Curves

by Tessa Vidal

  She blew out a sigh and blinked rapidly, her usual confident facade softening. “That I’m an idiot and I’ve already done wrong by you when that wasn’t my intention. At least let me take you home.”

  I wanted to turn her down, to refuse to do anything for her again, but Dylan didn’t give me the opportunity. She took my hand and led me from the restaurant. The valet scurried off in the direction of the cars when he saw us. While we waited, Dylan kept my hand tightly in hers, and every tremble that ran through her slim, tense body passed on to me. It only made me feel worse and I thought I might throw up there on the sidewalk.

  “I’m sorry, again,” she whispered. “I never should have brought you here.”

  “I’m sorry you brought me out in public, too. Maybe you think you’re an idiot, but I’m the stupid one for agreeing to a date, so I guess I deserve this.”

  She shook her head, but didn’t try to correct me. Once again, not one word in defense of me, not even against my own self-deprecation. In the end, we were both sorry she took me out. Great. Everything about the night crushed me all at once and when she opened the car door for me, I seriously considered walking away, fleeing and finding a taxi so I could cry my eyes out in the backseat. Holding in the tears was getting harder by the moment.

  The sadness in Dylan’s eyes was the only reason I got into the car. Neither of us owed the other anything and I could have walked away. I don’t know why she looked as dejected as I felt, because I doubted she regretted anything about the night except losing her chance to have it end with sex. At least the encounter with Nikki had doused my libido. Everything inside me was ice cold and sex was the last thing on my mind, for once.

  As soon as Dylan placed her phone in the center console, I saw it lighting up with more text messages than I could count. Despite the constant vibration, she didn’t glance at it. I tried not to wonder how many messages she got while we were at dinner, because the thought sickened me. Each and every one was likely a booty call, some desperate woman hoping to get some attention from her. We’d been out together on what I’d assumed was a “real date.” Clearly, I’d overestimated my own ability to deal with Dylan’s past.

  Except, it wasn’t her past. It was her present, women lined up just to get in the sack with her. I rubbed the heels of my hands against my eyes, not caring if I smeared mascara all over my face. Crying was better than losing the contents of my stomach on her upholstery.

  She pulled up at my apartment and I reached for the car door the moment we came to a stop. “Please don’t walk me up there. I don’t want us to carry on like this was a normal, civilized first date, especially since it’s our last. Besides, I’m sure you have a lot of texting to catch up on.” I motioned to the glowing phone between us and caught the way Dylan’s eyes narrowed.

  “This stupid thing?” Dylan jabbed at the phone sitting in her cup holder and her voice had the same steely undertone I’d heard when she told Nikki to leave her alone. “Do you think I actually care about these random women I was stupid enough to give my number to? I’ve never cared about any of them.”

  “I know you don’t care about them, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need them, that you haven’t gotten over your catch-and-release strategy with women. You probably keep them on a string, so you never have to feel alone.” I folded my arms and turned to glare at her. We shouldn’t have been fighting, but it seemed inevitable. I wished I hadn’t wanted her so much. It was my own fault I was here, having an argument with the unobtainable playgirl. Now there was no taking back the meanest words I’d ever said in my life.

  Dylan’s entire body shuddered with her next breath. “Yeah, well, maybe you’re right about not wanting to feel alone. But did you stop to think that you’re the one sitting in my car right now? I never let those women into my life, Sara, because I know they’re the ones who will let me down. You’re different. At first, I just wanted sex – not going to lie to you about that. After talking to you at the park, though, I literally wanted to take you out to dinner and get to know you even more. You aren’t some quick, easy fuck to me.”

  I stared at her, disbelief coursing through me, forming a lump in my throat. What could I even say to that? I’d said something terrible and she didn’t seem to have the heart to be mad at me.

  She continued, “I don’t regret taking you out, but I regret that Nikki upset you. I shouldn’t have taken you somewhere my friends might be and I should have handled it better.”

  “Or maybe you shouldn’t be friends with people like that in the first place, so you don’t have to handle anything.” Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to wipe away the wetness, but decided against it. I was sure my makeup was already a hot mess. Let Dylan see the pain her bad choices had caused another person. Maybe she would grow up a little bit.

  “More than that, I regret the moment I ever laid eyes on you, because since then, I haven’t wanted another woman. Just you, and that’s not how I’m supposed to feel about anyone ever again.” She reached out, her gesture halting and cautious, until her hand touched my face. Those last two words haunted me – “ever again” – and I sucked in a breath.

  Was Dylan revealing a heartbreak to me that she otherwise kept under wraps? That no one else knew about? Why tell me, of all people? That curiosity, along with her touch, sent a shudder through me. Not one of lust, but confusion and misery.

  “I’ve never wanted someone so bad my entire life,” she continued, “and I think that’s because you’re just such a good person, so honest and genuine about who you are. You are so much more than those women will ever be and I want to be a part of that. I’ve never had anything real in my life.” Her words were almost pleading, begging for... something.

  It would be so easy to give in and tell her I would be that real thing, but physical attraction wasn’t enough to make me say yes. “I need to think about this,” I told her. “You seem so hot and cold, and I’m getting whiplash trying to keep up. One minute, you’re undressing me with your eyes, and the next you’re telling me your secrets.”

  She brushed a strand of hair away from my face and cupped my shoulder with her other hand. The shivers continued, but they were about lust again. This was too confusing, worse than being dumped by my last girlfriend, and I hated it. Dylan leaned forward, closer to my shaking body. She was going to kiss me and I didn’t want to stop her, despite the fact that two tears fell and left hot, wet tracks along my face. I tilted my chin up, waiting for her.

  And she hugged me, enfolding me in her arms and squeezing tight. It should have been awkward or maybe even funny, but it felt... right. Warm, supportive, even loving. “You’re beautiful and different, and if you don’t give me a second chance, I’ll be the one crying.”

  Would she? Would she, really?

  Instead of voice my disbelief, I said, “Give me time. Tonight was pretty awful.”

  “I’ll give you one night, but then I’m calling you. I mean it. I think you could be the best thing that ever happened to me. Good night, Sara.” She drew back and I hated myself even more for wanting her warmth against me. I shouldn’t want someone like her, but it was too late.

  I tiptoed into my apartment, though I dearly hoped I was alone and that Jennifer was out partying with friends, making good use of that riding crop. After tonight’s fiasco, I didn’t want to face anyone. Not even her.

  Even though I’d asked for time, disappointment filled me as I got ready for bed. I was enjoying Dylan’s pursuit of me more than I wanted to admit. When I curled up under the covers and closed my eyes, I knew falling asleep would be impossible. Too many thoughts were running through my mind.

  My phone vibrated on the nightstand and I rolled over to silence it. Until I caught sight of the text. Saturday, all day, the text from Dylan said. Let me make it up to you. So much for waiting until tomorrow.

  I wanted to ignore her text, to close my eyes and drift off to sleep without giving it another thought. But I picked up the phone and answered, It’ll be
your last chance before giving in to the physical and emotional exhaustion of the night.

  Chapter Six

  Dylan

  What bothered me about the entire date debacle wasn’t the fact that Nikki had interrupted my failed attempt to woo Sara. It was the fact that I even cared, but that was that. Sara was all things good and soft and sweet, something real in a city where some things – pretention, dating the right people, having the right job – mattered more than authenticity. And even authenticity was a buzzword, now, a marketing stunt for the Instagram generation. There had to be a better word to describe Sara and why I was so attracted to her.

  After a long, sleepless night, I knew everything I’d said to her in the car was true. I really wanted to try to be with her, whatever the hell that meant. I couldn’t even think of another woman, not even for something as mundane as sex, and I’d gone so far as to block the most persistent texters in my phone.

  Not the industry people, of course, because I couldn’t exactly burn bridges. But I could let them know I was no longer available for... playtime. Why? Because a woman with earnest eyes and curves that begged to be held made the rest of them look plain and worthless by comparison. I couldn’t say that to half the vapid airheads in my “little black book.” They wouldn’t understand.

  Nor did I tell Sara any of these thoughts as she sat in the passenger seat of my car in a pure white sundress. It was a gorgeous Saturday, warm and sunny. She’d agreed to a second date after far more cajoling than I’d ever used on any woman. My pulse resided between my legs, a constant reminder of what I wanted, but decided not to have. Yet.

  Like the rest of her, Sara’s legs were curvy, with soft calves and ankles I wanted to run my hand along, right down to the pedicured feet encased in white sandals. The top of the dress was form-fitting and enhanced her curves, while the neckline scooped low enough to give me a view of abundant cleavage. It was even better when she leaned forward to adjust the radio. We’d hit that area between the city and the country, where static fuzzed out a song every few minutes. Each glimpse of exposed skin made me crazy.

  Her long, blonde curls were loose, tumbling around her bare shoulders, and she wore very little makeup. Maybe a touch of mascara and gloss. Probably a bit of BB cream to even out that otherwise naturally perfect skin. Every moment sitting next to her was torture and I wanted so much more. It helped to focus on things like what products she might be using.

  A pop song blared out of my speakers and I winced a little. Every word out of the singer’s mouth was as lascivious as my thoughts and it only made things worse.

  “You don’t like it?” Sara asked. She must have noticed my reaction.

  “I’m kind of caught up in my thoughts. It’s fine.” It wasn’t anywhere near fine.

  “Ooh, dare I ask what those thoughts are?” She turned down the radio, a welcome relief from the way the singer’s voice caressed the syllables. The sultry harmonic style made me want to do all kinds of caressing of my own.

  I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. All the better to keep my hands to myself for the time being. “I can’t really talk about it if you want me to keep my attention on the road.” Not that I’d been good at that during the last half-hour. “Your safety deserves my full attention, so I can give you my full attention later.”

  “Then please keep driving,” she told me, her voice a little breathy. I loved that I had this effect on her and that she refused to admit it. “Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “It’s a surprise, but you’re dressed for it.” I reached out to rub my thumb over her hand and she let out the sweetest sigh I’d ever heard. Usually, I only cared about the noises a woman made in the bedroom, but this was different. A preview of what was to come, which only made it that much better. A jolt ran down from my stomach down between my legs. It got worse when she started rubbing my fingers back.

  “I hope you like what you see,” she purred, making it almost impossible to concentrate on the road. Somehow, the tension had dissipated. I didn’t think she’d completely forgiven me for the awful first date, but maybe she would after today. Our turn was coming soon. Too bad I couldn’t say the same for me.

  Swallowing, I moved my hand back to the steering wheel and said, “I just want to take things slow with you. It’s not something I’ve ever done and while I want to screw you, I don’t want to screw up with you again.” When I glanced at Sara, I saw her eyes widen and that’s when I knew she wanted me to do everything I was saying. Waiting might be torture for her as much as it was for me, but it was the right way to do this.

  Good. I couldn’t be happier. It was as if a little of her innocence slipped away, which wasn’t such a bad thing. Of course, she’d never equal me in terms of all the wrong things I’d done with women, but that was fine with me. I needed Sara to be herself.

  I turned the steering wheel, drove only a few yards, and braked at our destination — a meadow with a smattering of wildflowers throughout. Normally, the beauty of nature didn’t do much for me. This time, however, I took in a deep breath. Being in a place like this alone with someone I wanted for more than one night was special.

  “You know, it’s okay to want to be screwed.” I gave Sara another look just as her breasts rose up, pressing against her dress as she inhaled. She was so beautiful, I didn’t see how anyone could put her down just because her body was a little bigger, more voluptuous. Perhaps it was jealousy on the part of the models, the knowledge that they had to sacrifice and suffer, all for the supposedly perfect stick-figure body to get into designers’ clothes. Miserable, pouty, size zero models or sweet, sincere Sara? No contest.

  I turned off the car and turned to focus on her completely. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight that radiated through the passenger side window and her cheeks were flushed. For some reason, I hoped this would be the moment she admitted how she felt, that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Hoping to push things along, I grazed her knee with my fingertips and ran them lightly up her smooth thigh, only to stop when I touched the fabric of her dress. She closed her eyes and her breathing sped up, music to my ears.

  I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, my lips meeting the flesh there. This was the closest I’d dared get to her during that interminable drive. “As long as I’m the one doing the screwing.” She turned her head, searching for my lips. I pulled back and stroked my fingers back down her knee. “Today, though, we’re going on a picnic.”

  Shock flashed across her features, but I already knew she was all mine. If all I wanted to do was relegate her to my little black book of conquests, I could do that right now. In the car, in the meadow, up against a tree. All I had to do was work my way under her dress, find her wetness, and make her moan. But I wanted more than that, now, and forcing myself to wait made me that much more giddy.

  “A p-picnic?” she stuttered. “Here?”

  “Of course. It’s a beautiful day, warm, sunny, no one will bother us, and it’s the time of year the gnats aren’t swarming. Yet.”

  “No gnats? You’re more romantic than I expected.” Despite the lust still coloring her features, Sara flashed me a playful smile and opened the car door. The sexual tension remained thick, but each step into the field alleviated it a little more.

  I hadn’t expected the basket to be so heavy, but it was worth lugging it into the meadow and finding the perfect sunny spot. While I flipped open the lid and withdrew a red and white checkered blanket, Sara spun around, wonder evident on her face.

  “Where are we?”

  “Just outside the Hamptons. There’s a carriage trail there that leads into the woods and if you follow it all the way through, a beautiful farmhouse, a barn, and some cows. I think it’s been there since the eighteen hundreds and there’s a guy who still keeps it up.”

  “Wow, carriage trails and cows. I’m even more impressed. I thought you were a city gal, through and through.” Sara turned and crouched to straighten the opposite side of the blanket.


  I sat down and started removing items from the basket. Everything, from the surprisingly exquisite paper plates to the tiny little sandwiches gave me an unexpected thrill. I’d cheated a bit and gotten the basket put together by a professional, but holy crap — the spread was amazing and if I were Sara, I’d definitely fall head over heels for me.

  The arrogant thought made me pause and chuckle. I guessed I was a little high on myself, but it was easy to be that way when no one ever said no to me. Maybe Sara would take me down a few notches... and I was ready to let her.

  “This is a gorgeous spread,” she said, her gaze moving from one thing to another. “Where did you get it?”

  “What makes you think I ‘got it’ somewhere?” I asked, offering her a plate, napkin, and utensils. “Maybe I keep a picnic basket at home for special occasions, not to mention enjoy making things like potato salad.”

  She snorted, picked up one of the plastic containers, and said, “The label. Unless you’re so hardcore that you print out special labels for your potato salad.”

  This time when I laughed, it was not at myself, but the situation. “You’re right. I don’t really cook or picnic, but who in New York does?”

  “Those of us who live on a budget find cooking a lot cheaper than going out all the time.” Sara helped unwrap and uncover the food, and soon our plates were piled high with all the picnic staples — finger sandwiches, potato salad, macaroni salad, even watermelon.

  Everything about the moment was idyllic and a damn good move. I had to pat myself on the back for getting Sara out of the city, away from the clingy models and anyone who might know us. The Hamptons would have been an option, but still a bit too close to home for my liking. This was perfect and if she knew what was awaiting her on the other side of those woods, she would probably give me anything I wanted right now.

  But the strange thing was I didn’t want her to be so easy for me. She was worth waiting for and I wanted her to feel the same way about me. Lunch was perfect. No interruptions, no buzzing phone since I was smart enough to leave it in my glove compartment, and no gnats, as promised. It was just the two of us with delicious food and twittering birds for company.