His voice rose on the last attracting the attention of the hostess, bartender and a group of men and women entering the front door.
“Sit back down. I think you’re the one who needs another drink.” Amber liquid filled their glasses again.
“The other card is for the size of the woman you prefer.” When Eric still looked puzzled, Josh sighed. “The dress size. You put the size of the dress you’d want your woman to wear.”
“The dress size?”
“Yeah, apparently, they did some market research and found out it wasn’t as effective if you put the weight of the woman you preferred.
“Oh.” Eric did sit back down. And he grabbed his drink and downed it as well. So much for not going home drunk tonight. Well, he wasn’t drunk, just had a really, really good buzz. He was too big of a man to get drunk on three small shots of whiskey.
He laughed at his own pun, then frowned. Hell, maybe he was drunk.
But he was also intrigued. He picked up his abandoned sharpie and took off the lid. “So I put down the dress size of the woman I want?”
“Yeah.”
He glanced over at Josh’s card and grinned. “So you put down the dress size of cousin Marie. Is there something you want to tell me? Should I be concerned if I hear the soundtrack for Deliverance playing at the next family reunion?”
“Eww.” Josh made a face of disgust.
“Well she’s not ugly by any means and I think we both had a few boyhood fantasies centered around her long blonde hair.”
“She’s a third cousin on her mother’s side. She’s not even blood related.”
“Then why did you say eww – like a girl I might add.”
“Because now it’s gross.”
Eric agreed.
“So a ten is your magic number?”
“Yeah. Not too small – I feel like I’m crushing some of ‘em, or fucking a twig. And not someone bigger then me either. I don’t want to get crushed. A ten is just about right.”
Eric winched, hoping no one had overhead his brother. He knew Josh would never intentionally hurt a woman’s feelings, but he also knew that comment might not have sounded so good. Eric believed there was a man for every woman. And a woman for every man. Suddenly he hoped there was one here for him tonight.
Looking at the blank card, he pretended to think for a moment. He knew his perfect number, he just didn’t know what Eric would think. In the past, he’d dated a variety of women. Short, tall, willowy, athletic, not so thin, thin, black, white. It was the not so thin ones that gave him the biggest hard-on.
He wrote his number.
Eighteen.
He could go higher, the extra curves didn’t bother him a bit. There was nothing like holding a big, firm ass when you fucked a woman from behind. Her rounded breasts hanging down, soft and squeezable, unlike women with breast implants whose breasts in that position really did feel and look fake.
Hell, now he had a hard-on to go along with his buzz.
Josh glanced at the number and gave a nod. He quickly switched the cards, the twelve on Eric’s back, and the eighteen on his front. “Let’s go, big brother. I’ll play wingman for you first.”
*
Emily was bored. Jennifer was on the dance floor and the other women were being chatted up by various men around other tables. Again, she was alone in a sea of people. Right now she’d give anything to be home, dressed in her Scooby-Doo night shirt, watching TV from the comfort of her king sized bed.
Maybe she’d just sneak away. Even though this was supposed to be a night of celebration for her, it wasn’t like anyone would really miss her. Except maybe Jennifer. She drew a deep breath, resigning herself to at least another hour of watching everyone else hook up before she could actually make a valid argument for leaving her own party early. She had told her mother that she might come for a visit on Saturday. It would be as good of an excuse as any.
“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” A skinny waitress in a tight leather skirt and white button-down blouse opened just enough to show off her generous, cough, fake, assets stood next to the table, one hand on her bony hip and a derisive look on her gaunt face.
The woman needed a good, big…cheeseburger and fries. Emily smiled at the uncharitable thought. “No, thank you.”
“We have a menu if you’d like to see it.”
What? Since she was fat, she couldn’t sit here without something to stuff in her mouth? She so wanted to wipe the smirky look off of the thin face. But that wouldn’t be very professional of her. Counting slowly to ten, she glanced around the room, giving herself time to calm down. Her gaze was caught by two men at the bar in deep conversation. They were similar in height and build, but the darker headed one was broader, with shoulders like a linebacker. She’d bet he had something she could stuff her face with.
Oh my! Where had that thought come from? Too much alcohol? Maybe. She eyed the man again, noting the snug fit of well worn jeans and the knit polo shirt that stretched across his well-developed torso. Just looking at him had her fantasies – and her hormones – kicking into overdrive.
“Well?”
The snappy one-word question drew her attention back to the stick-like waitress. She’d had enough of the snarky tone and just enough alcohol in her to stand up for herself. “I said no. But you should really do yourself a favor and eat something. Only dogs like bones.”
The waitress left in a huff and Emily grinned. Score one for the fat girl.
*
The room was filled with a bevy of beauties. Big, buxom beauties.
Tall women, short women, and somewhere in between women. The height was as varied as their sizes. Thin women, downright skinny women and big, beautiful women. Most of the women in the room were of above average size – whatever that arbitrary number was these days that society placed on beauty. Men with big dicks usually preferred larger women and he was no exception. Yeah, a big beautiful woman was just his type.
A man who hadn’t dated a larger size woman didn’t know what he was missing. Since his teens when he’d first discovered the pleasures of the female body, Eric had also discovered some women were arrogant bitches and some didn’t care about anything except what handbag went with what shoes. More importantly, he’d learned that bigger women were more sincere and honest – somehow allowing their true inner self to shine through.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved a well-dressed, well put together woman as much as the next guy. But on Sunday morning when he wanted to lounge around in his boxer briefs, he didn’t want to do that with a woman who looked like she was dressed to go to a tennis match at the local country club. No, he liked a woman confident and comfortable in a pair of knit shorts and a clingy top. Or bare-assed naked. That was even better.
Most of the time it took a lot of convincing for a woman of size to remove her clothes. But convincing them was a job he loved.
“See anything you like?”
He frowned at his brother’s question. His sibling still had some maturing to do. “It’s not a damn cattle sale.”
“I know.” His words were sincere enough but Eric still saw the look in Josh’s eyes. Like a kid in a candy store who wanted to gorge on everything and worry about his stomach later.
“I’m taking my time and I suggest you do the same.”
“But all the good ones will get taken. I’m not going to sit here and wait for that to happen.”
Even as the last words were coming out of his mouth, Eric watched Josh disappear into the crowd. Heaving a sigh for his younger brother’s impatience, he settled back on stool, leaning one elbow on the bar behind him. The room was crowded – there was no doubt the evening was a success.
The club had the right gimmick. Everyone – especially the women – came to see if the men really did put the size of their dicks on the front of their shirts. He did it himself simply because he didn’t want to go home with a woman, get all worked up and then have her run away. Literally.
He’d do just as he
said, take a little time and see what the room had to offer. Twisting on his barstool, he motioned for the bartender to fill his glass again. Taking a sip of the whiskey, he turned back around to peruse the crowd.
His gaze wandered over the dance floor where several couples were getting busy doing a whole lot of dirty dancing. The thumping music provided an excuse for the few who had hooked up with a potential someone to bump and grind in an arousing parody of the sex act.
Forcing his eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of so many bodies straining together, he moved on to the tables across the room. It was a smorgasbord of female flesh.
Surely somewhere in this sea of women was one just for him.
One. That’s all he wanted. He wouldn’t admit it to Josh – hell, he barely admitted it to himself – but he’d grown tired of superficial relationships and one night stands. He was ready for a commitment. Ready to find “the one”.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes locked with a woman sitting alone at the center table. She maintained the contact for a second, then blushed furiously and dropped her head, breaking the electrical connection.
Eric wasn’t disappointed. He knew a guilty flush when he saw one. Apparently she’d been looking at him for quite awhile and he’d caught her staring. The thought buoyed his confidence.
He knew he wasn’t bad looking. He had thick black hair compliments of his mother and his muscles were courtesy of the long hours he put in on his construction sites. But tonight he was going against some stiff competition. Grimacing inwardly at his second bad pun of the night, he sat his glass aside. He’d definitely had enough to drink.
While the woman continued to study the tablecloth with alarming intensity, he studied her. Her dark hair was thick and lustrous, curling slightly around a smooth face dominated by wide green eyes he’d only caught a brief glimpse of. A set of pouty lips made his dick jump at the thought of what he’d like her to do with them.
“Damn.” He shifted on the stool trying to rev back the throttle his brain had put on his body. He hadn’t even met her yet. Didn’t even know her name or if she was available – or interested.
That was the tricky part. Working up the courage to put yourself out there. Getting shot down was never fun, but he’d never know if he didn’t at least try. Leaving his empty glass on the bar, he walked toward her table, keeping his eyes on the woman’s down bent head as he dodged and weaved through the mass of bodies obstructing his path.
“Hi.” Smooth Eric.
At least it got her attention. Her big green eyes widened as she stared up at him, a look of disbelief flitting briefly across her face. That small hint of vulnerability tugged at Eric’s heart and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He wondered if she knew how easy she was to read.
“Hello.”
Her voice was soft and melodic and Eric thought how well it suited her. Up close, her skin was flawless perfection and he’d bet it would be heaven to touch. To stroke.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” His hand rested lightly on the back of the chair next to her.
An embarrassed blush stole across her cheeks. “Oh, yes, please.” She put a hand to her flushed cheek. “I don’t know where my manners are.”
Eric pulled the chair out just enough to make room for his big body, leaving it close enough to hers that their knees touched as he sat. He felt encouraged when she didn’t move away.
“My name is Eric Daniels. What’s yours?”
“Emily. Emily, umm. Emily.”
“Too soon for last names?”
“Maybe.” She held out her hand.
When his hand closed around hers, Eric felt an electrical charge that went straight to his groin.
Something about this woman made every other woman in the room fade away. She exhibited an air of wide-eyed innocence and a sultry-come-hither vibe at the same time. The combination was as erotic as hell and Eric found himself vowing to protect her from the wolves in the room while simultaneously wanting to throw her on the table and fuck her like a two dollar whore.
“Can I buy you a drink, Emily?”
“I’d like a Pink Flamingo, please.”
Her smile nearly took his breath away.
The waitress who brought the drinks was different than the snooty one before and Emily was glad. She didn’t need drop dead gorgeous doing any comparison shopping.
“Have you ever been to one of these parties before?”
Emily nursed her drink and tried not to openly stare at the hunk of manhood sitting so close that his blue jean clad knees brushed hers. The rough denim against her silk stockings made her pussy clench. Would his calloused hands feel as good against her naked thighs as he held them open before he went down on her?
He was a lot of man. And she liked big men. He was also a man she didn’t want getting away. She couldn’t see the entire number on his chest; his very large arm was covering the right hand side. All she could see was an eight. But heat stoked through her. He wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t his type, would he?
No. He was totally focused on her.
For now.
If she wanted him to stay awhile, she’d better find her tongue.
Oh the things she could do to him with her tongue.
“This is my first one.”
“What?” He shook his head, touching a hand to his ear indicating he couldn’t her over the music and the crowd. He leaned in closer and so did she.
Shit, he smelled good.
Emily licked her lips and felt her inner diva clap as he followed the movement with heated eyes. “My first.”
“Do you need to see my numbers, Emily?” He took the white card from his chest and laid it on the table between them. The number eighteen started up at her and for once in her life she was grateful for her size. Was it possible that this man could want a woman like her? Holding her gaze, he reached behind his back and found the other card.
A number one followed by a two. She couldn’t control the small gasp that escaped. Y-e-s-s! She’d hit the jackpot.
The heat in his eyes flared brighter. “Are you interested in finding out what goes on in those back rooms, Emily?”
Well, hell, Eric hadn’t meant to cut to the chase like that. He was usually a little smoother. But the deep vee of her blouse gave him a perfect view of her ample charms and the throb behind his zipper short circuited his normal charm.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” A small sexy frown formed between her brows and he knew the innocence he felt radiating off her was real.
“Don’t answer that yet. Let’s get to know one another a little bit first.” He knew he had to slow down even though his dick was dying from the mental strangle hold he’d put on it. Eric put a warm hand on her knee, stopping her words with a shake of his head. He squeezed the soft flesh. “Okay?”
He was overpowering, potent, sinfully male. And his virility surrounded Emily like a fog, locking her in a sensual haze that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d consumed. An inner voice screamed loudly for her to shed her inhibitions, tamp down her fear, and follow this man wherever he led.
But what if you can’t satisfy him?
She mentally beat back her self-destructive self-esteem.
“I’d like that.” She smiled seductively and her inner diva applauded again.
For the next several minutes they exchanged the usual personal information and she learned that he owned his own construction company, was presently building his own house in the suburbs (oh my!), enjoyed sports (shocker), and had a brother named Josh. She finally gave him her last name and he rewarded her with another firm squeeze on her leg. It wasn’t her imagination when his hand landed an inch or two higher than before. She wanted Eric’s hands there – and everywhere.
“I’ve never been married but I’m a firm believer in the institution. I come from a large extended family. My parents have been married for a long time.”
Hmmm.
“Your turn.” He leaned closer, his expressio
n full of expectation.
Emily took a sip of her drink and blinked away her doubts about attracting this man. He seemed totally interested in her. If the looks she’d caught him directing down her blouse were any indication, interested in her body as well. Hopefully his numbers hadn’t lied.
Her nipples hardened under yet another blatantly hot look. She arched her back slightly, pushing the hardened points against the silky material of her shirt. His eyes widened and a small hiss escaped from between his mobile lips.
“I’m single.” She laughed as he mouthed the word “whew” and playfully wiped a hand across his strong brow.
“I live in an apartment near the business district. I’m an only child and I’m originally from Massachusetts where my parents still live. I enjoy watching TV from the comfort of my king-sized bed and I love to cook.” She sounded like a game show contestant but grinned when his eyebrow rose at the mention of the size of her bed.
Let him think about that comment and all it could mean. Her inner diva was a little flirt with a little booze in her.
“Hey brother, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
As much as Eric loved his brother, he wished he’d just stayed away. Weren’t there enough women in the room to keep his attention?
“Emily, this is my baby brother, Josh. The one I told you about.”
Emily smiled up at a younger version of Eric. Josh was nice looking but he wasn’t manly in the sexy way that Eric was. At least not to her. But the wide smile on his handsome face had her liking him immediately.
“It’s nice to meet you, Josh.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Emily.”
The kiss he bestowed on the back of her hand was sweet, producing none of the electrical current that Eric’s handshake had.
“She’s taken, brother.”
The sternly spoken words both shocked and pleased Emily. She’d never had a man display any type of jealousy over her before.
Josh took the comment in stride, grinning down at his brother.
“Mind if I sit down for awhile? I’m trying to get my second wind.” He didn’t wait for a response and pulled a chair out beside Eric. He lounged casually, his long legs tucked carefully to the side and out of the way of passing bodies.
Sex by the Numbers (BBW and Alpha Males) Page 2
