Her First Time With A Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) (2 page)

“Waste of my time, and his,” the woman said. However. with a huff, she disappeared out behind the bar.

Paris stood where she was, resisting the temptation to turn around and get a good look around the patrons in the bar. The hairs on the back of her neck slowly rose, and a shiver passed through her body. Someone was approaching her, and she felt more than a little afraid. She might be safe here, but she had to walk home and the thought of being followed struck her. Even if she made it home she would be all alone, what if someone tried to break in. Damn her mom for running off like that.

“He said to go on through.” The woman behind the bar had returned, she cast a look out through the backdoor, and Paris was grateful to go. Not daring to look if anyone really had been behind her, she did not want to know.

She made her way around the end of the bar and slipped through the doorway into a dimly lit hallway. Her eyes took a moment to adjust, but it was better out here, quieter.

“Hello,” she called when she realised she had no idea where she was supposed to go.

“Down here,” a voice growled.

Paris took a step forward, then another, the hallway bent around, and there were steps leading down into a cellar.

Really. Could this evening get any worse, or any creepier? Did she want to go down those stairs? Nobody knew where she was, except for the woman in the bar, and she got the feeling there would be no help forthcoming there if she needed it.

“Hello,” she called again, leaning down towards the opening. “Are you coming up?”

“Nope. I’m busy, so if you want to see me you'll have to come down.”

Great. She put a tentative foot on the top stair and her hand on the rail. Pausing briefly, she reminded herself how much she needed this job, and took the steps slowly, one at a time. Her heart thumped in her chest as she went down into a cool room lit with a bare bulb. It felt more like a dungeon than a cellar, and she wondered what beast might live down here, and then she saw him.

The bare room was filled with crates and barrels, and there in amongst them all was a huge mountain of a man, picking things up and moving them around as though they were made of cardboard. However, Paris could tell by the way the barrels thumped onto the stone floor that they were full, and very heavy.

She swallowed down her panic, this man could snap her in two without breaking into a sweat, or he could capture her and tie her up down here where no one would know, and make her submit to his every whim.

Bad thoughts to be having. Her body caught onto to her mind's train of thought, and her physical reaction was obvious. So when he looked up at her she blushed, her cheeks rosy pink, and her voluptuous chest heaved, a sight that did not pass by unnoticed.

The man stopped what he was doing and simply stared at her, making Paris feel as though she needed to run away and hide. His eyes devoured her, taking in every inch of her body. She fought to stay in control; she would not give into her desire, which matched that which evidently played across his face.

This was just how her mother behaved, giving herself to any man that showed an interest. Paris would not become that kind of women, no matter how easy it would be to feel his hands on her body, stroking her skin. Stop it! She told herself.

The man recovered himself too. Going back to lifting his barrels, ignoring her standing there on the stairs. Now she felt awkward, had she imagined the way he looked at her, of course. She had always been able to see the attraction of her mom. Being slim and easy going, she was a magnet to men, even if they were always wrong for her. Paris on the other hand was the opposite, curvy and often out of her depth with the opposite sex. Exactly like this moment.

“Hi,” she said finding her voice, although it was a little squeaky. He did not reply, so she went down the remaining steps and over to where he was in the process of gripping a barrel and lifting it. “Hi, I’m...”

“Shar’s daughter.” He put the barrel down and looked at her with open hostility. “I get it, your mom's letting me down, I take it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, she had somewhere she had to be,” Paris said, cursing herself for not thinking up a plausible story before she came here.

“I see. Well thanks for letting me know.” He said the words but he sounded anything but grateful.

Paris knew she had been dismissed, that she should get out of there and find some other way of making ends meet, but she could not let this opportunity go. It was not as if there were too many jobs going like this, which would fit around her schoolwork.

“I’d really like the chance to pick up my mom's hours.” Paris tried to sound confident and grown up, when inside she felt like a little kid against this well toned man.

He put the barrel down, and came around to stand in front of her, she could see the sweat glistening on his body and she wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel the heat of him against her skin. She licked her lips, wanting to press them against his full mouth, and taste this incredible man.

Instead, she dragged her eyes from his flesh and looked at him squarely in the face. Not that this made things better, he was incredibly handsome in a rugged way. Dark eyes that were soft, and full of a longing she could only dream of unleashing.

“I can’t run my business employing people who let me down. I took a chance on your mom, but I should have trusted my instincts and said no. You should go home,” he said, and turned to walk away, up the stairs and out of her life.

“Please,” she said, grabbing his arm, a reaction she knew she would probably regret.

He jumped, as though she had shocked him. Turning back to her he looked at her hand on his arm and then at her face. “I have made my decision.” His tone firm.

“I need this job.”

“That’s what your mom said.”

“I’m not my mom. Honestly, give me a trial, teach me what I need to do and I will be your best employee.”

“Until a man comes along and sweeps you off your feet.”

“No. I’m not my mom.”

He stood looking at her, she felt as though he was boring into her brain, trying to read her thoughts. “No?”

“No,” she whispered, unable to bear his scrutiny. “No men, no boyfriends. I’ve seen what it did to my mom, and that way of life does not interest me?”

“Has it ever interested you?”

She knew what he was asking, although his words were indirect. Paris thought about her answer, should she lie? If he knew she was a virgin he might think she was too innocent to deal with the men in the bar. However, to tell him otherwise would be a lie, and when she returned his gaze she knew he already had his answer.

“Never.”

He grunted in satisfaction. “Two weeks trial. Starting now.”

When he turned and walked up the stairs, she mutely followed, wondering why she felt as though she had done a deal with the devil.

***

Wes was in shock, or as close to shock as he could be, when you had seen the things he had, it took a lot. This, however, was different. She was different.

Damn. He had always thought the woman for him would be some tough chick. One who knew how to look after herself, and service he needs in the bedroom. Not a virgin college student. How the hell did that happen?

Stomping up the stairs he could feel her following, feel how scared she was of him. What he didn’t know was what exactly he was supposed to do. The thought of her being exposed to all the shifters in his bar when she had no clue what was going on made him cringe. They had better behave themselves around her, or there would be trouble.

He caught his train of thoughts. So he had decided to let her have a go at bar work. I suppose her mother wasn’t too bad, a little too friendly with the customers, but apart from that OK.

He turned and looked at her, god he didn’t even know her name. And what if she was like her mother? Was the whole virgin thing a ploy, perhaps they thought that was the sort of woman he went for. Yeah, right.

“Cindy,” he called her over, knowing she would be pissed with him for making her deal with the new girl. OK, so what was her name?

“Yes, Wes.” Just as he thought, she gave him a filthy look. She knew what he was going to ask, and she knew as well as he did this probably was not going to work out. But he had to give it a chance, he wanted to watch the new girl, and then decide what he was going to do with the stirrings of lust he had deep down in his body. He called it lust because he could not admit to it being anything else.

“Cindy. This is...” He turned and she opened her mouth to speak before uttering her name in a high voice.

“Paris.”

He hesitated. What kind of name was that, he doubted Shar had ever been anywhere near France. It was the kind of name her type gave to their kids, again he thought. "Why?"

She shifted nervously as he stood looking at her, and Cindy cleared her throat impatiently.

“Starting to get busy,” she said, and he clicked back into work mode.

“OK. Show Paris the tables she has to wait. Can you take a couple of them on to lighten the load just for tonight?”

“Sure,” she said, all though a full blown strop was simmering just below the surface.

He couldn't blame her, the staff he had at the moment all worked well together, and it made life easy. A new girl with no experience would throw a spanner in the works for a week or so. Still, he was the boss and they would have to deal with it.

“Come on,” she said none too kindly to Paris. “Let’s get you started.”

Paris looked at Wes, and he thought she was about to speak, but she didn’t. Instead, she tore her eyes from him and followed Cindy. As she walked past, he inhaled deeply, his heightened senses tasting her on the air. She almost made his mouth water, so sweet, and he knew if he mated with her it would be so very satisfying, to break her himself.

There was where the next problem reared its ugly head. Either she was playing him, or she really was a sweet and innocent virgin. If she had no idea about the world he lived in, and he was sure she didn’t. Was it really fair to thrust her into it? And how the hell was he ever going to explain to her what he was. Not without her running as fast and as far away from him and his kind forever.

He threw her in at the deep end. She had to work alongside Cindy, the unfriendly women who had been working behind the bar when Paris had first walked in. She was not too happy about it either “Babysitting” she murmured, a little too loud. And not by accident.

Worse, her new hunky boss came to mind the bar, and she could feel his eyes on her constantly. She tried to shut him out, but it was hard, her body seemed attuned to his gaze, wanting to betray her. The only good thing was she picked up the routine of the work quickly.

She got drinks for the customers who sat at her tables, and took their orders to the bar. Paris then waited while he got the drinks. She tried to keep her gaze lowered while her boss, whose name she found out was Wes, worked, trying not to meet his eyes, too afraid of what she might see. Alternatively, was she scared there would be nothing to see, and the whole attraction was a figment of her naive imagination.

If anyone wanted to order food, she took that too, and headed over to the kitchen. A much safer place for her nerves, the kitchen staff seemed much more calm and relaxed. Then, when her order was ready, she collected it, and took it to the table. Hopefully to a satisfied customer.

Overall, she found it was easy enough as long as she set a routine in her head. Keeping an eye on everyone, and the kitchen. If the food was warm, and the service was quick, she got a tip. Soon she felt much better about the whole thing, until she caught sight of Wes watching her again, then all her insecurities came flooding back. He made her feel flustered, and she nearly spilled fries into some guy's lap. There was no harm done, despite him asking her if she would have cleared them off his lap if any had landed there. She knew what he meant, and hurried away, apologising.

Her shift ended when the bar closed, there was some cleaning and tidying up to do, and Wes had to politely ask some of some stragglers to leave. Apart from that, it was an uneventful evening. Even Cindy had to admit she had worked hard.

“Better than your mom,” she said as they wiped the tables down. “She’s normally disappeared out the door by now.”

“So you think I might do OK? That I’ll get the job?” Paris asked.

“Can’t see why not. Of course the test is a Friday and Saturday night, a few of the regulars like to let their hair down.”

Paris thought about Cindy's warning. Saturday would be a long day, she still had to work for Ted, and then she would come here after. Fitting homework in around it all might be tricky, but she was determined to make this work.

So deep in thought, trying to set a schedule up in her head, she did not hear Wes come up behind her. “You did OK,” he said, although from his tone she did not know if that was exactly how he felt. He really did not seem to want her around at all.

“Thanks,” she said. “Is there anything else I need to do before I go?”

“No. You're done.”

“So I can go?”

He paused before nodding. Cindy had already grabbed her bag and called “Bye,” as she walked out the door. It struck Paris all of a sudden that she was alone with him, unless of course, she had completely misread the situation and he had a wife or girlfriend waiting for him upstairs.

“When do you want me again?” she asked, heading for the door.

“I don’t recall having you at all yet.”

She turned and looked at him, wondering if he was implying she would have to sleep with him to get the job. Would she, could she do that? Deciding not to answer she pulled the door open to leave. He was so fast she did not see him move, but the next second he was stood beside her, his hand stopping her leaving.

“Please,” she said, afraid he was going to force himself on her. Was he the kind of man that preyed on young virgins? “Let me go.”

“No,” he said, and she was sure he was breathing in her scent. She found it incredibly sexy that he was attracted to her, but she could not give him any sign she wanted him. If she gave in to him in any way, she would be lost.