Saved by the Alpha (Paranormal BBW Erotic Romance, Alpha Wolf Mate)

Contents

Copyright Information
. 2

Saved by the Alpha
. 3

Check Out More Releases From
Haley
. 22

Excerpts From Other Stories
. 23

Saved
by the Alpha

By
Haley Nix

Copyright
© 2014
By
Haley Nix

Saved
by the Alpha
is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, incidents and events are the products of the author’s imagination
or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All
rights reserved. This book or portions thereof may not be reproduced, scanned,
or distributed in any form whatsoever without direct permission from the
author.

This
book is intended
Only for Mature Audiences 18+.
It contains mature
themes, substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be
considered offensive by some readers.

You won’t believe me when I tell you this. Why?
Because no one else does. So I may as well start from the beginning, give you
the whole story, and let you judge for yourself. In the end, I don’t care if
you believe me. It happened. It’s still happening. But anyway, I might as well
get on with it.

My name is Alexis and I’m twenty-six years old. I
live out in Brooklyn in a dingy apartment on the outskirts of the city. I moved
to New York to become a writer, but right now I spend more time waiting table
than working on stories. It’s hard just getting by. Needless to say, the glitz
and glamor of the city turned out to be something of a mirage. Sure, I see it
when I take the subway into Manhattan – the bright lights, expensive cars and
designer clothes. It’s amazing, but that’s not what life is like for most
people here.

See, a lot of us are just struggling to get by,
working menial jobs to support our dreams. But really, I’m painting too bleak
of a picture. I love it here. There’s so much to do and see, so many interesting
and different people. You can always find some new place to go – a new bar, new
restaurant, bookstore, museum, etc. It’s truly quite amazing.

I was out at one of these places on the night that
everything changed. I got out late from work that night. It was a Friday, so
fortunately we’d been busy and I walked out the door with a good amount of tip
money in my pocket. My girlfriends were out at a bar I’d never been to, some
place that served gigantic $5 margaritas. I desperately needed one of those
that night, maybe two.

The rain was coming down in sheets, obscuring the
bright neon lights that surrounded me, the wet pavement reflecting the
intermittent flash of headlights and taillights. The restaurant I worked at was
blocks away from a subway. Having forgotten my umbrella, I thought it best to
take a cab so as not to show up at the bar soaking wet.

There was another reason I took the cab,
a darker
reason
. For several weeks now, I’d felt as if someone had been following me.
Yes, I know that sounds certifiably insane, but trust me, it was all too real.
It’s not like I have some kind of sixth sense or anything, but I kept getting
that nervous feeling, like someone was watching me, that utter and extreme
self-consciousness of someone else’s eyes observing your every movement.

It’s not rational, but it felt real, real enough to
be worth paying for a cab to escape that feeling for at least a few minutes.
Besides, I’d feel better when I was with my friends; I always felt better around
other people. It was only when I was alone that I felt that eerie feeling.

I saw a cab with the numbers lit up, indicating that
it was open for business. I stepped to the curb and held my arm high in the
air, making an expert motion with my hand. The cab skidded to a stop on the wet
street a few feet ahead of me. I hustled through the rain, opened the door, and
slid into the backseat.

Hot air blew in through the vents up front, the
inside of the cab providing a toasty escape from the frigid rain outside. I
gave the cabbie the address of the bar and sat back in the seat, leaning up
against the door as I stared out the window at the beauty of New York City
streaming by.

There was something special about seeing the city by
cab. The drivers were notoriously reckless and impatient, so the lights of the
streets streamed by at seemingly warp speeds. I leaned into the window to get a
better view of the skyscrapers that towered over me on the left side. I’m not
ashamed to admit I was still mesmerized by Manhattan – there were just so many
people, so many big buildings, the buzz of activity, even on a rainy night.

I watched as crowds of people walked around, going
into and coming out of bars and restaurants. It was past 11 PM, but in NYC that
might as well be eight o’clock at night. People are out at all hours. In a
certain sense, the night was just getting started.

When I finally made it to the bar, it was going on
midnight. The bar was somewhere in Midtown, a very crowded spot, a bit too
crowded and noisy for my taste. But supposedly the drinks were cheap, and that
made the environment more than tolerable. I’d texted my friends in advance, and
found them hovering near the bar, a massive margarita was ready and waiting for
me – something for which I was very grateful.

I would need a drink very badly in a moment, because
the very second I turned away from my friends’ conversation to survey the room,
my eyes fell on Jason. I hadn’t seen him in over a month. We’d gone out for a
while, then out of the blue I never heard from him again. I’d texted a few
times, trying to find out what the deal was. I’d even left him a message or
two. No response.

As I took a deep sip on my margarita, I made a
silent promise to myself that I would confront him tonight. But I’d need a little
more liquid courage before I had the nerve to do that. I waved at the bartender
and ordered myself another margarita. I was already a bit buzzed, but I needed
to be beyond buzzed if I was going to talk to him. I grabbed my second drink
and went back to my conversation with the girls, reflexively checking over my
shoulder every few minutes to make sure Jason was still in the bar.

I waited twenty minutes, about enough time for me to
finish my second drink. I put the empty glass down on the counter and started
to make my way over to him.

He was way down toward the front end of the bar,
about fifteen feet from the entrance. I walked slowly through the dense groups
of people, pushing and squeezing here and there.
Too damn crowded
. But
when I got closer I saw something I hadn’t seen before: he was talking with a
woman.

She looked to be about my age, a skinny little
thing. Her face seemed familiar. Where had I seen her before? I slowed my pace,
wanting to remember who she was before I came any closer. Then suddenly it
dawned on me. I’d seen her in Jason’s Facebook pictures. She was a legal
assistant at the law firm where he worked.

I felt slightly relieved at that realization. For a
second, I’d thought she was just some random slut that he was chatting up, but
now that I had placed her, I felt a bit better. Jason had told me before that
she was engaged. That meant I didn’t have anything to worry about.

When I got a little closer I saw him pause, looking
deeply into the woman’s eyes. They were talking really closely together. He
kept looking at her lips and she at his. I stopped in my tracks, feeling
prescient, as if I could already see the future unfolding.

I stood frozen to the spot, watching as he leaned in
to kiss her, watching as his hand drifted down the side of her hip, giving her
tight little ass a squeeze. Their kiss broke and he looked up at her and
smiled. I’d seen that smile before, that sexy, devilish smile that let you know
he planned on fucking you that night. Something must have caught his eye though,
because he flinched and looked up, facing in my direction.

His eyes widened, looking guilty as they met mine.
Then he gave a sheepish and sly grin, one that let me know he didn’t care if he
hurt me. He didn’t care that he’d been caught or that I might feel betrayed. He
kept his eyes locked on mine, as if taunting me, daring me to say something, to
confront him and make a fool out of myself.

I gave him a defiant stare, then turned and walked
away before the tears that were forming in my eyes could fall down my face,
exposing my fragility and insecurity.
That bastard
. Why couldn’t he have
just told me he’d lost interest? Why cut off all contact only for me to find
out like this, in the absolute worst way possible?

When I rejoined my friends they could tell something
was wrong. The strong drinks that minutes before had given me courage had now
turned me incredibly emotional. I did my best to hide it, explaining that I was
tired after a long day of
work, that
I just wanted to
go home and get some sleep.

“Stay out with us!” they said. “The night’s just
getting started!”

But I wasn’t in the mood, not after what I’d just
seen. I wanted to be alone. I didn’t even want to talk about it, to give them
all the details, to analyze and re-analyze it. There was nothing to analyze;
everything was plain as day.
Jason wasn’t into me anymore
. Talking about
it would only increase the hurt. So I said goodbye and left the bar, praying
that the subway trains were running on time. I just wanted to be home, warm and
asleep in my own bed. I’d deal with all this baggage tomorrow.

***

Walking out of the bar I met a complete and utter
downpour. Cold rain fell in sheets, harder and faster than before. I thought momentarily
about hailing a cab, but the ride to Brooklyn would cost almost fifty dollars.
I certainly didn’t have that kind of money to spare. Hopefully, there would be
a train waiting in the station.

The subway schedule was always weird going into the
weekends, especially after midnight. It was hit or miss. Upon entering the
station, you might be met with a train that was three minutes away or one that
was thirty minutes from the stop. I told myself that if the train were over
twenty minutes away I’d suck it up and hail a cab. Any wait shorter than that I
could handle.

When I went underground there were a lot of people
around, mostly young people like me heading home from bars or traveling to a
different bar where they would continue their Friday night. It was crowded,
meaning I might not find a spot to sit on the train, but I was happy that there
were people around. It isn’t that I needed company or anything, if that were
the case I would have stayed with my friends, but I could feel myself being
watched again.

I looked around, trying to do so surreptitiously,
casually, not wanting to draw any attention. I saw a few people looking in my
direction. Occasionally a coincidental glance occurred in which I briefly
locked eyes with strangers. But none of these people seemed suspicious.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down.
It’s
all in your head
, I told myself.
No one is watching you; you’re just
paranoid
. There was only a five minute wait for the train, but between the
ride and the walk from the station to the apartment, it would be over an hour
before I got home. I still had a long night ahead of me.

I waited in the station, calmed down now that I
realized the apparent threat wasn’t a real one. The feeling of being watched dissipated
and my heart rate decreased back to normal. I was breathing easily. Only two
more minutes until my train would be here.

And once I was on the train, I started to feel even
better. With an hour long ride ahead, I had some time to think about things.
Jason had hurt me tonight, but now that I knew the truth, I just needed to
focus on getting over him.

The thing I just couldn’t get my mind off of was the
woman he had been with. I hated thinking that she was judging me. The fact that
she was so damn skinny was what sent me over the edge. Jason had told me I was
sexy, but was he lying? That girl and I certainly didn’t fit the same body
type. Had he just been sleeping with me until someone better, someone
skinnier
came along?

That was the thought that crushed me. That I had
been used, that he’d always considered me not good enough. This wasn’t the
first time something like this had happened to me. The dreaded thought that all
men were like this entered my mind, that I was doomed to be cheated on, that I
was unappealing to men.

I knew that wasn’t true. There must be some men out
there who appreciated a curvy girl, I thought to myself. But I was feeling
cynical, and I knew it would be a long time before I could trust a man again. I
didn’t know how long it would take for me to feel like opening myself up to
that type of rejection. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got. I hated
feeling like this, like I wasn’t good enough because I wasn’t some anorexic
model in a slutty dress.
Dammit, Jason. Why did you do this, you asshole?

You need to calm down
,
I told myself.
This is just the alcohol talking. Things aren’t as bad as
they seem, you’re just overly emotional because of the drinks
. It was true,
I’d had way too much to drink and it was turning me into a crazy person. I
guess what made it so hard was that throughout the past month I’d waited for
Jason to call, to text, anything. I had been hoping so hard he’d break the
silence. I thought he was a good guy, but I was
wrong
.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the
window of the subway car. It always hurts finding out someone isn’t who you
think they are.

***

About forty minutes into my trip, a static-laden
voice burst out across the loudspeaker of the train letting us know we’d have
to switch over to a local train at Atlantic Avenue. There had been an accident
on the express track and all passengers were required to transfer at the next
station. I grumbled to myself.

The local train almost took twice as long as the
express, but at least I was mostly done with the long journey home. I just felt
so damn tired that every moment spent outside of my cozy apartment felt like an
eternity. I exited the train with the rest of the group and stood waiting on
the platform for the local train that was bound to arrive in the next five
minutes.