Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set

by Carolina Moon

  Scooting up in the bed, she reached to take the tray from him. "Thanks, this looks delicious. I'm not sick, though. Just...tired, I suppose." It was true. She was tired of fighting her feelings, her hopes, and his constant presence in her thoughts.

  "OK, well. Good enough. Stay in bed and have some soup. I’ve got to take off early this afternoon, unless you have something pressing for me to attend to…I’ve got to drive into Chicago.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Anything to get him out of here. Wait. That sounded really rude. “Business or pleasure?” she asked, as Tiffany flashed through her mind.

  He grinned. “I’m not sure how to answer that…I’m taking Tiffany home.”

  Blair raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes to hide the wince that came when he said her name. “That would be pleasure then, wouldn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Ha! I told Beth! I told her you thought I was dating Tiffany! That’s why you left in such a mood the other day!”

  Blair bit her lip and looked at him suspiciously. “Well, aren’t you? She seems like your type….”

  He snorted. “Thanks a lot. In case you haven’t been paying attention for the last several years, I’ve learned that women like Tiffany – and Maria – are definitely not my type. Tiffany is one of our investors’ daughters. He asked that I show her around town, since he and his wife are thinking about buying her a house here.”

  Blair felt her eyebrow shoot up again. “Somehow, I get the impression that she wouldn’t like that.”

  “She’s gotten kicked out of three colleges and won’t hold down a job for more than six weeks. They think she needs to learn a lesson.” He paused for a beat. “I can’t believe you thought I would go for someone like that.”

  She shrugged. “Well…you did the last time. And all I know is that she’s sparkly and pretty and fashionable…and tiny.” She dropped her gaze. That last word twisted her heart, just a bit, but she didn’t want him to see.

  He shook his head and took her hand, but didn’t speak until she looked up and into his eyes. “And she’s spoiled and whiny and easily distracted – like a puppy. Come on, Blair. Give me a little credit.”

  Blair wasn’t sure how she felt about this new information. It didn’t affect her, really, but she was glad that Randy wasn’t falling for a pretty face again. He had treated Maria like a queen, and it had only gotten him hurt. He deserved better.

  She squeezed his hand. “I’ll try. For the record, I’m glad you aren’t…. You know. With her, I mean. I just assumed, because you looked so happy when you showed up this morning….” She didn’t seem to be able to finish a sentence. “Just go. I’ll see you when you get back, OK? Be safe.”

  He stood, bent over, and gave her a hug, narrowly avoiding the bowl of soup. “OK. And when I get back, we’ve got a few things to talk about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like why I looked so happy this morning. It had nothing to do with Tiffany, for the record.” With that, he was gone.

  She got up, took her tray to the kitchen, and headed for the bathroom. A hot bath. She felt suddenly shaky, and a bath was the only way she knew to soothe herself. Her nerves seemed to be permanently shot these days, actually, and she had no idea what to do about it, besides wait until Randy was finished and gone from her farm…and her life.

  As she settled into the hottest water she could stand, she thought about just how badly she was going to miss his presence when he was done, especially now that winter was rolling in. She loved this time of year so much, but always felt sad that she really didn’t have anyone to share it with. Oh, well. She had survived on her own for a long time; she would be fine this year, too.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a racket coming from the front of the house. She jumped out of the tub and grabbed a towel just as the bathroom door crashed opened. She screamed.

  “Blair!” Randy yelled. “It’s me. Stop it!”

  She blinked. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were gone! Jerk! You scared the hell out of me!”

  Her heart was pounding, trying to process the adrenaline that was coursing through her at the moment. She grabbed up the only thing she could reach – a washcloth – and threw it at him.

  He caught it and let it drop to the floor with a chuckle. Then, in one swift, smooth motion, he stepped forward and caught her up in a bear hug, towel and all. She squealed.

  “What are you doing?” she screeched when she felt her feet leave the floor. “Put me down!”

  “No.” His voice was matter of fact, very close to her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck, and the strength in his arms rippled across her body. Giving her a little toss, he slipped one arm under her knees and carried her to the bedroom.

  “Put me down! Right now!” Her first thought was that he felt very good. Her second thought was that he wasn’t supposed to be here. Her third thought was that he felt very, very good. She shook it off. “You’re supposed to be in Chicago!”

  He didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge that she was talking. He carried her across the bedroom, which was growing darker as the sun went down, and sat on the bed, keeping her tightly in his arms.

  “Randy, what are you doing?”

  He still didn’t answer right away. He took his time, adjusting them both on the bed so that they were comfortable. She was still in his lap, though. Finally, he said, “I called her parents to come get her. I couldn't leave. It’s time to set some things straight, Blair.”

  “Like what?” she breathed. He was so sexy, and he smelled so good, that she had a hard time concentrating all of a sudden.

  Instead of explaining, he kissed her. Lightly at first, barely brushing her lips, and then as she responded, more deeply, pulling her to him and crushing his mouth against hers. His hot, sweet tongue probed between her lips, demanding access and response. Feeling helpless to do otherwise, she purred and returned his kisses; she had pushed him away before, but she wasn’t strong enough to do it again and didn't even want to try. She would take what he offered, no matter how much it hurt in the long run.

  She felt her towel slip and fall to the floor and reached for it, but he wouldn’t let her move. Her face flushed. The last time – so long ago – that he had seen her naked, she had been lithe and sleek and slender. She wondered what he was thinking….

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Don’t cover yourself. I can’t stand it.” He used a foot to kick the towel across the room, then turned his eyes back to her.

  She was afraid his gaze, when it focused on her, would betray distaste, but all she saw was…hunger...so potent and raw that it made her gasp. He looked like he wanted to devour every bit of her right then and there. No one had ever looked at her that way. No one had ever caused her breath to catch in her throat or caused her eyes to widen and then close as he captured her mouth again.

  She melted into him, felt the warmth of his body against hers, and then the hardness of him below that, pressing into her urgently. She groaned out the surge of heat that rushed through her, making her ache with the need to be filled.

  He heard her and responded by trailing one brown hand across her pale shoulder, letting it dip to her breast and cup there, squeezing gently. She moaned again and arched forward, offering herself. The heat roiling between them threatened to overtake her, and she gasped once more. He slowly brushed his hands across her body, then gently lifted her from his lap and placed her back against the soft pillows of her bed.

  She looked at him, knowing that there were questions in her eyes, but didn’t say anything. Her body hummed with desire, but she wanted him to set the pace – wanted him to be sure that he wanted her. No regrets.

  He didn’t go far. He simply sat up, towering over her, and let his fingers continue to flutter across her hair, face and throat. She shivered.

  Finally, he said, “We have to set things straight, Blair.”

  She nodded, concentrating on his touch instead of his words, until he placed a finger under he
r chin, pulled her gaze to his, and said, "I've lied to you.”

  *

  Blair felt her heart drop, and a chill ran through her. She backed away from him, scooting up against the headboard and grabbing a pillow to clutch over her nakedness. At that moment, she realized something - even though she had told herself that she could walk away and survive the hurt, deep down she had allowed hope to flame. Damn.

  It had been too good to be true, just as she suspected in her saner moments, and she was stupid for getting her hopes up.

  So what had he lied about? His desire for her? Or maybe his relationship with Tiffany? Or maybe even Maria. Was his ex-wife coming back? She looked at him accusingly, the pain inside of her threatening to spill out in tears.

  He scooted closer, trying to chase her, talking fast. “Please hear me out. I didn’t want to lie…I just didn’t know how else to get to you. You’re a very independent woman, Blair, and you keep your guard up. Nobody really gets close to you, and after our past…situation…I knew that you’d be on guard against me, especially.”

  “What is it, Randy? Spit it out, please, so that I can get mad, throw you out and get back to my life. This…” she waved a hand, “….this sucks, and it hurts.”

  Her words were laced with a raw honesty that scratched her throat, and she knew that any minute, she was going to cry.

  “I’m sorry. So very sorry, baby…”

  He reached to gather her into his arms again, but she put a hand up on his wonderful warm chest and stopped him. “Just say it. And I’m not your baby.”

  He nodded and backed off, but still didn’t leave her bed. “I lied to you. I didn’t need the job, and I didn’t need the money. In fact, I’ve got it in an envelope in the truck, if you want it back.”

  “What? Why would you…?” It made no sense. Of course he needed money…she and the rest of the town had seen his troubles with Maria. She shook her head.

  “I lied because I wanted to get to know you again, and like I said, nobody can really get close to you.”

  “I date….”

  “Yes, until your boyfriend gets too close or too serious, and then you’re gone. I've seen you do it. I didn’t want that.”

  She felt confused; distressed. “Then what did you want, Randy? Why the elaborate ruse? The weeks of hard work here? I don’t understand.” Even as she spoke, she felt the last thin veneer of protection around her heart melt away. Now, she didn’t even have the excuse of ‘business relationship’ to keep him at arms’ length.

  “When Maria left, I had a few weeks to stop pouting and take a hard look back on our marriage. The first thing I realized was that we had both gotten tired of the relationship almost as soon as it was cemented. The second thing I realized was that, well, I missed you."

  Blair rolled her eyes. "Nobody wants to be the second choice, Randy. I wasn't mooning over you, and it's insulting that you think I should. I-"

  He held up a hand. "No, no...You don't understand. You weren't second choice, Blair. You were my first choice - you've always been my first choice...but I was afraid of you."

  She snorted. "Of me? Honestly, Randy, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

  "Why? You are a strong, beautiful, and accomplished woman. You don't need anyone. Maria was so young - she needed me..." He threw up his hands. "Oh, hell. I don't know if I can explain it. Just know this: I'm not stupid, and I made sure that Maria couldn't get her hands on my ranch or my income before we divorced. I don't need extra money. I came to you because I want you. That's all. If I had to lie to you in order to get closer to you again, I would. And did. I'm sorry about that, but it's true."

  She took a moment to process his words. What he said, the way he'd been acting, suddenly made a lot of sense. Except for one thing. "If you didn't...weren't with...Tiffany last night, then why were you so happy this morning? You said you would explain...?"

  He grinned. "Because of you, woman. You stormed away so fast yesterday that I knew you were furious. Which only meant one thing."

  "What?"

  "That you were also jealous. That's why I was so happy this morning. You still care for me, and that makes me happier than all the Tiffanies in the world." He looked so smug that she couldn't help but giggle.

  He moved to touch her again, and this time she let him. It was scary, and she had no idea if she was making a mistake, but his words and his beautiful eyes were drawing her in.

  He pulled her to him and then pushed her gently down on the bed once more. She felt his hands travel across her shoulders and arms, then across to cup her breasts, making her gasp and arch into him. A tiny moan escaped her.

  "Look at me," he whispered. "Please."

  She did. She looked into his eyes as his mouth dropped down to claim hers, and she saw promises there. Warm, wonderful sexy promises that took her breath away. But then his kisses grew more urgent, and she closed her eyes again.

  His lips trailed from her mouth to the base of her throat and then farther, stopping to tease her nipple with the tip of his tongue. Sparks fluttered through her body, and she tangled her hands in his hair. It had been so long, and she had waited for this.... "Hurry," she whispered. "I need you."

  He heard the urgency in her voice and quickly moved lower, along her belly to her mound, and probed there with his tongue to flick at her clitoris. She pushed up against him and he used his hands to spread her thighs further, allowing him access to all of her. It felt to her as if the imprint of his hands were burned permanently into her skin, especially when he scooped them underneath to her soft globes and lifted her to him.

  His tongue trailed along and within her crease, finally sinking into her depths. She breathed out a harsh sigh and arched upward, trying to grind against him, wanting more, aching for him to fill her. He understood and released her, then stood to take of his clothes.

  She could see the smolder in his dark eyes and watched lustfully as he shed his shirt, revealing first the skim of curly dark hair that she had been aching to touch for weeks, and then his long, muscled legs. She licked her lips.

  Her hands grasped for him as he climbed back onto the bed and paused above her, and she reached down to take his thick length into her hands. it was his turn to groan.

  "Oh, Blair," he growled from deep in his chest, "God, woman, you drive me crazy. Do you know how often I've thought of you, pictured you like this?"

  "Me, too. Hurry," she said again - it was all she could say - and spread her legs up and around him. He plunged into her, strong and swift, and her soft muscles clamped down along his shaft. It was more than either of them could stand and he began to thrust into her with abandon, hard and fast, until she screeched out her orgasm. His followed soon after, and she felt him jerk inside of her and with one final thrust, he roared out his release.

  He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder and they held together, panting, until her heartbeat began to return to normal and she could speak. "That was wonderful," she breathed, and felt him nod against her neck. After a moment, he rolled over, off of her, but didn't get up or move away. Instead, he draped an arm across her middle and pulled her in to snuggle against his chest, where she could feel his heartbeat.

  "I want more of that, Blair. A lifetime of it. Can we do that?"

  She nodded, biting her lip to hold back happy tears. "Yes, please. Me, too."

  The Sound of Her Voice

  I was in the storage room sorting books to go on the shelves when the bell over the door tinkled to alert me that a customer had just entered my store, The Book Alley. Remembering that Maggie, my assistant, wouldn’t be in until later that day, I dropped the last box of books onto the table and started toward the door.

  With my hand on the knob, I took a moment to make sure I looked halfway decent. The full-length mirror on the back of the door revealed slacks that fit my curvy hips and thighs just a little too snugly and a blouse a little too full at the top. I’m never happy with my appearance! With a frustrated sigh, I buttoned the top button of my
blouse for what seemed like the tenth time that morning pushed the door open and walked out into the shop.

  As I moved quietly through the book stacks toward the front of the shop, I didn’t see anyone at first. Then I rounded a corner and realized that someone, a man, was looking at a display near the front window. Just before I opened my mouth to welcome the customer to my store, I realized who he was. My breath caught in my throat and I wanted to run back to my peaceful, solitary job in the storage room. Or just slip out the back door, go home and hide under the covers. I wanted to be anywhere but there alone with him.

  Suddenly the man turned and spotted me. “Hi, beautiful,” Nick Pearson said, turning on that dazzling smile that lights up the whole room.

  Too late. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.

  “Hi, Nick,” I said. My voice was steady, not betraying my thundering heart. I pretended to straighten books on a nearby shelf just to give my shaking hands something to do.

  He crossed the store in just a few strides and ended up standing right behind me, so close I could feel his breath on my ear. “Just wanted to stop by before the book signing tonight and see if you needed anything,” he continued.

  I didn’t have to look to know that those dark, flirty eyes were scanning my body just like they always did, taking in everything, giving away nothing. The scent of his cologne teased my nose making it difficult to think. “No, no. I think I’m good. So you’ll get here around 5:00?”

  Finally, I turned to face him and his gaze slowly moved upward to my face. Had I been the tall, leggy model type I’d always dreamed of being, we would have been almost nose to nose. Instead, I was looking up at him, my breasts almost touching his chest. I took a small step backward and ended up tight against a bookcase.

  “Or sooner if you need me…” He gave me a sexy wink, letting that gesture finish the sentence for him.

  Nick was wearing his usual outfit, a t-shirt and jeans, that made him look more like a college student than the mature, 30-something respected author of more than 20 books. The fabric of that shirt was stretched tightly across his barrel chest and broad shoulders. I didn’t dare look down at the jeans!