A Wolf of Wall Street (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance)

BOOK: A Wolf of Wall Street (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance)

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental

A Wolf of Wall Street copyright @ 2013 by Joanna Wilson.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.


A Wolf of Wall Street


slowly crawled out of my sleeping bag, my nose wrinkling. After a month of occupying Wall Street, the smell of Zuccotti Park was starting to get to me. The aroma of coffee flooded my senses as a white paper cup was thrust in front of my face.


“Thank you Carly, you’re a god send.” I smiled gratefully.


“No problem, babe.” My best friend Carly replied brightly “C’mon!”


Dragging me by my wrist, Carly led me through the crowds to the police barricades. Hot coffee splattered against my wrist as we moved. “Slow down, woman.” I said. “I want to
my coffee, not wear it.”


Without slowing, Carly replied “We need to hurry if we want to get good spots. Big Baddie waits for no one!” She finished with a flourish of her hands.


Big Baddie was their nickname for Justin Blakenship, the banker everyone believed was singlehandedly responsible for the collapse of the US economy. At precisely 7:30am every morning, including weekends, he could be seen walking down the streets to his office and the protesters didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to harass him.


I released a little sigh as they finally came to a halt at the front of the barricade, taking my first sip of coffee of the day. Yes, I definitely needed that. I knew the moment he arrived in his town car. My body was humming like a tuning fork. His driver opened the door for him and his huge frame unfolded from the back seat. My eyes were drawn to the way his ass clenched as he came to his full six foot something height and started walking into the building. A familiar warmth pooled in my lower abdomen.


“Bad Marie.”
I scolded myself “
No getting turned on by the asshole with no morals. You know better than that.”


As if he heard me, he looked over his shoulder directly into my stormy gray eyes. I was jolted by the bolt of arousal as his attention focused on me. I was frozen like a frightened animal until he broke eye contact and entered the building.


“Say what you want about him but that is one fine ass.” Carly fanned her face. I couldn’t help but stare in disbelief.


“Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow at Carly even as my own face flushed. "Just last week you said that man was the fucking devil who has no qualms about ruining other people’s lives and careers to get the top.”


Carly shrugged. “Doesn’t mean he’s not smoking hot.”


I turned back towards the office doors, gripping my lucky pendant. It felt like it was burning red hot when he had me in his gaze and the gold was still warm to the touch. My fingertips traced the engraved letters.


Carly nudged my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You should get going if you want to make it to class on time.”


“Yeah, I’ll see you later today for the protest.”



As I boarded the M5 to get to the New York Academy of Art I reflected back on my time protesting with Occupy Wall Street. When Carly first recruited me to make signs for them, I thought they were a little crazy to think they could change the world. What started as a grassroots movement seems to now be on the path of a worldwide movement and I couldn’t help but feel a little proud that I was one of the many who contributed to the movement.


greeted my fellow MFAs when I entered the studio space and when I opened my sketchbook, I was faced with my latest subject, Mr. Blakenship. My desire to sketch and paint the man was now bordering on an obsession. His planar facial features and defined lines would make any worthy artist drool. As it was, my mouth watered as I imagined getting an up close and personal view of his body. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“Focus woman.”


I started my sketch, defining his features through shadowing. In my latest rendition of the man, his lines were blurred, almost as if he was an apparition. It gave him some mystery. I snorted. Like he needs more mystery.


I was so focused on my drawing that I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder. I looked up to find one of the faculty members frowning at the paper in front of me.


“You’re being a little heavy handed with the charcoal don’t you think? I can barely make out any features of your subject. It’s no longer shadowed, its black.”


I pursed my lips to prevent from snapping at her. When she walked away I sunk down in my chair, resting my chin in my right hand. “
Stupid judgmental bitch.”
I thought resentfully as I racked my brain for another idea. I drew him again, this time from the back. He was half naked and his face was turned to the side, displaying his impressive profile. The lines were still blurred but she felt the need to add details to the drawing. In the horizon I drew three dark shapes, obscured by the shadows of a honey locust tree, their forms almost flitting in and out of the dark.


It brought back memories of the night I was attacked less than a month ago. I was cornered in the park by some thugs who felt the need to harass me about the occupy movement.



“Hey you’re one of those
Occupy bitches.”


I ignored him, tightening my grip on the shopping bag in my right hand, prepared to swing it at his head if he came near. I was brought up short as one of his buddies came in from my left.


“Here’s a tip you fat bitch, if you don’t want to live in poverty, why don’t you get a fucking job!” I fell sideways, hitting my knees hard as he pushed my shoulder. I came up swinging my bag hard at his head, knocking him face first to the cement. I turned to run for it when I was picked up from behind. I kicked my legs out, trying to connect to my assailant but he avoided my strikes. I took a huge inhale, prepared to scream when a fist connected with my side, knocking the wind out of me. I gasped for breath as a hand gripped the hair at the back of my head and pulled my gaze to his.


“You’re going to pay for that you fucking bitch.”


Panic engulfed my system and I wanted to scream but all I could manage was a whispered “No”


His grip switched to my throat as he squeezed, making even harder to breathe. He looked over his shoulder at his buddy on the ground. “You ok man?”


Thug Two swiped at the corner of his mouth and muttered “Fucking whore.” He stood up and backhanded me with a loud crack. With Thug #1’s grip on my throat, I felt like Linda Blair, my head spun so fast.


Bile rose in my throat as Thug Three shifted his hold around my body so he could clumsily grope my breasts. “You know I’d be willing to pay her for the use of her body.” His other hand gripped my crotch painfully “How does five bucks sound?”


His buddies laughed loudly as I fought the urge to puke, my stomach churning at the prospect of what was to come. Blood dripped into my eye from the laceration in my eyebrow and I tasted blood from when I bit my tongue. I stilled in his arms, not wanting to show my fear. I thought quickly, trying to find a way out of this situation.


“Yeah bitch, we’d be happy to give you money, but you’re gonna have to work for it. Get her on her knees, I want her to suck my dick.”


I bit back a groan of pain as I was roughly shoved to my knees again. With the lower position, I regained control of my arms and took the opportunity to wipe the blood from my eyes, glaring at the man in front of me. He grinned down at me as he pulled at his belt and fly. “Open wide slut and I better not feel any teeth.”


“Fuck you.” I spat.


“Now is that anyway to talk to a paying customer?”


I clenched my jaw in defiance.


“The hard way then?” His hands clamped my head, thrusting his thumbs into the sides of my jaw and causing me to open my mouth in order to avoid the pain of the pressure point.


A blurred figure flew out of the shadows and tackled him to the ground. I turned onto my hands and knees, prepared to crawl my way to safety as my assailants were distracted by my unknown saviour. I only made it a couple of feet when a body landed on my back, knocking my limbs out from under me. My vision dimmed as I struggled for a breath. Moments later the weight was lifted off of me with a growl but I no longer had any energy or desire to move. I laid there motionless on my stomach, panting for breath as I watched blurred shapes move to and fro in the shadows, waiting for the victor to claim his prize, me. I must have passed out because when I opened my eyes again, I was alone. Apart from the dark stains on the sidewalk, there was no sign of anyone else. It’s like they all disappeared.


I lifted my arm to brush the dried blood out of my eyes, groaning at the amount of effort it took to move. I slowly got to my feet, doing an inventory of my injuries. Mostly bumps and bruises, but I’m pretty sure I would need stitches for my eyebrow and I really hoped my ribs were not broken. I groaned again at the idea of spending the night in the emergency department. Noticing the contents of my shopping bag all over the sidewalk, I moved gingerly to collect my groceries and art supplies I bought for the other occupy members. Next to the spilt milk I found a necklace with a thick chain and a golden pendant. I traced the letters engraved on the pendant and was mesmerized by the shine of the metal. Without thought, I slipped the chain over my head and under my jacket. I jerked up at the howl of a dog, wincing as it pulled at my side.


The ten minute trek to the protest camp felt like hours as my muscles started to tighten up and as I started to go into shock.


“Oh my god Marie! What happened?” Carly cried as she rushed up and took my swollen face in her hands.


“Men. Attack. Hurt.” I gasped.


I lost track of time as I was rushed to the hospital. I remember the cops coming in to ask me questions but I remember neither the questions nor my answers. For some odd reason the feel of the necklace around my neck and the weight of the pendant at my throat gave me comfort. When they had to take off my necklace to inspect and document the bruises on my neck, I held onto the pendant so hard in my palm that it left an indent for hours afterwards.


Pulled back into the present by the sounds of my classmates packing up their things to go to lunch, I followed their lead absently. I was still pissed off that they haven’t found my attackers but there’s not much I could do about it. After a quick sandwich, I returned to the academy, choosing to finish my sketch. Carly was right. He was a good looking man despite being the big bad wolf, looking to eat you alive. I spent an extraordinary amount of time outlining the muscles in his back. Of course, never having seen the man naked, this contouring was all in my mind but
imaginary Justin was a fine looking specimen.


Looking at my watch, I jolted to awareness as I realized I was running late. The protest was at 3 and it was already 2:45! I hurriedly collected my art supplies and shoved them into my bag. I ran to the subway station, missing the 1 by seconds. I waited anxiously for the next train and ran off the train. As I turned the corner onto Broadway, I ran headlong into a rock hard wall. Hands grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a chest before my butt hit the ground.


“Whoa there. You ok?


I nodded “Yeah thanks I …oh” I finished lamely as I finally got at who held me. Justin Blankenship. “You can let go.” I said as I made futile attempts to pull out of his grasp. He only tightened his grip.


“You’re the one who ran into me. I think an apology is in order.”


My jaw dropped “Are you freaking kidding me? I’m not going to apologize. Let. Me. Go!” I jerked harder away from him, trying to break away. My struggles brought the attention of one of the local cops. “Is there a problem here?”


We replied simultaneously. I said “Yes" and he grinned “Not at all.”


The cop took one look at me in my ratty jeans and patchwork jacket and Justin in his expensive suit and nodded. “Ok, you have a nice day Mr. Blakenship.” I stared aghast at his back as walked away. “No fucking way.” I mouthed in disbelief. My head jerked back to Justin as his thumbs stroked the underside of my wrists, grabbing my attention and causing an uncontrollable heat to travel through my body, starting from my wrists. I tried to pull my hands back again but he still wouldn’t let go.


I tugged again, more urgently than before. “I need to go.”

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