His curvy Luna

3

Chapter 3

___ Ava's POV___

I'm relieved it's my half-day today. I need to escape from these nosy people. Some of my colleagues, whom I consider friends, seem eager to corner me the moment I'm free to chat. I can sense their watchful eyes on us the whole time. When I catch their gaze, curiosity is etched all over their faces, and their lips curl into smirks, accompanied by a thousand questions in their eyes. Why, in particular, I'm not sure. I doubt I can answer their queries because I have a thousand questions of my own and no answers. Why does being around him feel so... so right?

Just thinking about the wrath Genevieve will unleash on me. I noticed her interest when she looked at him and claimed him as her client. I know she doesn't want me anywhere near him. but the way he dismissed her without a second glance will surely infuriate her, and she's bound to give me a hard time about it. At least I know her bark is worse than her bite. She gets huffy and puffy but doesn't get the reaction she desires because I refuse to engage when she wants to bicker. Usually, she puts on a show in front of her clients, pretending to desperately need help with their service, trying to make me look bad if I refuse to assist. More often than not, those situations work out in my favor in the long run.

As I collapse onto my bed after getting home, I can't help but think about him. My kitty purrs and drips like a percolator, and my tummy flutters strangely every time I touch him. The Goosebumps that run up my arms from where we were connected, as if he's emitting electricity. While washing his hair at the basin, I didn't miss the hitch in his breathing when I massaged him. Oh, how I wish I could have moved my hands lower, exploring those muscular arms and washboard abs. Just the thought of it makes my kitty purr again.

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___ Benjamin's POV___

I stand in an ice-cold shower, running it only over my bottom half in an attempt to find relief from the raging hard-on I have. I don't want to wash away the traces of her scent left on me when she cut and styled my hair. However, the cold water seems ineffective as images of her flood my mind. I take matters into my own hands, and as I stroke, I conjure images of her—her curvy body, her pure, makeup-free face, her rosy cheeks that lit up every time our eyes met, and those plump, rose-pink lips I long to taste. "Argh!"

The more I visualize, the more aggressively I stroke. After a few minutes, I'm roaring her name as streams of c*m hit the shower wall. I pant heavily from the intensity, realizing this was only fantasizing about her. The thought of being with her in reality is overwhelming. No, no, I need to halt this train of thought, or I'll be in this shower indefinitely.

The next morning, my family and some pack members gather around the dining room table at the pack house for breakfast. We're not the largest pack, but we're far from small, ranking among the wealthiest and strongest. I need to corner Brittney to gather more information about Ava, to understand her background and her situation with that conniving bottle blonde. I can't risk my darling's safety because women, especially the fake ones, can be vicious and vindictive if they feel wronged.

"Brittney! You need to tell me everything about Ava," I demand as soon as she enters the dining room and takes a seat.

"Well, hello to you too, big brother," she replies sarcastically. I'm in no mood for pleasantries. "Talk!" I bark at her.

"Oh. What crawled up your ass?" she retorts.

My patience wears thin, and I growl at her disrespect. She raises her hands in surrender. "Sorry, Alpha," she says, sensing my mood. "Talk!"

"Okay, okay. She moved here about a year and a bit ago. She has a bit of a sad story. She's only 35 but has faced many hardships," Brittney shares.

My heart aches at the thought of my darling enduring such hardships. It's unacceptable, and I'm determined to make things right for her as soon as possible. My train of thought is interrupted when Brittney continues, "I can see those wheels turning in that smart head of yours, big brother. But listen to me first. Ava is no charity case. That girl is incredibly strong. She's overcome almost everything life has thrown at her."

Seeing my reaction, Brittney adds, "Well, it's not my story to tell. Why don't you go ask her yourself since you seem so eager to know everything about her?"

She smirks at me and continues, "By the way, big brother, why are you so interested in my hairdresser?"

Before I can respond, she waves her hand dismissively and says, "Never mind. I don't think I want to know. But in a nutshell, she moved here from overseas, lost both of her parents not long after each other, and had to recover from their divorce when she was younger. She has a misfit for a brother, or more accurately, I'd say a leech. And she's been taken advantage of by that woman at work. Yet, she remains positive, sees the good in every situation, and treats everyone with love and respect."

My wolf urges me to go and find our mate. My anger flares up as I ask, "Is it that bottle blonde bimbo she works with as a hairdresser?"

Brittney confirms, "Oh, I see you've had the pleasure of meeting Genevieve. Yes, I'm referring to her."

Growling, I stand up, facing my sister, and demand, "What does she do to Ava? Why hasn't anyone done something about it? How long has this been going on? Never mind, I'm going to get my her!"

Brittney jumps up and rushes in front of me, raising her hands to stop me. Both my wolf and I snarl at her. She flinches but holds her ground. "Benjamin, please, listen to me. Ava is okay. Yes, Genevieve uses her, but Ava retains most of the clients she helps and is essentially stealing Genevieve's clients. Once a client switches to Ava, they refuse to let Genevieve touch them. If she tries to force it, they tell the owner they'd rather leave the salon than have Genevieve touch them again. That's how I became one of Ava's clients; I used to be one of Genevieve's."

I'm still seething, but my fury subsides slightly. I take deep breaths in an attempt to calm my wolf and myself. Last night, I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about Ava and indulging in all kinds of erotic fantasies, leaving me utterly exhausted this morning, which doesn't help matters.