Dangerous Curves 2: The Good Girl (A Billionaire and BBW erotica romance)

by Banks, Melody

  “I don’t understand what that has to do with me helping out in the war on obesity.”

  “I just find it curious that you would spend so much time and effort fighting the obesity crisis, which you claim to be doing in the name of health. Yet, if you’re so concerned with health, why are you smoking? And why pick obesity – a subject you admittedly know nothing about – as your project? If you truly just want to help out with the health of America, there are more opportunities than just helping the overweight.”

  I was really crossing a line now, and I knew it. The kinds of questions I was asking her could potentially get me fired – but on some level, I didn’t care.

  Darlean Donovan might have a perfectly flat stomach, that much was true. But, by her own admission, she had done absolutely nothing to get a killer body. It was her genetics, not her lifestyle, that made her 5'10 and a size 2.

  This was a pet peeve of mine, something that had bugged me for many years.

  It had bugged me all throughout grade school and high school while I listened to countless fat jokes and insults, all of them backed up by the claim of, “I’m just concerned about your health.” Or, the equally absurd, “I just want to help you.”

  Cruel insults did absolutely nothing to help a person lose weight – this was a well-documented medical fact. And as for the “I’m just concerned about your health” line? It was funny how the same people who were so concerned about the unhealthiness of overweight people rarely ever concerned themselves with other health issues – you didn’t find them launching anti-smoking campaigns or crusading against alcohol-induced liver problems.

  Darlean leapt up from the table.

  “This was a hatchet job from the moment I sat down,” she fumed. “And you can tell your boss that. If you write anything about me – even one word – you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

  And with that she stormed out of the room.

  I was sitting at the table, trying to collect myself when I heard a voice say:

  “Write what you want. If she has a problem with that she’ll be hearing from my lawyers. Plural.”

  Nick!

  I whirled around. “What are you doing here?”

  I was stunned to see him standing in the doorway to the conference room.

  “I never left.”

  “What?” I asked. “You mean you’ve been here all this time?”

  He nodded.

  “What for?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Come with me, Violet,” he said. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  Chapter Six

  Mariah graciously agreed to give me the rest of the afternoon off – not that she had any choice in the matter.

  When Nicholas Colby steps into your office and asks you to do something, you do it. Post haste.

  “Violet and I have business to discuss,” Nick had told her, and Mariah had looked visibly shocked by the idea.

  “Well, if it’s anything I can help out with – ”

  “It’s not,” he’d said, cutting her off. “I need to meet with her in private. So if you wouldn’t mind letting her go for the day.”

  # # #

  An hour later, we found ourselves seated on the couch in his enormous penthouse.

  Nick had dismissed not only his butler, but his entire staff. For the rest of the evening, in the expanse of hours between dusk and dawn, we would be alone. Just the two of us. No phone calls. No spur-of-the-moment business trips.

  He had promised as much.

  “There’s something I need to ask you,” Nick began.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m leaving town tonight,” he said. “I have to go somewhere safe.”

  Somewhere safe? What was he talking about?

  “Where?” I asked. “And for how long?”

  “The Maldives,” he said. “I don’t know for how long. There are things going on right now in my business that have reached a boiling point. It’s time for me to walk away from my life here in New York. Run away, if you want to get technical about.”

  I gasped. Run away?

  “Ah, so the truth comes out,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s what you do when things get tough, is it? You run away.” I was fighting back tears. It had been an emotional day. I was falling in love with him, and here he was, planning to leave New York – and me – for good.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Nick said, his tone softening. I’m not leaving. Well, I am – ”

  I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, willing myself not to cry.

  “Violet,” Nick said. “I don’t think you understand.” He took my hand in his. “I want you to go with me. Leave this place and run away with me,” Nick said. “My plane is fueled up. We can go tonight.”

  Was he serious? Crazy? And what was all this talking about going somewhere safe? I couldn’t find the words to ask any of this, I just sat there, my eyes still closed.

  “Violet, please, look at me.”

  “I opened my eyes.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking…whatever you’re feeling,” Nick said. “I want to know.”

  How could I tell him what I really thought? How could I tell him the truth?

  “I’m afraid,” I began. And then, voice shaking, I added, “No, that’s not even the truth. I’m not afraid, Nick. I’m fucking terrified.”

  “So am I,” Nick said softly. He looked me dead in the eyes.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My business,” he said, looked pained. “You know all the trips I’ve been taking? Well, they haven’t really been to Japan or to London. I recently learned that one of the corporations I acquired is involved in some very dangerous illegal activity, with some very dangerous people. I took the information to the authorities, and I’ve been secretly helping them gather evidence…but things have gotten very serious, they’ve gotten life threatening.”

  I stared him in the eyes. He wasn’t lying.

  “I have to get away for a while. I have to go somewhere no one can find me. And I want you to come with me.”

  Nick touched my face, waiting for an answer. When I didn’t give him one, he said, “It won’t be forever. Just a few weeks, maybe more. I can come back as soon as the people behind all of this are caught.”

  I bowed my head. “I can’t.”

  I knew it then. I couldn’t go. I couldn’t run away with him, leave my life here behind and trot off around the globe for a man who had never once even told me how he felt.

  “Violet, please,” he begged. “I need you with me. I’ve never felt this way before.”

  I bit my lip. “You can’t say things like that to me.”

  “Things like what?”

  He moved closer to me on the couch, so that our knees were touching.

  “Don’t talk like this means something to you,” I said, my voice shaking, “when I know it doesn’t. I know I’m just a game to you, just a way to pass the time until some supermodel comes along.”

  “Violet….” Nick reached for my hand, but I jerked it away.

  I’d had enough. “I’m serious, don’t lie to me like that.”

  “I’m not lying,” he said softly.

  “Yes you are!” I exploded. “You’re the one who made this a ‘game’ or whatever it is you called it. And now I’m falling for you – I’m getting attached. And we’ve got, what, two and a half weeks left together? It all works out perfectly, doesn’t it Nick? I’ll come away with you, just like you’ve asked, and then right when we return to American soil you’ll dump me like yesterday’s garbage.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.” He tried desperately to kiss me, but I pulled away again.

  “Please, Violet!” Nick’s voice was desperate, beseeching. “I want you, Violet, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  I breathed in, deeply, trying to s
teady my nerves.

  “You want me now,” I said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “I know that. That isn’t my issue. My issues is, what happens when our time is up? What happens once it’s safe to come back home?”

  Nick didn’t answer, so I added, “You’re just George Clooney! You have a girl for a little while, some flavor of the month, and then you move on. It’s all about the thrill of the chase for you. You’ll take me on some whirlwind vacation and then you’ll drop me as soon as we’re stateside again.”

  Nick sat there for a long, long while not saying anything. And then finally, his voice breaking, he whispered, “That’s not true. I don’t care about thirty days. I don’t care about playing games. Yes, that’s how it started, but it isn’t like that now. I devised that little ‘game’ after reading your column, and yes, you’re right, at the time I was thinking you’d be a sexy challenge. But I thought all of that before you came into my office. From the very first moment I got to know you – reading your incredible writing, learning about your passions and your life and you loves, everything was different. Violet, things changed the moment I met you.”

  My whole body ached as he leaned forward, placing his arms around me and pulling me tightly into him.

  “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known,” he said, looking straight into my eyes. He was vulnerable, frightened. I had never seen Nicholas Colby like this before. It was in stark contrast to the Fortune 500 Billionaire who graced the pages of every major magazine. Nick was a shark, through and through, and he had never once – not in any interview or photograph or personal encounter – seemed vulnerable.

  Until now.

  Nick continued on, his voice almost breaking in that strange, hushed whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every moment, every second of the night and day, you’re all that’s on my mind. I read your articles, I read your blog, I look at pictures of you….”

  My blog! It had been so long since I’d updated my blog, Big Girl in Brooklyn, that I’d almost forgotten about it.

  “You’ve…you’ve read my blog?”

  “Every word,” Nick said, his dark eyes piercing into mine.

  So that was how he knew about my love of Tabor’s Gourmet Bake Shoppe, my fondness for double cappuccinos, and my dress size. He’d read it all on Big Girl in Brooklyn.

  “Nick, I….”

  “I want to make love to you,” he said, interrupting me.

  I let out a moan. “I can’t.”

  “Please, Violet, I’m dying here. I want to make love to you.”

  Silently, I allowed myself to be led off the couch and to his bedroom. I felt as though I were floating on air as Nick guided me down the hall and up the stairs, easing me back onto his bed, and climbing on top of me.

  Nick pressed his body firmly against mine, the full weight of him leaning into me as he stared deeply into my eyes.

  Then he kissed me, softly at first, and then harder, with more passion and force until, at long last, he broke away from me and cried out, “You’re so beautiful. Oh my God, you’re so beautiful.”

  Ohhhh.

  Nick flipped me over, and began gently tracing kisses down my back.

  “That feels sooooo good,” I said.

  Nick worked his way down until he’d reached my backside, then he cupped his hands on my ample cheeks and began planting kisses on them. I have never been kissed there before, and I’m surprisingly ticklish, squirming lightly beneath him.

  Nick’s strong hands hold me down, as he continues to work his way over my bare cheeks, kissing them eagerly. It feels naughty, but also surprisingly good. I find myself moaning softly as Nick’s mouth works its way across my backside, nibbling, biting, kissing, licking.

  For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to Do It – that thing I have never had done, and that I am, in truth, not sure I even want. I wonder if he’s going to take the plunge and put his mouth there. It’s a move I’ve never experienced, a move I’ve only seen on a few rare occasions – such as an episode of Sex and the City; and, more recently, performed by Woody Harrelson on True Detective. Kissing down in there is one of those dirty things I’ve always imagined I’d never do, but here, in this moment, it almost feels right.

  But Nick flips me over, and begins lavishing kisses across my stomach.

  And then, he’s back on top of me, and slowly, passionately, I feel, right at the edge of me, close to entering.

  “I just want to softly and gently make love to you,” he whispers.

  “Make love to me!” I cry.

  And he does. Over and over again, more times than I can remember, our bodies joining as one, coming together, melding together.

  The feel of him inside of me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  We don’t talk, we barely even make a sound, save for the few errant moans that escape our lips. It’s magic, brilliant, impossible to explain or understand, and once it’s over, we lie there, holding each other for a very long time.

  It feels like paradise, like a life I never knew was possible. A life that, as “the fat girl,” I had always been trained not to expect.

  The fat girl is always taught to not expect things, she’s taught to be happy with whatever she gets.

  Growing up, I had been lonely much of the time. I had led a sad, solitary existence, with so many evenings spent holed up in my bedroom, whiling away the hours, praying for something more.

  Lying here, in the arms of my lover, I wished that I could reach out to that girl, go back in time and tell her that it would all be okay, to hold on, to not be so sad. To tell her about how good things are now! How magical! To tell her that this – this is what’s waiting for her! To tell her that the future holds such amazing possibilities, that all she has to do is hold on.

  Through all my life, I never saw girls who looked like me. Girls like me were never in the movies, or in the books, or even on silly shows like The Bachelor.

  On the rare occasion when a TV show or movie did feature a heavier girl, she was the butt of the joke: the sad, pathetic fat girl who could only be happy once she slimmed down. If there was ever a girl on TV who looked like me, she only looked like me so she could be made fun of.

  Like Monica on Friends, or Rebel Wilson in Bridesmaids, or any of the other countless, nameless girls whose only sin was being born a little larger than what society deemed “perfect.”

  The girls who looked like me were never the girls who got the guy, they were never the girls who had a good life.. Occasionally, there were bigger girls who got skinny, and in turn, happy.

  But I never saw girls who looked like me and just were happy.

  “Your time will come,” my mother used to tell me.

  And now, here it was. So why was I running away from it?

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and then turned to face Nick.

  “I’ll go.” I trace the outline of his lips with my fingers. “I’ll go away with you.”

  I sigh deeply as his hand cups my chin, tilting my face toward him for one more kiss.

  As he we break away, he says, “We’ll leave tonight.”

  “Provided you don’t run away,” I tell him.” I’m half joking, half serious.

  “I’m not going to run away. If there’s one thing you should know about me, Violet, it’s that I don’t scare easily.

  I lean into Nick, willing this moment to last forever.

  “Yes,” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

  It is a simple word, but it is the truth.

  I am his. All his. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re so lucky,” Katie sighed. “I’d give anything to take a trip to Europe. I’ve only been out of the country once, and that was just a 4-day cruise. Considering how seasick I got, it wasn’t even that much fun.”

  It was later that night and Katie was helping me throw together a few items to take on my journey to The Maldives. I had promised Nick I wouldn’t tell anyone whe
re we were going, and it was a promise I was going to keep.

  Katie had vowed to keep watch over my apartment while I was gone. And Nick had told me he’d handle Mariah, making sure I got an extension on my Darlean Donovan article.

  I wasn’t sure how long we’d be gone – as he’d said, maybe a few weeks, maybe more – but I didn’t have the time or suitcase room to pack many things.

  “We can buy whatever you need once we get there,” Nick had said. “It’s just important that we leave town immediately.

  Davis was picking me up to go to Teterboro in fifteen minutes. The plane was waiting, and Nick had promised to meet me there. He still had a few loose ends to tie up before we left, but they shouldn’t take too long.

  “I have a security firm here in New York, and I need to check in with them, make sure everything is in order before we go.”

  As it turned out, Nick’s security firm had been watching me for weeks. The man I’d thought to be paparazzi – both at Colette’s and outside Katie’s apartment that morning – was a member of his team. Unbeknownst to me, Nick had taken great pains to ensure my safety – as well as the safety of my friends and co-workers.

  I didn’t know much about what was going on, about why Nick was in danger, but it gave me great comfort nonetheless to know he’d been looking out for me all this time.

  “I want your life,” Katie said, as we packed the last few of the items I’d be taking to “Europe.”

  I laughed lightly. What a thing to say! The fact that a gorgeous, successful girl like Katie would want to trade places with me, Violet Lewis, would have been laughable. If I didn’t agree with her myself.

  I loved my life, more than I ever knew was possible.

  And it wasn’t just Nick.

  I was brimming with confidence, basking in the glow of the lead article that I would write on Darlean Donovan (Nick had arranged for me to e-mail it to Mariah at the beginning of the following week; I’d be working on it while we were in the Maldives).