Page 26 of Curvy Girl for Santa

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” His voice is like a big rumble of thunder, and it sends little shock waves rolling through me.

“Holly.” I don't even contemplate not answering him because I'm suddenly dying to know who he is too.

I don't even have to prompt him for his own name.

“Holly,” he tastes my name on his lips and nods his head in approval.

My blush deepens, pleasure unfurling deep in my belly at the look of approval on his face.

“I'm Rocky,” that deep voice rumbles again.

“Rocky,” I repeat his name like he did mine, and his eyes close for a moment as if he’s savoring the sound of it.

“Say it again,” he rumbles.

My cheeks flame even brighter, but I give him what he wants.

“Rocky.”

A shudder goes through his big frame. “I’ve never liked the sound of my name so much,” he growls before he pins me in his intense gaze again.

He takes a deep breath before he says, his eyes never leaving mine, “I'm not good with subterfuge, Holly. I'm not one of those guys who's going to dance around what he wants and ease into it. I see what I want, and I go after ut.”

My heart beats against my ribcage as the intensity in his eyes deepens.

“When I saw you across the room just now…” He shakes his big head before he continues. “I don't know what happened, but fuck, I want you.”

My breath catches.

He rushes on, “I know I'm coming on strong, and I don't want to freak you out, but I don't see any point in beating around the bush. I’m going to make you mine.”

The way he saysminecomes out as a growl, and my heart flutters at the possessive way he's looking at me—like I already belong to him.

This is crazy. I don't know anything about this guy, and I’ve never wanted to belong to someone before. A monologue like this coming from any other man would undoubtedly infuriate me. It would come off as cocky and arrogant, but it doesn’t come off that way with this man.

I get the sense that this isn’t just some line he uses, that he’s speaking from his soul.

And I'm loving the sound of him making mehis.

It calls to me on a primal level. Even though he's the biggest, scariest-looking man I've ever seen, I also somehow feel completely safe in his presence—like nothing could ever hurt me.

When I don't speak, he runs a hand through his hair, a look of regret and self-loathing on his face.

“Fuck, I've just scared the shit out of you.”

Frustration pours off him. He looks like he wishes he could beat himself up.

I instinctively want to soothe him. I lay a hand on his big arm, my fingers trembling atop his muscles.

He instantly stills, his eyes flicking up to mine and his chest heaving up and down at my touch. His nostrils flare, but I keep my hand on his arm. I feel like I’m calming a big beast. It both humbles me and empowers me at the same time. Seeing what I do to him almost makes me dizzy.

“You haven’t scared me.” I shake my head. “It’s just…no one has ever said these things to me before.”

He visibly relaxes before he covers my hand with his own. “Let me get to know you.” His voice is gruff, and it scrapes over me like sandpaper. “We can go as slow as you want. I just want to spend some time with you, get to know you.”

He fingers my hair again, a look of wonder in his eyes. “You're the most beautiful little thing I've ever seen,” he murmurs.

My heart races again. He's looking at me like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen. No one has ever looked at me this way before.

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