by Adele Niles
Stay For Me
The Slippery Curves Series
Book 1
Table of Contents
Stay For Me
Copyright
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One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Epilogue
Stalk me...
Copyright
First Edition, May 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Adele Niles
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
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About This Book
Stay For Me
To Owen Collier, a job is a job. He gets paid to save businesses, cuttings costs and people. No mercy. No attachments. No goodbyes. Simple rules to follow, until Addy Walker. She’s smart and gorgeous with curves he’d love to ride for days. His temporary employee that’s making every single thing harder, especially leaving for the next job.
Addy Walker hated her job until Owen Collier became her temporary boss. Strong, demanding and controlling. Exactly the way she loves her men, but does Owen even know she exists?
One night, one drink and one kiss breaks every rule, but is it enough to make him stay?
This book contains an older, over the top alpha, a hot younger curvy girl with all the right moves, instalove and enough steam to make you run for an ice cold shower.
Buckle your seatbelt, because there are slippery curves ahead in this new series from Adele Niles that makes for a perfect sizzling hot steamy short read novella. Stay for Me is book 1 in the slippery curves series about sexy, curvy girls and the alpha men that love them.
WARNING: This book contains a plot, character connection AND instalove with steamy scenes. Prepare to suspend your disbelief and enjoy a HEA with no cheating.
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One
Addy
I pull the red dress over my head and smooth it. It’s snug, fitting my curves. Damn, I look good. Maybe a little too good for a day at the office, but that shouldn’t matter. I adjust my bra, pushing up my tits and allowing my cleavage to peek through the v-cut neckline.
It’s a temptation to second-guess the dress, but I battle the temptation. Hell, I used to second-guess everything I put on. I was never a skinny girl, but I certainly wasn’t ashamed of my curves either.
“Those are your assets.” My mom used to say that growing up. “Someday you’ll use them to your benefit.”
I never felt that way. I’m comfortable in my own skin, but at work, I’d rather keep to myself. I’m a data girl. A self-proclaimed geek. I love the numbers and hate the people.
Well, most people.
I flip my blond hair over my shoulder and check myself one last time.
Today is the big day. Project release day. I’ve spent the last eleven and half months crunching data for this project. That alone could have been enough, but seeing my first big project completion tops it off.
Well, that and Owen.
Fuck. Owen. Hearing those two words together in my head is enough to send me over the edge. Instead, I check myself one last time in the floor-length mirror, turning to the side.
“Who am I kidding?” I smirk to myself. My mother said I had assets, but my stepdad always said that men don’t make passes at girls with big asses.
Fuck him. For some reason that asshole’s words still haunt me. Five years of fat shaming by him have been matched by the five years of therapy I’d been in to fix it.
I arrive at work forty-five minutes before everyone else. I like a quiet office. Being here before the gossip and talking starts gives me a sense of peace. The office has been a constant buzz of chatter ever since word of the buyout circulated. That buyout is the whole reason for my project—crunching data to find out where the bank can cut staff and finances.
At least I didn’t have to make the decisions or recommendations. That was Owen’s job. Owen Collier. Business consultant, boss, hot as shit, man of muscle. He took my data and made decisions.
Hell, he can take anything he wants of mine.
I blank out as I stare at the monitor. The numbers are a blur and all I can think about is Owen now. That body wrapped in tight suit pants and a polo that was obviously two sizes too small, but I wasn’t complaining.
“Are you going to come tonight?” His low growl of a voice startled the hell out of me.
I could feel my face immediately flush.
“Um, what?” I spin in my chair to see Owen standing at the entrance to my cube. His dark gray pants hug his muscular thighs and leave a bulge I don’t even need to strain to imagine. I force myself to meet his eyes, trying not to scan the rest of his body.
“Tonight, we’re going to have a little celebration at Manny’s pub. A year’s worth of hard work, finally coming to an end.” Owen shifts to the other foot and dangles his arm over the edge of my cube wall, accentuating his bicep, the vein snaking down his arm and branching out like a tributary of rivers. “I was hoping you were going to come.”
Every time he says that word, my thighs sweat with need. Come. If he only knew how much I’d love to come for him.
I bite my lip, trying to think of a million excuses why I can’t go. Most of them have to do with not wanting to socialize with the rest of my team. The pretentious group of people believes they know everything.
“No, I don’t think so. I have plans,” I lie.
“Cancel them. You’re going out with us,” Owen demands.
I like it when he takes control.
When he tells me what to do.
I stare into his steely gray eyes, almost hypnotizing myself. I want to say no, but I can’t.
“Yeah, sure,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
“Perfect.” Owen flashes me his dazzling smile and runs his fingers through his wavy dark hair, as if he knows he just got his way. I’m sure he always gets his way. “Status meeting in ten minutes. Conference room five.”
“Uh-huh.” It’s all I can mutter as I watch him spin and walk away. His tight pants look just as good from behind as they do from the front.
Fuck, what did I just commit to? Drinks with the boss and co-workers?
I just opened up an entirely new level of anxiety for the day.
Two
I wait until I’m around the corner before I adjust my quickly growing hard-on. I had to cut the conversation short with Addy or she’d probably notice the huge bulge in my pants.
Looking at her in that dress. Those tits. Those lips. Shit, the entire package.
I slide my cock to the left so it can expand down my leg, and give myself a quick check to see how noticeable it is. Very.
Moving my tablet and folders so I carry them across the front of me, I clench my jaw. I’ve made it almost twelve months at the bank without breaking any of my own personal rules. I love being a consultant.
Traveling. Meeting new people. Seeing new cities.
The money.
I always bury myself in the work so I won’t be distracted. My first rule, never mix business and personal lives. My job is to find the dead weight during mergers and acquisitions. The minute I see them as people with lives, feelings takeover. Guilt. Sympathy.
Yeah, it’s ruthless, but that’s why companies pay me as much as they do. With me here, the executives don’t have to feel bad about themselves.
Which brings me to rule two—no attachments. The executives always make me an offer to stay on board. Be the heavy. The hatchet man. It’s always a lot of money, but not enough to stay.
Thinking about work allows my hard cock to subside, at least until Addy walks into the room for our status meeting. When she does, I’ll see her tits and ass framed by that hot-as-fuck red dress once more. Then it will be back to the same inner struggle I’ve been fighting for the last year.
I remind myself of the rules.
Don’t mix business with personal.
Don’t get attached.
When I look at Addy, I forget both of those things. I’m so fucking screwed.
Three
Addy
I stay true to myself in being prepared, and I arrive at Manny’s twenty minutes before everyone else. Nothing says “prepared” like getting an early start on relaxing my anxiety, so I chug a glass of wine.
“Hey Addy, where are we sitting?” Stephanie’s high-pitched, whiney voice pierces my ears. “Aren’t you excited? We can finally move on to another project! I wonder if we will still be working together…”
Stephanie continues to drone on. I’ll definitely be having a second glass of wine, and as soon as possible.
Then Owen walks into the pub, and I tune out Stephanie. He’s followed by the three other people on our team—Chris, Alana, and Doris.
Owen’s eyes meet mine and he motions to a table in the corner of the bar. I immediately follow, dragging Stephanie along with me.
I can feel the effects of the wine beginning to set in and it feels good. It allows me to drop my guard just a little and feel social. It’s not long before the waitress comes and takes everyone’s order.
Drinks for everyone, except Owen. He orders a ginger ale and appetizers for the table. I guess that’s the boss’s responsibility, staying sober.
Everyone is making small talk, rehashing the meetings of the day. They joke together. It’s obvious that the four of them, excluding Owen, have hung out in social situations before, making me even more of an outsider.
“So, when will the hammer come down?” Chris laughs. He’s a programmer and was in charge of writing the code to merge the two banks’ human resources records.
Owen shoots him a stare.
“It’s already happened.” I watch as Owen leans toward Chris, his biceps still bulging as if he’s never stopped flexing them. “It’s why I asked you to come here today.”
The smile falls from Chris’s face and the table falls silent. I feel my stomach turn as I try to make sense of exactly what Owen has said. This is where my light buzz isn’t doing me any favors.
“You mean we’re all fired?” Chris collapses back in his chair as the waitress drops off the drinks, distributing them to each of us as we sit in silence.
I needed something stronger than a third glass of wine.
Owen doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Everyone except Addy.”
My heart sinks as everyone turns their gaze towards me. I slink in my seat as I look at Owen. Then a smile creeps across his face.
“I’m kidding,” he laughs. “No matter how many times I do this, it never gets old. You all did a great job on this project.”
The table erupts in laughter, except for Chris, who looks a little pissed at the joke, and then eases off.
Owen turns to me and smiles, shooting me a little wink as he leans in. “I’m glad you came.”
My heart immediately pounds harder, my thighs sweat again, and this time, I can feel my pussy begin to tingle. This man has no idea what he does to me.
I toss back my drink, draining every last drop. Then I order a spicy margarita. I allow myself to just take it all in, snacking on some of the appetizers and engaging in small talk. It’s possible to drink and not talk, and that’s my game plan. Be here as requested, have a few drinks, and otherwise keep my mouth shut. It’s smart. It’s safe.
“This was probably one of the toughest contracts I’ve had,” Owen says. “I try to separate myself from the job, but sometimes it’s difficult.”
This is probably the most I’ve spoken to Owen outside of my own daydreams about him. I can feel the room get a bit opaque, my buzz deepening. I’m hanging on every word falling from Owen’s gorgeous mouth.
As the hours pass, I think about how much I’d love to kiss that mouth, bite his full bottom lip. Run my fingers through his hair.
He continues to talk and I scan the table for some more food to pick on, maybe sustaining my buzz, but it’s mostly gone. I stopped drinking after the second hour in this place.
The urge to pee hits me. I don’t want to get up and leave this conversation and Owen’s attention only on me, but I have to.
“Hold that thought,” I say, realizing I probably slurred the only three words I’ve said in about twenty minutes. I get up, steadying myself, and head to the bathroom.
I want to look back. To see if he’s looking at me. But that would be obvious.
I can’t help myself and do it anyway. I glance over my shoulder, but he’s not paying attention. Why would I think he’d actually be looking? I rush through my pee, wanting to get back so no one else steals his attention.
Three steps out of the bathroom and I freeze. The table’s empty and everyone is gone. Fuck. My. Life. I wasn’t in there that long, but then again, maybe I’m more fucked up than I think I am.
I almost want to cry, but I don’t. It wouldn’t matter. Who would care?
I take in a deep breath and at the exact moment something touches my back.
“Everyone else decided they wanted to hit one of the clubs downtown.” Owen’s deep growl soothes me as I feel his breath on the back of my neck. “That’s not really my thing, but I’ll go with you if you want to join them.”
“No, I think I’ll call it a night.” I begin to walk back to the table.
Owen is directly behind me, his hand still on the small of my back.
My pussy is still tingling.
“Okay,” he says. “I was hoping maybe you’d have a drink with me.”
“I didn’t think you drank,” I said, taking my seat back at the table.
“Not at work functions, but everyone’s left, so I think it’s safe.”
So, he no longer considers this a work function.
Him. Me. Together in a pub. Owen is a master of the mind-fuck for sure. If I have to hold a conversation with him, I’m going to need at least one more drink.
I nod in agreement and order another margarita as Owen orders a bourbon.
I reach down and pinch my leg just to make sure this is really happening.
“So now what?” I ask. “What’s next?”
I’m not sure where the conversation is going, but I can’t stand the silence. I suck at small talk.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll start on a new project. You are incredibly talented. Probably one of the
smartest people I’ve worked with.” Owen pulls out his money clip and removes a business card from a pocket. “In case you ever decide you want to become a consultant.”
I grab the card, expecting to see Owen’s name plastered across it, but don’t.
“Call Hilary,” he says. “She’s the best head hunter I know. She’ll be able to hook you up with something. If you ever get the urge.”
Owen takes a sip from the glass the waitress had just sat down. He bites his lower lip—the lip I’ve been wanting to bite all night.
I squeeze my legs together tightly, bringing back that feeling.
“This is where you work?”
“I work through them, yes.” Owen leans in closer and I can smell a combination of the bourbon on his breath and his scent. Strong, muscular, sexy. I hadn’t noticed it before. “The work is difficult, but rewarding. It’s great money, but you have to separate yourself from the job and people. I have rules. Never get personal, never become attached. It’s why this job in particular has been so difficult for me.”
I hear his words and draw my own conclusion. He sips his drink, and I chug the rest of mine.
“I should probably be going,” I say, not really understanding my sudden onset of nervousness. I stand and wobble, then I grab a hold of Owen’s arm.
It’s the first time I’ve actually touched him and he’s every bit as solid as I imagined. His skin is soft and warm, but the muscle underneath bulges and I struggle to get a good grasp of his upper arm with my small hands.
I look up at him as he towers over me by at least nine or ten inches. Those numbers just pop in to my head and I immediately think about how much that really is, in length.
My head comes to the middle of his chest. I’d never notice the height difference, but I’m suddenly noticing everything about Owen tonight.
“I should make sure you get home safely,” he says as he steadies me. “I’ll drive you home.”
Owen doesn’t wait for my answer and I don’t let go of his arm.