Hunting for Curves (BBW Erotic Romance) (8 page)

"It is, but I've wanted to do this since I bought the place." Evan turned to her. "The hotel is too segmented from the local culture, but with the right changes, we could make it a destination instead of a very tall afterthought. Long term, I'd like to buy the building next door and turn that into a theater. But in the meantime, I'll be satisfied with an upscale wine bar with good lighting."

"So no more peach martinis?"

"We'll see. It's a long way off."

Evan settled back into the couch and stretched his long legs. Jasmine took another sip of wine. Slower this time. Light had gleamed in his eyes when he spoke about his plans for the hotel, but now he seemed cool and collected again. He watched her with an indecipherable smile as he drained the last of his glass.

"More?" He reached for the bottle.

She extended her hand and let him top off her glass. For a moment, it felt like she was getting to know him. The man who Luke knew, not the careful image Evan liked to portray. With her courage buoyed by the alcohol, she tried again.

"If you care about culture, like you said…"
It's probably a stupid idea
, she thought, her voice trailing off in a whisper.

"I do. Go ahead."

"Well…" She cleared her throat and took a long sip of wine, forcing herself to continue. "Have you considered putting smaller businesses in that retail space, instead of big chains? Like artisan wine and cheese, a local coffee brewer, things like that…"

Evan gave her a long, thoughtful look.

"Forget it," she stammered. "Sorry. I didn't mean—I don't know anything about your business."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead." He raised his hand to stop her from apologizing again. "No, it's a good idea. It would make the place unique, and local flavor could be a big hit with hotel guests. I think Luke would agree too. He likes standing up for the little guys."

"You really think so?" She stared into her wine glass.

"Yes. Don't underestimate yourself. I certainly don't."

She let his words hang for a moment, then she sucked in her breath and took a gulp of wine for good measure. "Look, I appreciate everything you've done for me and I had a great time with you both but—" She leaned forward. "Why me?"

He arched an eyebrow and took a slow sip before he spoke again. "Why not?"

"I'm just an average girl who can barely pay the rent. You could have had your pick of anyone in that bar."

A frown tugged at his mouth. "If I was seeking the company of a supermodel or a hooker, I would have just paid for it. But I'm not interested in that sort of thing." He straightened, bracing his elbows on his knees, so he looked directly into her eyes. And for a moment she was caught by the intensity of his ashen-blue stare.

"Jasmine, you are far from average. I could tell that when I first saw you."

She swallowed and took another drink, if for nothing else but to break the burning hold of his gaze.

"You've never done anything like this before. I got that from the first night we were together." She looked up to face him again. "How can you know me so well? I mean, do you normally find women attractive?"

"Truthfully?" There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "No. At least not in the conventional sense."

"That's what I mean. How can you say that I'm special when you aren't even interested?"

"Jasmine. You are an exception."

"What does that even mean? I mean, am I just a game? Like a play toy for your lover?"

Evan drank the last of his glass and set it down to refill it. Then he tilted the wine bottle over her glass.

"That is a fair question." His eyes flicked to hers. "But, no. That is not what this is about. It might have started that way but it has evolved into something more."

"What then?" She gave him a nod as the wine reached the rim.

"This is not easy for me. I've been out as gay for the majority of my life." He set the bottle back down, next to his drink. "So I hope you can understand that it is difficult for me to admit that I find you attractive."

"But you didn't even sleep with me."

He cleared his throat. "I wanted to." A small chuckle jerked his chest. "God, I still want to."

Her brows lowered as she leaned closer to him, trying to gauge if he was serious. "What about me is stopping you?"

His forehead knitted as he stared back at her. And for a moment he looked different. The confidence left his eyes and his expression looked almost… pleading.

"Nothing." He breathed. "Except my own fear of breaking something so beautiful."

Jasmine wanted to ask what exactly he meant, but the question drifted away as time slowed to a crawl. Every heartbeat took seconds, then minutes. Thudding. Echoing. She focused on the smooth planes of his face as he drew closer.

Evan's lips closed over her mouth and she fell into his arms. A distant alarm rang in the furthest reaches of her mind but it was soon forgotten as his tongue invaded her. He smelled like hot steel and clean sweat, mixed with leather and aftershave. And she drowned in the warmth of his body.

Still locked in their kiss, he pulled her up to her feet, shrugged out of his coat and yanked the tie from his neck. Her hands braced against his firm chest as he bore down on her, urging her down the hall, his fingers rubbing her sides, gripping her ass through the thin fabric of her dress.

Then he pulled the straps down her arms and she let the cloth drop to the ground. His breath blew hard against her cheek as their tongues wrestled, tasted, caressed in a locked battle of hunger.

Her bare legs hit the bed and she sat heavily, breaking the embrace. His shirt was already open as he stared down at her. "I… I have to get the condoms out of the car." The color in his eyes was like molten sapphire.

"Don't bother. I'm on the pill."

He leaned forward and caught her mouth again, kissing her with all his might. At the edge of her awareness, she felt his belt loosing under her fingers, then she pulled his fly open. She quickly pushed his pants down and gripped his already-hard cock.

"I want you," she mumbled around his lips. "Inside me."

A growl rumbled up his chest and he kissed down her neck, biting and sucking on her tender skin. Then he freed his legs and crawled on top of her. He pulled her underwear aside, exposing her moist lips, before pressing the thick head of his cock to her opening.

His length speared her and she gasped, arching her back at the sudden invasion. With strong hands he lifted her legs and braced his shoulders to the backs of her calves. She whined at him, pleading for him to continue. And he only waited a moment, as his eyes devoured her vulnerability.

Then he pumped into her, his hips smacking her ass and the backs of her thighs. His long cock stretched her, drilling into the deepest part of her. She saw stars as electricity warmed through her nerves, building to an intoxicating crescendo.

He latched onto her lip and pulled with his teeth, sending shivers of pain up her face. But she ignored it as the well in her heaved and waves of sinuous pleasure rolled through her body.

His weight pinned her, slamming her crotch, bumping against a white-hot fire that burned brighter with each thrust.

"Oh, God." Her eyes rolled back and she breathed out a long whimper as her nerves exploded with mind-numbing bliss around his pumping shaft.

He gritted his teeth and blood rushed in his cheeks. Then he groaned, dropping his head to her chest as his back spasmed and his cock throbbed inside her. His hips continued to pump but his rhythm slowed.

Her hand brushed through his messy blonde hair. She felt his seed, sticky between her legs but she didn't mind. At that moment she wanted to be his, even if it was only for a night.

Her eyes flashed open as she heard a thump.

Luke stood at the door, his duffle bag next to his feet. His jaw worked as if he were trying to speak. Light glittered in his wide eyes.

"Luke!" Evan shouted as he quickly climbed off the bed. A dozen emotions flashed over his face. Despair. Anguish. Regret. None of them masked.

"Don't—" Luke raised an arm and closed his mouth. Then he turned and stormed down the hall. A door slammed, rattling the pictures on the walls.

Evan sat heavily on the bed, his elbows braced on his bare knees, his face cupped in his hands.

Jasmine quietly pulled on her dress and gathered her shoes.

"I can call you a taxi," Evan mumbled behind his fingers.

"No need," she said softly. Then she stopped for a moment in front of him. Leaning close, she whispered, "I'm sorry," before planting a kiss on the top of his head.

Outside, she spied Luke, leaning against a wall next to the stairs. He didn't look up as she gingerly stepped down to the gritty concrete. He kept his head down instead, as he took a long drag off a cigarette.

But he doesn't smoke.
The thought was distant, somewhere in the back of her mind. She watched him for a moment but he didn't make a move to acknowledge her. "Luke, I didn't m—"

"Don't," he said in a low voice. Then he took another slow drag.

She crossed the small street with her head low, standing at the edge of the beach. Her fingers shook as she scrolled on her phone, trying to find the number for a taxi.

Luke made a scoffing sound and she looked up. His foot ground out the last of his smoke, his eyes closed, his shadowed lips tight under the streetlamp. With a decisive turn, he stomped up the steps and back into the house.

The number flashed over the screen and she hit the call button. Jarring music blasted over the speaker as her call went on hold. She held it at arm's length which made a strange, chaotic contrast to the gentle breeze and the crashing waves.

Someone passed in front of the wide brightly-lit picture window. Luke. His fist was balled as he jerked his bent arm. Another figure. Evan. His open hand outstretched. Their lips moved, but at this distance she had no idea what they were saying.

"Taxi, hello. What is your destination?"

Luke leaned forward his jaw wide as if he were screaming. Evan shook his head and reached out.

"Taxi! What is your destination, please?"

Luke brushed Evan's hands away with a violent swing. The little porcelain statue teetered on the edge of the table next to him.

"Hello?"

Then it fell, disappearing from her view. The two men stared down at the floor for a brief moment before Luke brushed past as he headed into the hall. Evan remained by the window, his head down. Slowly he knelt down and lifted the shattered remains of what was once a beautiful piece of art.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

Jasmine blinked at the screen in front of her. The day had flown by as she typed furiously on the keyboard, evaluating her most recent project with an efficient, yet grim determination. It had been over a week since that night, when everything had fallen apart.

Rodney had called her several times but she had let him speak to her voicemail. He sounded confused and hurt. But she wasn't ready to face him yet. Maybe she'd let him stew for a few more days before she let him know why she hadn't been speaking to him. Then maybe he'd be more faithful to her.

Mary had also tried talking to her. It probably would have made Jasmine feel better to speak to someone about the whole ordeal. But she wasn't ready to forgive herself for what she'd done.

She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she noticed the last bright purple flower on her desk plant had shriveled up.

A frown tugged at her lips as she plucked the stem and tossed it into the trash.
Maybe I'm meant for someone like Rodney.
Then at least her own flaws would be masked by his shortcomings.

"Jazzie."

Her shoulders jerked and she glanced up. The office manager simply waved for her to follow him.

The skin on her neck crawled as she stepped into the conference room. Had she missed a deadline? No. She kept a log of every contract. He was probably going to blame her for another missing file or a typo entered by a co-worker.

He slowly closed the door behind him, then took a seat across from her.

"You've been a good employee." He cleared his throat and laced his fingers on the table in front of him. "And I want you to know I appreciate all the hard work you've done."

Her eyes widened.
Oh no.

"But we've had to move some of our contracts overseas in an effort to make cutbacks."

Her lips parted as her breath caught.
No, no, no—

"And, unfortunately, we're going to have to let you go."

The blood drained from her face as she stared back at him.
My car's still in the shop. Rent's due in a week. I was going to buy some groceries today—

"Sorry, kiddo. I really did like you." He smiled but his eyes remained neutral.

"When?" Jasmine croaked.

"Today." He pushed a piece of paper across the desk. "Don't worry about finishing up what you're working on. Your login will be frozen by the time we're done here. Just sign this and your desk will need to be clear by five."

With numb fingers, she scrawled her name on the dotted line next to the words, "Exit Interviewee."

Then he stood up and extended his hand. "I wish you the best of luck, Jazzie. You're spunky and cute. I'm sure you won't have any problems finding a new job."

She limply shook his hand. Then she sat for a moment staring at her lap, as he left the room.
That's how he saw me? Spunky? And cute?

Most of the office workers had left for the day by the time she got back to her desk. She stared longingly at Mary's empty chair, just across the aisle. Right when she needed a friend the most, of course she was all alone.

She managed to get most of her belongings into a small box. But her African violet was in a round, self-watering pot that was simply too large to fit. She wasn't even sure it would survive the change in lighting if she took it back to her apartment. So she placed it next to Mary's keyboard with a note.

Check the water level a few times a week and right before the weekend. I'll miss you. -Jasmine

The bus ride home was slow and awkward. People glanced at her nice, pleated skirt and formal blouse. Then their eyes would fall on the box, with the tiny lamp shade and picture frame standing out. She hated pity. But they all gave her varying forms of it: either a sad smile, a knowing nod, or a quick look away. She wanted to throw her things at them.