Free Alpha Howl (A BBW Shifter Werewolf MC Romance) (Sons of Thunder MC: Book 2) by Deva Long

one
     
    The main road through Sarasota is called the Tamiami Trail. The name sounds exotic. Native American. Seminole. However, the name just means “the path from Tampa to Miami”. Once the exotic name is demystified, the road is just another crowded stretch of blacktop, with stoplights, strip malls and the occasional convertible with a thousand watt sound system. Though driving the trail you’re more likely hear Kenney Chesney’s twang than Nikki’s thump.
    Between the two bridges to Sleepy Key is a strip mall with cool little ethnic restaurants, medical spas for hair, lips and maybe boobs, and one former barbershop with folding chairs, chalkboards, and a hundred or so craft beers from near and far.
    Next to Mr. Beery’s sits Sari’s Silver Hand’s Yoga and Massage. I’ve been going to her for several years, ever since stumbling in after a few too many high alcohol content beers.
    Sari and I shared a good rapport. She is about thirty years old, with dark skin, Asian features and a curvy, roundish body. She possessed a generous smile and when she walked, the cheeks of her posterior moved independently up and down, but she was always graceful. I guess I was half in love with her, even though we had never gone farther than some very close sessions where she helped me reach the poses by holding me and the one massage session where she made me orgasm just by touching my back and feet. I kept that secret from her. Sari ’ s door made a musical sound as the brass bells rocked when I opened it for my usual morning session. If eleven o’clock is still morning. I like to sleep late when I don’t have to get up for work.
    “He sounds like a wild one.”
    I couldn’t help but bring up my night with Karl. She’d already seen the story in the paper.
    “Well, he seemed civilized, but very controlling. An Alpha.”
    Stretching, I grabbed my toes.
    “I’ll probably never see him again.”
    I breathed, working to relax and process my feelings.
    With a couple Vicodin left over from my wisdom teeth, I went to bed early the previous night. I had been pushing thoughts and feelings about Karl away all morning.
    I wasn’t good at hurting people, at rejecting them.
    I didn’t put myself into a position to make a choice very often. I don’t like turning people down, so usually I just avoid the whole issue by saying I’m into being friends.
    Sari draped her front window with tapestries depicting naked Indian gods and goddesses, bathing the studio with a gentle, muted radiance. But, the white walls reflected enough light to reveal the lines on Sari’s face as she broke into my silent thoughts.
    “An Alpha. Where did you hear that term?”
    “I don’t know.” Did Karl say it? Or did I pick the word up from my reading?
    “Interesting. Grace, I will put on my prophet’s hat. This man will change your life.”
    She spread her knees and touched the dark veined oak floor with her head. Next to her, I tried to follow her move.
    “In a good way or a bad way?”
    She looked at me sideways.
    “I don’t see a clear line of good or bad with this one. I see change. Opportunity.”
    Maybe all the magic hasn’t gone away. Sari had a special ability to give me sensible advice. It seemed as if she could see more than I told her. She’d been right before, telling me the last guy I actually wanted to like me back, Hendrik, was bad news.
    “An addictive personality,” she opined, though I hadn’t told her many details.
    She’d been right, Hendrik stole my iPhone and traded it for drugs.
    The tapestries and woodcuts on her wall reduced the noise from the outside to a dull roar I could imagine was the sea except for the occasional Harley’s wall shaking howl. A sitar played in the background.
    “Right, the Chinese crisis character.”
    “The meaning of the Chinese character weiji is not opportunity, that’s a mistranslation. In fact, the symbol stands for ‘dangerous precipice’.”
    “So, are you saying Karl’s