We get leaks from the upstairs plumbing and the windows. The hurricane shutters are stuck half closed in my room.

  Luckily, I like the shade.

  “Our elevator’s busted. We’ll have to take the stairs,” my voiced cracked. I peeked at his thighs. He’s built like Achilles. The broken elevator wouldn’t slow him down.

  “I think I can handle some steps.”

  eight

  I stood there clutching the doorknob, pressing my thighs together. I touched my chest. My heart thumped under my bones. Why does he affect me like this?

  He wants me. Like I want him.

  Karl was breathing hard, and not from the three flights of stairs. He said something about there being more steps than he’d expected. His voice washed over me. A sound like fine tequila. The kind you sip from shot glasses.

  Karl smiled and lifted his eyebrows. I stared at him, my mouth open. I couldn’t think of an intelligent thing to say.

  “Come on in.” My breath quickened when he crossed my threshold.

  “Thanks.” He contemplated my condo, taking in my vintage terrazzo and Formica counters. My refrigerator with the chrome and the fins, like a car from a Springsteen song.

  Walking in, fresh cinnamon and toasted sugar filled my nose. Leslie made the best Snickerdoodles, she must have just finished a batch. I hope she’s not here.

  I called out, “I’m home.”

  No answer. The door to her room stood open.

  Karl regarded me with questioning eyes. “I have a roommate. Leslie. She’s not here.”

  Grabbing two cookies from the plate I held one out.

  “You have to try these, Leslie’s an artist.”

  Karl smiled and took the cookie, consuming the morsel in one bite. Somehow he made the act graceful.

  “Please,” I mumbled around a mouthful of sugary goodness, and gestured at the couch. I sat on my overstuffed lazy-boy’s arm. I wasn’t ready to co-habit the same couch with him.

  “Grace.” I love when says my name. “I need to warn you.”

  nine

  He took my hand. A rush ran from my fingertips to my temple. Roaring in my head a sound like a freight train. A hundred thousand tons of steel, heading where? For the bottom of the canyon, or the Promised Land?

  “I’m dangerous. You should avoid me.” You came to my house to tell me to stay away from you? There’s a comedy skit. It’s called Really?

  My face burned with a searing flush of rejection.

  “You said I shouldn’t fear you at the beach. Now that you’ve planted your sandy butt on my couch, you say you’re dangerous?”

  I leaned my head back.

  Karl held out his hands. “I’m complicated.”

  In my pocket, I kept my finger close to my phone’s number six key. It’s programmed to dial 911 with one push.

  “Shit, Karl, murder me and take all my meat. I have some prime rib in the freezer. That’s what you wolves really want us for, right? Easy meat?”

  His brows dove for the bridge of his nose and his top lip lifted like he might growl.

  I laughed.

  He laughed then too, and I knew I was safe. Serial killers never have a good sense of humor.

  ten

  “Look. You saved me. I guess you’re not going to kill me, or you would have left me out there, with those men.”

  His eyes clouded and his brow furrowed.

  “You don’t understand, Grace—”

  “Karl,” I cut in, “I’m a big girl. I can handle you.”

  “I’m different, Grace. I need things most people think are strange.”

  “I know you’re strange. You like kinky sex and you turn into a were…a weir…a wolf-thing.” I stopped, out of breath. “I hope there isn’t something else I don’t know about you?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t care. I never felt anything as good as last night.” My voice wavered and my hands trembled. “I like you.”

  “I like you too.” My heart thumped, skipping. He said he liked me!

  “Still, you would be safer if you stayed away from me.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, tousling the golden strands.

  “My life is…trouble. Dangerous people are after me, and not all of them are actual people.”

  He grimaced, showing deep lines I’d never noticed before around his eyes and his lips.

  “I have enemies who live to warm their paws at my funeral pyre, and if you’re with me, you’ll have them too.”

  Karl could have said a million things when I told him I liked him. The nice guys I usually dated would have made some silly joke. Telling me to stay away because he cared about me was not a line any guy tried on me before. I had to know more. I had to keep him around until I learned his secrets. All his secrets. Telling me about his powerful enemies just made me want to be with him more.

  “I’m not scared, Karl. I can hold my own in a fight.”

  Not really. Or maybe I can, but I’ve never had to. So, I have no idea. I definitely identify with girls who can, though.

  If pressed, I would go all Viper of Dorn on whoever tried to hurt Karl.

  eleven

  “I’m sorry I left so abruptly last night.”

  “You were smart to leave. Like I said, I’m bad news. A rough beast.”

  Ok, that’s the third time.

  “Slouching toward Bethlehem?”

  He gave me a surprised look. “You know poetry?”

  “Literature and technology are my two passions.”

  He smiled. “Just two?”

  “I’ve enough trouble satisfying those two.”

  “So you are a woman of few passions, indulged deeply.”

  “Sounds like a quote. I don’t know who by?”

  “Quoted from the life works of Karl Norman. I haven’t written them yet, so I�
��ll forgive you for not recognizing the line.”

  “You’re funny.” I leaned my head back and half shut my eyes, giving him the hairy eyeball. “So, just how bad news are you? Will you turn me into a were…thingy?”

  “Nothing like that, no. I’m not going to change you into something else.”

  Maybe not, but you have changed me into someone else. The Grace from a few days ago would never imagine herself sitting here with a man who shifts into a beast when he gets excited.

  “I need you to sign an agreement before I tell you more.”

  Time for the Really? show again.

  Karl spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. I got the sense that he was not made helpless by much.

  “Lawyers. Honestly, I think they invent these rules just to make themselves rich.” He pulled a folded piece paper from his jacket pocket.

  My god he brought a legal agreement thing with him!

  “Do you pull those out for all the girls?”

  “I’m sorry, Grace. I’ve been sued before.”

  Given his dominant attitude and his shocking secret, I’m surprised he hasn’t been miles more than sued. He probably left broken hearts lying around every day like other men leave tips.

  “Just once?”

  He frowned. “The experience wasn’t any fun for anyone. Except the lawyers. They enjoyed it, on both sides. When the process concluded, I fired my lawyer, after paying for his beach house. Then, I found a new one, and offered him one hundred thousand dollars a year.” Karl unfolded the paper.

  “But I deduct five hundred dollars from his payment for every hour I have to talk to him.”

  He brandished a pen. Covered with ebony, with silver inlays. The design depicted the moon, with shining rays streaming out, spiraling around the pen.

  “You charge him?”

  “Yes. From his retainer. I noticed that lawyers love to talk to me about all sorts of things not directly related to my case, for many hours, and charge me by the minute. This arrangement makes my current lawyer very efficient.”

  The ant-march of semi-colon delimited sentence fragments gave me a headache. “I hate what lawyers do to words. Can you explain to me what this is for?”