Romance: A Virgin For The Tiger: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance)

A Virgin For The Tiger

Ashley Hunter

 Copyright 2015 by Ashley Hunter

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced

in any way whatsoever, without written permission

from the author, except in case of brief

quotations embodied in critical reviews

and articles.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First edition, 2015

Chapter 1

Bernadette walked to the end of the bar to take a man’s drink order.

“Coming up,” she said, and he quipped something about him already being “up.” Like any other bad joke made about a dick, she smiled, gave a polite titter, and poured him his cocktail.

They all thought they were so clever. They always did. Of all things, Bernadette had gotten used to being hit on.

She grew up in this tiny logging town, most of these men having watched her grow up. Now that she was of age, 26, and still a virgin, it was a constant game with them to try and get her to sleep with them.

Bernadette knew there was something different about her, something wild inside, but she respected herself too much to waste it on these types.

The logging town was set under the shadow of a mysterious mountain, the history riddled with rumors and tall tales. Great beasts with the minds of men, unsolved murders or animal attacks, it was all a bunch of crap. Bernadette didn’t believe a word of it, but it didn’t change the people from talking.

As she served the man his drink, a newcomer came strolling in. She’d come to know all of the folk coming and going in this town, but this one was different. His long, oily hair covered most of his face, his denim jacket faded and filthy. He sat at the bar in the seat closest to the door and sniffed at the air with a hungry look in his eye as if he smelled barbeque.

“Hey there stranger,” she said, wiping up a spot with a rag and then tossing it to the side. “Get you a drink?”

The man’s head twitched when she spoke, and he looked her dead on. That hungry look in his eye intensified as he scanned up and down her body.

“Yes,” he said, his voice low and eerie. “I believe I know exactly what I want.”

“Which is?”

The side of his mouth curled up, exposing an unnaturally long incisor. “Rum. Coke. Don’t go easy on the pour, huh?”

Bernadette glanced over to the liquor wall where the rum sat just above her head. When she reached up to grab the bottle, the stranger produced a nearly inaudible moan. This man’s eyes made her feel as though he’d just puked all over her.

There was an unnatural, intangible sense about him that grated against the grain of her sensibilities. Bernadette was used to every man in town trying to take her virginity, but this one was downright revolting.

Rushing to get away from him, she poured the man his drink, took his money, then went back into the kitchen.

“Larry,” she said to the cook, “I’m stepping out back for a smoke.”

“You don’t smoke,” Larry called back.

She knew that just as well as he did, but she just had to get away from that man. She’d wait out back for as long as it took until he left, and she didn’t care if every person in that bar got fed up with the lack of service and left as well. The whole damn bar could burn to the ground for all she cared.

Once outside, she shook and did the “gross guy dance” in an attempt to get the stench off of her.

Footsteps crunched over gravel in a rush toward her.

Bernadette turned to see who it was, and saw the gross man charging her. She barely had time to throw up her arms before he threw himself through the air, tackling her. The second she opened her mouth to scream, his hand clamped down on her throat to silence her.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he said, spittle flying from his teeth as he shushed her. “Quiet now. I love you, but I’ll snap your neck if you make another sound.”

Bernadette’s mouth was open wide but she couldn’t pull in any air passed his hand.

“Quiet?” he asked in a whisper, and she nodded quickly. His grip loosened, but didn’t leave entirely.

Deep gasping breaths filled her lungs, and she immediately started crying. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the strangulation.

“Oh, baby, all I want is you. You’re going to be mine, see. We’re going to go into the woods now, you and I, and I’m going to put my heir inside you.” He groaned, brushing his nose along the side of her throat, an insane laugh ripping from him.

“I smelled you. Oooh, I smelled you from miles away. You have no idea. No idea. None of what you are. Oh, my sweet. You will be mine. Your smell as sweet as meat, deep as blood, but to see you…”

His entire body shuddered atop hers, his weight crushing her. When his slimy, red tongue licked up her neck, she had to turn her head away. Bile rose to the back of her throat, but she was afraid to vomit lest he choke her to death.

“Your curves. I need your thick, sweet, delicious body. I need to feel you, to be in you. You don’t even know. You don’t, do you? You don’t know.”

“Know what?” she asked, not sure why she even bothered. The way he was so frantic about it, so crazed.

The hand on her throat rose to her chin, gripping her face and turning it to him. His eyes flashed golden, and when he grinned, his two fangs grew a full inch. The middle of his face pushed out, almost like a muzzle, and he started laughing. That big red tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.

She screamed. It wasn’t intentional, but it happened all the same. The sound cut off in an instant when he grabbed her by the throat again, pure rage taking over his features, turning him into a monster.

“I said not to scream!”

Bernadette thrashed under him, trying to free herself, but he was impossibly strong. The tips of her fingers struck something solid. In that moment, she had no idea what it was, but she pushed her body to the side, and was able to slip her fingers around the cold metal thing.

She didn’t hold anything back as she lifted the thing and crashed it into the man’s head. Metal struck his skull, the light going out from his eyes in an instant, and his body toppled to the side.

Bernadette sucked in air, coughing and choking, her throat aching and burning. Pain pulsed from her neck and down her shoulders as she climbed out from under him. His body, limp and lifeless, rolled to the side when she stood.

Bursting through the doors back into the kitchens, Bernadette screamed for Larry. Over and over she screamed his name, even when he was right beside her. She screamed, her entire body pitching forward as her mind unleashed all the emotion she was feeling.

The other patrons of the bar came rushing into the kitchen to see what was going on. Henry, one of the older regulars, came forward and gingerly took the object from her hand.

“Whose blood is this?” he asked. The object she’d grabbed had been a piece of rebar with a hunk of bloody concrete stuck to the end.

“He tried to, that man, outside. He’s outside,” she said between choking sobs.

“C’mon boys, let’s get the sucker!” Henry cried, the eight other men taking up the cry.

When they rushed out there, she expected to hear something. Shock at the dead body, or a fight, or something. Instead, the only sounds were of confusion.

Pushing Larry away, Bernadette forced her way outside and through the crowd of men.

On the gravel was a small pool of blood and the word “MINE” smeared with the blood on the gravel.

Chapter 2

One week later, Bernadette sat at the desk of her new job. Mary, her old high school friend, helped her get the job working as secretary for possibly the youngest, and most handsome billionaire in the entire city.

After the mess back in town, and knowing that… thing, was still out there, Bernadette had to leave. Disappear. There was no way she would risk him finding her again.

Here, among all these people, she felt she could make a fresh new start. Now she just had to do well for a reputed hard-ass. If she got fired, she didn’t know what she’d do.

“All right,” Susanne the hiring manager said, “just like we discussed on the phone. Bring him his coffee the moment he comes in the door, write down everything he says, and just please don’t talk back or make eye-contact. I really stuck my neck out for you because Mary helped me a few months back, and if you make me look bad—“

“Why, oh why,” a man’s sing-song voice carried through the floor, “am I looking at an old ass bent over a desk?”

“Mr. Delacroix,” Susanne said, shooting up straight and spinning around.

“You’re early.”

“Am I not allowed to come in and run my own business? I’m sorry, I didn’t get the email saying you were in charge now.”

“No,” she said, looking down.

“I just meant, I was just giving young Bernadette here the tips on—“

“Black,” Delacroix said, looking at Bernadette. It was as though Susanne had simply disappeared from his mind.

“Excuse me?” Bernadette asked.

“Black.”

“I don’t—“

“Black!” Then, turning to a stunned Susanne, “Why are you still here?”

The woman jumped, and shot a look at Bernadette that said “good luck” and she scurried away.

“Black,” he said again. “Black. Black.”

Bernadette, flustered, ran her hands along her desk and held up a ball-point pen.

“What the—“ he said, grabbing the pen and throwing it disdainfully to the side. “Now! Black! Go!”

Right, the coffee!

Delacroix slapped his hand on the desk with each word as he shouted, “Now, now, now, go!”

Bernadette jumped from her chair, nearly tripping over her new shoes, and hurried off to the coffee station.

Was he serious with this? Mary had mentioned he was a little difficult to work for, but this… A little difficult? The man was a petulant child!

Bernadette shook her head as she poured coffee into a disposable cup. If this kept up, she wasn’t sure how long she could take it.

After years of putting up with drunk patrons, she thought anything would be better than that crap town.

Now, she found herself missing it. At least it was stable work that she knew.

Bernadette stepped quickly, trying to not spill the coffee and failing. The hot liquid splashed over the side, burning her fingers. Not wanting to waste more time, she just hissed at the pain and kept going.

Her 33 year old boss was in his office. He’d taken off his coat and sat at his desk, organizing some paperwork.

Not wanting to disturb him, she stepped to the side of the desk and set the cup on the edge.

The man’s hand snapped out in a flash, hitting the cup and spilling the coffee on the floor.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” he asked her.

Bernadette stared with an open mouth as the huge coffee stain on the gray carpet.

“I asked you a question. You do speak English, yes?”

“Y-yes,” she said, pulling her eyes away and looking at him.

“I do, sir. Nothing is wrong with me. What the he—“ The look in his eye cut off the sentence for her, and she clamped her mouth shut.

“My coffee,” he said slowly, “goes here.”

Shocked, Bernadette watched his impertinent little finger rise and touch on a coaster at the front of his desk.

“I see.”

“Do you see this? This ring you’ve put on my $60,000 desk? If this isn’t cleaned up in 30 seconds, I’ll deem the entire piece of furniture trashed. And do you know who will be buying me a new desk?”

“Me.”

“Correct. Do you have $60,000? Because I’ll want an exact replica of this one.”

“No sir, I don’t.”

“You don’t. Well that’s unfortunate, because you’re still standing there. 17 seconds.”

Bernadette looked around, instantly frantic for a rag or something to wipe away the coffee stain.

For the briefest moment, she considered grabbing his coat and wiping up the coffee with that, but that struck her as an idea slightly worse than simply throwing herself out the window.

When he started counting down from five, she dashed forward, pulled up the hem of her skirt, and used it to wipe the desk clean.

“…one,” he said.

“Close. Why are you still standing there? Clean that mess up. Get me my coffee. This is a bad first day.”

Dumbfounded, Bernadette turned and started to walk from the office, unable to think of anything to say in reply.

“You make a terrible first impression,” he called after her, and she hunched her shoulders against the crushing weight of his words.