Page 7 of CurVy Baby

She begins to mutter, “Condescending prick,” and then I lift the silvery lid, and the scent of steak hits her, silencing her bratty mutters.

I smirk.

“It does smell good,” she admits, adding a punch to her tone to show me she’s not happy. “Don’t think I won’t bite that smirk again.” Attitude. Sass. Nevertheless, she begins to eat her filet mignon, and I clasp my fingers together and watch her.

“You look stunning, Baby Girl. I am a very lucky man.”

She can’t stifle the blush. Her body likes my praise.

“You look…” She pauses to scan my suit. “Powerful. And handsome,” she says, roaming my fifteen-thousand-dollar attire, from my crown to my tattooed fingers. She looks back at my face. “I don’t know what it is about tall, dark-haired men with blue eyes, but it’s a formula that never fails.”

“Neither does tanned skin, bleached blonde hair, dark eyelashes, big brown eyes, and obscene curves, Baby Girl.”

She swallows a piece of steak and sighs contently around it. Yep, women can be soothed by three things: praise, food, and orgasms. “Are you okay, Dexter?” she asks. “Do you have a plan now?”

I lean back and smooth down my tie. “Take my place in my family’s company.” I smirk at her. “Take my place in your life. In Tyler’s. Get him straight. Back in the orchestra.”

Vallie’s brows weave. “He said he has a record. No one would hire him.”

“I can be convincing.”

“He doesn’t want that, though. He is happy being his own musician. Writing his own pieces.”

“For whom to listen to?”

“Us. Molly. Me.”

“Tyler needs guidance.”

“Tyler is happy being a dad.”

I frown at her backchatting lips and lower my hand to my crotch, palming my erection. I had forgotten how protective she is of Tyler. How possessive she is. They are co-dependent.

"We'll see.”

“Ugh. You’re a patronising fuck.”

I smirk. “I know. And watch your pretty mouth.” Visible heat paints a trail from her breasts to her neck as I rub myself and groan. I plant my hands back on the table. “Tell me about your wedding?” I ask. They sent me photos of the small affair, both my brothers dressed in charcoal suits. I recognised Quinn and a few other faces, and an old lady I didn’t.

“I sent you the photos.” She smiles and looks at her wedding ring, rolling it with her thumb, the various cuts meeting the light, sparkling beautifully. “It was nice. Weird.” She giggles. “But, of course, it was. It was a weird situation.”

I deadpan. “Indeed.”

“Don’t be like that. We did it for you. So, we could adopt Molly. Marriage was the thing that cemented us as a stable couple with a secure home for her. That with the mother’s signature…” She shrugs. “The courts had no reason to deny us rights.”

I hum, my muscles uncomfortably affected by envy. I wanted that. Wanted Molly and Vallie. “For tonight,” —I roll my shoulders— “let’s just get you ready.”

She enjoys most of her meal and reluctantly drinks two glasses of water, bathes, and moisturises. Now, she is standing before me with a white towel around her body.

“Drop the towel, Baby Girl.” I loosen my tie and feel my eyes darken. “I have seen what is under it. Show me my obedient, pretty body for the night.”

She lifts her hand and opens her mouth, overcome by obvious nerves. “I’m not a prude. I have done things with your brothers I cannot spell, but you’re intimidating me right now, Dexter.”

Poor, sweet thing.

Smoothly, I move towards her, eyes like arrows that puncture through her flesh. The room is lit only by candles, and the dancing flames move in seductive waves across her lovely round figure.

“Dexter?” she murmurs, shuffling.

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