Gabby looked toward the doorway where Scarlet’s mates and the Captain had disappeared, then back at Scarlet. “No. But it’s only Saturday morning. We’ve got a few more days, right?”
“Uh huh.” She didn’t believe those words for a second. “Right.”
“Whatever.” Her sister pegged her with a strawberry. “So, I figured you did the mating thing last night, I can grab a pair today, and we’ll sort out Whitney. Get this shit wrapped in time for our flight on Sunday.”
Whitney tossed a grape at Gabby. “Crass much?” She popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. “So, how’s mating?”
Scarlet thought about it for a minute, replayed their night of lovemaking, kissing and caressing and coming... “Squishy.”
A sense of male satisfaction crept into her mind, and her clit twitched. Yeah, she could deal with squishy for a long, long, lemme-come-some-more time.
The End
About the Author: Celia Kyle
Ex-dance teacher, former accountant and erstwhile collectible doll salesperson, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Celia Kyle now writes paranormal romances for readers who:
1) Like super hunky heroes (they generally get furry)
2) Dig beautiful women (who have a few more curves than the average lady)
3) Love laughing in (and out of) bed.
It goes without saying that there's always a happily-ever-after for her characters, even if there are a few road bumps along the way.
Today she lives in Central Florida and writes full-time with the support of her loving husband and two finicky cats.
If you'd like to be notified of new releases, special sales, and get a FREE ebook, subscribe here: http://celiakyle.com/news
You can find Celia online at:
http://celiakyle.com/
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If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:
Alpha Marked #2: Gabriella
Thirty and single? Getcha ass to the Gathering!
Ugh. Gabriella Wickham thought turning thirty was bad enough, but now she’s been invited (ordered) to attend this year’s Gathering (werewolf speed dating). Having a Mark on her arm means that she’s one of the few human women destined to mate with not one, but two Alpha werewolves. Thank goodness werewolves don’t come in “ugly.” After her sister Scarlet mates the Ruling Alphas, things really start to get interesting. Gabby runs into not one, but two hotter than hot werewolves who make her tingle in all the right places. Yum. Of course, “yum” comes with baggage of both the mental and female kind. Lovely. Luckily it’s nothing a few punches and a good talking to can’t cure. Maybe...-ish.
Berke Davis and Jack Wright know that lush, curvaceous Gabriella is their mate. Who cares that they’re currently not part of an Alpha pair? Details, details. Burke has been half bound to his best friend Jack since they were four, but the past keeps them from solidifying their pairing and taking up the mantle of Alpha. Berke understands his friend’s feelings, but Jack is about to get a lesson on living and loving. Berke just hopes the lessons are learned before they both lose Gabriella. Especially when she is Challenged by a rival to first blood...a Challenge that could end in very permanent, and deadly, consequences...for Gabriella.
Curvy, Crazy, and Confused by Ava Catori
Chapter 1
Samantha pulled the door shut behind her while trying to juggle her bag and coffee mug. It was her favorite, the one with a grumpy bulldog on it complaining about mornings. Thankfully it was spill proof, saving her from the splash of hot coffee as she spun toward the elevator.
Turning just in time to see the doors open, she called out to her neighbor, “Ooh, hold the door.”
Christopher Remy’s eyes grew wide. There was no polite way to hide it as he reached for the ‘close doors’ button. If he was quick enough, they’d close before she got there. He willed them to move faster, unable to handle her kind of nonsense this early in the morning. She was like the thorn on a rose stem. After pricking your finger, it would jar you just enough to be annoyed, but not really do any serious damage.
“Wait!” She yelled, now seconds from making it. “Hey! I saw that.” She slammed her hand with the mug in front of the door before it could close completely. The doors started to reopen. “What’s your problem?” She glared at her neighbor.
Christopher rolled his eyes and looked away. Damn this slow elevator.
“Seriously, that was rude! You saw me coming.” Her voice whined with the abrasiveness of a ragged nail file. She wasn’t interested in polite conversation, only in letting him know what a jerk he was.
Christopher said nothing. He wasn’t her biggest fan. This was the same girl that parked her stupid dog grooming van in the spot he’d parked in for two years straight. It was the perfect balance of sun and shade, tucked in the corner of the lot so other people didn’t park too close.
Ever since she came around a few months ago, nothing was the same. She took his spot, she was loud, and more than anything, she always had an opinion, and rarely an important or well thought out one. She seemed to blurt out whatever was on her mind, forcing those around her to listen to her nonsense.
“That tie doesn’t go with your outfit,” she snorted. Asshole. He saw me coming. What’s his problem anyway?
Christopher still said nothing. As the elevator descended, he counted the seconds. The building was only four stories high, but the antiquated elevator seemed to run at a snail’s pace, sluggish and painfully slow.
Click, click, clack... The elevator jerked to a stop.
“What the...?” Great. I don’t have time for this. The last person Sam wanted to be stuck in the elevator with was some uptight, boring guy who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. It’s not like she had time to spare, anyway. She had an appointment to get to, and running late on the first appointment would set her back the entire day. Every single client would be inconvenienced because of a time delay. Sam hated things that were out of her control.
Christopher fanatically pushed all the buttons. “Nothing,” he groaned. Picking up the emergency phone, he rang maintenance. Nobody answered. “Are you kidding me?” His voice noticeably raised an octave.
“Does this happen often?” Sam’s annoyance was obvious. Her statement was punctuated with a deep exaggerated sigh, the kind a teenager with a chip on her shoulder might use.
“No.” His fingers pried at his collar. What happened to all the oxygen? He couldn’t breathe. Okay, so maybe there wasn’t less oxygen yet, but there would be. She would be sucking up all of the air. Beads of sweat formed on his palms almost immediately, just another reminder of his inner panic. Keep calm!
“Are you okay?” Sam looked over. He was getting twitchy.
“Yes.” Refusing to look at the oxygen sucker, he controlled his breathing with small, shallow bits of air. Maybe if he used less oxygen with each breath, it would last longer. Picking up the phone, he tried maintenance again. Thankfully somebody answered.
Sam could only hear one side of the conversation.
“What? That long? Can you please ask them to make it a priority?” Hanging up the phone, he turned toward Sam, who casually sipped her coffee as if nothing was wrong. She was breathing in way too much oxygen. Of all the people to get stuck with, an air hog.
“Do you have to breathe so deeply?” The whine in his voice was less than flattering.
“What?” He can’t be serious.
“It’s just that if we’re stuck here for a while...it’s just a precaution. You should try to use less oxygen.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” Sam couldn’t hide her disbelief.
“You don’t have to mock me.” Christopher turned to face the other way. Why her? Why did it have to be her? He shook his head. “Just...it’s going to be about an hour.”
“An hour? I don’t have an hour to kill. I’ve got a dog to groom.” Sam dug out her phone to call her client.
> “Right, I’m sorry. I’m stuck in an elevator. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Right, I understand if you need to reschedule. Right...okay, see you in an hour.”
Scrunching down to the floor, Samantha sat. This was not how she wanted to spend the next hour. She watched the man across from her tugging at his collar.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” He wouldn’t make eye contact. “I may not be fond of small, tight spaces, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Small? Tight? You could fit ten more people in here easily.”
Christopher breathed deeply and wiped his palms across his slacks, slicking off the beads of sweat.
“Are you claustrophobic?”
“What makes you say that?” He shot defensively.
“Gee, I don’t know... the buckets of sweat pouring off of you, the way you’re panicking and breathing like a hyena...”
“I am not breathing like a hyena, thank you very much.” He paused. “And so what if I am? It doesn’t change anything. There’s no point dwelling on the fact.”
“Look, the way I see it, you could park your bottom on the floor here, relax and let time pass, or you can stand there tied up in a knot and drive yourself crazy. Why don’t you sit down and talk? Take your mind off the situation.”
He eyed her warily.
“I’m not a freaking cannibal. I’m not going to have you for lunch. What’s your problem?”
“You’re breathing too much. You’ll use up all of our air.”
Oh boy. “Come on,” she lowered her voice, trying to soothe him. “Sit down. Distraction will do wonders for you.”
Christopher sunk to the ground. “Christopher Remy,” he introduced, sticking his sweaty palm out.
Sam looked at it. “I’ll pass. You’re a bit...dewy. I’m Samantha, but you can call me Sam.”
“You’re the dog groomer, right?” He knew exactly who was parking in his favorite spot. He’d just pretend like he didn’t. They’d been neighbors for a long time, but normally he tried to avoid the girl.
“Yep. What do you do?”
“I crunch numbers.”
“Ah, exciting stuff.”
“Stable. Secure. Safe.” He corrected.
“I take it you’re not an adrenaline junkie.”
“Not especially.”
She tried to make small talk, but every topic she started, he shut her down. Zero personality. This guy was like talking to a wet washcloth. She had nothing else to say. She wanted to make it better for him, but she just had no interest in talking to this guy, the very guy who tried to close her out of the elevator. Then she found a topic. “Why don’t you like me? Why were you trying to close the doors before I could get in the elevator?”
Well, this is awkward, Christopher thought. He didn’t think he’d get stuck here with the girl. “I’m not really a small talk kind of guy.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Sam pulled out her phone and texted Becky. “I’m stuck in elevator with the most boring man in America.”
“How long of a ride is it?” Becky answered.
“Don’t know. It got stuck.”
“Yikes.”
“Too bad I didn’t get stuck with a hot, sexy guy who wanted to tear my clothes off and use the time wisely.”
“Hey, want to get a pedicure with me on Saturday?”
“Sure, what time?”
Eventually they heard workmen. When the elevator lurched and finally lowered, Sam was good and ready to leave. Christopher was appallingly bad company. Between glaring at her for breathing and sweating like an angry poodle, she was more than happy to go her own way.
Christopher glanced at the woman beside him. Her pudgy, curved body wasn’t the kind he usually found attractive, but on her it wasn’t bad. Too bad she was a noisy, opinionated, parking spot stealer.
The entire day was starting poorly. He was already late for work. If she didn’t make him hold the elevator, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
Chapter 2
“I swear, it was like medieval torture. Getting a fork to the eye would have been easier. Heck, swimming with sharks and barracudas would have been a picnic after that. Trying to find a date for Winnie would be easier.” Sam sighed heavily.
“By the way, how is Winnie doing?” Becky asked.
“Eh, she could be better. I think they’re about to break up. She gave him an ultimatum, and I don’t think it went over well.”
“Ah, the old ultimatum route. Sorry to hear that. They’re an interesting couple.”
“Yeah. She’s definitely her own person, but Oscar seemed like a good match for her. Well, at least for a while. Lately, I’m not so sure. Hey, maybe you could set her up if they don’t work things out?”
“Umm, yeah, that’s not happening. Besides, they didn’t break up yet.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” Sam winced. “Just think about it. She’s going to be in a mood, and you know how she gets.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“So you’ll do it if she finds herself single?”
“No. Not going to happen.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know I’ll be the one to suffer, right?”
Winnie was a mutual friend they’d known from school. When she moved away, Becky cheered, but when she moved back, she got sucked into being friends with her again. Well, friendly. She was friendly with her, but only because Sam made her be. Samantha and Winnie understood each other. Becky more or less tolerated the girl. Winnie was different. Feminine charms were not her specialty; you might even call her burly and gruff, and a little too direct. She has the charm of a snarling saber tooth tiger, when you’re standing there with a grocery bag full of meat. You don’t know whether to run and hide, or throw things at her to save yourself.
At the salon, the girls made their way back to the pedicure thrones when it was their turn. Climbing up, Sam caught a bird’s eye view of the manicurist’s rack. Holy cow, put some clothes on, she thought. Maybe it was the angle, but the girl had cleavage bubbling out all over. Sam looked over at Becky, who seemed oblivious. She was bending over looking for a magazine, shuffling through the stack beside her.
“Becks,” Sam whispered.
Becky looked over. Sam nudged her head toward the woman. “Look,” she mouthed.
“Wow.” Becky mouthed back, praying the girl didn’t see them commenting.
There was major spillage going on there. Sam was relieved when the woman wrapped a black apron around herself. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to look away. She was caught like a deer in headlights. Speaking of headlights...she wanted to poke one to see if they were real.
Tearing her eyes away from the flesh quivering like jelly, Sam played catch up with Becky. “Details,” she said. “Spit them out.”
“I’ve told you everything, and shared the pictures.”
“Not everything. There was one night that was unaccounted for.”
“Huh?”
“Wedding night?”
“Oh, honestly, we were both so tired that we fell asleep in each other’s arms and didn’t have sex.”
“You didn’t have sex on your wedding night?” Sam was horrified. “I hope that’s not bad luck. How could you not have sex on your wedding night?”
Becky flushed as the jelly-boobed woman commented, “No sex on honeymoon?”
“Plenty of sex on honeymoon,” she corrected. “No sex on wedding night. What?” She got defensive. “We were tired.”
“Bad sign,” the woman said, and then went back to what she was doing.
What does she know? She practically wears her boobs on the outside of her shirt. Becky wanted to poke one. Would it jiggle?
The warm water bath felt great, and as the girl massaged her legs and feet, Sam closed her eyes. She needed to do this more often. She picked a candied apple color for her toes, and smiled as she watched it being applied. She liked the shimmer and shine of wet polish. Becky went with a soft pink this ti
me.
Finishing up and leaving the pedicure shop, cotton wound between their toes, they walked carefully in their temporary flip-flops.
Sam said what Becky was thinking. “I wanted to poke one.”
“Oh my gosh, me too!”
They laughed. “They were all quivery. Mine aren’t like that,” Becky said.
“No, yours are firm and have a better shape.”
“Thank you.”
“What about mine?” Sam quizzed.
“What about them?”
Sam was horrified when Becky didn’t answer.
“Fine, if I must. You have gorgeous, asymmetrical breasts that any man would die for. But I do not, however, want to poke your boob.”
“Oh sure. You’d poke jiggly chick’s boob, but not mine? Some friend you are.” Samantha pouted.
“Do you want me to poke your boob? Will it make you feel better?” Becky sighed. How had they gotten here?
“Well, only in theory. Keep your fingers to yourself, but you can at least want to poke them to see how they felt compared to the other chick’s boobs. I am your best friend.”
“Sometimes I question myself about that.” Becky grinned.
“So, what’s next for you guys?”
“Reed is working on growing his business, and mine has picked up more clients, but it’s still not where I want it to be. Ooh, I did have another successful match!”
“That’s great. Anyone I know?”
“Yeah, actually Jonathon met his match.”
“Wow, that’s great news. He was a nice guy, and some girl just got really lucky in bed.”
“Hopefully she can deal with his girly laugh more than you could. Either way, they sent me a note saying that they really appreciate me hooking them up.”
“Well, look at you!”
“What about you? Did you hear back from...”
Sam’s hand shot up. “Don’t go there. I want nothing to do with him, anyway. It’s a shame crappy neighbor is so blah; he’s kind of cute. His personality is lacking though, so why bother?”
“Have you seen the elevator guy since the other day?”
Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads Page 24
