Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance

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Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance Page 2

by River Laurent


  “Oh,” Sasha wrinkled her nose up. “Doesn’t sound much like your kind of thing.”

  “It’s not.” I shook my head at her. “But she’s going through a break-up and I want to help her out, you know?”

  “And where was she when you split up with…what was his name?” Sasha called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She was the only person who could get away with just turning up at my house and treating it like she owned the place.

  I followed her into the kitchen. “Yeah, okay, whatever,” I said following her into the kitchen and waving my hand at her. I didn’t want to think too hard on the fact that she was right. Eleanor hadn’t been there for me when I’d split up with my ex, Frank, eighteen months ago. She just didn’t deal well with the big dramatic stuff, she’d told me, and she’d been convinced that what I needed was time and space to heal myself. I was sure what I needed was support from my best friend, but I was too gutted to do much more than loll around the flat feeling sorry for myself.

  She started to fill the kettle. “Do you want a cup?”

  I shook my head.

  “Let’s get a look at this dress, then.” She put the kettle on and herded me back to my small living room. “See if I can bring it in for you.”

  “Okay, let me get into it.” I quickly threw on the dress once more, and spread my hands out and did a twirl. “What do you think?”

  I saw the furrow in her brow before she could cover it up. “Hmmm….” She pressed her lips together.

  “It’s not good, is it?” I muttered, my suspicions confirmed as I plucked at the blue fabric of the dress. It was hard to see if something really suited you in those narrow mirrors shops had in the changing rooms. Now I was sure the dress made me look like a beached whale.

  She shook her head and got to her feet, and began to rummage in her handbag.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, walking over to the full length mirror I had in the hallway. God, I looked huge.

  “I’m seeing if I have my sewing kit with me,” she replied absently, and then I heard her go, “Aha!”

  “Do you think you can rescue it?” I asked, shifting back and forth in front of the mirror.

  “They don’t call me golden fingers for nothing at work.”

  I glanced at the clock. “I don’t have that much time, though. El is coming to pick me up at six thirty.”

  “You go for your shower.” She waved her hand airily. “Leave this thing with me. I’ll have it looking fantastic in no time.”

  “You don’t have to-”

  “But I want to,” she cut me off firmly, the way only she could. She waved her hand again. “Come on, you, out of here.”

  I did as I was told. I headed straight through to the shower to get myself looking passable for the evening. There were serious upsides to having a sister who worked as a dressmaker, not least the almost magical power she had of turning the worst, most hideous clothes into something really special.

  I got out of the shower, blow-dried my hair into soft waves down my back, then I applied mascara and lipstick the best way I knew how. I emerged from the bedroom in my bra and panties and saw Sasha putting the finishing touches on the dress.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed, with widened eyes. The dress was practically unrecognizable.

  She glanced up at me with an excited grin, the same one she always had on her face when she knew that she had pulled something big off.

  “I knew when I was looking at it that there was something special in here somewhere,” she blurted out, talking quickly. “The color suits you so much and the cut was good, it just needed a little coaxing. Anyway, try it on. Be careful with the stitching, it’s a little delicate.”

  “Yeah, just what I need, the whole thing coming apart in front of a crowd full of people,” I teased, but took the dress gingerly from her and looked down at it. A big grin passed over my face as I looked up at her.

  “Thanks for this,” I murmured. “It really means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not letting my little sister go out on the town looking like crap.” She got to her feet. “I’m a dressmaker, how would that reflect on me?”

  “Fair point,” I conceded.

  “Now, hurry up and get it on. I’m dying to make that cup of tea I never had.”

  Chapter 4

  Madison

  I slipped the dress carefully over my head and Sasha zipped me into it.

  It fit like a dream. I could tell that before I even looked at myself. I thought it had fit well enough before, but this was the difference between a dress that could get over my body and a dress that actually enhanced what I had on show.

  “How do I look?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Go see for yourself.”

  I walked over to the mirror and my jaw dropped.

  She had cut a low neckline into the dress, low enough that I seemed to have magicked up a huge dollop of cleavage from nowhere. She had nipped the dress in around the waist because it made it seem as if I actually had a waist. She had taken up the hemline too. It now came down to just above my knees, and the way it clung to my thighs was borderline scandalous. Well, one thing was for sure, she had effectively made it impossible for me to use this as a work dress. There was no way I was going to be wearing this to any job interviews anytime soon. Unless it was for a very specific type of job.

  I twisted back and forth in front of the mirror, taking myself in, and then finally stepped into my only good pair of heels that I owned, black and with a bow that tied around the ankles. Okay, I actually looked pretty good. A smile spread over my face as I looked myself up and down, and I tried to remember why I didn’t get dressed up to go out like this more often.

  My sister beamed at me. “You look fantastic.”

  “You think?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t know why you don’t dress like this more often instead of slouching around in those shapeless things you wear.” She came over and started fluffing about with the hem. “I knew I could do something with this thing. You really do look amazing, Madison.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for this. I really needed this tonight.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine,” she replied, and I knew immediately she was referring to Eleanor. She had never much liked her, but I tried not to let it get in the way of my relationships with either of them. I told myself Sasha was just protective, but sometimes I wondered if there really was something in Eleanor she needed to protect me from.

  Sasha went off to make her tea and I spent a little more time preening myself, making sure my lipstick was perfect and throwing back a bottle of water to make sure that however much I had to drink tonight it wouldn’t leave me with too brutal a hangover the next day. A couple of minutes before half six, there was a knock on the door.

  “Oh, that’ll be Eleanor.” I jumped to my feet, and wobbled on my heels and had to catch the arm of the sofa. God, I was just not good at these dangerous things. I could have broken my neck back there.

  I buzzed her in, and opened the door to find myself face to face with Eleanor in her full-glamour mode. She looked damn good, in a short, sparkly silver sheath dress that was practically blinding me even in the dim lighting of the hall outside my apartment. Add to the fact that her heels were high and her hair was teased out and huge, it made her virtually impossible to miss, even from miles away. Which would be a good thing, if she intended to catch the eye of the Subway guy.

  The only thing that wasn’t shining about her was the frown marring her forehead as she cast her gaze over me. I felt my mouth go a little dry as she looked me up and down.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Your dress,” she blurted out.

  “Don’t you like it?” I struck a pose playfully, but she didn’t seem overly amused.

  She brushed past me and into the apartment. “Is that the same dress?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. There was that furrow in her brow again, letting me know that someh
ow I’d done something wrong.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, and pointed to the kitchen where Sasha was still rumbling about. “Sasha did a little work on it for me. I think it looks nice. Don’t you like it?”

  “It just looks a little…” she trailed off, giving me a long look up and down once more.

  Sasha emerged from the kitchen, and her lips tightened when she saw that Eleanor was already there.

  “It just looks a little tarty, that’s all,” she finally finished up, and I felt my cheeks flood with heat at her words.

  “I can go change into something else,” I suggested, my chin dropping in embarrassment.

  “I think you should. Go on then. Quickly.”

  “No fucking way,” Sasha said firmly, shooting some serious daggers in the direction of Eleanor. “You look fantastic, and I worked too hard on that for you not to go out in it now.”

  “Fine,” Eleanor sighed, tossing her hair over one shoulder as though this was the biggest inconvenience she could imagine. “You don’t have time to change anyway, the taxi’s already waiting outside.”

  I gave Sasha another quick hug. “See you soon, okay?”

  “I’ll lock up before I leave.,” she replied, throwing another venomous glance at Eleanor. “Have a good night.”

  Her words were barbed even if they seemed innocent, and I knew that they were aimed at Eleanor and not me. I got where she was coming from. Sometimes, I felt as though I wanted someone who called herself my friend to treat me with a little more respect, but I knew that she had been through a lot these last few weeks so I couldn’t expect too much from her.

  We headed out to the taxi.

  Chapter 5

  Madison

  Eleanor wasn’t saying much, eyes fixed on some point out the window, not bothering to even glance over at me. I tugged the hem of my dress down and frowned. Was it because I had gotten all dressed up? Did she think I looked better than her or something? I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been so enthusiastic about that dress because she’d known that it was quite dowdy and would make her appear even more splendid, but now that I’d actually turned the heat up a little she didn’t like it one bit. Which kind of surprised me, how could I steal her thunder. She was by far more attractive than me.

  We arrived and picked up the tickets that Eleanor had booked on-line. I looked at the price on my ticket and gulped. That could feed me for nearly two weeks. She must have bought the best tickets in the house. We headed towards the entrance doors. The foyer was packed-out with people, the vast majority of them women, and the place was crackling with a tension that I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before in my life.

  “Holy shit, this place is packed,” I yelled to Eleanor over the sound of the crowd.

  She glanced over at me and finally a smile appeared on her face, and I felt a wave of relief hit me, as she seemed to actually be having a good time after all.

  “Yeah, well, he’s not going to see anyone but me,” she replied, pointing up to the enormous billboard that showed off a giant, blown-up picture of Chad Weston. His eyes were lowered to the ground, but his body spoke for itself, and I felt a little flutter in my chest as I took him in. I had never been one for guys who were hot in that really showy, obvious way but he was…hell, he was something else entirely, and I had to admit it was doing it for me.

  We were jostled around on our way to the front of the queue, but finally, we made our way into the theatre and took our seats. Even in the dark, the place was bathed with a warm pink lighting that made my heart beat a little faster. It looked like we were heading for the front row. So he could see Eleanor, no doubt, or at least that had to be what was going through her mind.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked Eleanor again, suddenly nervous for what was about to come.

  She glanced over at me, brow furrowed with annoyance. “Of course, I am. Come on, sit down, you’re in everyone’s way.”

  I took my seat and my heart fluttered when I realized that he would likely be able to see me, too, and I was suddenly glad that Sasha had worked her magic on this dress. I wanted to look good tonight, wanted to look really good, wanted to look better than anyone had seen me before.

  It must have been the atmosphere pulsing through the room that had me thinking that way, because I had never felt anything like it before as long as I’d lived. It was like a hen night turned up to twenty, to a thousand times more intense. All these women talking and giggling and occasionally bursting out into little shrieks of excited laughter, as though they could barely keep inside how badly they wanted this. I glanced over at Eleanor, smiling, hoping that she would give me some of that same connection, but she was sitting there staring at the stage with a slight frown on her face. She was probably coming up with a game plan inside her head that didn’t include me. I glanced around at the groups of friends laughing and talking and knocking back gulps of their cocktails, and wondered where I had gone wrong that I was missing out on that part of the evening right now.

  Suddenly, the house lights lowered, and Eleanor tapped excitedly on my knee, then cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a long whoop, one that blended in with all the rest of the noise coming out of the audience. The excitement in the air was palpable, and I found my heart start beating faster too. I was actually getting into it and couldn’t wait to see what this evening had to bring.

  “Ladies…” A loud, cheesy voice boomed from the speakers around the venue. “Welcome to…The Man Up Project!”

  The rest of what he was saying was drowned out in a series of shrieks of excitement, and I had to grin as the curtain ran up and revealed the men waiting for us behind it. There were at least a dozen of them. I didn’t have the time or inclination to count, but they were all moving as though they were in total and utter control of their bodies, totally calm, totally controlled, totally, totally, totally hot. And all of them were stripped to the waist, showing off their insane bodies, sculpted abs and strong arms and bulging pecs.

  I scanned the stage to see where the leading man was hiding himself, but I couldn’t make him out.

  Maybe they saved him for later. It was hard to focus, given the music pulsing out of the speakers and the noise of the crowd. Most of them were on their feet, but Eleanor was still sitting down, as though she hoped that being different might be what attracted the attention of the Subway fame, when he finally arrived, that was.

  Still, I wasn’t going to sit around having a miserable old time just because she wasn’t ready to have fun yet and, taking even myself by surprise, I got to my feet and began swaying my hips back and forth a little to the music. It felt good, really good. There was a whoop from right behind me and I turned around to find the woman in the seat behind ours giving me the thumbs-up. I grinned and flashed her the same sign back. Then I quickly turned my attention back to the stage where the men were dancing, in perfect harmony to the same pulsing beat of the retro dance track that was blasting out over the speakers.

  That song came to an end, and the stage was dipped into blackness once more; the audience quieted, as though sensing that something good was about to happen.

  At last, when the atmosphere in the room could be cut with a knife, he emerged.

  Chapter 6

  Madison

  There was no need for me to squint to second-guess who he was. Even without getting a proper look at him, I knew this had to be the main man. The lights were so low that I could barely make him out, but he had this presence about him. The way he strode onto that stage through the piles of men in front of him let everyone in that theatre know that he was the one in charge, that it was him they needed to watch out for.

  As he stood there on stage, I stared at him, taking him in, unable to tear my eyes away from him. He was fully-dressed but somehow, despite the gorgeous half-naked men around him, he was the only thing in the world that mattered to me and, for a split second, I was sure I saw him looking back at me.

  My heart jittered to a stop in my chest as our eyes met.


  Then he lowered his gaze once more, just as he did on the poster, and took his position at the center of the stage. The moment was broken, that moment that had passed between us, where I had been sure that there had been that flicker of something real and raw and divine in that look he gave me.

  The silence around the room continued for another long moment. Then, as the lights came up, so did the noise. I realized that I had been holding in a breath, and let it out with a long gasp.

  His head snapped up and he faced the crowd for the first time, and the women’s screams reached crescendo pitch. The atmosphere in the room was incredible, indescribable. Even Eleanor got to her feet. I supposed the sight of him here in real life in front of her was enough to get her to forget any games she might have had and just go for it.

  The way he moved was something different to the rest of the guys who had opened the show. Sure, they hit their marks alongside him, just the same way he did, but he oozed a kind of unique confidence and charisma, the kind of thing you couldn’t learn with practice. He moved his body like he knew how much everyone in that room wanted him, something that I couldn’t relate to. I had always felt a little out-of-place in my own body, and I longed for the kind of confidence that he seemed to own so effortlessly.

  Eleanor moved like she was starting the seduction right there and then, and I pressed my lips together and tried not to judge her too harshly for it. She had just been through a break-up, after all, and I shouldn’t take whatever she was going through too seriously. Everyone needed some space to relax and blow off some steam. Maybe even me.

  After the first song was done, the lights fell low again, the only spotlight was on him. I grinned up at him from where I was standing, and I was sure that he looked down at me once more. I felt myself flush a bright red as soon as his eyes were on me, and embarrassed I glanced away at once. There was just something unbelievably erotic about having him look at me like that.

 

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