Curve Effect (A BBW Box Set of Contemporary, Science Fiction and Paranormal Romances) (45 page)

“She broke up with me the next day…told me a week later that she’d had an abortion.” He saw a little shudder pass over Bryce and she blinked once, slowly.

“But how do you know your mother would stoop so low?” Bryce asked.

“Mother bragged about it.” His voice roughened. “How it had taken her a hundred thousand to prove Rochelle was just white trash, but that it had been worth every penny.”

Bryce still cupped his face and he placed his hand over hers before continuing. “I was living in the L.A. compound when she told me. That was mid-December.”

And right before he moved into Bryce’s apartment building. He watched her expression, worried she’d think that he’d chosen her as a safe rebound. Hell, she was anything but safe. She owned him right now and didn’t even realize it. When her gaze only grew warmer, softer, he relaxed. Turning his head, he kissed her palm just as Victor and the waiter approached.

The waiter carried two bowls of
Sopa di Ostiones.
The smell of oysters fried in wine and floating in a mix of tomato, garlic, potatoes and carrots, reached him before the two men did. Bryce retreated to her side of the table, her expression a little nervous.

“Bryce has confessed,
Padrino
,” Walt teased, “that
real
food is virtually unknown to her.”

Bryce blushed and looked caught somewhere between relieved and embarrassed. “It’s just that, if it didn’t come from a can or a box, my mother didn’t serve it and I kind of carried along with it. But this does smell delicious.”

Victor rested his hand on Bryce’s shoulder, leaning close to her. “For you, my dear, I will make whatever you want. I will send Filo out to find something in a can…but I think, once you taste my oyster soup, you will want to make it for your mother. Show her how it’s done, no?”

Bryce smiled, but Walt detected a wince beneath it. Sensing she had an even worse relationship with her parents than he had with his mother, Walt wanted to touch her, comfort her in whatever way she would let him. Instead, he watched her dip her soup spoon into the bowl. Whatever timidity she must have felt, she suppressed it and scooped up one of the larger pieces of oyster.

Victor watched with one hand to his mouth, and Walt guessed his godfather fought the urge to chew his nails until Bryce pronounced the dish a success or failure. She finished her spoonful. This time there was no wince hiding behind the relieved smile.

“This is good,” she said, looking up at Victor.

The old man grinned and wagged an indulgent finger at her. “Wait until you taste the calamari steaks!”

Bryce’s grin didn’t falter, but the instant Victor was out of earshot, she glanced at Walt. “That’s…uh…squid, right?”

Watching Bryce’s entire face pucker when she said “squid”, Walt chuckled. “Yes, but it’s just as good—his special brandy sauce is famous in three countries.”

She gathered another spoonful of soup, hesitating before she took it into her mouth. “Your godfather, right?”

Walt nodded.

“And you adore him?”

Another nod. Damn, she was cute like this, her pointed question more blatant than she probably realized. “You’ll love it,” he promised. “
Padrino
or not.”

Chapter Sixteen

Walt hesitated, his house keys out but frozen an inch from the deadbolt. “She could still be inside,” he cautioned.

Bryce lightly scratched her chin as she thought it over. “If she is, she’s likely to bite,” Bryce joked. “So, you take her wrists and I’ll take her ankles.”

She could see the tension that had built during the drive back begin to ease from him. He arched one fine black brow at her—the one with the little scar.

“Just how nefarious is your plan?”

“Oh…I thought we’d just sit her on her butt in the middle of the parking lot,” Bryce answered. “My aunt used to drag my cousin out into the middle of the front yard when he’d throw a tantrum—said it was too good a show for the neighbors to miss.”

“So there’s more than just the maiden aunt in your family tree?”

His tone was teasing but his gaze drilled into her. He had tried once or twice this weekend to get her to talk about her family despite being silent on his. Now that he had opened up, was he expecting her to do the same?

“Why don’t we see what we have to deal with inside before you quiz me on my family?” She followed the suggestion with a smile, though the idea of explaining how and why she broke all contact with her family when she turned eighteen clawed a hole in the lining of her stomach.

“Good point.” Adopting a mock S.W.A.T. stance, he asked, “Do you want to go in high, or low?”

“High.” No way was she crouching in a skirt.

“Well, I don’t know about that, you could take it in the chest.”

“I’d rather take it in the bedroom,” she shot back. “Plus, she’s short—you’re more likely to take it in the head going in low.”

“Another good point.” This time he scratched his chin. “Maybe we should go to your place instead.”

Not unless Erato had popped in with a cleaning crew of pixies since the last time. “I’m pretty sure your mother is gone by now, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Probably, but I’ve never actually been inside your place.”

Bryce took the keys from Walt and unlocked the deadbolt and doorknob. “It’s a typical grad student mess, I promise.”

“And next week?” He still hesitated on his doorstep.

“The official student handbook says I don’t have to clean until the degree is in hand—particularly since I’ll be looking for a full-time job.” Bryce opened the door since he obviously wasn’t going to do it.

Stepping inside, the apartment seemed blissfully Artemesia free. Bryce crossed to the kitchen, peeking in cupboards and drawers. “Nope, not here.” She went to the bedroom and opened the door.

“Uhm…did you make your bed after we…uhm…well, you know?” she asked. Walt didn’t answer and she looked at him. He still stood just inside the front door. “Scaredy cat,” she hissed. “Did you make up your bed?”

He shook his head.

“Ewww.” She shuddered and the teal georgette sleeves of her dress fluttered in a ripple from her shoulders to wrists. “That’s just not right.”

“She’s…erasing…you.” His lips were pressed tight, the upper one all but invisible. His jet black hair had fallen around his face. With the broad, flat length of his nose and darkened green gaze, he looked like a panther.

Like a panther protecting his mate, Bryce thought. A deep thrill worked its way to the surface of her skin and spread out in a wave of goosebumps. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe, half hidden.

“Then let’s un-erase me,” she challenged and slowly disappeared from view.

As she moved to sit at the foot of the bed, she could hear his approach. Unrushed. Determined. She heard him unbuckle his belt and the sliding “fwip” as he pulled it through the belt loops. The sound was forceful—dangerous from the tension that held him. There was an ecstatic contraction of cunt and nipples, and she moaned the second before he turned the corner and came into view.

The belt was coiled in on itself, and he moved to place it on his dresser. Something must have shown in her hazel gaze because he turned back to her and tossed the belt onto the bed. Bryce licked her lips. When he closed his eyes and mirrored her action, she shivered. Then he opened his eyes and she was sure he could see through her clothing to the hard nipples and wet pussy.

“Take your top off.” He held his arms stiff and she could see his tension in the way he clenched and unclenched his hands.

Bryce grabbed the sequined hem and stripped the top away, slowly at first, and then all at once at the sound of his impatient growl. Walt leaned over, almost against Bryce but not touching her as he reached for the belt.

“Hands out, wrists together.”

She obeyed, trembling with the need to touch him but waiting for his command to do so. Her readiness surprised her. She’d seen bondage photos before, read a story or two. They’d all left her dry. But now she was drenched with the need to have him dominate her.

Walt looped the belt tightly around her wrists and then firmly stuck a finger between her lips. She opened her mouth when he pushed down, and he stuck part of the belt strap between her teeth so that she effectively was tethered to herself. He slipped out of his shoes and stripped his pants and briefs away. Cock jutting forward, he stepped between her legs and pushed her skirt up high enough that she could spread her legs. Lightly running his fingertip along the back of one of her bound hands, he gave her permission to touch him.

Bryce wrapped her hands around his thick shaft. She began stroking him, her whole body pitched forward with need. He grabbed her head, tilting it back until she looked into his olive green gaze. The strap was tight against her chin and she had to strain to keep her hands around his cock. With his fingers still playing in her bound hair, he took the pins out singly and tossed them on the dresser behind him. She could feel her hair falling feather light around her shoulders. Walt kept one hand knotted in her soft tresses, dropping the other to knead her breasts. He simultaneously explored her nipple and tolerance with pinches that grew harder and longer, while her soft groans begged for more.

He pushed her hands away and forced her to stand, the belt strap still in her mouth. Her forearms grazed her over-stimulated nipples, making it hard for her to stand still. Seeing the source of her distress, he only teased them to harder points. Letting go of her hair, he dropped his head and rapidly flicked the swollen buds with his tongue before he swept each one into his mouth in turn. She squirmed and he moved both hands to her hips. Increasing the pressure of his tongue and lips on her breast, he drew her tighter to him and closer to the edge of orgasm. Her whole body trembled beneath the rough pleasure of his mouth.

She arched against him, pleading with her body for him to end the torture and bring her to climax.

Releasing Bryce at last, he stripped her skirt down, groaning at the sight of the garters and button-sided panties Erato had dressed her in.

“That’s just evil,” he panted.

She watched him as he bent his knees and tensed his stomach muscles so that the tip of his cock pushed against her panties. Just the thin fabric prevented him from touching her clit. He nuzzled her neck, his fingertips tracing the top edge of the garters before moving down over their straps, front and back. He pushed the fabric of her panties aside and eased the head of his erection between her labia. Tracing the lace edging of the underwear with one hand, he used the other to rub his cock head up and down her clit. Then he pushed further down, teasing the circle of her cunt. Her pussy was a raw slit of need, and she pictured her juices coating his cock and fingers.

“Brycie, you’re so wet for me now,” he said, running his hand back up to her clit, slickening the throb of flesh with her cream before pushing the hood in small circles. With his free hand, he unbuttoned one side of the panties. He switched hands, dipping back into the pocket of her cunt, teasing the tight circle and then rubbing his cock over her clit again while he unbuttoned the other side. Removing Bryce’s panties, he left her garters, hose and pumps on.

Pressing gently on her shoulders, he had her sitting perched at the edge of the bed. He moved to her side, standing with one foot on the floor and one knee on the mattress. He took the belt from her mouth and pulled her hands over her head, wrapping the belt’s end around his fist. His cock was at mouth level and he had her twisting at the torso to suck him in while she kept her pump-clad feet flat on the floor.

He brushed the tip of his wet cock against her mouth, whispering her name when she opened to accept it. She started with small licks, cleaning her honey from the dark shaft, her tongue traveling its length, swirling at the top and the small circle where her juice and his pre-cum mixed. When she took the head into her mouth, she felt the belt strap twist tighter, and Walt pulled her forward, forcing her to take more of his cock.

“Hold your legs open, Brycie,” he ordered. She obeyed, knowing that he only had to make a slight turn of his head and her cunt would be on display to him in the dresser mirror. “You said you could get off just with the contractions.”

Gawd, the way his cock filled her mouth, slick and hot, she was close to getting off without any other stimuli. Still sucking him, she gave a throaty “Yes”, her answer vibrating against his shaft. He swelled bigger, his ass and thighs tensing with restrained pleasure.

“Show me,” he ordered.

*****

When she moaned against him, Walt almost came. His gaze snapped from the shiny salmon-colored slash of pussy to her cherry red lips as she worked his cock. “Show me,” he repeated, cinching her more tightly to him before turning to stare in the mirror.

She slid her ass forward on the mattress until she hovered half off the edge. Tucking her heels beneath the bed’s frame, she kept her pussy spread wide. The inner muscles of her thighs trembled with the effort of maintaining the position, and one breast pushed against his leg as she strained to keep her mouth firmly around his shaft.

There, the first contraction, her hole sliding up and almost disappearing between her labia until she relaxed the muscles. She did it again, this time syncing her mouth to the movement of her cunt.