The BBW and the Beast: A Shifter Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (A BBW Shifter Fairy Tale Retelling Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

of her plans evaporating in the face of this new and improved Mr. West. “I didn’t even know you knew that word.”
    Annoyance cracked his pleasant façade, but only for a second. “Of course I know your name.” There was no ignoring the sensual lilt with which he inflected her name.
    “No,” Bel said, trying to keep up her sour annoyance. “I mean ‘please’.”
    “I’m not used to begging. Most people obey the first time I ask them to do something.” His eyes flashed.
    Bel put her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “If you’re calling me by my first name, then I think I should be able to call you by yours.” She tensed, waiting for him to explode again.
    To her surprise, he gave her a smile with too many teeth and glimmering hungry eyes. “It’s Samson. Now sit down. Unless you’d like to eat standing up.”
    “Samson?” Bel sat. “Were your parents pioneers on the Oregon Trail?” She meant her reply to be insulting, but it ended up sounding more like a joke. Her palms felt damp with nervous sweat.
    Samson pushed her chair in, the edges of his knuckles grazing the back of her neck, right below her hairline. She hadn’t taken her hair out of its ponytail, and for a second, she swore his fingers were flirting with her hair tie as if to remove it. But when she twisted to look over her shoulder, he was gone.
    “My parents were traditional,” he said, somehow already at the other side of the table. His expression was as unreadable as an ancient rune.
    Bel tapped her glasses, and they slid back up her nose. “Or you’re part of a secret Amish cult. Hiding away in the woods. Breeding expensive plants as part of your mission to take over the world.”
    Samson began to chuckle.
    The low, resonant sound filled Bel’s chest with warmth and made her smile. She relaxed back into her chair. “You know, I used to be a counselor around here. At Camp Kikanoo. An investor brought it before you moved here, so you never saw it. But it used to be awesome. Did you ever go to camp?”
    “I don’t like group activities,” he said. The final echo of his laughter faded, and now his expression was curiously intent. Bel had to battle down a blush. Just as she was about to broach the subject of her employment, he asked, almost too smoothly, “You must have seen this house while you were here. What did you think?”
    “You have no idea.” There was no fighting the blush now. Her whole face felt as crimson as the tablecloth covering the cherry-wood table.
    “Tell me.” A writhing darkness underscored Samson’s words.
    Bel stopped breathing.
    He rolled his shoulders. Smiled. No; he formed that expression that was supposed to be a smile but wasn’t quite. “Please.”
    “We were terrified of this house,” Bel admitted finally, staring at the fringe of the tablecloth, resisting the urge to fidget.
    “We?”
    She breathed a sigh of relief. It was easier to talk about her experience at the house in the context of a group. Anything to make it less personal. “Cynthia, Red, and I. Cynthia, that was the girl who’s a professional organizer now. I don’t know what Red’s doing.”
    Bel closed her eyes, remembering how in their second-to-last year, Red had stolen a crossbow from the archery range. She’d shot arrows into the trees, bearing messages like, ‘If you don’t clean your cabin, you’re next.‘. Thinking of Red gave her the courage to continue.
    “In our final year, we decided we’d check out the house, but they chickened out, and the owner caught me after I lost my glasses. He sort of came on to me, too, but I was only eighteen, so I think most of it went over my head. Thankfully, Red and Cynthia rescued me before it got too weird. Red even shot an arrow through one of the panes of the greenhouse. I felt bad about that later…”
    She trailed off, realizing that she had been dominating the conversation, spilling her guts to an asshole. She didn’t even have the excuse of alcohol. After the