CURVOSITY
Christin M Lovell
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Curvosity
Copyright 2011 by Christin M Lovell
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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Smashwords Edition
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This book is dedicated to all the women with excess sexiness. Regardless of our size, we all deserve the man of our dreams: a man who melts our insides as he loves our outside.
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PROLOGUE
Hi, I'm Lucy and I'm a curvy woman. Ok, so maybe curvy is a bit of an understatement. So I don't have Jennifer Aniston's abs, Jen Garner's arms or Gwyneth Paltrow's legs; I have a lot of other things to make up for it. For instance, I'm funny, though often it's unintentional. I have a great heart, and a huge crush on the Maxwell Banks, although I'd gladly give him up for just a taste of Ian Somerhalder. My point is, I'm a wonderful person, if only Max could get past the excess sexiness. Ok, so maybe it's a bit more like excess stuffing, but everyone enjoys it at Thanksgiving, right?
Who knows? Maybe I'll have a Cinderella moment and my fairy godmother, played by the fabulous Jane Fonda, will grant my wish... Don't burst my bubble! A girl deserves the right to dream!
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Chapter 1
Maxwell Banks stared out the large windows of his picturesque corner office overlooking the snow covered skyline. As CEO of Maxwell Banks Industries and Alpha of the Banks County werewolf pack, he appeared to have it all. His navy blue tailored suit only emphasized the money and power behind his tall, dark and beyond-Fabio-handsome good looks. He had a great life; everything one could wish for, except a mate.
The torturous part? Max knew who his true mate was. He’d scented her the second she walked through his doors for her interview. She was nothing like what he’d envisioned himself with. She was curvaceous and vivacious; she had enough spunk to challenge his wolf, yet enough sense not to poke him. She was perfect; except she was human. She had not a lick of wolf in or on her.
To distract himself, he’d dated nearly every girl he shook hands with at least once, but they never satisfied him, in or out of bed. He was a broken man in a dreamer’s world.
“Need anything else before I leave Mr. Banks?” Lucy poked her head into his office. He had to hold back the growl of his wolf, the incessant need to claim her.
She was beautiful, her large hips making it nearly impossible for another person to fit through the doorway with her. It was almost an understated power play; she controlled who could and couldn’t gain access to him. Her long, dark brown locks glowed beneath the recessed lights; a few rays creating the illusion of a halo. Her soft, rosy cheeks emphasized her healthy complexion while her full lips teased him. What he wouldn’t do to have those luscious lips trailing his body, petting his wolf.
“Mr. Banks?” Her brow raised; she shifted uncomfortably, unsure of herself.
Max cleared his throat, pulling his suit jacket down to try to cover his burgeoning erection. She got the best of him every time. “No, Lucy. Just go.” The words came out harsh, but if she didn’t close the damn door soon he was going to be liable for pouncing her, and the legal department already hated him.
***
Lucy pursed her lips, unsure of what’d set her boss off. He was always moody. Either he was a nymphomaniac and never satisfied or the women he had weren’t satisfactory she’d decided. No man having great sex could scowl as often as Max. He was always on edge despite having a new blonde Barbie on his arm every night. She should know; she made the dinner reservations. It didn’t stop her from drooling over him in her dreams at night though.
Giving up on solving the riddle that was Mr. buff and bodacious Banks, Lucy nodded and closed his office door. She went back to her desk, bundled up before grabbing her purse and heading out.
***
Max listened as Lucy left. He quickly went to his computer and accessed the security cameras to ensure she reached her car safely like always. She dropped her keys outside the elevator. He groaned, gripping himself as she bent over, giving him a perfect view of her round rump.
“How long you plannin’ to torture yourself man?” Donte asked. His best friend, brother, and pack Beta stood in the doorway to his office. Max had been so involved in watching Lucy he didn’t even hear the wolf stalk his way.
Max turned off the monitor once Lucy was in her car and faced the man who dared to wear a wolfy grin and amused eyes. “As long as I have to.”
“What exactly do you think Lucy is going to do? Run away screaming?”
“Yes,” he stated, staring the Beta down. Donte shifted his gaze. He never could hold his brother’s challenge.
“I’m calling bullshit.”
“Did you come down here just to interrogate me?” Max bit out.
Donte laughed. “Damn. It’s that serious, bro?”
Max shoved out of his chair and headed out the door, leaving his brother standing alone in his office.
“Alright, alright. So it’s serious.” Donte conceded, quickly catching up to Max. “You can’t hold out forever. I’m surprised you’ve lasted two years.” He squared off with Max beside the elevators. “One day she’s going to get the best of you; one day you will surrender to your wolf, and we’ll all be celebrating fools. Mom and Cindy are already handling the details.”
Max wasn’t amused. He knew his pack cared about him the same as he did them; they only wanted what was best for him. It’d been hard on his mother watching him flounder around when she’d met and married the love of her life, his father, within three weeks, and lived happily ever after until his untimely death a few years ago.
“Just think about it. You’re only holding off the inevitable when you could be fucking it,” Donte winked, turning around and nearly unhinging the door to the stairs as he pushed through it.
Max pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deep. He closed his eyes, his mind immediately going to Lucy. Today she’d worn a v-neck blouse that dipped just enough to tease him with the buxom bulge of her breasts barely being held up by her bra. “Shit,” he cursed, jabbing the down arrow button as he opened his eyes back to his stark reality without her.
Chapter 2
Lucy opened the door to her downtown apartment. It’d been a long day. Max had been restless most of the week. She sighed, frustrated that she couldn’t help but notice everything about him. The way his five o’clock shadow really did appear by five every day; the way his upper lip really did turn up slightly. And today, what she wouldn’t have done for the chance to pinch his tight butt in that navy suit. She was dying to dip his nipples in chocolate sauce, suck and lick them clean while massaging his rear and rubbing her front to his. God, she was getting hot just thinking about it.
“Hey girl! How was work?” Lucy’s best friend and roommate, Gretta, greeted her.
“Egh. It was work,” she shrugged, kicking off her heels by the door. “What are we doing for dinner? I’m starving.” Lucy headed straight for the kitchen. Gretta frowned, promptly following her.
“Uh oh. What restaurant was it this time?” Gretta pulled out the assortment of take-out menus they kept in the drawer beside
the fridge. It was such a pity to be privy to a fancy, updated kitchen, yet be such a lousy cook. Lucy had some cooking skills, but rarely used them.
“Maggeo’s,” Lucy scowled, recalling the fancy website teasing her with the dishes they offered. “Tiffany, Max’s girl this week, will probably skip the pasta for a salad, avoid bread like it’s the devil incarnate, and cuddle up to him while he downs chicken parmesan, his favorite Italian dish,” she snarked. It also happened to be the one dish she’d scoured all of the Google-verse to learn how to perfect. Too bad Max would never taste it, because there was too much of her to taste.
Lucy heaved a sigh as she opened the fridge and pulled out the bag of mini snickers. “Let me guess, he made you call her and relay the time and place?” Gretta guessed. Lucy nodded.
“Screw him Luce. Seriously, I don’t know why the heck you’re so hung up on him.” Lucy’s brows shot up. “Ok, so he’s a million times better than Brad Pitt, who has like tripled in age since he got together with bubble lips, but he’s not worth the pain. That’s all you’re doing is torturing yourself Lucy. You’re a great girl, and I know that there is a man out there who would love to grip your curves while he pushes your cushion,” Gretta beamed, lifting her head to infuse confidence in the end.
“I know, but I don’t. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to go streaking down a fashion runway next to twigs, but there’s just something about him.”
“Luce, it’s been two years since you even went out on a date while he’s flipping floozies every damn night. You’re better than that; you deserve better than that.” Gretta placed her hands on her wide hips, determination set in her features.
“I know.” Lucy unwrapped another snickers, stuffing it into her mouth before tossing the rest of the bag, with all of two pieces left, back into the fridge. “How does Italian sound?” she asked, shimmying Gretta out of the way to browse the menus.
“Too close to home. Pick another country sister.”
“China?”
“Works for me. Let’s go ditch our pride and put on our moo-moos while we wallow over crappy men and our lackluster sex lives.”
Lucy laughed. She wouldn’t be caught dead in a moo-moo; neither would Gretta. Just because they were plus-size didn’t mean they weren’t fashionable. The fact that her friend mentioned them showed how concerned she was over her obsessive compulsive with her boss. In truth, Lucy knew it was unhealthy, and certainly was doing nothing for her waistline the way he drove her to chocolate, but he was an addiction she couldn’t break. There was something about him she couldn’t let go of, though she wished she could get him to let go of his stigmatism of fat girls; because she was dying to jump his bones.
***
Max studied his date. Tiffany was the opposite of Lucy in every way. He liked it that way; it made her safe for him. Her blonde hair was cropped in a stylish angled bob, her thin figure dressed in an overly sexy, shove-my-goods-in-your-face, blue dress while she stuffed her huge feet into what seemed like twenty-inch heels a size too small. Max tried not to get frustrated when she only took a few bites of her food, which was more like grass than sustenance, before deserting her fork for his arm. If Lucy had been there, she would have ordered an actual meal; they could have shared dishes over –
He cut himself off. Damn it. The whole point of Tiffany was to forget about Lucy.
“You ready for dessert sugar?” Tiffany drawled as she leaned in closer, her breath nearly knocking him out. Thank God for his sensitive smell… Not. He stiffened beside her knowing she wasn’t talking about real dessert.
Digging deep, Max smiled charmingly as he looked at her. “Only if you are.”
“Oh Max,” she blushed, grinning broadly. Her smile didn’t light up her face, illuminate her eyes, the way Lucy’s did though.
Max nearly growled at himself. This was only getting worse. Instead of forgetting about Lucy, he was becoming more obsessed. He turned his attention to the blonde Posh who was trying to mentally calculate how much she could squeeze out of him over the next month if he stuck around with her. He didn’t plan to, but she didn’t know that. Plus, he had an itch to scratch tonight. Maybe if he stuffed a few pillows around her, he could capture a bit of Lucy. God he was sick.
Chapter 3
“Oh God,” Lucy groaned, her hands over her stomach. “I’m going to have to avoid Starbucks for a week to balance all this crap I just ate.”
“You? I ate the extra eggroll and finished off the ice cream. I’m going to have to be drastic and only drink water with lemons for a week.”
“You tried that once, remember? You were the bitch from hell for all of two hours before you caved.”
“Well, it was nice in theory.” The both stared at the array of empty containers in horror.
“You know, I can always picture myself a hundred pounds thinner and on Max’s arm, but I can’t seem to unglue myself from the fridge to get there. Kinda makes me think I’m not as into him as my body likes to tell me. If I was, I would probably be doing a lot more to make it happen.” She frowned.
“Don’t beat yourself up sweetie. You know as well as I do that you can’t and won’t change until you’re ready to. You have to be doing it for you, not for Max. And until then, we’re gorgeous, curvaceous beauties who will find men to love us just the way we are, not contingent on if we lose a hundred pounds.”
“You know, you always say that, but I’ve yet to see a man cross that threshold in the past three years.” Gretta opened her mouth to argue, but Lucy cut her off. “And Tom doesn’t count. He was just a creepy man with a fetish.”
“Try a hot man with a fetish,” Gretta smirked.
“Ok, so he was hot, but too Dexter creepy for me.”
“So, what are our plans for the weekend?”
“Besides wallowing in self-pity over the fact that I can’t be supermodel thin?”
Gretta cut her eyes at Lucy. “You want to eat like a mouse just to squeeze into jeans that only a child should be able to fit into?”
“I want the reward without the hard work.”
“Don’t we all, but life is just a tad too cruel for that.”
“I know. And I know I sound absolutely pathetic right now.”
“Try whiney and unappreciative.”
“How am I unappreciative?”
“I would kill to have the curves you do. You’re a big girl, but you have it in all the right places.”
“Try a little too much in my middle,” Lucy scoffed.
“I have too much in the middle. I have the spare tire syndrome. There isn’t a shirt or dress out there that can hide my stomach nor a girdle made by man that could suck me in enough for me to get a glimpse of the somewhat toned legs I’ve been indulged with. I’d much rather have it more evenly distributed like yours. Not to mention I’d kill to see a bra bigger than a C-cup.”
“It’s not really that bad Gretta. You always dress super cute for your shape, not to mention your pixie cut is beyond Alice adorable.” She shrugged indifferently. “Listen to us, complaining like two old maids. So we don’t have golden figures, at least we dress what we have fashionably. We also certainly don’t starve to death like those in third world countries. We have a gorgeous downtown loft-style apartment Dwell magazine would kill to photograph.”
“Point made. So what are we doing?”
“How about a little retail therapy before the party tomorrow night?”
“Oh yea. I completely forgot about your company Christmas party.”
“Yea. I’m feeling a bit spunky too. Maybe I’ll take a chance with a daring LBD. If I can’t garner Maxwell Banks’ attention, at least I can try to nab some other hot stud, even if just for tomorrow night.”
“I heard his brother Donte likes bigger girls. Clarice saw him out with one a couple weeks ago,” Gretta threw out energetically.
“I don’t know if I could stand to watch Max at home with all the skinny Minnies.” Lucy scrunched her face, trying not to picture it e
ven as she said it.
“Ok, so we’ll skip the whole Banks family, but they’re bound to invite a few guests. They did the last two years anyways. There is absolutely hope for us babes,” Gretta beamed.
“I’m so glad you’re my bestie.”
“That’s only because we can share clothes, shoes and bags.”
“That’s just the icing on the cake,” Lucy smiled. “Let’s clean this stuff up and scour the websites so we know which stores to hit up tomorrow.”
“Should I text Manny for a hair appointment?”
“And Sue for a mani, pedi and wax.”
“Wow, someone’s serious about this.”
“Damn straight.”
Chapter 4
“Which girl did you decide on tonight?” Cindy asked her brother pointedly, a scowl on her face.
Max gave her a stern look; he wasn’t amused. His mother and sister had been digging into him all afternoon. It was no secret, thanks to his brother’s big mouth, that he’d scented his mate long ago, but everyone refused to respect his choice in avoiding her.
“Oh stop it Max. You know we only want what’s best for you. Why you insist on torturing yourself with all those other girls is beyond me. So she’s not one of us; your wolf certainly doesn’t seem to mind,” his mother fussed, straightening his tie. He jerked away from her, frustrated and done with the conversation.
“No one. I’m not taking anyone to the party tonight,” he stated. Cindy gasped dramatically while his mother smiled approvingly. He hated seeing her so happy over that choice; it only reminded him of how unhappy she’d been with his lifestyle choices of late.
“Well, I think it’s for the best honey. You know you really ought to give this girl a chance. It’s unfair to both of you. If you’re feeling this way, she has to be feeling it in some way too. That’s how it always works with us, regardless of your blood line.” His mother fluffed the pillows on his couch. She and Cindy had taken it upon themselves to inject a little female elegance into his masculine bachelor pad. They said it would make the pack women feel more comfortable when he had gatherings here, but he knew it was about more than that. While he didn’t buck on that, he absolutely couldn’t concede to a date with Lucy. It was much too risky. He couldn’t trust himself to behave. As it was he was on the edge, a centimeter from pouncing her in his office with his entire staff nearby, which would be disastrous if discovered.
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