Free Submission to the Wolf (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Alpha Male Erotic Romance) by Billie Kasper

 
    Wisdom
     
    What was there to say about Wisdom? I could tell you about the first time he walked into my parents’ little roadside diner, covered in filth and asking to break a five. Or how about when he chased me through the woods, hunting me, just like I wanted to be hunted? Or what happened after that?
     
    I guess I should introduce myself first. My name is Kelly. I’m nineteen. I live with my parents in a little town in Vermont you’ve never heard of. I’ve worked at the diner my parents run ever since I was thirteen and I’ll probably work there until the day I die. At least, that’s what I always thought—until Wisdom came along.
     
    I’m what you might call a bigger girl. I’m not fat, mind you. At least I don’t think so—there are definitely some assholes in high school who called me that. But I think I’m pretty good looking. I’ve got nice curves and a nice butt and nice boobs—it catches the attention of all the boys, I’ve noticed.
     
    I see there looks when I’m working behind the counter, trying to sneak a look down the front of my shirt. I blush and pretend I don’t see them but I see them.
     
    Oh, I see them all right.
     
    I’ve got curly red hair and bright blue eyes and freckles. My mom always used to say that I had the map of Ireland on my face, which I guess means that I look really Irish? Which I guess is a good thing? At least, I hope it is.
     
    That’s how I met Wisdom. It was late one night and I could see the lights of a car pulling up outside. We’d be closing in about five minutes so I wasn’t looking forward to telling whoever this was that I wouldn’t be able to do much for him, besides make a milk shake or get him a cup of coffee.
     
    The doors to the diner flung open and in strode the man I’d come to know as… Wisdom. He was tall and well-built, a miniature mountain of muscle encased in leather and chains. He was your classic bad boy. I’ve always liked bad boys. I’ve always wanted a bad boy. Never got one.
     
    In fact, I’d never gotten… Anyone. I was a virgin. And ashamed about it. My friends had all lost their virginities (some of them in multiple places, if you know what I mean…) and the ones who went off to college would come home with stories of sexy young college men, who were as smart as they were attractive and strong.
     
    It was enough to make a country girl like me swoon. The closest I’d ever gotten to that was my best friend’s older brother, Ryan—he always used to tease me growing up and oh, god, how I fantasized about losing my virginity to him.
     
    I always hoped he would make a move and though we came close—he would sometimes drive me to work and pick me up on the way home and there would be definite sexual tension between the two of us as we sat there in the car, the tension threatening to boil over into a passionate eruption—we never crossed that final line.
     
    I even remembered one time when we hugged after he dropped me off—I forget where or why—and he let his hands fall to my full bottom. I had gasped, melting into his arms and we were moments away from a kiss when someone—I have no idea who, though whoever it was, I considered them my mortal enemy afterwards—called Ryan’s name and he dropped his hands away, letting me fall away from him.
     
    We never slept together and I still regretted not taking the initiative there. He had gone off to college on a scholarship while I hung around, bored as all get out in Greencliff, Vermont.
     
    And wouldn’t you know it… This young man looked exactly like Ryan.
     
    “Hi there, stranger,” I said, trying to be as sweet as possible since I’d be telling the poor boy to get out in a minute. “Just so you know, we’re closing in five minutes.”
     
    The young man eyed me warily. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled five-dollar bill.
     
    “Then just give me change for a five.” He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in about a week and his hair was