Curves

by Tessa Vidal

  I couldn’t help but chuckle in response to that. “I guess, in a way, I’m lucky. Because of how I look, I’ve pretty much always been the last choice for romance. So, I suppose there’s nowhere for me to go but up. A fat girl always needs something to look forward to.”

  “Jeez, Sara, I wish you would stop saying things like that. The people who made you feel this way about yourself are jerks. If I could, I would find each and every one of them, and let them know they’re idiots who are missing out on a good thing. I can’t think of anyone but you. You’re sweet and smart, and so funny. If you give me a chance, my future will be nothing like my past, and the same goes for you.”

  It had to be the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me and I blew out a breath. What I’d done to deserve, let alone “reform,” the hottest woman in the city, I didn’t know. But she was right. I had to learn to trust. At least a little bit. Dylan hadn’t done anything for me to question her words or motives. I wasn’t being fair to her by assuming she was going to treat me like every other woman in her little black book. Because if she was going to, she’d have loved me and left me already by now.

  “I’ll do my best,” I told her, “if you kiss me right now.”

  She grinned wider. “What, here, in front of everyone?”

  I nodded, butterflies invading my stomach. Someone who wanted a no-strings-attached night wouldn’t do what I asked. But she rose from the chair, braced her hands against the table, and leaned across it to kiss me. Our lips met only seconds before the waitress returned with drinks, and part of the satisfaction of the kiss was making the flirtation server stand and wait. Dylan must have felt it, too, because her mouth quirked against mine.

  When we parted, the waitress set the drinks on the table, turned on her heel, and fled. Dylan winked at me. “Come to my place tonight and I promise to make everything all better.”

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan

  Whether she knew it or not, Sara was the sexiest woman on earth. At least, as far as I was concerned, and I wanted her. The waxing incident intrigued me even more. It took a lot of confidence to pull off a Brazilian and the idea of seeing it made my mouth water. At the same time, Sara’s self-deprecating remarks broke my heart. How could such an intelligent woman be so insecure?

  I wanted to find the person who had done a number on her self-esteem and make them sorry. When I first laid eyes on Sara, I wanted to find my way between those soft thighs and have her begging me to fuck her, like every other woman in the city. Now, though, I knew she wasn’t like any other woman, and my intentions were anything but sexual. Well, almost. I still wanted her naked and begging, but I also wanted her to feel cherished, adored, special.

  That meant I had to take things even slower and I didn’t know if I was capable of that.

  “How will you make everything all better?” she asked, those blue doe eyes of hers giving me shivers.

  How? “Let’s start at my place,” I suggested. My libido surged at the idea. I’d been holding back for almost a month now, nervous energy building within me. It had to go somewhere.

  This was gone to be the longest dinner of my life.

  ****

  NEITHER OF US WAITED to leave the restaurant. The parking lot of it, anyway.

  Within moments of sitting inside my car and locking the doors, our lips met. She started tracing the skin along my neck and shoulders, and I lost myself in her gentle touch. Even though I wanted her, I had to make myself stop. No one felt special while getting eaten out in the backseat of a car. Excited, yes, but it wasn’t exactly a recipe for romance. We could save the super horny times for later. Right now, I had to show her she meant more to me.

  Sara wasn’t making it easy. She leaned over to lick my neck and her nipples brushed across my breasts. Everything she did felt brand new, like no other women had ever touched or kissed or licked me before Sara.

  “Stop,” I whispered and gently pushed her back into the passenger seat. She smiled at me, a sort of half-smirk that promised all kinds of trouble. One of her curls fell across her face. I tugged at it before tucking it behind her ear.

  This was crazy. I wasn’t supposed to want her this much, but it was time to extend the invitation I’d never given another woman. Until now.

  “Stay at my place tonight. Don’t ask me to have sex with you here, because I want everything to be perfect. Maybe we won’t even have sex there, but at least stay with me.”

  She stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “I’m the most sexually frustrated person in New York and I need this. I thought nothing would be worse than the waxing, but I was wrong. Wanting you is more painful than anything.”

  I blew out a breath, my body sagging with relief. All the times I’d been with women, it was about how I felt, what I got out of it, what sex did for me. I never considered what they wanted, but now my ego didn’t come into play. Sara was sexually frustrated? I wanted her to want me, yes, but I didn’t consider how much it might affect her.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  She shifted in the seat, her legs falling open. “Why don’t you check it out for yourself? I think you really can make everything all better.” Her words were hesitant, but her shyness only made her that much hotter.

  Considering the things I’d done to women in places all over the city, reaching for her thighs was hardly the worst of it. My fingers drifted up along her skin and then over the soft, smooth cotton covering the waxer’s mortal sin. Sara’s head fell back against the seat and she undulated against my hand invitingly. I wanted to give her so much more then and there, but I drew back and gripped the steering wheel.

  “As soon as we get to my place, I’ll get up close and personal with every inch of your body,” I assured her.

  The only response she gave was a long gaze that she skated down my body and back up, checking me out thoroughly. Normally, I preened under that kind of attention. This time, though, heat permeated every inch of my skin. I cleared my throat, started the engine, and got us to my place in record time.

  It wasn’t the most expensive apartment on the Upper East Side, but it garnered an appreciative glance from Sara when we walked through the front door. The doorman offered us a polite “Good evening,” but nothing more. I tried not to think of the number of women he’d seen come and go through the doors with me. Most left within hours and I never invited them over for a second time. It was the one thing I couldn’t change about my past, but now that Sara was here, I could change my present.

  Somehow, we kept our hands to ourselves in the elevator. From the glances Sara kept sliding toward me, I could tell she wanted to do something, but I made her wait. Unlocking and walking through my front door always gave me a sense of relief, like I was home and could let go of everything from my day. This time, though, I remained tense, almost perspiring as if I’d just come back from the gym. But a visit to the gym would relax me, not leave every muscle tight and my nerves raw. I locked the door behind Sara and watched her pause to slip off her shoes.

  She glanced back over her shoulder at me and smiled. “Very nice. I half-expected some minimalist place with lots of black and white, and no furniture, but this is cozier than I expected.”

  “Not the swanky bachelorette pad you thought I’d have?” I chuckled and sauntered past her, trailing my fingers over the sofa. “It’s comfortable and practical. I don’t need fancy things.”

  “No, just a fancy address,” she teased. “Do I get the grand tour or should we get this party started?”

  Her casual reference to what we were about to do made me cringe. “We aren’t here for a party, Sara. We’re here so I can finally show you how I feel about you.” It hurt that she was still under the impression that I was going to take what I wanted and then drop her.

  I led her into my room, tugged at her hand, and said, “The tour starts here, but it doesn’t end here.”

  She bit her lower lip and blinked at me, shattering my self-control. “Then have sex with me,” she
whispered, “and don’t stop until we can’t catch our breath.”

  Thank fuck. I took her other hand, backed her up to the king-sized bed, and pushed until she was on her back. Her hair fanned out all around her and I lingered over Sara, looking down at her. Where others saw fat, I saw a smart, beautiful, fun woman. And I had the privilege of receiving permission to worship every inch of her soft body.

  I kissed her mouth, her forehead, her nose, her neck. For once, I’d brought someone home who I didn’t want to leave as soon as I’d gotten us both off.

  Her breasts strained against the dress and I rubbed my face over them, between them, along her sides. She smelled amazing, like soap and Italian herbs. The dress was a barrier, but one I could use to draw this out for us both. I drew my hands down from hers, but kept hold of her wrists. A little gentle pressure let her know I was the boss here.

  She moaned and shifted beneath me as I continued to circle my face over her breasts. Visions of pulling down the neckline to access her nipples danced through my head, but the dress was too tight for that. Not that I minded. It just left me something more to discover later.

  Continuing down along her body brought me to her kissable belly, and then further still to her thighs. Heat radiated from her and I couldn’t wait to taste everything she had to offer.

  With one hand, I pushed the dress up to expose her underwear. It wasn’t a fancy pair of panties by any means, but the innocence of the blue cotton edged with a scalloped white trim made me smile. When she wasn't trying to be sexy, she was beyond adorable. Maybe I could show her that she was more than a body, that someone called her for more than a taste of pussy.

  That body part, though, was my goal. The way I would show Sara how I felt about her. Shivers worked their way from the outside in and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself.

  “Spread your legs,” I ordered.

  After a long, heart-stopping moment, her body shifted and she followed my command. I’d let her keep the underwear on just in case she needed it. Hoping the waxing mishap wasn’t as bad as she’d indicated, I glided my fingers over the fabric of her underwear. She caught her breath and lifted her hips. No pain, then. Good. Maybe I could lick any lingering discomfort away until she was screaming with ecstasy for me.

  I let my index finger drift along the crease between her thigh and underwear, and then hooked my finger in the fabric to draw it aside. As much as I wanted to delve into her with my tongue, I took my time stroking her. Carefully, I dipped my finger into her. She was sopping wet and tight, and already moaning with what I was certain was need.

  A glance at her face told me I was right. Her mouth was open as her breath huffed in and out, the sweetest pants of pleasure I’d ever heard. God, I wanted her mouth on me, too. I knew if I stripped off my pants and straddled that beautiful face of hers, Sara would give in to my dominance. Her tongue would slip into me, over my skin, and make me writhe atop her. Exactly what I wanted from her. But not just yet.

  I dragged my middle finger against her channel. A tiny whimper escaped between her breaths and she rocked her hips into my hand, trying to get my finger to go deeper.

  “You’re perfect,” I whispered. “Why don’t you look and see how perfect you are?”

  She lifted herself up on her elbows and I drew back enough to watch my finger disappear inside her. Another moan came from her parted lips, an indication of how good I was making her feel. Every inch of her face and chest was flushed with desire. Her gaze fell to watch me work my finger in and out of her greedy pussy. Watching her watch me made it that much hotter.

  “No pain? Everything is okay?” She nodded, so I asked another question. “Do you like that?” Again, a wordless nod, as if she didn’t dare speak. “Good. I want you out of this dress and laying down for me.”

  Somehow, I kept my hand where it was, stroking and caressing her supple flesh, while we worked together to unzip the back of her dress. It looked lovely on her and it looked even better half-off. When the straps cleared her arms and chest, she glanced at me through her eyelashes.

  “I can’t take it all the way off if you’re...”

  “That’s okay.” I jutted my chin at her and said, “The bra goes next.”

  Her chest heaved as if in anticipation, as she unclasped the white undergarment. For a moment, I saw her breasts, large and ready to be touched. When she lay back down on the bed, they shifted exactly the way they ought to, a bit to each side.

  My gaze honed in on her hard, pink nipples. They needed to be in my mouth, so I leaned forward and licked one, then the other. All the time I kept fingering her, alternating licking and sucking at her now-bared breasts. Each of her whimpers etched itself on my memory. I hoped this was the first of many more similar memories.

  I circled her wet clit with my thumb and brushed my tongue over her nipples one more time. If it was possible, I would stay here all day, devouring her. But I still had so much to explore. Only if she wanted it...

  Before I hit my knees, I looked back at her, waiting for the permission I needed. Even though she’d already given it to me, I wanted to be sure this was what Sara wanted.

  She batted her eyelashes and lifted her hips. “Oh my god, get down there,” she said in one rushed breath.

  Perfect. I continued moving my fingers in and on her. She was so close. I could tell by the way her body tensed and I couldn’t wait to taste her ecstasy.

  In one practiced motion, I replaced my thumb with my tongue, and buried a second finger inside her. She raised her hips as I sucked on her clit. A woman’s way of demanding orgasm. I loved it, but I also wanted to make it last. With my free hand, I pushed down on her thighs to pin her to the bed. No way was she going to get herself off with my mouth. It was my job to make her come for me.

  “You jerk,” she moaned and pushed at the top of my head. “Let me come.”

  I would when I was good and ready. She tasted amazing, honeyed, like she must eat ice cream and cupcakes all the time. I’d have to find a way to ask her about that, without making her think I was inquiring about her diet. All women tasted good in their own way, but there was something different about Sara, a sweetness that permeated her in all ways.

  Her body tensed against me and I knew that unless I stopped now, she was going to orgasm. So I gave it to her, rubbing the inside of her pussy with both fingers, while I fastened my mouth over her clit. I let go of her thigh, giving her the freedom to move.

  Each of Sara’s yells of pleasure echoed around my room. Her entire body stiffened and she fucked herself with my fingers and mouth. Her body gripped my fingers and her hands curled against my head to hold me in place. That’s right, get it.

  I loved how her orgasm went on and on, a never ending explosion of bliss. Even more, I loved knowing I’d done that to her.

  Sara finally relaxed, totally spent, breathing hard, her eyes closed tightly. After the spasms stopped, I slipped my fingers out of her and drew back. Knowing how sensitive she was, I still couldn’t help but lick her wet slit. The taste was even better when I drove my tongue into her.

  She shuddered and blew out a loud breath. When I licked her from the bottom all the way up to her clit in one stroke, she muttered, “You n-need to st-stop.”

  “Do I? I don’t see why. You taste incredible.”

  “Show me.” It was, quite possibly, the sexiest thing any woman had ever asked me to do. I covered her body with mine again and came face to face with her. When we kissed, her tongue traced my lips. After she’d tasted herself to her heart’s content, she drew back and smiled at me.

  I stroked her face. “You’re so responsive. I like that you just let go.”

  “It’s your turn to let go, Dylan.” She licked her lips in invitation. “Let me return the favor.”

  “I don’t know...“ What I’d offered at the restaurant was to make her feel good, not me. I still wanted to take this slow. Granted, we’d already had sex, but I didn’t want her to feel like she had to reciprocate. My body begged to
differ. My underwear clung uncomfortably between my legs, a stark reminder that I needed her to give as good as she got.

  She pouted and said, “Please let me fuck you.” Blunt, to the point, and practically begging for it. I couldn’t say no again, not when I wanted it so badly.

  I stood, unzipped my pants, and shoved them to the floor, along with my bothersome underwear. Almost the moment I straddled her head, her tongue thrust inside me. I couldn’t help but tangle my fingers in her curls and buck against her mouth. When I looked down, all I saw were her beautiful blue eyes staring back up at me.

  Without even thinking about it, I pushed myself down against her sweet face and rocked my hips. Her tongue remained inside me, licking as if she couldn’t get enough. There was no way I could go on much longer, not exactly the way things usually went for me with other women. My legs went weak as I watched her face while her mouth worked its magic. There was no holding back my release as I gasped and clutched her hair to keep my balance. My hips jerked back and forth, rubbing me all over Sara’s luminous face.

  Only the two of us existed in that moment. Every other thought was wiped out by the connection we shared.

  When I finally caught my breath, the first thing I noticed was how tightly my fingers were laced through her curls. I let go and moved to lay down next to her. Her lips glistened. I was all over her, a marking I didn’t want her to wash away yet.

  “That was incredible,” I finally said when I found my voice. “I wish I could have held out longer, but you’re so sexy. I think I’ve been wet for you all night.”

  A huge smile stretched across her satisfied face. “I tried. Given your experience with women, I’d say that’s a pretty big compliment.”

  “I’m serious.” I kissed her bare shoulder. “You’re amazing and other women don’t matter. You’re the only one on my mind tonight.”