Out With A Bang: A Curvy Girl/Sweet Alpha Holiday Romance

by Lila Cole

  I take a deep breath to shake off the horniness, because there’s no sense in letting myself get all worked up over a fantasy right now.

  He lays my dress down on the end of his bed, then pulls a little tray off his dresser. “I got you a couple of bath bombs from that fancy shop you like down on Broadway. Pick the one you like and you can take the rest with you.”

  I smile, and take the tray from him, leaning down to smell them.

  Lavender, Tea Tree, Lemon and Lime. All my favorites.

  “Thanks, Josh. That was really thoughtful of you.” And observant of him. I can’t think of a single guy I’ve ever dated who could even remember my birthday, much less my favorite bath bomb scents.

  Not that Josh and I are dating. Or ever would.

  “I was thinking we could go down to the waterfront and have brunch at Salt and Cellar for your birthday.”

  “That’s my favorite brunch spot,” I tell him.

  He grins. “Yes, I’m aware. Hence the invitation,” he teases. God, he’s handsome.

  I want to grab him by the shirt and pull him down with me into the bath. See what kind of wet fun we could have in there.

  “I would really like that,” I tell him, getting out of my dirty thoughts and back to brunch. I’ll definitely need some good food to distract me after a night of sleeping so close but yet so far away from him. Alone.

  4

  Josh

  After heading up to the club room and making sure everything is set up perfectly, I go into the guest room where I hung my suit and turn on the shower. Under the warm spray, I try not to think about Jan down the hallway, so close. I try not to think about her thick, lush body soaking in my bathtub, the tops of her gorgeous breasts peeking out from under the surface of the water.

  I try not to think of the wet, curly hair at the nape of her neck as she washes herself. What she’d taste like there if I kissed her.

  I fail.

  My cock hardens at the possibility of it, and I glide my hand down my shaft, anxiously chasing release. I clench my eyes shut and lean against the shower wall for support as I pleasure myself off fantasies of her plump thighs wrapped around me as I’m buried deep inside her, lost in bliss from the wet perfection of her sweet pussy.

  I orgasm with a muffled shout, thick ropes of cum pumping out onto the shower tile. I tilt the shower head to wash it away as I catch my breath, physically sated, but still wanting more.

  Still wanting her.

  Maybe I should tell her.

  Maybe if she knows how I feel about her, we can make things work between us now instead of later.

  I think about the possibilities as I finish getting dressed, and wind up being fully ready with 30 minutes to go. I try to lounge on the couch and watch some basketball, but between thoughts of January and nerves about how things are going to go tonight, I can’t focus. By the time I get frustrated enough to turn off the TV, January’s making her way into the living room.

  She wasn’t lying. This dress? It is a great one.

  It stretches across every magnificent curve of her body. There’s a loose bow tied around the waist, accentuating her breasts. A thigh-high slit shows off enough of her leg to make my mouth water, to make me want to push back that fabric and take whatever she will give me. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a curly updo that I want to bury my face in.

  Her shoulders are bare, her skin creamy and smooth. I want to kiss my way across her body, learn every inch of it with my tongue.

  She takes my breath away. And for a man who spends a considerable amount of time projecting an unbreakable veneer to his business competitors, January? She makes me want to be weak for her.

  I want her here with me always. Just like this, walking out of our bedroom freshly dressed in a killer outfit for a night on the town. I want to come home with her, slide her dress down into a pool on the floor and kiss her senseless.

  I want to make her scream my name, make her forget any other men exist in this world.

  Ruin her for anyone else.

  Make her mine.

  She stands in front of me, hands fidgeting, looking nervous. It’s then that I realize that I’ve been standing here gawking at her like an idiot.

  “You’re breathtaking,” I tell her.

  I’m answered with a gorgeous smile. “It’s not too much?” she asks, looking down at the dress.

  I shake my head. “It’s just enough. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

  She does this little swirl that makes the slit shift and expose a little more, and my pants grow tight. I’ve got to control myself, or I’m in for the longest night of my life.

  I walk over to the coffee table, and pick up the robins-egg blue bag that I put there before I got in the shower.

  She takes a deep breath when I hand her the bag. “Happy birthday, Jan.”

  She looks up at me with trepidatious excitement. “I can’t accept this.”

  I laugh. “You don’t even know what’s in it.”

  She remedies that, pulling out the box and opening the top to reveal the Fleur earrings I picked up for her last week, after our second trip to Tiffany for an engraved rattle I had made for my unborn niece.

  They are delicate and bright, just like January. I noticed her looking at them, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The saleswoman insisted on letting her try them on, and they were so very her that I had to buy them.

  She gasps, then looks up at me. “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” I tell her with a grin. “They were made for you. It didn’t feel right leaving them there when they would only look half as good on someone else as they will on you.”

  “Josh,” she sighs. She looks like she’s going to refuse, before the desire to put them on wins out. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Happy birthday.”

  “Is it okay if I go put these on?”

  I nod. “Absolutely.” I would insist on it if she hadn’t volunteered.

  She disappears into my bathroom, and when she returns a couple of minutes later, she’s beaming.

  She gives me a hug, and I hold her tight against me, never wanting to let go. Her lips brush against my cheek, and when she pulls away, she brushes the remnant of red lipstick away with her thumb.

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “You were enough to turn heads before, but now…no one will be able to take their eyes off you. You’ll have to promise to save me a dance.”

  She laughs. It’s a light, tinkling sound. “I will, promise.”

  I lean in and kiss her cheek, caressing the curve of her cheekbone with the backs of my fingers. I’m pushing past every boundary we have between us tonight, but it feels right. “Happy birthday,” I whisper.

  “It already is.”

  I hold out my hand for her, ready to head up to the party. “Shall we?”

  Her fingers lace through mine, and her touch feels like home.

  “We shall,” she replies. “Let’s go get you this contract.”

  If I’m lucky, I’ll close out the year with that new contract and more.

  5

  January

  Josh has been understandably nervous about tonight, but I have to say…Mr. Shaw is an incredibly nice man.

  I can tell that he really likes Josh, not that he would have a reason not to. The party is in full swing, people are enjoying the amazing champagne and hors d’ouvres being served, and the band has the dancers in the crowd on their feet.

  I’m grateful that he didn’t hire the company I used to work for to cater this event, because plucking a champagne flute off a tray carried by someone I know would be incredibly awkward, and I already feel awkward enough as it is. I know I don’t belong here.

  My parents were teachers. Some of the people in this room make in a day what I make in a year. To Josh’s credit, he’s never been stuck up or exclusionary, even though a ton of people in his position probably would be. He and Rebecca have always made me feel like family, made me feel like
their money and status is something they’re excited to share instead of something that makes them better than I am.

  And I can’t say that about some of the other guests here tonight.

  Like Victoria, who is currently standing in the corner by herself, nursing a glass of wine from the open bar and staring daggers in my direction. I have to hide my smile; I’d completely forgotten she existed until I happened to go in search of the ladies’ room.

  It was there that I stood in front of the well-lit mirror and admired the earrings that Josh had given me earlier. They were insanely expensive, but that didn’t really matter so much to me. What did was that I hadn’t even known that Josh noticed me looking at them when we were in the store. I wandered off on my own as he was being helped. I’d wanted them badly; they were so uniquely beautiful, but like so many other things, they were completely out of my reach.

  I’ve never thought of jewelry—especially such expensive jewelry—as a platonic gift, but it could be, couldn’t it? I don’t want to look too deeply into something that was meant to be a simple gesture, a friend giving me something he knew I’d liked.

  But when he saw them on, the look he gave me didn’t seem friendly. It seemed heated, and full of want.

  I’m drawn out of my own confused thoughts and back into the conversation when Mr. Shaw shows our little group—his wife, Josh, myself, Rebecca and her husband—pictures of the grandkids. Mrs. Shaw tells Rebecca what to expect once her little one is born, and Mr. Shaw tells stories about his daredevil grandchildren. I can tell that their lives revolve around their family.

  “January,” Mr. Shaw says, drawing me back into the conversation. “You have such an interesting name.”

  “My mom always loved it, and when she found out that my due date was New Year’s Day, she thought it was a sign. My dad wasn’t really on board,” I explain as the group chuckles. “He told her if I was actually born on New Year’s Day he’d let her name me that, figuring that his odds were good that I’d come sooner or later. Mom went into labor on the thirtieth, and I was born at two-past-midnight. I think she held on that long out of sheer force of will.”

  They all laugh.

  “Happy early birthday,” Mr. Shaw says. “Do you have big plans?”

  “Unwinding from this wonderful party. And then Josh is taking me to Salt and Cellar for brunch.”

  Mrs. Shaw sighs dreamily. “I love that place. Bernard took me there for our anniversary a couple of years ago. It’s a great restaurant to go for a special occasion.”

  “Josh always goes out of his way to make my birthdays special,” I explain, just wanting to brag about him and also hoping that it’ll help his case with the Shaws. “Even the one a couple of years ago when I was sick. He brought over this amazing chicken noodle soup, set up a giant bed on the couch, and sat there with me all night while we watched my favorite movies and I fell asleep on him.”

  Mr. Shaw’s eyes sparkle as he looks at his wife, then over to me. “He sounds like a good friend indeed.”

  “The best.”

  The music slows, and couples start migrating out to the dance floor. Josh takes our empty glasses and puts them on a small table by the window before holding out his hand.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  I would, very much. More than anything. I simply answer, “Yes.”

  He leads me out onto the dance floor, where I slip my arms around his neck. His take their place at the small of my back, cradling my body close to his.

  He bends down, brushing his lips across the shell of my ear. “You’re doing amazing,” he tells me.

  His hot breath makes me shiver.

  I slide my fingertips down the nape of his neck, noticing the heat that burns in his eyes at the small, sweeping touch. “Thank you. Mister Shaw likes you, so does his wife. I think he’s gonna say yes.”

  I expect Josh to look over to where the Shaws are watching us, but he doesn’t. His eyes stay glued on mine, his gaze soft yet intense.

  “I think he is too.”

  “We’ll really have to celebrate when we get back to your place tonight.” It takes a couple of seconds for my brain to catch up with my mouth and realize what I said. I freak out. “Not that I…Not that we would celebrate like that, that’s not how I meant it. I just meant getting loose, drinking champagne…you know what? I’m gonna stop right there.”

  I expect him to be slightly uncomfortable with my accidental suggestion, for some awkwardness to hit, but it doesn’t.

  He just keeps gazing at me in that way that makes my pulse kick up a notch. We’re so close, I wonder if he can feel my heart hammering against his chest. He crooks his finger under my chin and tilts my face up toward his.

  “Jan,” he says, soft and sweet. I love the way he says my name. He slides the pad of his thumb along my lower lip, and everything inside me kicks up into high gear. My pulse, my breathing. I’m certain he’s gonna kiss me and the anticipation is killing me until…

  The music speeds up and the moment is broken.

  The universe really hates me. I let out this fast, bitter laugh, because why not?

  I’m still buzzing from him, every inch of my body is warm and tingly. I need a minute if I’m expected to go back to polite company. “I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room really quick,” I tell him.

  He nods, his eyes intent on me as I turn away.

  Mr. and Mrs. Shaw give me a happy smile from where they stand with two full champagne flutes in their hands. “I’ll be right back, excuse me,” I tell them.

  I float toward the small hallway that leads to the fancy restrooms, feeling like I’m on cloud nine. The memory of his arms around me distracts me, and I accidentally bump into someone. I reach out to steady them and apologize for not paying attention, when there’s a loud crash and glasses go flying everywhere, shattering into pieces against the marble floor.

  I look into the face of a fiery, angry Victoria. She’s covered in champagne. It makes wet trails of mascara drip down her red cheeks. I dislike her so much that I have to keep myself from laughing at the sight of her.

  “Watch where you’re going, you stupid, fat cow!”

  The music stops, the room goes completely quiet. Everyone looks over at us.

  I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. I run out of the room, and when I make it to Josh’s apartment it dawns on me that I can’t get in because it’s locked, I can’t leave because my keys are inside, and I don’t have my phone with me.

  Damn past me for thinking a clutch wouldn’t go well with this dress.

  Part of me wants to go back to the party, to let Victoria know I don’t care about what she thinks, but if I did that, people would just stare at me again, and I don’t want that.

  I drop down into the chair in the little sitting area by the elevators and bury my face in my hands, wanting to die from mortification.

  6

  Josh

  It only takes me a second to spring into action.

  “Get out,” I tell Victoria. We’ve known each other ever since we were in prep school, and she’s always been trying to get me to notice her, to go out with her. It was fine when I was the only one annoyed by her presence, but she doesn’t get to embarrass the woman I love like that and stick around.

  “What?” she says, laughing.

  “You heard me. Get out,” I repeat. The fury coursing through me makes my hands curl into fists. My nails press into the skin of my palm.

  “If you kick me out, my father is gonna terminate his contract with you.”

  “Please, I hope he does. If it means Rebecca can finally stop inviting you to these things out of politeness, I would welcome it.”

  She’s been trying to get me to ask her out since we were in prep school together. If there’s anything good I can say about Victoria, it’s that she’s persistent. Having to deal with her myself was one thing, but her thinking she can insult the woman I love is another. I won’t stand for it.

  “Yo
ur company will tank without us.”

  I laugh. “No, Victoria. It won’t.”

  She folds her arms over her chest and looks at me with disgust.

  “I’ll never understand what you see in that whale.”

  I want to end her father’s company. Buy it out, sell it off for parts, bury it. I want Victoria as far out of my orbit as I can get her.

  “She’s kind, she’s intelligent, she’s beautiful. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t recognize any of those qualities in a person.”

  She stammers, trying to come up with something to reply with, but failing.

  “Get out before I call security up here to drag you out.”

  It takes her a second, but finally she storms off, causing a scene.

  I head for the door, anxious to get to Jan. Anxious to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her how I feel about her.

  To make sure someone like Victoria hasn’t dimmed the light inside her that I love so much.

  Bernard Shaw grabs my elbow before I can leave. I had completely forgotten that he was here.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go check on Jan—”

  Mrs. Shaw puts her hand on my forearm. “As you should, dear.”

  “I think I’ve seen enough,” he tells me. “You’ve shown me exactly the kind of man that you are.”

  A nervous rush zips up my spine. “What kind of man is that?”

  “One who knows what the important things in life are and is willing to make those things a priority. I’ll have my assistant set something up in the next couple of weeks so we can finalize everything.”

  The moment isn’t as sweet as it would be if Jan was here by my side. “Thank you,” I tell him, reaching out to shake his hand. When I make the move to leave, he stops me one more time.