Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures (3 page)

10 Camille Anthony

forgotten the specifics of it, couldn’t recall whom her date had been or what he’d looked like.

She had absolutely nothing with which to compare her present feelings.

Hell, but she certainly couldn’t deny her body had reacted strongly to that fantasy of Pavel beating her butt and then banging her into oblivion. The notion shocked her silly. She tried out the same fantasy using Brad Pitt.

No.

Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Uh-uh!

Orlando Bloom as Legolas.

Well…maybe…ah…no, but there had been a twinge there.

The prince guy?

Hell NO!

Well… she mused, taking a deep breath. That pretty much sums it up. Seems I like the

idea of being mastered only if it’s Pavel doing the mastering.

Brought up short, Kaila reeled, her arousal doused by a dash of reality. What was she thinking? Why was she wasting her time daydreaming about something that was never

gonna happen? This Pavel was maybe royalty -- if not, at least one of the world’s movers and shakers -- so far out of her league he wasn’t in the same state, let alone the same ballpark. For god’s sake, she didn’t even know his last name.

Kaila fought to firm her quivering lower lip. Looking down at her overly plump body,

she mentally catalogued all its faults. Sadness overwhelmed her. Sometimes -- like right now -- she could really understand and totally sympathize with the desperation felt by others trapped in the same situation as she.

The quiet hopelessness they suffered, she knew firsthand. Knew what pushed them,

what drove them to spend their hard-come-by wages on fad diets and programs, giving in to the urge to grasp at those promised miracle cures. Like those others, she’d lost hundreds of pounds, only to agonize over her inability to keep the shed weight from returning.

Kaila viewed what she called her rebound pounds as enemies she had to struggle

against day and night. Like a million other women caught in the same quicksand of yo-yo dieting, isolated in a fat hating-teasing-ridiculing-dehumanizing world, she’d gradually grown from hating the pounds to hating herself for her perceived lack of self-control.

By all that was holy, if the possibility of losing and keeping off the weight came with the price tag of surrendering total control of her body to someone else, she’d pay it in a red-hot minute. If someone could derail her depression-fueled eating binges by commanding her obedience and ruling over her dietary lifestyle, then…yes! She would willingly submit. She’d sign on for any punishment as long as it was at Pavel’s hands and glory in it, knowing he punished her to help her accept responsibility for her failures, to meet her goals. And if she Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures

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ever met her weekly challenge, she knew just who with and how she’d choose to spend those award hours!

The harried waitress slid the thin credit card platter onto the table before her. Still dazed at the conversation going on in the next booth and the radical thoughts swarming in her brain, she absently added a decent gratuity before scrawling her signature on the receipt.

Here was the hated, embarrassing part of having to squeeze into a narrow cubby:

prying her way out. Kaila carefully worked her belly along the table, scooting sideways to the edge of the seat. Twisting at the waist, she used the edge to lever herself out of the close confines of the booth. Finally upright, she gathered up her purse and bags, straightened her dress, and settled her coat before giving in to the compulsion to sneak another look at the two men whose conversation had intrigued her so.

Peeking over the partition into the other booth her cheeks went hot. Frozen, her gaze collided with the intense, pale green gaze of the man she’d been drooling over a few minutes earlier. Kaila tore her eyes away, only to slide into eye contact with a knowing sapphire gaze.

The white-haired prince winked at her, which startled her so badly she unwittingly returned shell-shocked eyes to the brown-haired man.

Oh gods, they’re both staring at me! If they didn’t know it before, they have to realize I overheard their conve sation

r

.

Eyes widened as a chill raced down her spine. Sneaking another look from under her

thick lashes at Pavel, Kaila worried at her full bottom lip. Oh gods, he’s smiling at me!

Stomach flip-flopping, muscles quivering, she stifled a moan. Another rush of heat

burned in her cheeks and spread downward, leaving her awash in helpless desire. In the seething cauldron of her womb, cream churned, overflowing into her pulsating pussy. Please, God, the last thing I need is for it to escape my already sopping panties and slide down my thighs.

Shyly averting her gaze from the undisguised burning interest in a pair of dazzling

eyes, she shivered. Hurrying past their table, she strove to ignore the avid glitter in the second pair of ice-blue eyes. That steady glacial regard unnerved her in a different way entirely, made her shiver with unease. Revulsion and fear of ridicule tightened her skin and set her nerves jangling. She just knew the chilly blond had been sizing her up as a potential client.

That’s when disaster happened.

The heel of her left shoe caught on a wrinkle in the carpeting and snapped. Her ankle turned, pitching her sideways. Packages and her bag went careening every which way as her arms flew up, cartwheeling in a frantic effort to maintain her balance. Nothing worked.

Shrieking in fright, Kaila flailed one last time before toppling over…right onto Pavel’s lap.

Heat. One hand fisted in raw silk, grappling to keep her precarious seat lest she slide, the other clasped the corded column of a man’s neck. Beneath the cloth, solid male flesh generated a heat that found its echo in the hidden folds of her sex.

12 Camille Anthony

Hardness. This was so close to her dearest fantasy; to be held and cherished,

surrounded by the steadfast love of a caring man who saw beyond the defects of her

body…all the way to her hungry soul.

Home. For a timeless moment, basking in the comfort of the strong arms cradling her

shaken body, Kaila pretended the man holding her was her forever lover, the man she

dreamed and fantasized about on a regular basis. God, he smelled delicious. Like sun-warmed man and pine trees. Sublime peace flooded her soul, melted her bones…until she recalled exactly where she was, whose arms were wrapped around her and whose lap she was

overflowing.

The accident hadn’t taken any real time. She’d been in his lap less than a minute, but Kaila felt an eternity had swept over her, tumbling her world before depositing her onto an unknown shore.

Her face flushed hot with embarrassment. Kaila wrestled her urge to remain right

where she was, but it took every ounce of willpower she could muster to relax the grip of her fingers on his neck. With a reluctance she could taste, she removed her other hand from his chest and leaned back, whimpering as her body left his enveloping heat.

Her move met with resistance and Kaila’s breath stalled in her throat. Stunned, her

pulse galloped as she felt -- just for a minute -- Pavel’s arms tighten around her, his big hands closing over the abundant flesh of her hips and pressing her full curves back against his wide, washboard chest.

Before she could savor the renewed heat, the moment was over. Strong hands lifted

and steadied her as, thoughts whirling, she braced and tried to stand. She wobbled as her legs took her weight, praying she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. In seeming answer to her silent plea, the strength returned to her legs and she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before turning to face the seated man whose lap she’d commandeered.

“Thank you for catching me.” Her lips turned up in a wry smile. “I apologize for the

unannounced visit.”

The man rose and bowed from the waist, his smile slight, eyes gentle. “It was my

pleasure, believe me; feel free to visit any time.”

Kaila gave him a weak smile in return. His words were world shaking enough, but did

the man have any inkling how devastating that flashing dimple of his was?

Shaking her head, she settled for a simple, “Thank you.” Nodding one last time, she

turned and limped over to retrieve her broken heel. With a sigh, she pried off the matching heel to make her shoes level, bemoaning the loss of the pair. A present from her eldest brother, she could never hope to replace them.

By the time she’d worked the straps back over her feet and straightened up, both men

had gathered her scattered packages and stood holding them. “Your shoe is broken. That cannot be comfortable. Allow me to order you a conveyance home…”

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“Thanks again, but no, thanks,” she muttered, almost snatching her parcels from them.

“I don’t have far to go. Just around the block, really.” Kaila only wanted to get out of the restaurant and away from the embarrassing situation.

Keeping her head down after the first unguarded glance, she evaded the cool assessing glitter in the wintry depths of the prince’s eyes, wondering why he looking at her so hard.

What was he thinking about her?

As she walked away, she could feel their gazes on her, burning into the skin of her

back. At first, self-conscious, she took small, shuffling steps, careful to keep the top of her thighs together. God, she needed to minimize the exaggerated sway of her ample hips. After a moment’s contemplation, however, she figured the hell with it!

Like the arrogant blond bombshell pointed out earlier, I’m one of those women who’ve

tried everything to lose this weight, and it wasn’t happening. Her lips firmed. Fuck you, Prince Not-Charming. You don’t like what’s swinging in the breeze, you don’t have to look!

She deliberately slowed down, taking her time. Placing each foot carefully in front of the other, she ignored the natural movement of her butt. Each step set her hips swaying widely, almost bumping the tables on both sides of the aisle and she was sure both men got an eye full as she swept down the narrow path to the door.

So there!

14 Camille Anthony

A Piece of Cake

Rickard and Pavel retook their seats and Rickard immediately turned his head toward

his friend, noting the stark expression of lust and more still turning the light green eyes to shimmering gold. Tucking the fact away for later ammunition, he observed Pavel watching the retreating back of the very voluptuous black woman hurrying from the restaurant. He smiled, excitement rising, making his cock stir. Oh, baby, I have you now!

Pavel caught his look and cringed. “Don’t say a word!” he warned, shaking his finger at his sovereign prince.

“Oh, but I simply have to, Pavel, you look positively poleaxed!” Devilment danced in

Rickard’s voice as he looked his friend over. “And don’t shake your finger at me.”

His laughing gaze tried to zero in on his friend’s lap. “Speaking of poles, I’m betting your cock is ramrod hard. In fact, I wager you’re sitting there with a mile-long boner from having that black woman’s big ass in your lap! It’s a wonder your cock didn’t drill straight through that hideous off-the-rack suit skirt. Admit it, or I’ll come over there and feel for myself!”

Pavel shifted in his seat, a fierce frown on his face. “The state of my cock is none of your business, and please don’t make fun of her clothes. I doubt many of the working class can afford a personal tailor.”

Rickard smirked, watching him surreptitiously trying to ease his uncooperative hard-

on along the seam of his left leg. As he watched those large hands moving on the outline of the monster cock he’d once had exclusive rights to, heat boiled in his balls and his own cock jerked. “I apologize about the unkind comment, but I think the state of your cock is very much my business…or at least, my concern. Don’t attempt to evade my question. Shall I find out for myself?”

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For a moment he thought for sure Pavel would tell him to fuck off, but the humor of

the situation seemed to catch his conservative friend. Pavel’s mouth twitched up in a rueful grin. “Hell, why would you when you can see the swelling from there? Yes, she made me hard. I’m stiff enough to drill tunnels through our iron-laced mountain ranges.”

They both dissolved into laughter at Pavel’s pained words. Relaxed by the shared

amusement, Rickard tested the waters. “But you’d rather drill that chocolate marshmallow ass. Damn, Pavel, did you see her face?”

Pavel nodded, sighed. “Of course I saw her. In fact, I’d noticed her when I first arrived.

This heavenly scent drifted past my nose and I tracked it back to her. I think she might be one of the women I’ve told you about -- a Breed. I’d love to get closer, analyze her fragrance at the source. God, she’s so beautiful! Sadly, she has no idea how lovely and special she truly is.”

He turned his glowing gaze on Rickard. “Did you see her? Smooth café au lait

complexion, loose, sexy curls down to her shoulders, full bouncy breasts and those wide rounded hips…” Pavel licked his lips and Rickard caught a glimpse of fang. “Did you really take a good look at her or just dismiss her as merely another clumsy fat woman?”

“I wasn’t talking about her looks, man, I was talking about her expression. She must

have overheard our conversation!”

Pavel’s eyebrows drew together. “Why do you say that?”

“First off, she was sitting in this booth right here --” He tapped the partition to his left.

“-- and her expression when she met our gazes was priceless. She looked shocked and

wondering, fearful and aroused…all at the same time. I bet one reason she blew out of here so fast was to get somewhere private before her panties overflowed and the cream slid down her thighs.”

Janecek’s facial muscles tightened into a forbidding frown. “You think she was that

impressed? That she liked you that much?”

Rickard smirked. “All women like me…if they ever spare me a glance. Hell, Pavel, she