Page 8 of Curves for the Crass (Rejected 8)

“You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone, baby. First, I’ve never had any other girl in any capacity. Hell, I’ve never even held a girl’s hand. Second, you are a thousand percent the only girl I see. The only girl I think about, obsess about, hell, the only girl I’ve ever fallen for,” I tell her truthfully, smiling when she sucks in a shocked breath.

“Fallen for? Me?” she asks, and this time its hope in her eyes and voice.

“I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the minute I saw you sassing those assholes from the swim team. I know for a fact I loved you when you handed me my balls.” I chuckle at that.

“I love you too, and you have nothing to worry about when it comes to my past. I’ve only had two boyfriends, and it never went past kissing. Couldn’t risk anyone seeing every roll I hide under these clothes,” she says, and while I’m happy she’s mine in all ways just as I am hers, ecstatic she told me she loved me, I can't help but be fucking livid at the way she talks about herself. Does she not know how absolutely gorgeous she is? How does she not realize her curves are like those back roads we like to ride together, curvy and luscious? Everything I could ever want in a woman. Everything I could ever wish for.

We finally make it to the nurse's office, and I pick the lock before walking in and setting her on the table. I talk as I grab the alcohol wipes, bandages, and ointment.

“Pixie, I’m gonna tell you this once and once only. Your body is beautiful, curvy, and captivating. Kids can be cruel. They say words that cut deep to cover the pain of their own insecurities. They taunt and tease because they come up lacking, not you. You are perfect the way you are, and you will see that one day. I will make you see that. Also, if I ever hear you talking about yourself like that again, I will whip your ass,” I tell her, turning back and cleaning up her knee.

“Thank you for saying that…” She pauses for only a second, “but Canaan?

“Yeah, baby?”

“try to order me around again? I’ll be taking and keeping your balls in my purse.” She smiles sweetly at me, and I chuckle.

Chapter Seven

Mercedes

“That’s my girl,” he says, smirking at me after I just threatened him. He really is the man of my dreams. He can take my attitude in stride, and he loves me for me. There’s no worry about not living up to other girls or past relationships, but I need him to clarify it. I need to know this isn't just a temporary thing. My feelings have gotten too deep for that.

“Am I?” I ask nervously but still raise my chin in the air. Showing confidence, I don’t really feel at the moment.

“Are you what?” he asks, still tending to my knee. He rubs the alcohol on it, bends, and slowly blows over the scrape. My nipples tighten at the attention, the care, and the feel of his warm breath.

“Am I really your girl?” I ask slightly above a whisper. His head shoots up so fast that I worry he will snap something.

“Of course, you’re my girl for now and forever. You’ve gone and made me fall in love with you, my beautiful pixie. You are smart, kind, sassy, and the fire in your eyes makes me want to kneel at your feet and worship the ground you walk on. You are my everything. I love you, Mercedes. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else in my entire life,” he says so fiercely I have no choice but to believe him.

“I love you too. So much! I swear, when you came into my life, it’s like I could feel you take the weight of the world off my shoulders and place it on you. You protect me from everything, and I couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. It would kill me,” I tell him just as fiercely.

He looks at me in awe for a second before slamming his mouth down on mine. I’m surprised by the action, but it only takes me a second to open for him. I devour him, giving him an inch and then taking one for myself. He bites my lip, and I moan, grabbing at his chest. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m going on instinct. I want his shirt off, but my hands are shaking so bad I can barely grab onto the hem. Canaan rips his mouth away from mine.

“We need to stop, baby, or I’ll take this too far,” he growls, backing away from me. The last thing I want to do is stop what we just started.

“Please, Canaan. I need you. Here. Now!” I whine. My pussy is squeezing so tight I might explode just thinking about that kiss.

“I don’t want to take you here, baby. It should be somewhere romantic. I should rent a hotel room for you. Have flower petals sprinkled around. Strawberries and whip cream I can run all over you,” he says, licking his lips as his eyes run down my entire body. Without him saying it, I know he is imagining licking that whipped cream off every inch of my body. That just breaks my resolve all the more.

“I don’t want to wait. I hate hotel rooms. They are gross and filled with germs from god knows how many people. Flowers are overrated, they die way too easily, and I have a black thumb. I’m allergic to strawberries, so the last thing you want to see is me breaking out in angry-looking hives. The whipped cream, though… you can save that idea for later. I want you, Canaan. Right here, right now,” I tell him, sliding off the nurse's table.

“Fuck,” he says, turning his back to me and rubbing the back of his neck. While he’s distracted, I take the opportunity to strip completely bare. I’m showing Canaan my vulnerable side. The side no one, and I do mean no one, has seen since I was a baby.

“Baby, I really want you… like, need you… but I don’t want you to think this is all…” Canaan trails off the minute he turns around and realizes I’m completely bare to him.

“Mother Fucker. Well, I guess there’s no backing out now,” he says, smirking before quickly undressing. I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head and shows me his beautiful six-pack abs. Holy hell, the V on this man. Until today, I would have sworn that was a myth. Even my dad’s military buddies can’t quite pull that off. Well, not the old ones I’ve seen, at least. Canaan reaches for his buckle. He kicks his socks and shoes off before ripping down his pants, so he’s only standing in his tight, black boxers.

“Keep going,” I tell him breathlessly, staring at the straining fabric between his legs. I want to see all of him unwrapped for me.

“Impatient little thing. Get on the bed, pixie,” he says, hooking his thumbs into his boxers and slowly sliding them down his legs.

Holy. Shit.

I stumble on my way to jumping up on the table when I get a good look at what he’s actually packing. Fucking hell, what was I thinking? That thing is going to split me in two.

“Bed. Now,” he orders. I’m just about to sass him, but I see the smirk on his lips. He wants me to sass him.

---