Curvy Diversion: A Curvy Girl Friends to Lovers Romance (Curvy Love Book 1)

by Aidy Award

  “I’m not exactly a shy flower if you hadn’t noticed.”

  He put his hand on my side, tracing the curve from my ribs down my waist and up over my hip and across my stomach. “I noticed.”

  Since submissives were his usual partners I’m sure I seemed a novelty to him. A large segment of dominant men couldn’t handle and weren’t attracted to strong women. I personally liked a sub with some bite. And I bet he would bite.

  But he wasn’t a sub and he wasn’t into BDSM. Grant had me mixed up. He was so far away from the comfort of my D/s relationship partners, but there was no denying this, us, felt damn good.

  The second I tried to bring him to the club and flipped my sexual domination switch we’d be butting heads. But, here, on this island far away from real life that inevitable clash mixed with some serious flirting became the best kind of sexual tension. It was uncomfortable and exciting at the same time in a whole new way to me.

  This conversation needed to move far away from BDSM and straight into vanilla. “Are you flirting with me Mr. Cochran?”

  “Indeed I am. But, the real question is whether it’s working.”

  The warmth between my legs and the flutters up and down my chest and stomach said yes it was.

  “See for yourself.” I pushed my hand over his and guided our hands to my pussy. My thighs were slick and we slid easily through my folds.

  Grant pulled the towels off me and stared down to where our hands met. “Touch yourself for me, let me see how you pleasure yourself.”

  That was a demand I could comply with easily. Grant’s gaze was glued between my legs and followed each movement of my fingers. The familiar power of control washed over me. No, not familiar, this was different.

  I still had the power, but not that of a Domme over her sub and not because it was negotiated that way, but because it was natural. I had something he wanted, and I wanted him to have it.

  I watched his eyes until his hand reached down and he began stroking his cock. He was hot and hard and I’d done that to him. There was no pleasure like the one of knowing I took a man to the edge of self-control. This time I’d done it without demands or a carefully crafted scene, but from a genuine lust…or something more.

  The pace of my breaths picked up with each pass over my clit. It felt so good, but seeing Grant take himself in hand, knowing the pleasure was multiplied by watching each other, the sensations in my body skyrocketed. I was close to coming, and I wanted Grant inside of me when I did.

  I closed my eyes for a tiny second, feeling the pleasure building inside of me. A second turned into a minute, and a minute turned into Grant over me, in me, joining his fingers with mine.

  “Mmm. You’ve made yourself so nice and wet for me.”

  I wanted to protest that I wasn’t doing any of this for him. My mouth wouldn’t let the lie escape. Instead my words were replaced with a moan when he pushed my fingers away and pressed his inside of me.

  In my mind I imagined how we looked. My hair splayed across the wooden floor, his body over mine, the muscles in his arms working as he pushed his fingers in and out of me. We were the perfect picture of sensual sexuality.

  The centerfold of one of Granted Media’s dirty magazines.

  Grant’s fingers worked magic between my legs and the small flutters that signaled a huge impending orgasm rippled through my inner muscles. I pushed my hands into his hair to hold him tight and rocked my hips to increase the pressure.

  He left me bereft, pulling away and crawling up over me. “Don’t come yet. I want to be inside of you when you do.”

  He snagged the box of condoms again and swiftly put one on.

  Shivers tremored over my whole body at his demand. Nobody had ever told me when to orgasm.

  I was too caught up in loving his hard body pressing over my soft one to care about anything but joining our bodies together. He caught my mouth with his and pushed his cock into me, stretching and filling.

  So good and so wrong all at the same time. This wasn’t the way I had sex. Or it hadn’t been until today.

  It was fucking missionary for goodness sake. But, I was overwhelmed by the pure intimacy of the way our bodies worked together. His cock pumping inside of me, my hips lifting to meet his, our eyes focused only on each other. I had this intense awareness that more than our bodies were intertwined. An orgasm deeper and more passionate than I’d ever had before.

  I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms over his back, pulling his body tighter to mine, crying out until I couldn’t see or breathe. Grant buried his face into the crook of my neck and pumped into me fast and hard moaning gutturally.

  His orgasm pushed me even higher taking one orgasm and making it infinite. My whole body shuddered, my muscles locking around his so hard I lost any sense of time. My body squeezed and pulsated around his and I clawed at his back pulling every bit of pleasure from our joining that I could.

  My body, brain, and soul had gone to a place I’d never even touched before. Someplace I wasn’t sure I even believed really existed.

  I wouldn’t name it. I wouldn’t give it power. Because what if it wasn’t real, and even worse what if it was? What if I couldn’t, or what if Grant didn’t? The risk was too big, the consequences too scary.

  Grant’s rough breathing blew over my skin until my lungs got the message and joined him in a harsh pull of air.

  I sucked in a breath like I was breathing in and out of a paper bag. For a moment, with him over me, my breath stuttering, I didn’t know if I was in the midst of a soul-shattering orgasm or a sudden severe panic attack.

  One half of my body and brain screamed warning warning, danger danger, and the other half said fuck you to the alarms and floated in a cuddly haze of the satisfaction of a spent man and afterglow.

  If we were in the club, his body hulking over mine, no one would ever even guess I was a Domme. I sure didn’t feel like one curled under a man like this. Where were my comfortable BDSM roles when I needed them?

  I didn’t know how to do…this. My chest tightened like Grant had his whole weight on me. The blaring sirens in my head were winning the battle raging in my head and body and if I didn’t get away in the next ten seconds I’d be in a full-blown panic attack. That was sure to impress.

  I saw the whole conversation in my head of Grant talking to his friends. “Yeah, I nailed this model in a hurricane and then she had a panic attack and drowned.”

  His friends would reply with their condolences and then they’d all commiserate about their crazy one-night stand stories while drinking thirty-year-old scotch.

  My funeral would be a bizarre combination of mourners dressed in either high fashion or kinky fetish clothing. The headstone would read Danica Chamonix, Model, Lover, Friend, Catastrophizer.

  At least I knew I was being ridiculous. Didn’t mean I could help it.

  Sound the Alarm

  Somewhere deep inside my head a tiny voice asked why this was such a big deal. So I’d had vanilla sex and it actually meant something, there were real feelings and that made it way more important than any other sexual encounter I’d had in my entire life.

  So what?

  No one but me, Grant, and the island knew. This island definitely didn’t count as the real world. Fine. What happens on the island, stays on the island. It wasn’t like I spent a lot of time hanging out with business men and their trophy wives at home. This was a blip on my normally controlled world. A fling.

  I could do that for one day. As long as Grant understood that’s all this was and could be. He didn’t belong in my everyday world and I’d actually read the tabloids we’d mentioned earlier. He really did only date skinny minis, or at least that’s what he let the world think about him. I’m sure it was important to his image now for the company’s image. Which meant, I didn’t belong in his normal life either.

  Fine. All for the best. No panic attack needed here.

  I did my best to stay calm and enjoy the warmth of Grant’s body on mine.
/>   He laughed, his chest bouncing against mine. There goes my attempt at relaxing.

  I shoved at his arm. Time he got off of me. “What are you laughing at?”

  He raised himself into a push-up above me. “I know I said this before, but that,” he waved a hand over me, “was the best damn sex I’ve ever had. Christ, Dani, why did we wait so long to do this?”

  “Because we were friends.” Who the hell knew what we were now. Fuck buddies? That deserved an eye roll if anything did.

  He kissed my forehead and rolled over to his side taking me with him. “We still are.”

  I shifted so my head lay on his chest and we were both staring up at the ceiling. I refused to deal with the balled knot in my stomach that was wrapped up in those chains. The best way to avoid the subject was to change it. Besides the fact I was feeling weak and useless at the moment. “Friends help friends out, right?”

  Time I turned the table back to me doing something for Grant. Take the focus far far far far far away from all the feels.

  “Yeah, of course.” He rubbed my head and played with my hair.

  “What if I asked you to do a favor for me?”

  “Sexual favors?” he teased.

  “Don’t be such a hornball.” I used my stern Domme voice, but it didn’t have the same ring anymore.

  He lightly pinched my ass. “I can’t help it when you’re around.”

  That was the afterglow and newly rising lust talking, I’m sure. “I’m being serious.”

  “You know I’ll do anything for you, and not just because you’re sleeping with me.” His voice leaked his damn good mood.

  “Good, because my career could use a boost right now, and you’re exactly the man to help.”

  “So you aren’t just using me for my body?” He laughed. “I already did my best to get you on the cover of Sports. But there were extenuating circumstances.”

  “What about what you just took?” I pointed to the camera laying on the floor next to us.

  “Nope. That’s my personal camera and those pictures are only for me.” Grant sat us both up, snagged the camera, dusted off the lens and stowed it back in the bag with his phone.

  He sounded pretty adamant about that. Ever the stubborn one. But, I loved the idea that he wanted to make Granted more diverse. I had a solution. Slightly manipulative, but if it would take that horrible frown off his face, so be it. One damsel in distress coming up.

  “Even if I agree, you know I can’t pay you.”

  Yes, I had him. “Even the chance to be on the cover of Sports would get my name in front of people who have never considered me before.”

  Grant clicked the clasp together securing his precious pictures. “I see what you’re doing there.”

  Innocent face. “What?”

  “Sneaky girl. A favor, huh?” He stood and put the camera farther away, next to the door.

  His fully naked body distracted me for a breath. I shook my head and quit being a sex-crazed ninny. “Yeah. I’m not booking as many jobs as I used to. I’m not twenty-one anymore. There are plenty of younger, fresher faces and bodies competing for the few and far between plus-size jobs.”

  He stretched, reaching up to a supporting timber across the top of the hut. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re in demand. I know you are.”

  I licked my lips thinking of all the fun things we could be doing if only I had a little rope. But, we didn’t, he wouldn’t be into it anyway, and I was getting off topic again. “Not for Granted Media.”

  “Thus this whole project. But, if you’re really worried about your career, I could give you a job.” He rocked back and forth on his heels.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. I apparently laid the damsel bit on too strong. “Thanks, Mister knight in shining armor, but I’m good.”

  “No, really. You’d be a great art director. Lots of models move into magazines when they—”

  I looked around the place searching for my clothes. “Oh, don’t stop now. You’re on a roll. Go ahead, say it.”

  Grant stared at me and quirked that damn eyebrow that said I was over reacting. My ass. “Say it. Say I’m too old to model.”

  “Dani, love. I’m just trying to help.”

  “Quit calling me that, and I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself fine, thanks.”

  “Okay.” He held up his hands in surrender, but with a thinking something naughty grin on his face. “I know you can, you always have from the first day I saw you and started crushing on you hard-core.”

  Sputter, crackle, fizz. That was the sound of my brain turning into a soggy bowl of Brain Crispies. Vital organ cereal can’t think about the past, it’s implications for now or the future. “Uh…what?”

  Grant sat next to me and bumped me with his shoulder. “Give me a break. You had to know. I broke up with my girlfriend for godsakes.”

  No. Nuh-uh. Nope. “But, not until I had a boyfriend.”

  “Who I plotted to kill in many creative and torturous ways.”

  Still not buying it. Why would he say things like this to me? “And, and, then you dated slashed banged half the Tri-Pi house.”

  He shrugged. “Getting experience?”

  “Liar.” I may or may not have yelled that. It was really loud inside my head.

  “I wasn’t sure you were ever going to break up with that fucktard and college is a terrible time to develop a lifelong case of blue balls.” He sighed. “What do you want me to say? I was pining for you for ten years in celibacy? It took an act of nature to give me a chance to get you alone, naked, and all to myself long enough to make my case.”

  “We were just friends, dammit. We’re friends.” Gah. The snaps and crackles and popping fizzes in my head were going to explode.

  “I know.” He grinned and made a move to put his arms around me.

  I blocked him and rolled away and out of the cocoon of towels and warmth. The cool air hit my skin intensifying my freak out level from what the fuck to what in the fucking fuckity fuck fuck.

  “But.” But what? But, I can’t get involved with you because I’m secretly a Dominatrix? But, you’re too important to me to lose in the name of love? But, I’m scared to death I’m not actually good enough for you and once we get past the fucking around stage you’ll dump me like every other man in my entire life no matter how hard I try to control the situation?

  Yeah. That last one.

  “But, nothing. I got you out here as a favor, but I planned the whole thing so we could actually get to spend some time together away from the rest of the damn world. This was the perfect opportunity.”

  I searched the room for my clothes. My bra hung on a board and my pants were over there too. My shirt was nowhere. This place was only about ten by ten. Where in the world could one piece of clothing go? I’d have to wear the ugly t-shirt.

  “This is not a good idea.” I grabbed the clothes I could see, deciding to ignore the bra and pulled the shirt over my head. The sooner I was covered the better.

  “It’s a great idea. We just proved that. Twice. Three times for you.” Grant stood and tried to block my way.

  He was everywhere, filling up the room, stealing all my space. Dammit. The mush in my brain finally showed up to the game, shooting my heart rate up and sending a hot flush across my face and chest.

  “It’s not about the sex. That was…” Different. “Much more than I expected. But, sex doesn’t make a relationship.”

  I ought to know.

  Strong hands landed on my shoulders, hauling me into a warm shelter of strength and love. “No, but we already have a relationship, love. I know you. I know that you like sunny weather, but only if there’s shade, that you think kale is stupid, that you really became a model to stick it to the man more than because you wanted that life, and I know that you haven’t had a steady man in your life other than me for the last ten years.”

  Too hot. Too much. I pushed at his chest but didn’t budge him. “Fuck. You. You don’t know anything about me.�
��

  “Hell, Danica. I’m trying to tell you I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.”

  The words wrapped around me, into me, like a snake, constricting, squeezing every fear out of my pores. I wanted to scream that he was being ridiculous, that he was ruining everything.

  I couldn’t do this. I needed to get out of there. Now.

  I shoved him back and yanked the door open half expecting Hurricane Cameron to slap me in the face. Somebody needed to.

  The wind had died down, but a slow trickle of rain continued. Fine. I had no problem getting wet as long as I could get away from here.

  My shoes were on the other side of the room and Grant was moving toward me. If I didn’t run now I would get trapped. No way I could make it all the way down the hill without shoes. Grants lay by the door. I shoved my feet into them. They were too big, but not so much so that they fell off. I’d stuff the toes with leaves just as soon as I was out of sight.

  “Dani. Wait. What are you doing? Where are you going?” Every word was laced with surprise and a tinge of anger.

  “This,” I waved my hand between the two of us, “never happened.”

  His eyes widened. “It did. You can’t pretend this wasn’t something important. Besides, I have photographic evidence.” He pointed to the camera bag next to the door.

  The camera. The damn photos.

  I grabbed the camera bag and scurried down the ladder before Grant could say anything else.

  I’d return it to him later. By mail. After I deleted all the pictures of me, or the two of us.

  Forever.

  Fight or Flight? I Pick Flight

  I stumbled over branches and rocks and other debris left by the worst of the storm. The sky was the same gray color as it had been for the last day and a half. I couldn’t even tell whether it was morning or night. I didn’t care. I had to get away. My fight or flight response was in full-blown run-away run-away mode.

  “Danica, stop. God dammit.” There were a whole lot more swearing dropping down from the trees along with some banging and scraping.