He replied to every e-mail, called her every day; he sent her flowers and candy. He did everything a man should do to apologize for whatever it was that he’d done wrong, but had received nothing in response. Every day that passed, his hope died a little more.
“You up for a night out bro?” Donte asked, walking into Max’s house without knocking.
Max remained seated on the couch, sprawled out with a beer in hand. He was trying to relax, but his muscles were too tense and his mind wouldn’t shut the hell up. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself. You know you can’t mope around forever.”
“I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
Donte chuckled. “Then why the hell don’t you go to her apartment?”
“I can’t just show up there. She’s liable to call the cops on me.”
“You’re her employer; she’s called out sick every day. You got concerned,” he shrugged, as if that was explanation enough.
“So I go there and say what?”
“Fuck if I know. I’m not good at that sappy shit. I can tell you that her friend is working right now so she’s home alone.” Donte winked at his brother. “I’ll catch you later bro.”
Max could hear the smile in his brother’s voice, the amusement in his tone. He didn’t care though. He was going to get his woman, if it was the last damn thing he did.
Chapter 13
Lucy padded through the apartment trying not to wallow even more in self-pity. She felt as bad as she looked. Well, she did, until Gretta forced her to shower earlier grumbling about how she wasn’t a homeless person. She’d cried so much she didn’t know if she had a cold or not at this point. She was a pathetic wreck.
Sighing, she flopped down on the sofa, grabbing the remote off the coffee table on her way. She was just about to turn on the TV when there was a knock at the door. She groaned, having already found a comfortable spot. She pushed away from her fluffy heaven and treaded towards the door. Leaning up on her tip-toes, she peered through the peep hole. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Max.
He looked tired and disheveled in athletic pants, tennis shoes and a hoodie, the opposite of his usual perfectly put together appearance. She wanted to caress his cheeks while she lavished his eyelids with tender kisses meant to heal his bruising. But alas, she couldn’t; she wouldn’t. She was just about to walk away, leave him standing there when he spoke.
“I know you’re there Lucy; I hear your heart racing. Please just let me in.”
Lucy bit her bottom lip. Glancing around her empty apartment, she debated him as if he were a dangerous predator that she didn’t know if she was prepared to defend herself against.
“Please Lucy.” He sounded so hurt, like a child missing its mother.
She swallowed her jitters, and opened the door.
***
Max’s heart swelled at the sight of Lucy. Her hair fell in slightly damp waves around her face and shoulders. Her eyes were puffy, surrounded by the same purplish-blue as his own. She was dressed in oversized sweat pants, a black tank top, minus a bra he noted with delight, and thick, socks depicting yellow ducks. She was a beautiful disaster.
His inner wolf roared to life; it took a conscious effort for him not to yank her to him and steal her lips. He stood outside the door, watching her, waiting for the invitation to enter.
“Come on in,” she sighed, leaving him to close the door behind himself. She sat down on the sofa, leaning towards the arm, and watched him with hesitant eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, waiting expectantly.
Max stood in the open living room, his heart pounding, throat dry and mind racing. He wanted to say so much, but didn’t know where to begin. He decided to start with the easiest. “Why did you leave?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you matter!” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging it at the roots. “To me, you matter.”
He watched that sink in, the emotions pass through her eyes. She was trying not to react; trying to hide how she really felt. She averted her gaze; that combined with her body language, it all made sense to him. “You don’t think you matter, do you?”
She shrugged, pretending to study her nails.
Max stalked over to her, lifting her face towards him. He waited until they locked eyes. He heard her breath catch the moment they did. “I don’t know what asshole ripped apart your self-esteem, but-“
“Stop.” It came out as a soft command, but nonetheless did what she intended.
Max studied her, noting her discomfort. “Why?”
“Max, I know I’m not a size two, but I also know that I’m not a hideous troll. I get that I’m pretty in my own big girl way. What I don’t get is how you can date skinny blondes for two years straight and then all of a sudden expect me to believe that you’ve had a thing for me all along.” Lucy folded her arms over her chest. Max unbent himself, taking a step back; he’d never considered that angle.
***
Lucy watched the creases deepen on Max’s forehead. She could handle rejection; she’d thought long and hard over the past week and knew she could handle Max walking away from her. But she couldn’t handle him stringing her along, playing with her mind, her emotions like he was. It’s ok if she didn’t live up to his physical standards, but it wasn’t ok for him to capitalize on her weakness for him.
“I’ll keep your werewolf secret Max. You don’t have to put on a charade for the sake of pacifying me.”
Something must have clicked because Max’s face shot to hers, focusing his attention entirely on her. “How do you feel about me Lucy?” Lucy cringed at the glint in his eyes. He was going in for the kill.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Um, I like you.”
He smiled wide, brow rising as he asked, “Do you find me sexy?”
Her mouth went dry as heat warmed her lower stomach. “Sure,” she shrugged, all of a sudden feeling like a cat in heat confined to a cage.
Max took a step forward; Lucy’s breath caught. “Do you think about me often?”
“Uh,” she stumbled, her mind feeling like jello as all of her melted before him. Damn she was weak.
“I think about you all the time Lucy; when I’m stuck behind my desk at work, listening to the pitter patter of your heart right outside my door calling to me. I daydream about you while I’m out to dinner with some pixie that will barely touch her food, wishing you were there to share more than inedible rabbit fare with me. I come with my eyes closed, imagining it was you jerking me off in the shower. I can’t get away from you. You haunt me every second of every day, torturing me with your luscious curves and sassy attitude. Makes me want to bend you over and fuck you until you apologize.”
The bottom dropped out from under Lucy. Her pussy flooded, nipples hardened and heart softened at his words. She’d been so stupid. She’d been lying to herself; it was insecurity that drove her out of that hotel room, and it was assurance from him that threw her into his arms.
Lucy jumped off the couch, wrapped her arms around Max and crushed her lips to his, reveling in the sweetest kind of love: unconditional love. She realized that Max loved her just the way she was, extra stuffing and all.
***
Max growled as he lifted Lucy’s legs and wrapped them around his waist, reveling in the feel of her large thighs encasing him. Hands explored as he kissed her silly. He bit her lower lip when she raked her nails down his back; his erection straining against the fabric of his clothes.
He couldn’t take it anymore; he led them to her room, but not before stopping off in the kitchen where Lucy grabbed the bottle of chocolate syrup. It was going to be a delicious night, and the perfect beginning to their savory life.
***
*****
***
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Curvosity. It’s my sincere hope that you thoroughly enjoyed it. I’ve always believed that plus-size women should be more prominently featured in romance no
vels. Given that, I plan to continue with my line of plus-size heroines. And I’m not talking about size 12 women, who are below the national average of a size 14. I’m talking about real women with excess sexiness (love that line!) and a scale that doesn’t go below 200. Why? Because big girls need love too!
Until the next book, feel free to visit my website: www.christinlovell.com
Or write me on Twitter @christinlovell
Or facebook me: Christin Lovell
Or e-mail me at: [email protected]
I always love to hear from my readers! I appreciate each and every one of you!
Thanks again for reading Curvosity!
Christin
Curvosity Page 4
