Change Of Plans (New Adult BBW Romance)

by Hunter, Adriana

  Change Of Plans

  A BBW New Adult Romance

  By Adriana Hunter

  Copyright © 2015, Adriana Hunter

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Tangled Press

  http://www.AdrianaHunter.com

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  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including events, areas, locations and situations is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Other Books By Adriana Hunter

  Chapter One

  As Callie stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk of Madison Avenue, she realized that for the first time in over seven years, she was dreading going to work.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the steel and glass skyscraper that stretched into the air like a javelin, piercing the bright blue sky that was only faintly dotted with clouds. A chilly winter breeze tugged at her hair, nipping at her nose while it teased her nostrils with the scent of kebabs wafting from a nearby food cart. The smells and sounds of people swirled around her, and she felt like she was standing in a storm of fragrance and body odor and chatter and electronic beeps and whistles.

  Such was daily life in the Big Apple, and normally she would be charging straight through the throng, heading for the double doors of 41 Madison, skyrocketing up to her office on the 36th floor. She would sit at her desk, read through the emails and query letters and manuscripts that had already been cherry picked by her assistant, and make her clients and publishers happy by striking some amazing publishing deals. Those deals were what she lived for, what got her to spring out of bed every morning and hit the pavement with a bounce in her stiletto-clad step.

  But this morning, as she pushed through the double doors of her building and headed for the elevator, the click of her stilettos against the white tile floor were dull, and her shoulders slumped as she boarded the elevator with a sigh. The sight of the Hudson River winding in the distance, clearly visible through the panes of the glass elevator, did absolutely nothing to distract her from the fact that for the past through weeks, she hadn’t found a single gem worthy of an offer in the slush pile that was on her desk.

  Sure, she had some good deals on the table, and there were a couple of authors she was working through revisions with in preparation for the submission stage, but it had been some time since she’d come across a story she’d fallen in love with, and it was really dragging her down. Her thirst for spicy romances was what drove her, and what made her the best romance and erotica agent Bright Star Media Group had ever hired. She had a knack for finding the best and the brightest jewels, and always beat out the other agents in the amount of deals she struck with publishers every year.

  Damn right you do, a voice in her head said as the elevator dinged, signaling her floor. And there’s no reason to let this minor slump get you down in the dumps.

  That’s right, she realized, and she squared her shoulders as she stepped off the elevator and onto the 36th floor. Rather than a hallway, she was greeted by an open floor plan that was dominated by cubicles. In every one of those cubicles an agent or assistant sat at a desk, reviewing query letters, marking up manuscripts and responding to emails. The air buzzed with activity as copies were made, contracts were printed, and agents chattered busily on the phone with authors, editors and marketing directors.

  It was another busy day at Bright Star Media Group. And she’d be damned if she was going to do anything less than embrace the frenzied energy wholeheartedly and kick some serious literary butt.

  Head held high, she made her way over to her office, stopping briefly to nod or greet fellow coworkers, and to grab a cup of coffee from the company kitchen. As one of the top agents, she was lucky enough to have her own office, a spacious room with glass walls that offered an amazing view of Madison Square Park. Settling herself in her cushy tan leather chair behind her white oak computer desk, she booted up her computer and prepared herself to slog through the daily grind that was her email inbox.

  Not the daily grind, she reminded herself firmly. A treasure trove of opportunities. The next bestselling romance could be lurking somewhere in these cyber-depths!

  “Good morning, Callie!” Lucinda Brown, her assistant, breezed in, carrying a brown paper bag that Callie knew from experience contained an egg and cheese croissant and a fruit bowl – her usual breakfast. “Was hoping to have this hear waiting for you, but looks like you got here first!” She set the paper bag down on Callie’s desk with a smile, showing off her dimples. Her bright red hair and sparkling green eyes were the polar opposite of Callie’s chestnut curls and dark blue irises, but Callie didn’t resent Lucinda for her fresh-faced beauty; the young woman had a way of lifting Callie’s spirits no matter what was going on.

  “Thank you.” Callie smiled back as she dug the croissant out of the bag. She took a bite, letting the combination of cheesy egg and buttery pastry permeate her taste buds, and closed her eyes in bliss. “Mmm. You’re a godsend.”

  Lucinda laughed. “You’re too easy,” she teased, and then gestured toward the computer screen. “Just wait until you check out some of the query letters I’ve filtered out for you. I have a feeling you’re going to find something pretty juicy to sink your teeth into today!”

  “Oh really?” Callie’s eyes lit up as she swiveled around to face her computer, her sandwich already forgotten on her desk. Nine times out of ten, if Lucinda said something was juicy, it usually was. She was going to make a fine literary agent someday. “Which one is it?”

  “I’m not telling.” Lucinda winked, then turned and sauntered out of the room. “If you want to know, you’re just going to have to find it yourself!” she called over her shoulder.

  “Brat,” Callie muttered with a grin. Rolling up the sleeves of her white silk blouse, she delved into her emails, determined to find this amazing query letter before lunch.

  Chapter Two

  “Do you like that?” Logan asked, his husky voice rough as he whispered in her ear. He gave her earlobe a tug with his teeth as he spanked her again, the crack of his palm reverberating throughout the bedroom.

  “Yes!” Amanda cried, her legs trembling so hard she thought her knees might collapse. She didn’t dare let them though, and instead stayed right where she was, bent over the bed with her elbows resting on the edge of the mattress, her feet planted firmly on the floor, legs spread apart as she offered her bare ass up to her lover. “More!”

  His palm came down on her left cheek again, and then her right, picking up the pace with quick, sharp slaps as he alternated between her cheeks. Amanda gasped as shocks of pleasure/pain traveled through her body, and she felt a trickle of moisture slide down her inner thigh. She was so wet, so ready…

  “Your ass is as red as a cherry,” he growled, sliding his hand against her stinging flesh. “And just as ripe.” He slipped a finger inside her pussy, and she groaned, pressing her ass more firmly against him. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart.”

  “Yes.” She let out a shuddering moan as he rubbed his bare cock between her ass cheek
s, sliding the silken shaft against her wet folds. “Please.”

  “Please what? He pressed his palm down between her shoulder blades, forcing her to lie flat against the mattress so her ass would rise higher into the air. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Please,” she gasped. “Fuck me. Hard.”

  He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as the firelight danced across their bodies. “Your wish is my command.”

  END OF SAMPLE

  Callie jerked back, a gasp of her own escaping her lips. End of sample? So soon? There was no possible way. She had to read more! Checking her watch, she cursed at the realization that it was already ten minutes past lunchtime. That was cutting it pretty close if she hoped to get a full manuscript back in time before the day was over, but she pulled up the author’s email in her Outlook and hurriedly typed out an email to him anyway.

  Dear B. Strong,

  Thank you very much for your query letter. I read the partial you sent me and am very pleased with what I’ve found so far. I would like to request your full MS for review, with a one-month exclusive so that I can decide whether or not I am the best person to offer you representation. Please send it over at your earliest convenience.

  Best,

  Callie Richardson

  Literary Agent

  Bright Star Media Group

  She hit ‘send’, then let out a slow breath and leaned back in her chair. It was doubtful she would get the full manuscript by end of today; writers often hesitated when agents asked for an exclusive as it prohibited them from sending the manuscript to other agents until the agent either sent them a rejection letter or the time period had expired. B. Strong would likely want some time to think before he responded, and it was entirely possible another agent had already asked for an exclusive. But she wasn’t too worried about being beaten out by another agent; she was one of the best, and she would be very surprised if this author chose another agent over her.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d missed lunch, and she groaned, grabbing her purse as she hurried out of her office. She was going to have to run across the street for some Chinese takeout, she thought as she made a mad dash for the elevator, instead of going to Whole Foods like she usually did, or she was going to be late for her meeting with Random House. She had back-to-back meetings all afternoon so there was no way she was going to be able to squeeze in lunch later.

  Oh well, she thought as she hopped into the elevator. At least she’d be able to distract herself with work until she got an answer back on that manuscript.

  * * *

  “That sounds perfect,” Callie said, throwing a million-watt smile at the editor sitting across the table. She was sitting in the conference room along with Rachel Adams, one of her up-and-coming romance authors, and they’d just finished negotiating a million-dollar deal with St. Martin’s Press for her series of western romances which had done amazingly well with the small publisher they’d signed a contract with over a year ago. “Unless you have any objections, Rachel?”

  “Of course not!” The forty-year-old woman shook her head, her short blonde curls bouncing against her rounded cheeks. She pushed her silver-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, her grey eyes sparkling with excitement, and then gave an embarrassed cough at her outburst. “I believe everything is in order,” she finished conservatively.

  “Excellent.” The editor smiled, pushing the contract toward them. “Let’s sign.”

  They wrapped up the deal with a few signatures and handshakes, and soon Callie was exiting the conference room with a bounce in her step and a sparkle in her own eye. “You did great in there,” she told Rachel, squeezing the woman’s shoulder as she ushered her out of the room. “You’re going to be a very rich woman soon.”

  “Oh I know!” Rachel clapped her hands excitedly as Callie escorted her to the elevator. When they reached the elevator doors, she whirled around and threw her arms around Callie. “Thank you so much for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  Smiling, Callie returned the hug with a quick squeeze, then stepped back. “You’re very welcome. Now off with you! I’m sure your husband is waiting anxiously to take you out to that celebratory dinner.”

  As the elevator doors slid shut in front of a beaming Rachel, some of Callie’s enthusiasm faded. Sighing wistfully, she went back to her office to collect her own things, then left the office for the day. She had plenty of cause to celebrate herself; that million dollar deal meant a nice chunk of cash in her own wallet, and was the third one of that sum she’d made so far this year. But though she could call up any number of her girlfriends to go out and celebrate, not to mention Lucinda, it wasn’t really what she wanted. She wanted to run into a man’s waiting arms, to be lifted in the air and spun around and kissed senseless like the heroes did to their heroines in those old black-and-white movies her mother used to watch. She wanted to be whisked away to a fancy restaurant and a fancier boudoir, to be made passionate love to, to be told how proud she made someone, and how wonderful she was.

  In other words, she wanted to be loved.

  Shaking her head, she tucked her red scarf a little more snuggly beneath the collar of her winter coat, and ducked her head against the chilly January breeze as she made for the subway. After the last string of bad dates she had, she wasn’t anywhere near ready to jump back on the dating horse again. If it weren’t for the fact that she was a literary agent who was passionate about romance, she would have given up on finding love long ago, but she knew it was out there.

  After all, she’d once experienced it herself; so fierce and pure and bright, that she knew it had to be real. She had to find it again, someday. But just not today. Today she would go home, brew herself some ginger tea and biscuits, and snuggle up on her couch with a blanket and one of her favorite romances. The thought warmed her as she boarded the subway, and kept a small smile lingering on her lips during the ride home.

  Just as she emerged from the underground tunnels two blocks from her apartment, her phone chimed, alerting her to an important email. Looking down at the screen, her heart jumped as she looked at the name of the sender, B. Strong. The subject line read, Full MS, as requested.

  Dear Ms. Richardson,

  Thank you very much for responding so promptly to my query letter. I am delighted that you enjoyed the partial I sent you. I have done some extensive research and have concluded that you are the best literary agent to get this book published, so you may have an exclusive for as long as you need to make your decision, as I only have eyes for you. Please find the full manuscript attached. I sincerely hope it exceeds your expectations, and trust that at the very least you’ll find it stimulating.

  Sincerely yours,

  B. Strong.

  Stimulating? Well that was one way of putting it. Her panties were damp again just from reading this email, which sounded a hell of a lot more like a love letter than a manuscript submission. There was no doubt in her mind at this point that the writer was a man, which made the story all the more intriguing to her as she had so few submissions from male writers, and none that she’d ever entertained representing before. But this man’s writing was dark, passionate and utterly erotic, and some of that clearly bled into the email he’d written. Likely it was just a tactic to keep her hooked and get her to delve back into his MS… and damned if it wasn’t working.

  Clutching her phone in her hand, she hurried up the two blocks to her apartment. She knew what she was going to be reading tonight, and it sure as hell wasn’t the copy of Taken by the Sheikh that was sitting by her bedside table.

  Chapter Three

  “Lucinda, I could kiss you!” Callie exclaimed as she practically bounced into her office, where her assistant was already there setting down Callie’s customary mug of coffee and breakfast bag. “In fact, I think I will.” She swooped in and, catching Lucinda by the chin, planted a big one on each of her cheeks, leaving huge lipstick stains that stood out starkly again
st her porcelain white skin.

  “Wow.” Laughing, Lucinda reached for a napkin and wiped her cheeks clean. “I must have done something really special.” She peered into Callie’s face, then added, “I haven’t seen you this upbeat about anything in at least two months. What’s the occasion?”

  “That query letter you sent me.” Callie sat down at her desk and took a huge bite out of her Danish, skipping the breakfast sandwich all together. “I read the partial and was completely hooked, so I asked the author to send me the full MS. I read the whole thing last night and I freaking love it.”

  “You read the whole thing? In one night?” Lucinda’s mouth dropped, her eyes sparkling. “Wow. Must have been a real page-turner. I’ll have to read it myself!”

  “You’ll have to wait until it’s been released,” Callie teased with a wink.

  “Have you offered him representation yet?”

  “No.” Callie pulled up B. Strong’s contact details, then shot an email to Lucinda. “He’s local, so I’d like to meet with him personally. I already know he wants me as his agent so it’s a simple matter of signing him. Can you please give him a call and arrange for him to come down here for a meeting? I just sent you an email about it.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Humming a light tune, Callie started tackling her emails, replying to editors and authors, reading and responding to query letters, and noting down reminders of upcoming events that popped up into her inbox. She’d only been at it for a few minutes when her desk phone beeped.

  “Callie?” Lucinda’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I’ve got B. Strong on the other line. He says he has some meetings in Midtown, and was wondering if you’d be willing to meet at the Daniel for lunch instead.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped. “The Daniel?” It was only one of the most expensive French restaurants in New York City. One of her girlfriends, Missy, had been taken there by her husband, who was a hotshot Wall Street broker, a couple of years ago, and she’d said the meals there ran somewhere around $150 per person. She couldn’t imagine going to such a fancy, exclusive place just to get a contract signed.