His Prize Model (A BBW Romance)

by Malcolm Jordan

  His Prize Model

  A BBW Romance

  Malcolm Jordan

  Copyright © Malcolm Jordan Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for some areas of review and promotions, without the prior written consent of the author. Such action is an infringement of the Copyright Law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to an actual person or persons, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to my loving family, heather and JoJo, thanks for all your patience and support.

  You are my inspiration

  Table Of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  RILEY

  CHAPTER 1

  RILEY

  CHAPTER 2

  ETHAN

  CHAPTER 3

  Riley

  CHAPTER 4

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 5

  Riley

  CHAPTER 6

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 7

  RILEY

  CHAPTER 8

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 9

  Riley

  CHAPTER 10

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 11

  Riley

  CHAPTER 12

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 13

  Riley

  CHAPTER 14

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 15

  Riley

  CHAPTER 16

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 17

  Riley

  CHAPTER 18

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 19

  Riley

  CHAPTER 20

  Ethan

  CHAPTER 21

  Riley

  CHAPTER 22

  Ethan

  EPILOGUE

  Riley

  DESCRIPTION

  The world’s top women’s magazine has dubbed him the Sexiest Man Alive.

  But don’t let the chiseled jawline, ocean-blue hypnotic eyes and powerful, rock hard body fool you.

  Billionaire Ethan Stone is one cold-hearted prick.

  An uncaring, arrogant Alpha Male who is as ruthless in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom.

  He doesn’t have a heart.

  Be warned, he just loves the ladies and leaves them, once that canon between his legs has fulfilled its task.

  But Ethan harbors a dark sexual secret.

  Riley, is sweet, sexy and innocent.

  The girl stops traffic wherever she goes.

  A thick, curvy, aspiring plus-size model, that has traded her small town roots to tackle her dreams in the Big Apple.

  Then she crosses path the man who could lead her down the route of destruction.

  But darn, whenever he is near her heart soars, her breath hitches and a jolt of electricity runs through places she is too embarrassed to say.

  Has the Sexiest Man Alive met his match in this feisty black woman who unearths his dark side? Or will the discovery of his sexy secret push her away.

  His Prize Model is a steamy full-length novel with a hot and uncompromising bad boy Alpha Male. But there is a HEA ending and a whole lot of juice pages for you to turn in between.

  Formerly published as Billionaire’s Dark Fantasy, His Prize Model features edited and additional scenes.

  If you like what you read, please leave a positive review.

  PROLOGUE

  RILEY

  My head feels like it’s going to explode.

  Sheepishly, I open my eyes… instinctively holding up my hands to block the harsh rays of sunlight streaming into my tiny apartment.

  “Damn, why did I have to drink so much last night?” I mumble to myself. The sound, however, comes out as a raspy series of almost unintelligible words.

  Shit, man ….the sunlight. Why the heck does dawn always seems to appear just as I lay my head on a pillow?

  I try to get out of bed, but it’s a slow and painful process. A million hours seem to pass before I manage to pull the drapes and plunge the room back into semi-darkness.

  Wearily, I flop back into bed. My temple is throbbing. I detect the smell of stale tequila on my breath.

  Remind me never to drink freaking tequila again.

  The previous night’s events slowly begin to crawl out of my dazed memory bank. It had been a wild… no, let’s say absolutely unbelievable night out on the town with Ethan. Hot, with a capital H; muscular, chiseled, handsome billionaire corporate raider Ethan Stone.

  And then it hit me. I had almost had sex with him on the first date.

  I had almost given up my precious virginity, which I have treasured and protected all these twenty one years, to a man I went out with for the first time.

  Freaking unbelievable.

  I lay in bed, cowering.

  Blame it on the tequila. Blame it on anyone else but me.

  Ethan’s VIP guests had been buying shots all night long and demanding that I join in the fun. Not wanting to seem like a party pooper, I had foolishly agreed. Ethan owns the freaking club, so I had no choice but to say yes, or seem like a spoilsport. Now, I am paying the price for my folly.

  That man runs in a wild crowd and I make a mental note to stay away from tequila, should we ever go out again.

  A bitter flower of shame blooms across my cheeks. I had promised myself never to let a guy touch between my legs on the first date. And no one has ever had the pleasure before…until now.

  I have no idea how I can ever face Ethan again. If I do, I promise myself I will definitely play more hard-to-get. No sense in me letting him think he is going to get into my panties so easily.

  I won’t lie, I kinda feel like a hoe...but, thankfully, the feeling lasts for just a minute.

  Oh! My goodness, the pleasures that man had made me feel when his talented fingers trailed over the curves of my hips and thighs. I felt goosebumps as his touch whispered over my body. And when he found my slippery, throbbing nub and worked it my love juice coated his fingers and I almost came.

  If his fingers are that talented, can you imagine his prick inside me?

  I keep telling myself that it was an accident, but deep down I know I had wanted it to happen! When Ethan is near my nipples stiffen until they hurt.

  From the start of the evening, my panties had been soaked from the heat between my legs. My body would tremble at the slightest touch of his fingers, anywhere on my body… no matter how innocent.

  Every time I looked at him, visions of his long, seductive tongue sliding between my legs, floated into my mind, igniting a fire in my loins and desire in my belly.

  Yes, I had had that sensitive area between my legs touched once before, and while it’s wasn’t earth-shattering, I had kinda enjoyed it. But when the son-of-a bitch had wanted to put his prick inside me, I just had to draw the line.

  Don’t get me wrong, I am not a prude, but the first man who gets to screw me has to blow me away.

  Ethan Stone had blown me away.

  Watching him out of the corner of my eyes during dinner, I fantasized about his taut body on top of mine. His thickness invading my inexperienced sheath. Oh, how I had craved to be taken last night.

  In the end, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I had settled for his fingers.

  So that’s me, the thick, curvy girl named Riley Hamilton, and I just became legal, finally the big twenty-one.

  Welcome to the real world, Riley, duh.

  Everyone says I am gorgeous, but I don’t think I have a traditionally pretty face. My nose looks too pudgy to me and my lips are too thick, although men seem to go crazy over them.

>   What is it about thick lips that excite men so much?

  I am also a bit insecure about my weight. My friends are all crazy about me being thick, but I still have hang-ups when I am around the slim, waif-looking creatures.

  I was born and bred small town girl, so the city life is a new experience for me

  Yes, I do want to finally feel a man inside me, but for now all I can do is image Ethan’s hot prick sliding into that throbbing folds between my legs.

  CHAPTER 1

  RILEY

  I am rushing to my first “go see” as a model in the Big Apple, New York City.

  Yeah, seems there is need for a curvy girl and since I fit the bill, I am going on my hustle.

  This small town girl is so excited and preoccupied in my thoughts, while scurrying along at a rapid pace, that I don’t see the tall gentleman with the briefcase in hand heading toward me. Then too late, I walk smack into him, the impact sending me crashing to the pavement.

  Embarrassed and feeling a little sheepish, I glance upward to see a strong, firm hand being extended. I grab on to it and I’m effortlessly pulled to my feet.

  I start opening my mouth to apologize profusely to the man I had crashed into, when I find myself peering into the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen.

  On closer examination, I see that the eyes are nestled atop an angular nose and a face adorned with pearly white teeth, high and solid cheeks and a sensuous mouth that curl into an engaging smile.

  Or is it more like a smirk?

  The man is a hunk. A freaking living, breathing, panty-soaking hunk.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr…”. My cheeks are flushed and were I a white woman I would be turning pink right now. A kaleidoscope of butterflies take wings in my tummy.

  “Stone…Ethan Stone,” he responds in a deep baritone that sends a delicious shudder down my spine and for some ungodly reason my sex betrays me and begins to clench.

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Stone. Guess I was in too much of a hurry and didn’t see you.” I blow out an unsteady breath.

  Shoes “No need to apologize, it’s not often that I get to literally bump into such a beautiful angel,” comes his reply, his eyes alive and sparkling and he breaks into a cocky grin.

  His gaze is burning with such intensity that I feel my soul quiver.

  Circus performers are twirling and flipping in my stomach. I am just hoping it’s not too obvious to Ethan Stone.

  Taking a deep breath and regaining my composure, I finally get a chance to take a good look at him. Ethan is dressed in a very expensive, modern, slim-fitting dark suit, matched by Aubercy Diamond shoes and a pink shirt from the Tom Ford Line. I thank my lucky stars that as an aspiring model I keep abreast of the top apparel designers so I can spot the fakes from the real thing. This man is definitely wearing authentic brands. If truth be told, one of my favorite pastimes is window-shopping at the top expensive stores, salivating at the creations and dreaming of the day when I will finally be able to afford them.

  Stone’s hair is closely cropped, which gives him a sort of boyish charm, even though I quickly sum him up to be in his early thirties.

  The man is tall, and I mean Redwood tree tall, standing well over six feet five inches if my model instincts are correct. I am tall, at five ten, and I look like a dwarf in his presence. He has a muscular frame, which even though hidden in a suit, is more than obvious. The man is fit, possessing massive arms the size of small tree trunks which dangle along his sides, broad, powerful shoulders and chest bulging nearly to his face. Even his hands are gigantic, giving the appearance they could snap my neck with barely a curl.

  He must spend his entire life in the gym to have this freaking body.

  “Now that you know my name, could I have the pleasure of knowing yours?” His booming voice slices through my body like knife through butter, sending off a tsunami warning sounds in my head.

  “Riley…Riley Hamilton,” I stutter, my breath hitching in my through and for some strange reason finding it ridiculously hard to speak. “I am an aspiring model on my way to my first casting in New York… well my first casting ever, and I was hurrying so as not to be late.”

  I don’t know why I told him that, now I feel like a silly girl.

  Ethan has that smirk on his face again, as if he is enjoying watching me squirm. His eyes are piercing, staring deep into mine, as if trying to pry into my soul.

  Maybe he is looking at my thick, curvy body and wondering how the hell I am going to a modeling casting. “I’m trying to become a plus size model, in case you are wondering.” I square my shoulder and strike a model pose.

  His eyes continue to blaze as they stare at me as if they are undressing me and I shudder under their hot glare. “Are you sure you qualify as a plus size model?” Stone scrunches his brows. “I mean you are so curvy and well proportionate, not exactly the image that comes to mind when I picture a plus size model.”

  “I hope you can accept my apology. I have to run or I will be late,” I blurt out, trying desperately to evade his inquisitive glare. I extend my hand for Ethan to shake. He takes it and his touch fans a flame that shoots fire through my body. Wetness coats my sex; my French cut panties start to dampen and I almost die a little death. My legs literally turn to jelly.

  Why do I feel like putty in this man’s hands?

  “Well, we can’t have you being late for your first casting, can we?” Ethan’s mouth curves into a wicked grin and he smiles at me, giving me that look as if I am the only girl in the world.

  Phew. Shit. What the heck is going to here, Riley?

  “No, I definitely can’t be late… my agency would kill me.”

  “Great meeting you, Riley.” Again he smiles… that great, big smile that simply melts my heart.

  Get a hold of yourself, girl.

  Before departing, Ethan offers me his business card. I courteously accept and stuff it into her purse without a second glance, as I dash towards my appointment. For some reason I feel compelled to look behind me and now I regret that I did, as I see Stone, hands on hips, smiling and staring at my thick ass swinging from side to side as I disappear amidst the throng of Manhattan pedestrians.

  CHAPTER 2

  ETHAN

  “Listen, I want that fucking deal wrapped up today or I am going to fly down there and pluck your fucking balls out,” I bark into the telephone. “With the kind of money I am paying you I expect results and I expect them fast. Get your shit off the phone and go make me some dough.”

  I slam down the receiver and swivel in my chair, brows rising and eyes alert like a hawk.

  Damn that lazy ass son-of-a-bitch.

  The light on my private line flashes again and I grab the phone.

  The voice on the other end of the line warbles on for awhile before concluding its message. “Good…get two of the most expensive escorts and send them up to his room. Make sure they are girls you would fuck yourself, okay. And I want photographs that we can use for leverage, in case the bastard finds religion or something and has a change of heart.”

  Again, I slam down the phone.

  Making a hissing sound with my teeth, I lean back in my chair, heart pumping and antenna up.

  This is what I fucking live for.

  I don’t leave anything to chance when conducting business deals and I don’t take prisoners, which is why I make so much freaking money.

  That’s why I am the best corporate raider in the business.

  They say I am fucking ruthless…so what, frankly I don’t give a damn.

  ***

  I hate New York.

  It’s an uncouth paradise of brash, loud-talking losers for the most part.

  Whenever I have to visit this city to do business, I always wince.

  Give me Los Angeles any day, City of Angels, not city of piss and shit.

  Yeah, give me my big, fucking sprawling estate in Holmby Hill any time over my high-rise New York penthouse apartment, no matter how luxuriously I have it decorated.


  The one thing I enjoy about New York is the anonymity it gives me while walking along the Manhattan city streets. Out there I am just a member of the maddening crowd; one of the masses of ants trudging along at breakneck speed, heading to God knows where. Traipsing along the streets of the Big Apple, I can feel like a mere mortal, for probably the only time in my life.

  But today is a nice summer day, so I tell my personal assistant to call off my chauffeur.

  “Claire, I feel like walking today,” I advise her, knowing fully well what her reply will be.

  “Ok, Mr. Stone. I will have the car meet you outside after the meeting.” She is always on the ball and knows never to question me when I give a command. That is why she has worked with me for four fruitful years.

  I nod and give Claire a friendly wave. My super-efficient PA is my left and right hand. I never go anywhere without her. When you are as busy as I am, you need a Claire to run your life.

  That’s just me, Ethan Stone, the man Personality Magazine voted the “Sexiest Man Alive” in its annual issue about the beautiful people, a few months ago. The choice had caused a near calamity, as everyone outside the business world started scurrying around, trying to find out just who the fuck was Ethan Stone.

  My cell phone rings and the familiar drawl of my one buddy friend Frank Jones, owner of Frank Jones Mutual Funds resonates on the line. “Ethan, you motherfucker, what’s up?”

  Stifling a chuckle, I rub my free hand against my jaw and slow down my gait. “Frank you know I hate New York, can’t wait to be back in LA.”

  “You ruthless bastard, whose company are you planning to steal in the Big Apple today, I thought you would be on your little private island in The Bahamas, the one you named Cary Island. When are you inviting me to another one of those island parties, by the way?” My friend chuckles

  “Funny you should mention is I’m planning another shindig soon, and as soon as I buy this company in New York, break it up into small pieces and sell them off, then I’ll send you an invite.”

  “Damn it Ethan when are you going to stop.” For some reason Frank sounds slightly exasperated. “I know you are the best at what you do make tons of money doing it, but sometimes I think you have a God complex. You always have to win at everything and I have to have my way… or else.”