Curvy for Him: The Librarian and the Cop

by Winters, Annabelle

  I take a breath as I watch her reach up above her head again. That gray skirt is riding up her solid thighs, and I almost groan out loud when I see her perfectly formed ass and legs flex and tighten as she goes up on her toes and tries to reach for the bulb. Finally I step up and reach above her head for her, twisting the bulb in case it was just loose. Nope. It’s dead.

  “There’s enough light,” I say softly, glancing at the frosted glass window above the locked door. Light from the rest of the basement is casting a dim glow over the laundry room. There’s also some sunlight somehow making its way in from the stairway and passage. “We’ll be fine, Bea. Those guys aren’t going to mess with us. It’ll be over in a few hours.”

  “In a few hours the sun will be gone and it’ll be dark,” Bea says. “And what if the lights in the basement go out?”

  I frown again as I look at the fear on her pretty face. “Wait,” I say slowly, rubbing my chin. “Are you . . . are you afraid of the dark?”

  She turns to me, her red lips pursed tight, her fists clenched like she’s about to lose her shit. “Yes!” she says, her voice peaked. “Yes, OK? Laugh all you want, but I can’t help it! I had a bad experience as a kid, and I . . . you know what, never mind. We need to get out of her, Brick! I can’t be in here! Break this door down! Do something!”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head and taking another step toward her. “I can’t risk a fight. There’s too many people in this house. No way I’m fighting my way out without someone getting hurt. And I can’t risk that. I won’t risk that. I may be dumb, but I’m not that dumb.”

  Bea blinks at my last sentence, calming down almost instantly as her focus turns to me. Her face softens as she looks up at me. “You’ve said that a couple of times—that you’re dumb. But you’re not. I saw how you dealt with those men up there, Brick. I saw how you controlled your emotions, didn’t just lose your shit and try to fight your way out, getting us all killed in the bargain. I saw how you stepped in and solved the problem in a way that gives us all a shot at just walking away without a scratch.” She shakes her head again, reaching up and touching my cheek in a way that makes me shudder. “You aren’t dumb, Brick. You’re just dyslexic.”

  I blink and cock my head. “I’m what?”

  “Dyslexic,” she says, her eyes wide as she shrugs. “Didn’t you know? Weren’t you diagnosed in school?”

  I snort. “School? Bea, I was home schooled by my mom.” I shake my head as I try not to think back to those years. “If you can call being yelled at by a drunk woman all day and then whipped by a raging alcoholic of a dad most of the night being schooled.” I grunt as I feel myself bury the memory again. I got good at that. We do what we need to do to survive. We become what we need to become.

  Bea inhales sharply, her palm stroking my face as I tense up at the memory and then slowly relax because of what I see in this woman’s eyes. Compassion. Understanding. And . . . and . . . and love?

  “My parents were drunks too,” she says softly, a shadow passing behind her big round eyes. “I used to beg them not to drink, and they’d lock me in the bathroom so I’d shut up about it.” She swallows hard, shooting a quick glance up at the dead lightbulb. “One night they locked me in there and passed out. There was a storm outside, and the power went out. The lights went out. I banged on the door to be let out, but nobody came. I thought my parents had left me. I thought maybe they’d died.” She closes her eyes and lowers her voice. “I wished they were dead.”

  “Me too,” I whisper, reaching for Bea’s face and cupping her soft cheeks in my big hands. We just look into one another’s eyes, and I blink as I see tears roll down her cheeks. What’s happening here? I’ve known this woman for a day, and already I feel like I’ve known her forever. Like I want her forever. Like she’s mine forever.

  She snorts and forces a smile, clearing her throat and burrowing her head into my broad chest. “Are we seriously bonding over wishing our parents were dead?” she says, trying to laugh away the depth of the moment.

  I stroke her hair, leaning down and kissing her gently on the head. I take a deep breath, her scent filling my lungs, overwhelming my senses, making me forget about our situation, about the danger that awaits us tomorrow. Bea is right. I’m not an idiot. I know what Marvin is probably thinking about right now. I saw the way his eyes glazed over when he saw my bank balance. He wasn’t expecting to score that kind of money. No fucking way. That kind of money is probably beyond his wildest dreams. It’s the kind of money that changes people. Turns good men into monsters. So what will it do to a bad man like Marvin? What’s it doing to him as he thinks about it all night, as the thought of him sharing it with Mug eats away at his insides?

  I push away the thought that in twenty-four hours I might be fighting for my life, smiling as I feel Bea burrow into my large body like a little girl. But she’s not a little girl. She’s a woman with real strength, real character, real courage.

  And real curves, I think as my hands slowly move down her back, tracing their way along her sides, stopping at her wide hips as I feel a rush of arousal that blasts me to a different level. Suddenly I want to take her, make her mine, my balls tensing up with an urgency that makes me wonder what just happened. I blink as those images of Bea pregnant with my babies flickers through like sunlight coming through the trees, and then I understand what’s happening. It’s instinct. Instinct that’s primal, ancient, ingrained deep in the psyche of the animals we are, the animal I am, the man I am.

  Then I understand that no matter what happens tomorrow, Bea is going to get out of here alive. I don’t give a shit if everyone else is dead at the end of it, so long as Bea is alive.

  Because she’s going to be carrying something for me at the end of the night.

  Carrying something for us.

  “Brick,” she whispers as my hands cup her ass from behind and squeeze hard. “Brick, what are you doing?”

  “You know what I’m doing,” I growl, sliding my hands under her skirt and grinding my cock between her wide hips. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused from the arousal that I can feel coursing through her curves, the need that I can sense in her being, the instinct of the woman in her rising up so strong I can fucking smell it. She doesn’t answer my question, and I clench my jaw and look down at her, giving her one more chance to tell me to stop, to stop before I can’t stop, before I won’t stop. Not until she’s mine, inside and outside. Now and forever. Mine in a way that nobody can challenge, nobody can take away, not now, not ever.

  She groans as I dig my fingers into her soft, beautiful ass from behind, yanking her panties up so they ride deep into her rear crack. I can already feel her wetness on her soft inner thighs between her legs. I can already smell her feminine musk calling to me like a drug. I want to drink from her. Eat her up. Swallow her whole. Fucking possess her.

  She looks up at me, her eyelids fluttering, her lips trembling like she’s trying to say something. But I shake my head and grin down at her.

  “Time’s up,” I whisper, leaning close to her lips, so close I can feel her breath on my face. “I’m not stopping, Bea. I’m going to make you mine. Right now. Right here. This might be all we have, Bea. This one night might be our always, might be our forever, might be everything, Bea.”

  Her eyelids flicker open, and she nods like she knows what I say is true, like she feels the urgency just like I do.

  “Then make it count,” she whispers, the words coming from so deep inside her I know we’re past the point of thinking. Now it’s just feeling. Just instinct. Just need. “Make it count.”

  I grin as if my woman has just issued me a challenge, and I feel the world contract around us, like nothing else is real except this one moment, this one moment that needs to capture forever. Make it count, I think as I grip her panties firmly from behind and slowly rip them down the seams as my cock throbs
against her mound. Make it count.

  And then I kiss her. I kiss her like it’s the last time I’ll ever kiss her. I kiss her. By God, I kiss her.

  9

  BEA

  I kiss him back with an urgency that seems to come from outside me, or perhaps from so deep inside that I can’t even understand it. I feel the urgency in Brick’s kiss too, in his touch, the way he’s clawing at my ass like a beast, rubbing his hard cock against my mound and making me so wet I want to wail out loud.

  “Shhh,” I moan as Brick pulls my ripped panties off me and growls as he unbuckles his heavy equipment belt and lets it drop to the hard floor. “They’ll hear us!”

  “Let them hear us,” he mutters, unzipping his pants as he leans in and kisses me hard on the mouth again. “This isn’t your library, Miss Bea. We’re gonna scream, shout, fucking roar.”

  “Um, I don’t roar,” I say with a giggle—a giggle that quickly turns to a gasp as Brick steps back and pulls his shirt off, rips off his bulletproof best, tears off his undershirt until he’s standing before me naked as the day, a wall of hard muscle, cock standing straight out, the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, bouncing gently, its shaft thick like a pillar, its tip dark red and glistening with his need. “Oh, my God,” I whisper. Now I want to roar! Roar like a lioness in heat, a she-beast about to be taken by her mate. “Oh, God, Brick!”

  He stands there before me in all his glory, and I know he’s mine. I can’t explain it, but there’s no doubt that this is my man, that I’m his woman, that no matter what happens, we’re together right now and we’ll be together forever. All those old books that talk about fate, destiny, meant-to-be? They were right. I see it right here before me.

  I feel my wetness drip down my naked thighs as Brick takes a step towards me. In the dim light he looks like some kind of dark god, I think, and my mouth just hangs open as I take in the sight of his massive pectorals, tight nipples perched on top of a chest that looks like slabs of granite, a stomach flat like a workman’s bench, rippled and contoured like a Renaissance artist’s study of the human body. His scent comes to me as he leans close and grasps me by the back of the neck, and I inhale deep so his aroma fills my lungs.

  He kisses me again, and I moan as I taste his clean mouth, feel his tongue push its way past my lips like he’s tasting me, savoring me, consuming me. He pulls at my hair from behind, and then he’s squeezing my boobs, pinching my nipples through my top until they harden to points, like they’re standing at attention, responding to his touch in the most exhilarating way.

  “This comes off,” he whispers, grabbing my arms and raising them above my head. “I need to see you, Bea. All of you.”

  I blink and look away. I’m so hot for him that a part of me wants to be free of these clothes so I can spread wide for my man. But I swallow hard as I wonder if he’s going to like what he sees. I’ve accepted my body for what it is, but it’s another matter to know if—

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” comes his voice, and when my eyelids flicker and my vision comes back into focus, I realize Brick has already slipped my top up over my head and tossed it onto the dryer in the corner. He’s staring down at my heavy boobs, cupping them in his big hands and massaging them hard, his thumbs grinding down on my nipples. “Beautiful and mine, Bea. Mine, you hear?”

  “OK,” I say, barely able to say more than that, my eyes rolling up in my head as another moan escapes from my lips. A moment later I’m gasping in shock as Brick rips my bra open down the middle so my boobs pop out like they’re being released from prison. “That bra doesn’t open from the front,” I mutter as I watch Brick lean in and take my left nipple into his mouth, his hands reaching down and moving up my skirt until he’s got one hand on my ass, the other fingering me between my legs.

  Brick just grunts as he sucks my nipples so hard I think he’s going to swallow me whole. I look down and blink in shock at the way my body is responding to him. My nipples look dark red in the dim light, big like saucers, nubs pert and stiff. My skin is glistening with his saliva, and although it should feel sick, I love it. I feel like he’s marking me, claiming me, owning me. I think back to how he just called me beautiful, and I suddenly feel beautiful, like I suddenly understand what it means to feel beautiful.

  I’m smiling wide as Brick pushes me against the wall and goes down on his knees, his tongue tracing its way down along my bare belly, circling my belly button, teasing the waistband of my skirt, which is raised up over my hips.

  “You smell so good,” Brick whispers as he kisses my mound gently, his tongue expertly sliding through my matted curls and finding my clit. “And you taste like—”

  But he doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s jammed his face between my legs, slamming me against the wall and driving his tongue deep into my cunt with a suddenness that makes me choke. I open my mouth to scream as I feel my orgasm rolling in like distant thunder, and although there’s a little voice inside that tells me I need to stay quiet, I know I’m not going to be able to hold back. Not with Brick doing what he’s doing. Wait, what is Brick doing?

  I frown as I realize he’s pulled his tongue out of me, and a wave of anger rushes through me as I feel my pussy yearn to be filled again. Brick’s still on his knees, but he’s leaning off to the side, reaching for something. Reaching for my torn panties.

  “Open up,” he says with a grin, his long arm reaching up with those panties.

  “What?” I mutter, my mind still swirling as I feel my climax hovering in the distance like it’s just waiting to come crashing in, destroying everything in its path like a tidal wave. “What are you—”

  And then Brick stuffs my panties into my mouth, and before I can protest he’s back down between my legs, fucking me with his tongue, furious and fierce, his hands pulling my asscheeks apart from behind, his fingers circling my rear hole.

  “Now you can scream, my little librarian,” he growls into my pussy just before sliding his stiff, thick tongue back inside and curling it against the front wall of my vagina, finding my g-spot and tapping it as my wetness pours all over his face like a river breaking through a dam. “Now you can scream.”

  As he speaks I feel my climax roar in, and I lean my head back and scream. The sound comes out muffled, and I almost gag on my own panties as I come all over Brick’s face. I feel my knees buckle as my orgasm hits me like a truck, but Brick’s holding me firmly by my hips as he drinks from me like some kind of wild animal. I’m taking heaving, desperate breaths, inhaling the scent of my own wetness from my soaked panties. It feels filthy and I come again, my body thrashing as Brick takes me to a place of ecstasy I didn’t know existed.

  “Brick, I . . . I can’t even . . .” I gurgle through my gag as my climax crests and breaks, shattering me as I put my hands on his massive shoulders to steady myself. “Oh, God, Brick, that feels like—”

  But I don’t finish the sentence, because Brick is on his feet again, kissing me hard on the lips as he reaches between us and lines his cock up with my slit. I feel his need, and I just blankly nod as he pushes himself into me in a smooth upward motion that stretches me so damned wide I just gurgle like I’m drowning.

  Brick pulls the panties out of my mouth, and I take deep, heaving breaths as he kisses my face, bites my neck, holds me against the wall and pushes so deep into me that I swear I feel him in my throat.

  He holds himself inside me, his cock somehow feeling like it’s getting bigger, its girth pushing against my inner walls, stretching the mouth of my vagina in a way I didn’t think was possible. He’s big, I realize through my delirium. And he’s not sure if I can take him. If I can handle everything he’s got to give.

  “Are you OK, Bea?” he whispers, his hard body shuddering as if he’s using all his willpower to hold back, to give me time to understand what’s coming, to give my body time. “Can I . . . I want to . . . oh, hell, Bea, I need to . . .”

  “Y
es,” I whisper, my mouth hanging open. I can barely even see. “Whatever you need, Brick. I’m yours, Brick. I’m yours.”

  10

  BRICK

  “I’m yours,” she whispers to me, and it’s the last thing I hear before everything goes silent, like someone’s just turned off the sound. But I don’t need sound. I don’t need sight. Not when it feels like this.

  My cock flexes inside her as I kiss her face and neck, and slowly I begin to pump my hips. She stiffens as I push deep into her, but I feel her nod against my chest and I know she can take me. She was built for me. She’s mine. Fucking mine!

  I feel her pussy tighten around my shaft as if she can hear my thoughts, as if she’s feeling the same urgency I am, a need to mate that’s so primal that it seems to come from a place that’s old, ancient, eternal. I look into her eyes as I pull back and thrust once more, and I nod as if I know what I’m feeling is true. It’s real. More real than life. More real than death.

  It’s love, I think as I pull her hair back from her forehead and look upon her pretty face. I can feel my hips thrusting harder, pumping faster, my balls slapping up against her as I prepare to fill her with my seed. But it also seems like time has slowed down, like we’re living a lifetime in this moment, experiencing eternity in each other’s eyes, loving each other with an intensity that not everyone is blessed with.

  “I love you,” I whisper, looking into her eyes as I feel her wetness flow down my shaft, feel the shudder of her thighs as I push against her, feel how her bosom is warm against my hard chest, her breath hot against my glistening neck. She was made for me, body and soul, and although I know it’s crazy, I say it again. “I love you, Bea. I . . . shit, I—”

  “I love you too, Brick,” she whispers back, looking up into my eyes as I hold her hair back from her face. “I don’t know how I know, but I know. I love you. Oh, God, I . . .”