He looks at me over the flatbed of his truck and smiles and the sight sends heat shooting straight to my pussy.
The confidence of this man… the smug self-assuredness. The fearlessness. The audacity. The boldness. He’s an alpha male in every sense of the word.
I’ve always been attracted to the type of man who takes charge. Who changes the energy of the room just from being in it.
And that’s Cameron. He’s not like any other man I’ve met before and I’m already crushing hard on him.
God, his arms are unreal. I stare at the tattooed muscles as they ripple and move when he reaches into his flatbed and pulls out a pair of dirty old jeans.
“They’re not the nicest,” he says as he shakes them out. A cloud of dust explodes out of them and he laughs. “But they hide what they need to hide.”
Disappointment is filling every inch of me as he slides them on and zips them up. I’m wondering if I’ll ever see that thick veined rod again as he walks around the truck to my side.
“How do I look?” he asks with his arms out.
Fucking delicious…
He’s still shirtless and barefoot, but it’s still not enough skin for me. I drag my eyes down his hard ridged stomach to the carved V sticking out of his jeans. He has no belt, so they’re hanging low on his hips with his hard pelvis in full view and the top of his pubic hair showing. A treasure trail is creeping up to his navel and my mouth waters when I picture coating all of that area with my tongue.
“You look a… presentable,” I mutter. That’s the understatement of the decade.
“Good,” he says as he takes my hand. “Let’s go inside.”
My heart is hammering in my chest with the feel of his strong hand swallowing mine. He’s so big. Everything about him.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel tiny with all of my curves, but Cameron makes me feel that way. I barely come up to his bearded chin and his body dwarfs mine even though I’m usually one of the bigger girls in a room.
I keep stealing glances at his obliques, his pecs, his nipples, his arms, at everything. I just want to freeze time, pour a glass of red wine, and then shamelessly admire him for a couple of hours.
Didn’t I hear somewhere that shifters love curvy girls? My mind begins to race, wondering if that’s true.
A guy stares shamelessly at me as he exits the shop while we’re walking to the entrance. I just roll my eyes and ignore him, but Cameron doesn’t.
I feel his body tighten. His muscles flex beside me as a low rumbling growl seems to be emanating from his chest. Is that his bear?
I look up at his face and gulp. He looks furious.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he snarls as he wraps a possessive arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his hard body.
The guy drops his eyes to the pavement and wisely runs to his truck.
I laugh as he accelerates over the sidewalk and onto the street with his tires squealing.
“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” he mutters as he holds me even tighter. I let him hold me close. He smells too good to fight it.
I just smile. I love the territorial way about him. It’s so primal. It’s so possessive. It’s like walking around with a caveman who thinks he owns me.
Normally, I’m a proud feminist, but this is hitting something deep in me that I didn’t know existed.
It feels good to have the strongest man on the block watching out for me.
It’s like he saved me and that allows him to claim me for his own. The weird thing is, I don’t have a problem with that. At all.
We head into the store and I look around as Cameron speaks with the owner. It’s all farm equipment, seeds, cattle feed, stuff like that.
I notice that Cameron’s body gets all tight when I wander too far away, so I stay near him. I don’t mind. My body feels better when I’m close to him. I get a little twitchy myself when I get too far. I guess my crush is stronger than I had thought.
“I’m low on feed because of the drought,” the owner tells him. “I’ll sell you what I have and order the rest for you. It will be delivered as soon as it’s available.”
I play with my hair as I listen with worry. I wish I could do something to help.
“It might rain later this afternoon if we’re lucky,” the owner tells Cameron. “There’s a storm passing through, but it’s fifty-fifty that it’s going to hit us or not.”
“That would be great,” Cameron mutters and I say a little prayer to the rain gods to help him out.