Hungry for Her Curves (BBW Alpha Werewolf Shifter Paranormal Romantic Erotica)

H
UNGRY
FOR
H
ER
C
URVES

SIERRA WOLF

A NAUGHTY BY
NATURE SHIFTER STORY

HUNGRY FOR HER CURVES

Sierra Wolf

All Rights Reserved
©
2014
Sierra Wolf
.
First Printing: 2014

All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means with the
prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other
noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover
Images Photo Credit:
arturkurjan
/ sbelov

Author's
Note: All characters in this story are 18 years of age and older, and
all sexual acts are consensual.

Chapter
1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Sneak Peeks

I frosted the cupcakes with automatic
precision, my mind glazed over completely as I churned out row after
row of perfect buttercream swirls. What had once been a pleasurable
hobby had betrayed me as my family convinced me to come home and help
save their ailing bakery. Now I would be happy to never see a
perfectly frosted pastry again in my life.

Foggy Hollow had a way of swallowing
people up, and now it had swallowed me. I thought I had escaped for
good, with my comfortable, well-paying office job and a small but
sexy penthouse apartment awaiting my signature on the lease, but a
single phone call had changed all that.

I found myself on a bus to the
backwoods a month later, my earthly possessions packed in several
buttery leather suitcases, my expensive jewelry kept tasteful, and my
pencil skirt pristine and hugging every curve perfectly. My entire
family had been waiting for me at the bus stop. They stared at me as
though I was some alien life form as I stepped off the bus.

“You sure had it good out there,
Vi,” my sister Lily said, casting an envious eye over my
gleaming stiletto heels.

It only took a week for the pencil
skirts and heels to disappear into the recesses of my childhood
bedroom, replaced with practical jeans and t-shirts. The only
concession I made to my old, hard-earned life was that my t-shirts
were made of the silkiest cotton I could find. Some habits die hard.

Despite my sour attitude, my money and
hard work was bringing the bakery back from the brink of death. It
turned out that a lot of the people here remembered me, not to
mention my baking skills, which had gone neglected during my time in
college. Over half the town showed up at the bakery on my first day
working there, just to see what chubby, wild-haired little Violet had
grown up to become.

I finished frosting the cupcakes,
coming back to the present just in time to see Matthew Yates walk in,
looking uncharacteristically subdued. He had been my chief tormentor
as a girl, calling me a cow, a pig, a whale...well, he
had
always been lacking in the imagination department.

What had been a gangly, freckled boy
had grown up to become a gangly, tanned man, his clothes worn and
faded with hard work. He shuffled up the counter, still looking
shamefaced even though he had apologized for the years of torment
just last week.

“Hey, Violet,” he muttered.
His cowlick bobbed distractingly. I nodded coolly. Apologies didn't
erase years of looking in the mirror and being disgusted with
yourself. Getting over that had taken hard work as well.

“I brought some flowers, just
thought you might want them to brighten the place up a bit,”
Matthew said, his eyes meeting mine for a bare second before sliding
downwards.

I smiled at him. I had once been chubby
and frizzy-haired, but as I grew the pudge became a DD-cup hourglass,
and I had learned the art of taming my curls. It gave me a vindictive
pleasure to see the boys who had made me cry as a girl come crawling
back on their knees to the woman.

“Thank you, Matthew,” I
said, taking the bouquet from him. To his credit, the lilies were
fresh, smelling of clean spring air. “I'll be sure to let Lily
know you brought them.” I smiled sweetly at him and picked up a
cupcake, slowly and sensually running my tongue through the
buttercream frosting. I wanted to laugh out loud at myself at this
display, but it was worth feeling ridiculous to see Matthew swallow
hard and back away, blushing furiously.

I plunked them in a glass jar and
displayed them prominently on the counter. I had discovered after
only a month back in Foggy Hollow that he would not be the last
suitor for the day. Lily and I had a running bet on how many of our
childhood friends and enemies would be back on the daily to flirt
with me, and I turned to the kitchen to call out the current tally to
her, but she wasn't there.

In my cupcake-decorating daze earlier,
I hadn't seen the man sitting in the far corner, nursing a massive
mug of coffee with a half-eaten croissant on his plate. Lily hurried
over to him with a carafe, refilling his coffee, and I heard her
high-pitched giggle as she left him to his breakfast.

I peeked up surreptitiously to study
the stranger. His eyes were focused in on me like lasers, the gold of
the iris surrounded by a deep amber ring, wide and intense. I started
when I realized he had been staring at me first, but after several
moments he had still not broken eye contact.

His face was sculpted beneath a mop of
black curls, his lips pillowy and curved in a smirk. His gaze didn't
waver even as he raised the mug to his lips. I leaned against the
counter, my own stare growing bolder as this stranger and I sized
each other up.

He was built like a tank, his muscular
forearms gleaming with fine hair, his chest as broad as an ox with
the muscles clearly outlined beneath his shirt. I found my gaze was
shamelessly dipping downwards from there and pulled my eyes back up,
ignoring the faint flush in my cheeks. His smirk grew broader as his
eyes ran lazily over my body, lingering on my abundant cleavage and
wide hips. Warmth flooded through me as his eyes flicked back up to
mine, conveying a clear message: he definitely liked what he saw.

He couldn't be a native of Foggy
Hollow; I had never seen him before in my life. I felt Lily at my
shoulder as he toasted me with his coffee mug, flashing a white grin
before returning to his paper.

It took all of my willpower to tear my
eyes away from him and look at my sister. She raised her eyebrows at
me excitedly.

“His name is Cade Bishop,”
she muttered under her breath. “New foreman down at the quarry.
He hasn't been in here in awhile, I was wondering if he'd left
already.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”
I allowed my voice to carry clearly across the room.

“No,” he called back, and I
shivered pleasantly at the playful flash of those golden eyes. There
was a promise in them, a feral sort of gleam that was completely
unfamiliar and totally enthralling.

I
knew this wasn't the last I'd see of him.

The next few days I found myself overly
excited to get to the bakery in the morning, my head jerking around
every time I heard the bell ring. By noon Lily was rolling her eyes,
telling me it looked like I'd developed a tic.

“You're like one of Pavlov's
dogs,” she sighed, carrying a tray of rolls to the oven.
“Without the drooling. Although I doubt that's far behind.”
I punched her lightly in the arm, but she was right. My desperation
to see Cade again was getting ludicrous.

I finally got my wish as evening fell
three days later, while I was carefully wiping down the glass cases.
The bell tinkled and I turned my head, already dismissing the
latecomer as another customer, but Cade took up the entire doorway,
his shoulders broad enough to brush each side, with his eyes focused
directly on me.

I realized I was completely bent over
in front of the case, my ass in full view for him. He grinned at me,
flashing those perfect teeth as he approached.

“It's a bit soon, don't you
think?” he asked. “I like to take a girl on a date
first.”

I straightened up, my ears bright red
with embarrassment. “What makes you think there'll be a date?”

Of course there would be, if he asked.
But any clever comebacks I could've said had completely fallen out of
my head, and I wanted to save a little face.

“Well...” he whispered, the
ghost of a smirk on his lips. He smelled purely masculine, a heady
mix of leather, sweat, and spicy cologne. It made me flush all over,
my stomach filling with warmth. “I have a car waiting outside
for a special lady, and she happens to be standing...right...here.”

With every word he took a step closer,
until he was close enough for me to feel his body heat washing over
my skin. The rock-hard solidity of him took my breath away, like
standing in front of a mountain that hummed with barely-suppressed
tension. The warmth in my stomach slipped downwards, becoming a
tingling between my legs.

I knew if I got in that car, I would
feel him inside me tonight. I gazed up at him, head and shoulders
above me, his amber eyes burning with internal fire as he drank me
in.

“Give me five minutes,” I
croaked, rushing for the storeroom as I peeled off my apron.

It was the most frantic wash-up of my
life, running my fingers through my mane of wild curls, reapplying
mascara with unwise speed, and stripping the flour-coated shirt for a
clean spare camisole I kept in my bag.

I did a once-over in the mirror, making
sure my favorite jeans were hugging me just right, and wished I had
kept my spare Louboutins in there as well. But something told me Cade
Bishop would've been just as happy if I'd gotten into his car covered
in flour and butter. His eyes ran over me appreciatively as I walked
out, the fire in them barely concealed.

“Your chariot awaits,” he
said, his voice thick with tension. He held the door for me, and I
turned before I walked out to see Lily poke her head from the
kitchen, giving me a thumbs-up.

Cade's car was a slick black coup, with
leather seats that caressed my skin. We roared out of the parking lot
and down the empty, straight back road of Foggy Hollow, lined with
trees and not much else.

“I've never seen you here
before,” I said conversationally, hoping my voice was even. My
heart was pounding like a drum in my throat. “Was it just the
job that brought you to Foggy Hollow?”

His eyes flicked over to me, burning my
skin like embers. The hand that gripped the wheel was white-knuckled,
the other grasping his knee.

“Not just the job,” he
said. “There was something that felt right about this place.”
His fingers tightened, making me worry. Had I said something to upset
him?

I looked out the windshield at the full
moon hanging in the sky, gleaming like a silver coin. The Milky Way
stretched behind it like a band of diamonds. The one really good
thing about living in the middle of nowhere was that the nights were
beautiful. You could never really see how alive the sky was in the
city, with the artificial lights burning away the stars.

He saw me looking at the moon, biting
my lip nervously. “Into astronomy?”

“Not really,” I replied. “I
was just thinking that things are much more beautiful out here than
in the city.” I said it without thinking, but suddenly his hand
was on my leg, his skin so hot it felt like it was burning.

“They absolutely are,” he
said, his voice husky. My heart was thudding so hard I wondered if
he'd be able to hear it. The warmth spiraling through me made me feel
dizzy, settling in my stomach and sliding downwards inexorably.

I shifted nervously, my throat dry as
cotton. I had never felt this undone before, no longer in control at
all. His fingers caressed my thigh gently through my jeans, making me
gasp a little at the light touch.

His hand slid upwards, running over me
with no way to stop him. I didn't want to stop him. His fingers
paused at the seam between my legs, then slid up to the waistband,
popping the button easily.

I gasped as his hand slipped inside my
jeans, lifting myself up a few inches to make room for him as his
fingers ran over my slick, wet lips. Something hummed in the seat
beneath me, and it leaned back, reclining me almost flat.

I hooked my thumbs in my belt loops and
slid my jeans down, parting my legs as he ran a single finger over my
slit, making me jump and gasp. My clit was already swelling, tingling
with anticipation as he finally parted my lips and brushed his thumb
lightly over me.