The Alpha’s Curvy Match
The Sheikh was used to having everything his way. His associates were rich, and his women were thin and easy. He was the gorgeously built heir of royalty. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t get what he wanted.
Jenny, on the other hand, lived in the real world. She was curvy, quick-witted and struggling to pay for college. She thought it would be a fun escape to go with her roommate to a Sheikh’s party... but she had never met the Sheikh.
When they met, the sparks flew immediately. The Sheikh had mistaken Jenny for one of his airheads and Jenny had to give him a quick introduction to what a real woman is like. He didn’t like that so much.
Their time together would have been brief if it wasn’t for one thing; the Sheikh was a wolf shifter, and as a wolf, he had scratched Jenny. That presented a problem for the Sheikh. In order to keep his secret, his royal family made his victims “disappear”. The Sheikh didn’t like Jenny, but he didn’t want that.
So coming up with a compromise, he decides to watch Jenny to see if his scratch would turn her into a wolf. And offering her a high paying job that she can’t refuse, he keeps her close enough to figure out if the virginal Jenny would have to die.
Will Jenny turn into a wolf on the next full moon? Will the Sheikh let her die if she does? And will the two stop fighting with each other long enough to realize that they might be each other’s perfect match? The clock is ticking for them to find out.
Do you know what I love about America? Summer time on a Saturday at about 8 o'clock at night. It's then when everyone is in their cars trying to scurry off to some club or bar and Highway 10 is jam packed. It's then that the orange lights from the buildings contrast with the pale yellow of headlights and the blinking red lights on the back of the cars. You will probably never get the chance to see it from my perspective. But from the penthouse in a 20 story building in Westwood, there is nothing better. And as I stand on the balcony balls deep in some wannabe actress admiring it all, I think about how lucky I am to be here.
Americans just don't know how good they have it. When I grew up I went to an all-boys school in puritan London. Do you know how much that stifles a young man's curiosity? There is something about the presence of girls in a boy's life that just makes childhood worthwhile. And as I was hitting my shower jacking off endlessly to the thought of half decent nuns, American boys were getting blow jobs by girls named Britney. God bless America. That's what I say.
I almost didn't end up here. In fact if I had my choice I wouldn't be. But fate, ah fate. It's a mean, mean bitch. But I guess it does have its soft side.
I am, for all intent and purposes, a Sheikh. Yes, I'm Arab, as uncool as that is to say. But I make it work. Back in my heyday I was that obnoxious guy driving a Lamborghini to a club in Dubai. I was the one who bought the entire club a drink and then waited for the women the flock to me. I like to think of myself as a humanitarian. Because after all, if I deflowered every Arab virgin, who would be left for those crazy fanatics in the afterlife? You're welcome.
