Lush Curves 3: Making Waves (A BBW Erotic Romance)

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Lush Curves 3: Making Waves (A BBW Erotic Romance) Page 2

by Delilah Fawkes


  Aolani stood up, muddy trails trickling down her stomach onto her bikini bottom, the droplets working their way down her smooth thighs. She jogged over to Sandra and Thomas, and bent over them, murmuring as they showed her the digital images.

  “Gavin?” she called.

  “Mm?” I tried to look casual, as if the whole affair bored me, rather than the less-than-savory truth.

  “The whole point of this campaign is sort of… well… decadence, right? ‘Live beautifully’ is your way of saying ‘live luxuriously”… I mean, with lust and passion and all that jazz, right?”

  Her cheeks colored a little as she spoke, but her gaze was steady, her smile firm. Confident. Professional.

  I cleared my throat again. This woman saw right through me. Knew what I wanted in ways even I couldn’t express to my own team.

  “Precisely,” I said.

  “Then, would you mind if we tried something a little different?”

  “Please,” I said, gesturing toward the camera.

  She turned back to the crew, and spoke lowly to Thomas. He nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

  “That’s awesome,” Stephen said, his voice awed.

  “You’re brave, girlie,” Sandra said, and snorted a laugh.

  “Let’s do this before I change my mind,” Aolani said, and moved back before the camera.

  Sweat sprang out on my brow, and I wiped it quickly away with my forearm.

  Aolani prostrated herself in the mud again, this time rolling a bit from side to side, to make sure a bit of sandy wetness crept up the globes of her breasts, and the luscious curve of her hips. Then, she reached back, and untied the strings that held her bikini top in place. She covered herself with the arm closest to the camera, cupping her full breasts, now spilling over, then brought one string to her mouth and nibbled the end, grinning wickedly, her hair tangling into wild curls cascading down her naked back.

  I whimpered.

  Thomas gave another thumbs up and began clicking away. Snap. Snap. Snap.

  His voice saying “Yeah! Perfect,” every two seconds was starting to fray my last nerve. I’d give my left bollock to get rid of them all, and damn the bloody campaign. This was torture, pure and simple.

  “Have we got it?” My voice was a guttural croak, my hands covered in sweat where I’d been clenching them into fists.

  “Yeah, boss,” Thomas said, grinning at me. “This gal here is brilliant. That was the one, for sure.”

  “Then, let’s wrap up for the day,” I said. My short nails dug into my palms. “Great work, everyone!”

  The crew members nodded and started chatting, milling about among the equipment. Aolani cupped her top to her chest and sat up, smiling at some comment from Sandra, but I couldn’t hear. All I wanted to hear was the sound of the equipment cases snapping closed, and their footsteps pounding away into the distance.

  “Aolani,” I said. “May I have a private word?”

  She nodded, then looked around her, presumably for a robe. She’d come without it, and I could see the realization dawning on her. Her eyes went wide, and she pursed her lips.

  “Mm hmm. Sure. No problem.”

  “See you for dinner, guys,” Thomas shouted.

  He and the others were packed up and wandering back to the house. I waved back.

  Bloody finally.

  I took Aolani by the arm and led her further into the underbrush, away from the prying eyes of the mansion. When we were finally alone, I turned to her, and by the sly way she smiled, I knew she could see the lust burning in my eyes.

  “Take the suit off,” I growled.

  I had to take her, to possess her, here and now. My cock jumped at the thought, and I bit back a groan.

  Aolani didn’t speak. Didn’t protest. Didn’t say yes.

  Her arm fell, her bikini top dropping from those perfect breasts all the communication I needed. I reached forward and yanked roughly on the bow at her hip, then the other, before tearing the olive fabric away and tossing it into the mud.

  She trembled naked before me, but it wasn’t fear that made her shake. Her eyes mirrored mine—the bald, animalistic need in them a reflection of my own fevered thoughts.

  I pulled my shirt over my head, and her hands were on me, her fingernails scraping over my pecs and abs. I grabbed her plump, round arse and lifted her up, grinding against her as I growled my impatience in her ear. Her legs went around my waist, her arms gripping my shoulders hard, and I dropped to my knees, throwing her onto her back beneath me in the mud.

  Her hands went between us, guiding me out, gripping my stiffness in a way that made me groan.

  “Aolani…” I said through gritted teeth.

  I hunched over her, pressing her thighs back, and in one swift motion, thrust into her up to the hilt. She gasped beneath me, those soft lips parted, urging me onward. I captured her mouth as I pulled out and thrust again, loving the way she opened beneath me, submitting to me, her body gripping me as I let myself go in her arms.

  Everything was sweat and heat, the coolness of the mud on my knees and forearms, the softness of her body, her breasts crushed against my chest. The sound of her panting breaths filled my ears, along with the slap of skin on skin, the bite of her nails on my back, the delicious ache in my balls as I gave in to my blistering need.

  My tongue matched the rhythm of our bodies, gliding over hers, mimicking our lovemaking as I pumped deep inside of her. She tasted sweet, like tropical fruit, and I suckled on her bottom lip, making her moan. She reached down and squeezed my backside, pulling me into her, needing me, needing more.

  I picked up the pace, fucking her like a wild man, holding her waist in my grip until her back arched. I sat up, pulling her hips to meet me, grunting as I gave her all I had, pumping in and out again and again. Her breasts moved with the rhythm of our rutting, mesmerizing in the sparkling dots of light filtering through the trees.

  She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream, and I knew she must be close. I reached between us and thumbed her most sensitive spot, flicking her clit again and again until she bit her lip, her eyes scrunching closed beneath me. I pinched it hard, and felt her tighten around me. She cried out, her voice a breathy moan, and I felt her contract around me, milking my cock, begging for my release to match her own.

  I gripped her hips hard and pumped once then again, then slammed home, groaning at the feel of her. My cock twitched and I felt the familiar tightening in my balls, and then I was cumming with her, spilling inside of her as she convulsed around me, still riding out the last tremors of her orgasm.

  I lowered her back down, gently, still inside of her, basking in the warmth of her body, and leaned down to kiss those lips once more. I knew the crew was waiting inside—that this was far from appropriate behavior on my part—but for now, I wanted to shove that all aside and just be content, losing myself here with her for just a few moments more.

  She moaned softly against my mouth, then smiled, her eyelids heavy and sensual.

  “You’re amazing,” I said, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  She squeezed my bum again. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  I gave her another thrust, and she squealed, then laughed as I grinned down at her.

  “See what you do to me? I’m not a man when I’m around you, Aolani. I’m a crazed beast.”

  I leaned down and bit her on the neck, growling. She held me close, half screeching, half laughing, wrapping her legs around me, keeping me near. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair, my hands exploring her soft skin, trying not to think about the long, muddy walk back to the house.

  Trying not to think about my life, my memories always threatening to break the surface—nothing other than this. This singular moment, breathing together in the mud, alone with her in the jungle.

  ***

  Aolani

  My heart was still pounding as we ate dinner with the crew, my core aching deliciously from the rough lovemaking in the mud
even after a long, luxurious shower. We’d slipped in through the kitchen, then up the back staircase to the master suites, thankfully escaping notice. Gavin’s pants had been splattered with sand and grime, his shirt sopping from where he dropped it, and I look like I’d just stepped out of a mud bath.

  We were a ridiculous sight, and anyone who’d seen us wouldn’t have had to work hard to put two and two together.

  Would it be so bad? I thought, sipping my glass of wine. Would it be such an awful thing if they knew?

  For one moment, I let myself daydream about being Gavin Fletcher’s woman. Of walking arm and arm with him through this gorgeous mansion, of kissing him whenever I pleased, and not worrying about who might be watching. Of his arm on the small of my back, smiling down at me as we talked about the next shoot with Thomas and the gang.

  I sighed and picked at my seared mahi mahi. It would never be like that, though, would it? I’d be “that girl who slept with the boss to get ahead.” No one would ever take me seriously again. I might as well kiss any networking opportunities from this gig goodbye.

  I couldn’t risk it, no matter how amazing it was to imagine a world where I didn’t have to hide what was going on between us.

  Gavin’s warm laugh brought me out of my thoughts. He’d just finished some story about sailing off the shores of Scotland, but I realized I hadn’t been paying attention. I laughed along with everyone else, and looked down at my food.

  Could I keep this up? Or would it be smarter to just make a clean break before things got too serious?

  I stabbed a bit of mango from my plate and pushed it around the delicate wasabi sauce Gavin’s private chef, Bimla, had made. It was one of the most delicious meals I’d ever had, but I felt like I couldn’t enjoy it. I was a ball of nerves, raw and distracted.

  Professional Aolani said Get out, you crazy bitch! while free-spirited me protested. My heart hurt at the thought, which was definitely not a good sign. This wasn’t just lust any more, was it?

  I thought of the way he’d held me, kissed me, after we’d come apart in each others embrace… the way he’d rested against me, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be than there with me. I thought of his scent when my lips were on his skin, of the strength in his arms when he claimed me, of the way he said my name with that look in his eyes that told me I was all he ever wanted…

  Oh, God. I’m so, so screwed.

  Because as bad as I knew this was, I didn’t think I could help myself. Gavin was just too good to give up, no matter what the consequences. Despite my fears, I knew he was worth the risk.

  ***

  We mingled on the patio facing the ocean, the torches and the sound of the water lapping at the shore creating a relaxed ambiance I thought I could get very used to.

  Sandra and I walked along the edge of the pool, away from the men, sipping savingnon blanc and talking about the campaign.

  “Your idea turned into the best shot of the day,” she said, grinning at me.

  Her eyes crinkled in a way that made me smile back automatically. No bullshit in that smile, I thought.

  “If you guys didn’t make me feel so comfortable, I think I would have died from embarrassment long ago. Thanks for making me feel so welcome here.”

  “It’s our pleasure. Plus, it’s nice to have another woman along. Stephen and Thomas are great guys, but you’re the only one who doesn’t let one rip whenever they feel like it. And that’s something I appreciate in a friend.”

  She glared over at them, and I laughed.

  “I bet that’s just amazing in a small, confined studio.”

  “You have no idea,” she said. “Thank God we’re doing most of these shoots outside…”

  We snickered together, glancing back at Stephen, who was getting loudly drunk on the other side of the porch, plying the yacht crew for sea tales. She and I fell into a comfortable silence, looking out over the ocean, the stars overhead lighting the edges of the waves.

  “Sandra, do you really think it was my idea that got the shot?”

  “Hell yeah,” she said. “Thomas is a great photographer, but he’s rubbish when it comes to directing his models. If they don’t know how to pose their own bodies, he can’t contribute much. Someone who knows what shot they’re looking for right away has got the full package.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “Good to know.”

  She looked at me, her lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re a photographer, aren’t you?”

  I smiled and looked out at the black waves rushing up into the sand just meters away.

  “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. But, I’m still working my way there, you know? I was an assistant when Gavin decided to make me a model. Lord only knows why,” I said, my laugh a little higher than usual.

  “Good for you,” she said.

  I looked into her face, noting the shrewd smile as she looked me over, and for a moment, I felt like she understood me. Like I had an ally here who really knew what I was after.

  “In these next shoots, keep your ideas coming. If the shots are good, I’ll make sure you get recognized for it. Doesn’t hurt to have your name mentioned on a campaign like this one,” she said.

  I grinned ear to ear. “T-thank you. I will. Just… thanks.”

  She took a swig of her wine. “Don’t mention it.”

  Gavin’s brogue met my ears, and I turned back toward the guys. He was the one telling the story now, his face animated, although I couldn’t quite catch what he was saying.

  “I wonder what’s up with him lately,” Sandra said, bringing me back. “He’s seemed so much happier than he usually is. Less burdened, maybe.”

  Gavin’s laugh floated over the surface of the pool, followed by Stephen’s too-loud barking laughter.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. He didn’t used to smile so much.” She furrowed her brow glancing at him, then shrugged. “Who knows, right? Maybe it’s just being on the island again. If I had a house like this, I’d be happy, too.”

  “No kidding,” I said. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling.

  Gavin Fletcher was happy.

  Well, I thought. That definitely makes two of us.

  ***

  Gavin

  I was on my third glass of Scotch and the world was starting to feel fantastic. I was telling an enthusiastic Stephen about my granddad’s sailing adventures, and had just gotten to the story where he’d helped take back a vessel of the Royal Navy from the Japanese when I saw Aolani walking back toward the house with Sandra.

  “Aolani,” I said. “If you’re going by my room, could you do me a favor?”

  She nodded, her full lips curving into a smile.

  “My grandad’s medal is in my dresser drawer by the bed. Would you mind bringing it out? I want to show these lads what The King’s Commendation for Brave Conduct looks like.”

  “Well, will you tell me what it looks like?”

  I grinned and took another sip of Scotch, enjoying the buzz and my rapt audience. “It’s a silver laurel leaf about yea big.” I held my fingers an inch apart.

  “I’m on the job, boss,” she said, and disappeared with another sexy smile.

  God, but I could watch that woman’s backside swaying away from me all day and be a happy man.

  I turned back to Stephen and Thomas, and laughed at the expression on the younger man’s face.

  “What happened? He actually fought the Japanese navy? From his schooner?”

  His eyes widened as I nodded. “Well, he helped, lad. He saw an officer in the water, clinging to a life preserver, who looked like he was about ten minutes away from giving up and slipping beneath the waves. When he dragged him aboard, he got the full story—they’d been attacked the morning before, and his crew was taken prisoner aboard their own vessel. Well, my granddad couldn’t just let members of His Majesty’s navy be left behind, so he radioed it into shore…”

  “How did the officer escape? Did the Japanese let him go, or did he dive overboard?”<
br />
  Stephen was talking fast, his cheeks a rosy shade they hadn’t been just a few hours before. I chuckled to myself and sipped my drink, the smoky flavor of the liquid filling my senses. I’m glad I’m not the only one enjoying myself tonight, I thought. I’d just introduced the lad to his first Scotch, and it would have been a shame if he didn’t indulge a bit.

  I paused dramatically, enjoying the flickering torchlight, and the shadows it cast over my crew. Today had been one of the best days I’d had in a long while, and I wanted to savor every moment.

  I leaned in and began telling the tale. The officer being knocked overboard in a bayonet fight. Blood in the water. Sharks circling when Grandad found him…

  “Gavin.”

  Aolani stood in the doorway, her face obscured by shadow.

  “Did you find it?”

  “Gavin, please. I need to talk to you.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but judging by her tone, I set my scotch down and made my excuses. Aolani guided me to the upstairs hallway and into my room. It was quiet up here, the others still on the patio enjoying the evening. She clicked the door shut and turned to face me, her black eyes glittering with unshed tears.

  “What’s this?” she said.

  She held out her hand, and suddenly, my world came sharply into focus again, the glimmer of gold on her palm clearing the fog in my head as quickly as a slap in the face. I opened my mouth to explain, but all I could think about was how different that ring would have looked resting on Fiona’s pale palm, or sliding down over her delicately freckled finger.

  A lump lodged itself in my throat.

  “Gavin… Wow, I don’t even know how to ask this… Are you…” Aolani paused, her eyes glinting dangerously. “Are you married?”

  I swallowed, trying to tamp down the anger and sadness boiling up inside of me. “You weren’t supposed to find that.”

  “Oh? Really?” Aolani reeled back as if I’d slapped her. “I wasn’t supposed to find your wedding ring? No fucking kidding, Gavin.”

  “It’s…”

  I wanted to snatch it out of her hand. To get it safely back inside it’s velvet pouch and clutch it to my chest. To get it away from her hurt stare. To put it back into the tiny safe place I’d created for it. The place where I kept the pain at bay.

 

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