Page 14 of Curvy Love

“Thank fuck. Can we go inside?”

“Yes.”

He’s out of the truck and over on my side before I even know what’s happening. Then he bends down, plants a shoulder in my belly and lifts me up like I weigh nothing. He carries me this way to his front door which just makes me laugh. He’s adorable and the more time I spend with him, the clearer it becomes that I could fall desperately in love with this man.

I can already tell he’ll be an amazing father and the fact that I’m even having those thoughts should be a big, giant red flag.

WARNING: HEART IN IMMEDIATE DANGER.

But I don’t care. Because even if all he can give me is tonight, I want it. I want a night of unbridled passion with him. Something I’ve only ever read about in romance novels.

He kicks his front door closed and keeps carrying me until we reach what I’m guessing is his bedroom. The light isn’t on, but I know for sure it’s a bedroom when he drops me on top of a soft bed. I bounce and then he turns on the lights.

His eyes rake over me, the lighter brown of his irises disappearing as his pupils swallow them up. “You’re so damn sexy, Laurel.”

What is it about this guy that makes me believe him?

I’ve never felt particularly sexy. Or particularly noticeable even. The middle sister, wedged between the flamboyant artist and the family beauty, I’ve lived most of my life quietly in the background. I’ve never minded that. I don’t need to shine brighter than my sisters to feel good about myself.

Despite that, I love that Alex makes me feel special. Makes me feel like he finds me irresistible.

He undoes his tie and tosses that and his jacket across the room. Somehow they land on a chair in the corner. It’s then that I realize how tidy his room is. Bed is made with military corners, of course. There’s no clutter anywhere, no piles of laundry.

Why am I looking at his room when he’s standing in front of me undressing?

I lean up on my elbows and watch as he strips off his button-down shirt revealing what is colloquially called a “wife beater” but on him it’s so sexy. His arms are nearly covered in colorful tattoos and I don’t know where to look first. Until that undershirt comes off and I catch sight of his torso.

Holy six-pack, Batman! He’s perfect. There’s a small smattering of dark hair across his pecs, then a thin line of it bisects his abdominal muscles and disappears into his trousers. It’s then that I notice the alarmingly large bulge behind his zipper.

“Oh,” I whisper, because yep, that’s what you say when you’re poised and sexy like me. Follow me on Pinterest for more tips.

“I like the way you’re looking at me,muñeca.”

I want to ask him what that means. He keeps calling me that, but I also kinda like how romantic it sounds without me knowing. He toes off his shoes and socks, then kneels on the floor and removes my shoes. I’m wearing stockings because May in Massachusetts is still chilly enough to not want to go bare-legged. His hands slide up the outsides of my thighs until he hits the tops of those stockings.

“Te ha amado desde siempre,” he murmurs.

Holy shit! Spanish during sexy times is so, so hot.

“Stand up.”

I do as he says and set my feet on the floor. Then he stands and comes around me to methodically unpin my dress. “I can’t believe that button popped off. Thank you for saving me.”

His mouth brushes the back of my neck and I instinctively arch back into him, my ass pressing to his hard dick. He is seriously well endowed. I wonder if he has lube. Should I ask? Nope, not gonna ask, that’s way too awkward.

The top of my dress slides off my body. He unzips the side and it slides all the way to the floor, leaving me in nothing but lacy white panties that barely cover my ass and a matching garter belt and stockings.

He swears. His hands reach up from behind me and cup both of my breasts and my nipples go painfully hard. Again I arch into him.

“Quisiera hacerte solamente mía y sentirme parte de ti.”His hot whisper scatters chills all over my body and I shudder.

He comes around to face me and just stands there, his eyes devouring me. My hands boldly go to his belt and unlatch it, then start work on his trousers, the button, then the zipper. He steps out of his pants and tosses them again on the chair behind him. Now he’s standing in front of me with only tight black boxer briefs on except they’re decorated with little animated tacos.

I bark out a laugh.

He looks down at himself, then gives me a crooked grin. “What? You don’t think my underwear are sexy? I wanted to be hot for you.” He gives me a little wiggle and I laugh again.

How is it possible for him to be this adorable and this sexy at the same time? I don’t get it.

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