Secret Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 5)

by Marysol James

  “If you gain weight, your whole life isn’t going to spiral out of control,” he said quietly. “Not this time.”

  “How do you know?” she faltered.

  “Because I know you, baby, and I know you’re strong enough to lose control. To just let things happen, to be able to go on even when you’re surprised by life and people. You can let things go, Tessa, you can let people go. You can be hurt, and used, and even left behind, and you’re strong enough for all of that to happen. You’ll survive it all, and you won’t hurt or punish yourself while you do it. Not anymore.”

  She thought about that, then she bit her lip.

  “I – I almost made myself throw up,” she admitted. She was sure he’d be disappointed in her, but she wanted to be totally honest with this man. “I panicked so much, and all I could think to do to regain control over something. Over what I ate, how many calories I consumed. Over – over my body, even just a little bit.”

  “But you didn’t make yourself sick, did you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t. I knew that it wouldn’t help. Not really.”

  “Good.” His hands were slow and gentle on her, belying his inner tension and horror at what she’d just said. Fuck, he’d been twenty feet away looking for sugar, and she’d been in here all alone, losing it. She’d needed him, and he’d barely gotten there in time. “Next time you start to feel that way, you call for me. You promise?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  “OK, then.” He drew back from her, really took in the fact that she was naked under her towel. “Did you look at yourself in the mirror?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When? Before or after you weighed yourself?”

  She paused. “Both.”

  “And did you see how fucking gorgeous you are?”

  Tessa was quiet. That was answer enough, and he scowled.

  “Get that towel off,” he said gruffly.

  Automatically, Tessa clutched it closer and tighter around her body. “What?”

  “You heard me. Do it.”

  He was firm on this point, she saw, and her heart sank. When Curtis got it in to his stubborn head that something was going to happen, it was just going to happen. Resistance was futile, protest would fall on deaf ears, evasion was shut down instantly. She swallowed hard, suddenly scared of confronting her naked body again.

  Curtis saw her fear and uncertainty, and he gentled right away. Reminding himself that he’d decided to work on his abrupt, hard-ass negotiation style – actually, my negotiation style is to not negotiate – he reached for her. She came, and he felt nothing but relief.

  “Sorry, sweetness,” he muttered. “That was a dickhead move on my part. I’ve got no right to just boss you around.”

  Tessa smiled at him. “Maybe you could try just asking? Like, nicely? Maybe toss in a ‘please’, and really throw me for a loop?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, alright. Could you please get that towel off?”

  “Yes, I could.” She hesitated, though. “But why?”

  “Because,” he said, his eyes blue flame. “I’m going to show you, once and for all, how fucking beautiful you are.”

  Her breath caught. “Curtis…”

  “You trust me, Tessa?”

  “Yes,” she said instantly.

  “Then, c’mon, baby,” he said, all disarmingly sexy. “Let me show you how stunning and incredible your body really is.”

  Tessa stared at her bare feet for a few seconds. This shy and bashful state was ridiculous, and she knew it. Good God, she’d been stark naked with Curtis for most of the past three days. They’d barely left his bed, and when they’d been in it, they’d had their hands and mouths all over each other. There wasn’t an inch of her body that he hadn’t seen or touched.

  Christ, Tessa. Just get over yourself, yeah?

  She took a deep breath. Dropped the towel to the floor. Dared to look up at him.

  God, that look was back on his face, the one that she’d come to fiercely love, and longed to see. It was an intent focusing on her. Curtis just looked at her, saw her, held her completely whole in his heated gaze. His expression told her that she was beautiful, that he thought she was worth adoring. And as always happened when he looked at her like this, Tessa was immediately, helplessly turned on.

  Curtis spun her unresisting body now. He turned her to the mirror, stood behind her. Their eyes met, and he smiled at her.

  “Look at you, baby,” he said softly. “Look at you.”

  She dropped her eyes to her own reflection now, tried to see what Curtis saw… and she just didn’t. She really couldn’t.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his large body in to her back. Tessa took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes. She so wanted to like herself, she’d wanted it for so fucking long, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever truly thought she was worth much, or worth loving. And the sad, pathetic truth was that she tied all her self-worth up in the size of her thighs, and her ability to maintain rigid, unbending control over her weight. She always had.

  Enough. Just – just fucking enough.

  Curtis rested one hand on her stomach, moved the other to her hip, and she opened her eyes. She watched as he traced the curve of her body with his fingertip.

  “Look at this,” he said to her. “Look at this shape… nothing more stunning than a woman with curves, baby.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He traced the line of her body up to her shoulder, then slid back down to her thigh. “A woman ain’t about hard lines, not for me. She’s all about soft curves, and you? You’ve got ‘em, sweetness.”

  She nodded, watching closely as his hand moved back up her body. He stopped halfway, then slowly traced the shape of her right breast. Tessa gasped, pushed back against him. He grinned now, loving her honest desire, and circled her hardening nipple.

  “Curtis…”

  “Look at yourself.” His voice was husky. “Look at how your body responds to me, baby. How can you not think that’s fucking beautiful?”

  “Oh, God.” She arched her back, pushing herself in to his touch. “It feels so good…”

  “I know,” he said. “And it’s going to feel even better.”

  Both hands were on her breasts now, cupping them, lifting their weight. Rough fingers teased her nipples, tweaking the sensitive peaks gently. Tessa gave a small moan, and dropped her head back on to his broad chest. Good Christ, what this man did to her – it should be illegal.

  “Your skin’s getting flushed,” he whispered in to her ear. “You’re going all pink, and I love it when that happens. It means you’re heating up for me, sweetness… and from what I’ve seen these past few days, you get burning hot all over.”

  She whimpered.

  His right hand moved down her body again, skimming her stomach, moving farther down. He reached her pussy, paused.

  “Are you hot down here, baby?” he said. “You getting all hot and wet for me?”

  “Yes,” she managed to get out.

  “Hmmmm.” Curtis’ throaty murmur made her slick up even more. “I think I need to check.”

  One thick finger slid in to her golden curls, found her clit. He circled it, traced its shape, and Tessa gave a small cry. He stroked her lower lips, up and down, really took his time. Tessa felt her arousal coat his fingers, making them glide more easily over her pulsing, aching sex.

  “Look at yourself,” he said again. “Look at how you just open up to me, baby. You don’t know how much I love seeing you like this… so honest and giving.”

  She shut her eyes, trying to remember to breathe.

  “Don’t do that,” he growled. “You watch me touch you. Watch yourself enjoying it.”

  Her eyes opened, and Curtis smiled at the glowing desire he saw in their depths. She
was moving on his hand now, helping him to find the places where she craved his touch. Her face was bright with pleasure, and his heart squeezed in his chest at her need. She needed something that only he could give her.

  His fingers pushed inside her, slid out, worked their way in again. He started slowly, savoring every moan and gasp and shudder, but as always with Tessa, things got out of control fast. His pace quickened, he pushed deeper and harder, reaching in to her sweet heat, watching her watch him in the mirror. Her shyness and reserve was gone now, and her gaze as fixed on his fingers as they fucked her.

  Tessa gave a long, low moan as his fingers moved in and out of her aching pussy; when his thumb pressed down on her swollen nub with every push in, she gave a scream.

  “Fuck, yes,” Curtis rasped, knowing that she was coming undone. “Let go, Tessa. Let it all go.”

  She raised her eyes to his now, wanting to see him in this moment. The blaze of lust in those blue eyes heightened Tessa’s arousal to fever pitch, and she felt her muscles clench around his fingers. She was coming for him, coming so damn hard. Her legs shook under her, her body jerked uncontrollably, but his arm was securely around her. She knew he wouldn’t let her fall; she knew she was safe to let go. So she did.

  Her orgasm ripped through her, so intense it was bordering on painful. Curtis held her in place, not letting up at all with his fingers, making sure that she experienced every single second of her release. He moved his mouth to her ear, his whisper a harsh command.

  “Look at yourself.”

  And finally, Tessa did. She met her own eyes in the mirror, saw the wild light burning deep in them, moved her bright gaze down her curves. She watched her body writhe, twist, arch; every inch of her body was consumed with pleasure, and she saw it. She saw what Curtis saw, at long last.

  The sight of her wild, beautiful abandon ramped her gently fading, rippling climax back to a roaring wave, and to her utter shock, she was suddenly coming again. Tessa threw her head back this time, her cheek turned in to his hard muscle, her hands gripping his strong forearms, her eyes fluttered shut. She flexed on his plunging, stroking fingers, over and over, her cries loud and almost desperate. Then she slumped, every bone in her body turned to jelly.

  “Oh, baby.” Curtis was stunned. “That was fucking incredible.”

  Her answer was a breathless laugh that ended on a sob. Her head flopped forward, and her legs gave out.

  Curtis turned her in his arms, lifted her. She was limp in his grasp, her head lolling against his chest. For a few seconds, he actually wondered if she’d passed out.

  “Tessa?” he asked as he carried her to the bedroom. “You good?”

  “Ohhhhh,” she groaned. “I’m dead.”

  He relaxed now, gave a laugh as he rested her on the bed. “Perfect.”

  “It was.” She spoke in a soft little voice. She sounded both vulnerable and strong, and he loved hearing and seeing her like this. “It was absolutely perfect.”

  He laid down beside her, and she turned in to his body. They stayed there, holding each other, silent. After a few minutes, Tessa leaned away from him.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For showing you how fucking beautiful you are?”

  “Partly, yeah.”

  “What’s the other part?” he asked, brushing her tumbled hair off her cheeks and forehead.

  “For showing me that I’m enough, just as I am.”

  “Of course you are, Tessa.” His hard, rough voice was as gentle as it ever got. “You always were.”

  And for the first time in her entire life, Tessa really, truly believed it. She could stop chasing some unattainable ideal; she could just breathe, and let go, and be.

  She was enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two weeks later

  Jax glanced up as the door of Curves opened, and he grinned when he saw King standing there.

  “Well, well, well,” Mac drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in, huh?”

  “Hey, man,” Jax greeted him. “Where the hell have you been lately?”

  King strolled over to the bar, nodding at a few regulars as he crossed the room. Aidan was already pulling a beer for him, and by the time King got to the bar and shook hands all around, Aidan set it down in front of him.

  “So,” Aidan prompted him. “How are things?”

  “Good,” King replied and took a sip of beer. “Great, actually.”

  “Yeah?” Aidan said, looking at King carefully. No bruises on his face or hands, no tension in his shoulders. King looked happy and relaxed, and his friends saw it all over him. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, Jensen’s gone almost totally underground lately,” King said. “Ace says that he got his ass kicked so many times, had so much blow up in his goddamn face, he’s opted for radio-silence and near-hibernation. I mean, it’s clear as hell that he’s regrouping, figuring some shit out, but for now, all is calm. No ops at all. My people are going stir-crazy.”

  “So you’ve been taking it easy?” Jax said.

  “Yeah. Spending lots of time with Naomi, making things up to her.”

  The other men grinned, knowing full well just how King was ‘making things up’ to his woman.

  “And she’s letting you…uh… ‘make things up’ to her?” Mac asked.

  King’s eyes sparked. “Mmmm-hmmm.”

  “I’m glad, man,” Aidan said. “You had us all worried there for a while.”

  “Yeah, I know.” King looked around at their relieved faces. “I’m sorry about that, guys. I was a dickhead not to talk to you. I should have, but it was just so – so much. You know? So much shit, so much disturbing crap. I didn’t want to see any of it, and the whole idea of rehashing it over a beer was fucking laughable.”

  “We can see that, Matt,” Jax said quietly. “We’re just glad that you’re back now.”

  Jax’s words echoed Naomi’s, and King started a bit. The fact that two people who cared about him had both used those exact words showed him just how gone he must have been. He must have been a million miles away, and they must have felt so fucking helpless as they stood there. Watching and waiting for him to come back.

  “I am back.” King raised his beer, and Mac and Jax raised theirs too; Aidan hoisted his coffee cup high. “And? I come bearing news.”

  “Yeah?” Jax said. “Good news?”

  “The best.” King grinned, anticipating their reactions. “I asked Naomi to marry me.” He paused. “She said yes.”

  The other men stared at him, stunned. Then, almost as one, they whooped. King was suddenly swarmed by three large guys determined to show their delight in the most overwhelmingly physical ways possible. Mac slapped his shoulder, Jax wrung his hand, and Aidan gave him an enthusiastic high-five. King smiled, a real smile, one that split his face in half.

  “So,” he quipped. “You guys are happy for us?”

  “Happy?” Jax repeated. “Man, we’re fucking thrilled. Me especially… I need another boring married guy around to go bowling with.”

  “Ha!” King huffed. “Like you and me will ever put on rented shoes, Hamill.”

  “Oh, man.” Mac glanced at Aidan. “We’re going down like dominoes, Carter, and if we’re going down in order of commitment, you’re next.”

  Aidan blinked. “That’s… true. Fuck.”

  “Yeah?” King said. “You and Gabi ever talk about it?”

  “No.” Aidan looked uncomfortable now. “We’re still – we’re working through some things.”

  The other men sobered up right away. They hadn’t asked after Gabi in a while, since it had been clear that Aidan hadn’t wanted to talk about any of what had happened to her. Him bringing it up now, though, gave them a green light. Or, more like an amber one: they proceeded with caution.

  “She still having nightmares?” Mac asked qui
etly.

  “Yeah.” Aidan glanced around, spotted Gabi talking to Tessa over by the pool tables. “Sometimes.”

  “And are you two…” Mac trailed off. He was a snarky asshole roughly 99.9% of the time, but some things were no joking matter. “Working through the bedroom stuff?”

  Aidan sighed, poured a few shots of J.D. for a group of college guys standing at the bar. “Slowly. It’s – it’s terrifying for me to touch her sometimes, to get in her space.” He hesitated. “Her biggest fear is to suffocate in the dark, and me even just holding her too tight can send her off in to a fucking tailspin.”

  The other men were silent. They’d tried hard to not imagine what it must have been like for Gabi, to be buried alive. She’d been aware and conscious almost the whole time, fighting panic, and trying to stay in control of her breathing. If she fucking needed time to sleep in pitch-blackness, and to let Aidan crush her under his weight, they saw nothing remotely wrong with that.

  “But you’re sleeping together, right?” Mac said.

  “We are.” Aidan stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “We’re getting there.”

  “Man, when we’re talking about what she has to come back from, ‘getting there’ is pretty damn awesome,” King said. He’d been there when Gabi had been hauled out of the wooden box that so resembled a coffin; he’d seen her down on the ground, unconscious and not breathing, covered in dirt; he’d seen her screaming with panic at being touched. “Time, Aidan. Give her time.”

  “Oh, I am,” Aidan said. “No problem with that.”

  “No?” Jax said.

  “Nuh-uh.” Aidan shook his golden head. “I waited three damn years for that woman, guys. What’s a few months longer?”

  “Nothing,” Mac said, thinking about how long he’d waited for Mirrie. He’d been waiting for her without even knowing it – and he’d waited four years. “For the woman you fucking love, man? It’s the blink of an eye.”

  **

  Curtis stood in his usual place, in his usual position – his back up against the bar wall, his arms crossed – watching Tessa. She was talking to Gabi, and they were almost hysterical with laughter about something. She was fucking glowing, just so damn natural and beautiful, and he found himself smiling too. Seeing her happy made him happy.