“Yes, I am.” I focus my gaze on the nocturnal view of the city to avoid the temptation I read in his eyes.
Since we had such a hearty breakfast, I skipped lunch. At least, I prefer this version of the facts rather than admitting to myself I was so nervously anticipating this evening I wasn’t able to eat a bite all day.
“Good, let’s go see what’s for dinner.”
Max grabs my hand to lead me down the stairs and I can’t help look up contemplatively at the rooms on the second floor. Which one is his bedroom?
“Since there’s still so much for me to discover about you, I asked the chef to prepare a classic American dinner. I’m not sure how adventurous you are when it comes to trying out new dishes, so I kept it simple.”
“Oh. You didn’t have to fuss over me so much, but you have me intrigued. What’s on the menu?” I’m genuinely excited. George would have reprimanded me for even glancing twice at a dessert table.
“The chef left forty-five minutes before you got here, so it’s ready and warm. I believe he mentioned we would be feasting on fresh brisket of beef au jus served with baby roasted potatoes drizzled with garlic butter, and he’s also prepared a colorful assortment of heirloom carrots.”
Hmmm. The last time those fancy carrots were on the menu was when I took ill-fated advice from Dr. Oz and ended up bumping into Vince—the mechanic-slash-wannabe-pilot. I hope this isn’t a sign for me to run before a jealous wife gets off Max’s private elevator and attacks me.
“You’re right, this menu is worthy of a five-star mention.” Everything on the menu sounds exquisite. I can’t believe he would have gone to all this trouble on my account.
“I have chilled champagne in the wine fridge, would you like a glass?”
“Absolutely.”
“I hope you like warm spinach dip.” Max grabs a bottle of bubbly from his wine fridge and pops the cork with an expert hand before filling the flutes and handing me a glass.
“Thank you. It’s one of my all-time favorite appetizers.”
“We share something else in common.” He winks. “I thought I had tasted a few great recipes, but my personal chef has taken a simple appetizer to celestial levels. Marcello is a real magician in the kitchen. I’m warning you, one bite and you’ll be hooked. Every time he makes this for me when I have friends over, I can never convince my guests to go home. They want to camp at my door until Marcello returns the next day so they can beg him to prepare a new batch.”
“I thought dinner sounded over-the-top delicious, but your description of this spinach dip is beyond insane.”
“Should I call the paramedics right now before telling you about dessert?” he mocks.
“If it involves chocolate, you might as well call the cardiac surgery division at Mount Sinai Beth right now,” I say dramatically. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a self-confessed chocoholic.
“I’ve spent quite some time reading your articles and I’m quite aware of your love of chocolate, which is why I asked Marcello to prepare his mouthwatering melting cakes. He’s asked me to warm them up and top them with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and drizzle with a swirl of caramel sauce before serving them.” Max narrows his eyes, awaiting my reaction.
“Call 911 immediately.”
We both laugh.
“Seriously, Max, this whole menu sounds like a special feature from one of my favorite food-porn magazines.”
“Food porn?”
“Cooking magazines. People like myself who can’t cook to save their lives can still dream of impressing friends and family—that’s why I keep renewing my subscription every year.”
“I did good then by requesting the little cakes?”
“You did great.”
“If you want to sit at the table for dinner, I’ll bring the food over and we can dig in. It’s very informal and I hope you’re okay with things being so low-key.”
My God, I never go to this length for my friends even for special occasions. We have a different definition of informal.
BOOK 2—CURVY GIRLS DO IT BETTER
Chapter Three
Dinner is the second orgasmic experience Max has gifted me with in the last forty-eight hours. Every bite of the juicy brisket of beef is divine and I’ll admit this meal might have changed my negative perception of heirloom carrots forever.
I expect dessert to be decadent, but the first bite sends my body into shock. The combination of warm chocolate cake, cold vanilla ice cream and sweet caramel sauce is truly a dessert food-porn dreams are made of. I’ve yet to enjoy a five-star meal at an upscale restaurant in New York or anywhere else in the world, but I’m certain this unforgettable meal rivals any one of them.
“I totally understand where your friends are coming from. I think I’m also going to have to start camping at your door and begging your chef to feed me.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. I’ll be sure to let Marcello know his efforts didn’t go unnoticed. Why don’t we retreat to the couch? It will be far more enjoyable than these chairs. I’ll put on some music and we can finish our espressos while overlooking the view.”
“I love the way you think,” I say, extracting my body from the dining chair. Max must notice my struggle since he rushes to my side.
Perhaps the second bottle of champagne was overkill.
“Those darn high heels of yours,” he mocks, dropping his eyes to my feet.
“Right. The worst part is I’m addicted to them.” I’ll take any excuse in the book if it means feeling his hands wrapped around mine.
The plush dark grey L-shaped couch is conveniently located close to the window, allowing us to peek outside. Although Central Park is pitch black at this time of the night, New York never sleeps and the bright lights from the surrounding buildings illuminate the skyline. I’m so drunk with good food and tipsy from the bottles of Dom Pérignon, I kick off my high heels and stretch my legs out in front of me as I sink comfortably into the couch to rest my head.
“Who is singing?” I’m not a big music aficionado like Lexi, but I swear I’ve heard this song before.
“It’s Damn Your Eyes by British singer-songwriter Alex Clare. This album is a few years old, but his music is timeless.”
“I’m sure my girlfriend Lexi must own this album. She’s really into music.”
“And you?”
“I enjoy it and love discovering new artists, but I’m not hardcore like she is. My friend Devin is also into it, but I suspect it’s because his boyfriend is one of the top DJs in the city,” I say, closing my eyes for a second, soaking in this magical moment.
“I never meant to deceive you when we first met, Candy.”
“I’m sorry?” His confession comes as a surprise given the mellow mood floating in the air.
“When you walked into Vanilla Beans and I caught a glimpse of your curves, I was mesmerized. When I took a second look, I realized I knew you, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I’m not sure what your friend and you were giggling about, but when she sucked in her cheeks and stomach in and both of you started laughing hysterically, it hit me. I grabbed my phone and there you were on Sassy magazine’s website.”
I guess this is confession time. I sit up on his couch and tuck my legs to the side before frowning. “Why does a successful billionaire CEO waste time on silly girly articles, Max?” I should be flattered a rich and powerful man would recognize me, but this makes no sense.
“My uncle loved his business with all his heart—he was practically married to those three companies. I needed to make sure we were forming the right media partnership. True, I could have trusted one of my talented staff members to do research, but this is too personal. After reading a few of your quirky articles, it became clear why the plus-size section of Sassy is so successful—it’s thanks to you.”
“There you go again, throwing compliments my way and making me blush.”
“When I bumped into you at the Bymark hotel, I took advantage of the serendipitous moment to get
to know you better. I felt keeping the conversation light and fun would allow me to get to know the real Candy as opposed to someone trying to pitch me. I needed the peace of mind of knowing my family’s legacy was in good hands. I didn’t want to be another corporate account with deep pockets Sassy magazine used to jump on the new trend of honoring plus-size beauties. I needed to know you were real.”
“Was I real enough for you? Did I pass the test with flying colors, Max?” My ticked-off tone surprises me.
“You were very real. So much so, I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.” Without warning he slides his muscular body next to mine.
Damn. He had to go there.
“Sweet Candy.” Max kisses the side of my neck, sending ripples of desire straight to my nipples. “I have a suspicion I won’t be able to contain myself around you tonight either.”
My heart is beating five hundred miles per second as my breathing turns fast and shallow.
Bending over, he places a hard kiss on my lips and leaves me panting.
“What happened on the forty-first floor was…” I place my hands against his chest, trying to distance myself from him as I desperately try to keep some sense of control over the situation.
“What I’d give to fill my hands with your full breasts again, Candy,” he says, leaning so close he’s inches away from my lips.
“Max, this cannot ever happen again between us. You’re one of our biggest clients and I don’t want to screw things up.” I don’t even sound convincing to myself.
The thought of his long fingers slick with my wetness, sliding into my pussy, pushing deep inside me, makes me want to strip naked, drop down on my knees and suck him like I’ve never sucked another man in my life. Fuck, get a grip. One time was a mistake. Twice would be asking for trouble.
“Nice sentiment, but it’s a pretty worthless deterrent considering the look-at-me dress you’ve selected for the evening. Every flirty roll of your hips under this soft jersey dress is like an open invitation to seduce you again, Candy.”
“Please don’t,” I attempt to protest, pressing my palm against his chest to stop him from getting any closer.
“Do you know Françoise Sagan?”
“Huh? I can’t say I do.” Where is he going with his question?
“She was a French playwright, novelist, and screenwriter. Françoise and I share a common belief. A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men to take it off of a woman’s body. Honey, yours make me want to rip it off with my teeth.”
Jesus.
“The consequences of us hooking up again are more than I can handle.” I lick my lips and brush my hair away from my face. I’m suddenly burning up. His presence is overpowering.
His eyes are fixed on my lips and when they meet mine, I know he knows I’m bluffing. “Of course I understand your concern and that would be acceptable if I wasn’t so attracted to you.”
Oh, God. He’s not playing fair.
“I can’t put into words how much I enjoyed the hell out of having your warm, curvy body up against mine when I was claiming your lips. Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind picking up where we left off.”
“Max, you can’t talk to me this way.” I should be upset or even angry, but on the contrary, his naughty tease leaves me excited at the possibility of making out with him again—and frightened at the idea of losing my head like I did a few nights ago.
“I haven’t been able to erase the image of your jade-green eyes watching me as I played with your sweet pussy.”
“It was wrong. I shouldn’t have allowed things to get out of hand.” I force myself to block out how Max made me climax so hard my legs trembled for fifteen minutes straight. For the love of God, he’s not helping here.
“You came so hard on Thursday, I want to see you lose your composure again.”
Guilt slices through me the second he utters those words. I’m forced to relive the sweet moment his fingers plunged into my hungry pussy. He gave me an orgasm like I’d dreamt about for years, but I gave him nothing.
“Why the worried look?”
“I’m confused about Thursday.”
“I doubt there was any room for confusion, but I’ll humor you. What’s troubling you?” He brushes my hair behind my shoulders.
“I was never able to…” I hesitate for a few seconds. I’ve never had this type of conversation with a guy before and I’m not certain how best to put into words what’s been on my mind. “I thought men always wanted their needs met. I mean, you never came.”
I’m not sure what I expected him to say, but I surely never thought he’d laugh aloud at my confession.
“Sweet Candy, Thursday was about taking pleasure in seeing you take pleasure. If you’re so troubled, I can put your mind at ease. My cock is aching. The thought of teasing your soft pink nipples until you… Argh, your tits will be the end of me,” he growls, cupping his cock. “I can pull down my jeans and I’m sure you won’t feel this guilty once I come gushing into the back of your throat.” He smiles. “Nothing would bring me more pleasure than to hold your head while you take my cock between your luscious lips.”
“Max. Stop. I can’t take this anymore. You’re torturing me with your words.”
“You know what I think about you? I think you’ve only been fucked by inexperienced boys who need a GPS system to figure out how to pleasure a woman like you. The sublime way you melted in my arms tells me you’ve never been with a man who can control you—dominate you.”
“I don’t need to be dominated,” I babble. What kind of woman does he think I am?
“Why do you think you came so hard the other night? It’s because I dominated every single one of your senses for my own pleasure while making sure you’d enjoy the ride.”
He leans in again and threads his fingers in my hair. When he tightens his grip, I panic and try to wrench away. With a steady pull on my hair, Max forces me to lock eyes with him. I open my mouth to protest, but he beats me to it.
“No talking. From this point on, it’s all about enjoying each other,” he growls.
I press my thighs together to control my throbbing clit. His words are more potent than cocaine. Not only has he silenced me, he’s managed to turn me on so much I’m sure he could ignite me with his breath.
“Much better. Look at you. Feisty. Spirited. Sweet. Vulnerable. How am I supposed to resist you?” Max releases me as suddenly as he fisted my hair and leaves me trembling with desire. He cups my chin in his hand, leaning in to brush my lips. “Your body is quivering in my arms, which confirms you want me as much as I want you.”
Fuck.
“We can sit here all night and disagree on pros and cons of taking things further, or I can relieve my rock-hard erection inside your aching pussy. The choice is yours.”
I’m completely under his spell. His hazel eyes pin me to his couch even as his strong hand keeps my head from moving. His voice, his command and his assertiveness keep me silenced.
God, I’m going to melt if these waves of heat keep raging inside me.
I stare up at him helplessly and I know deep inside my core, if he wants to take me right here in front of this massive window overlooking the calmness of Central Park, I’d let him without protesting.
“I want you so badly,” I confess, unable to deny the yearning inside my soul.
“Good answer, sweetness.”
His finger runs over my lips, and I realize my mouth is open, my breathing fast. His cheeks crease in a smile and I can tell he has me exactly where he wants me.
He gets off the couch and bends down to scoop me up into his arms. My first reaction is to resist. God, I’m no lightweight.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can walk.”
“I’m sure you can. Trust me, I’ve been salivating over your hips under your clingy dress, but I want to carry you upstairs and throw your curvy body onto my mattress before I have my way with you. If you have a problem with that, deal with it.” The next thing I know Max flings me
over his shoulder and he’s climbing the gorgeous barn wood steps to his bedroom.
BOOK 2—CURVY GIRLS DO IT BETTER
Chapter Four
To my surprise, Max carries me up the flight of stairs leading to second floor as if I weigh twenty pounds.
He’s not huffing and puffing. I guess I’m worrying about my weight for no good reason.
We’ve barely stepped through the door of his bedroom when it’s kicked closed behind us and I’m pinned against the wall.
“Take off the dress so I can see which one of our creations you’re wearing,” he says, reaching out to touch something against the wall.
How did he know?
I’m about to protest when I notice in panic that he’s turning on the lights in the room before dimming them slightly.
Oh, God, I don’t have sex the first time with lights on. I much prefer the safety of darkness until I’m more at ease being naked in front of a new lover.
“Whoa. Your bedroom is impeccable and is so well decorated.” I latch on to the décor as a way out of this situation, but he reads me like a book.
“Candy, do you have a problem with me admiring your gorgeous naked body?”
Well, when you put it in such flattering terms, maybe a little light won’t hurt. I shake my head, too shy to answer, and he grins from ear to ear.
“Good. Now, take the dress off. I want to watch you strip and to be seduced by your naughty lingerie.”
Damn, he always finds the perfect words to make me feel so sexy. I smile from under my lashes, slowly turning around and gathering my hair over my left shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“You asked me to remove my dress,” I answer, confused.
“I want to devour you with my eyes as you slip out of your dress. Don’t you dare deny me the pleasure,” he says in a commanding voice.
“When you say such intoxicating things, it’s impossible for me to refuse you.” I turn around.
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