Craving Her Curves (8 page)

“Oh, flatten your dough,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. He smirked.

“Don’t tempt me with that tongue,” he said with a wink. Trouble and muscles, that’s what I was trapped in the kitchen with.

A few minutes later, once the dough for the crust had been flattened out, the pepperoni had been sliced, and we stood at the table now covered with toppings, we decided to take a wine break. The wine Joey had bought was a sweet white that I instantly liked.

“Good choice?” He asked. I smiled and nodded.

“Excellent choice. I really like fruity wines,” I said.

“Really? Every woman I meet likes dry wines, so they never like my choices,” he replied, grinning. I laughed.

“Not every woman,” I said.

“Nope, not anymore,” he said, bumping his hip against mine. I laughed and moved toward the table.

“Come on, I’m hungry. What’s next?” I asked. He laughed and set his glass down.

“Next, the sauce. A friend of mine suggested we put a little sugar in it, to take the bite down a bit,” he said, opening the container. He sprinkled the sauce lightly with the sugar, and then gently stirred it in.

“Mmm, sugar,” I said softly, picking up another spoon and sprinkling some on my tongue. He turned, his hands stopping mine.

“Wait. Don’t close your mouth,” he whispered. His face moved slowly closer, his eyes locked on my lips, on the sugar on my tongue. His tongue gently teased the sugar on my tongue before he pressed his lips against mine, mingling the taste of the sugar between us. The spoon fell to the table, forgotten as our fingers linked and we become tangled in each other. Then the oven chimed, letting us know that it was done preheating. Joey laughed against my lips, his arms still tightly wrapped around me.

“Wow,” I said softly.

“Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away,” he said, slowly letting me go. I swallowed the nothing in my mouth and nodded.

“Right. It’s okay. No worries,” I said. Because that was about all I could manage right then, as he’d kissed every ounce of sense out of my head.

“We should probably get back to dinner,” he said. I just nodded, not trusting my voice to work again for a bit. I wasn’t one hundred percent that my legs wouldn’t just dump me on the floor without warning. I wasn’t going to admit that out loud, though.

The music for the night was a wonderful jazz album, accompanied by a beautiful night sky and someone who made me laugh. Oh, and flour. By the time we slid the pizzas into the oven, we were almost covered in it, and we didn’t rectify the situation while they were cooking, choosing instead to wrestle on the couch the entire time.

“How did you get flour in your hair?” Joey asked, refilling both wine glasses before we moved to the table to eat.

“You’re kidding, right?  You threw flour at me!” I laughed. He gave a mock gasp.

“I did nothing of the sort,” he said. I laughed and eyed the flour handprints I’d left on his shirt. We needed to do laundry or something.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, Joey,” I said. He stopped and frowned slightly.

“What?” he asked with a confused look.

“Denial.... The Nile... River? Get it?” he snorted a laugh and sat down beside me.

“You know, you’re kind of a dork,” he said. I scoffed.

“You like this dork, so what does that make you?” I asked. He stopped, thinking as he took a bite of pizza.

“A dork lover. It’s a dark, unexplored fetish on the underside of sexual fantasies,” he said. I almost choked on my wine.

“Okay, you can’t be that funny while I’m drinking something. “ I said, laughing. He grinned and winked.

“Fine, I will attempt to be dull and boring, just for you,” he laughed.

Dinner was filled with smiles, laughter, and subtle brushes of skin. I ate my two pieces and watched in amazement as he ate the rest and sat back, looking not even half as full as I felt.

“Do you always eat that much?” I asked as we moved back into the living room and settled on the couch. He smiled and nodded.

“Remember the trainers and the diets that we all have? I do a lot of running and tackling, so I burn it all off at practices and games. I have to take in enough calories to cover what I work off. Otherwise, I’ll get sick,” he said.

“Oh. I guess I hadn’t thought about that. So, could you train me? Maybe to tone up a bit?” I asked. He gave me a look filled with disbelief.

“Why?  You are absolutely perfect,” he said. I laughed in response.

“Flattering, thank you, but I am not. There is jiggle in places that there shouldn’t be,” I said. He gave me a scandalous grin and leaned closer.

“A little jiggle isn’t always a bad thing, Charlotte,” his voice hitting that quiet, low tone that all men have when their mind has gone a bit farther south than it should in polite company. I cleared the embarrassed, flattered feeling out of my throat and smiled.

“Moving on,” I said softly. He snickered.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. I nodded and leaned in.

“Anything,” I said with a grin, happy that the conversation had moved on from my jiggle.

––––––––

“I
have a thing for curvy women. I always have, the curvier the better,” he said. I felt my eyes widen.

Really?” I said. He smiled and nodded.

“Why do you seem so shocked by that? I asked you out twice and you are not a twig, by any means,” he said. And there was a blush again. I cleared my throat. Again.

“I’ve found that a lot of the times, I am an exception to a man’s type rule. That there is something about my personality that makes men that wouldn’t normally give a woman like me a second glance approach me. I figured that’s what this was,” I said. Joey’s fingers traced small circles across my knuckles as he listened.

“Not at all. You are one hundred percent my type, Charlotte. I am in love with Charlotte Coyle; do you know who she is?” he asked. I nodded.

“She’s a model,” I said. Joey smiled.

“She’s considered a plus sized model,” He said.

“That she is,” I responded with a smile.

“Honestly, when I caught sight of you standing there with Amy, I did a double-take. You really look a lot like her,” he said, softly. I smiled.

“She’s beautiful,” I said. Joey looked up at me and smiled.

“So are you,” he said. I felt my face heat up and put me hands at my cheeks with a giggle.

“Stop making me blush,” I said softly. Joey leaned in close, until his lips were barely a breath from mine.

“I think it’s cute when you blush. It makes me want to make it worse,” he said, brushing his lips against mine as an involuntary shiver ran through me.

The weight of his torso pressed me back against the couch cushion as he kissed me, and my heart attempted to leap out of my chest. He kissed his way across my jaw line and down my neck before clothes began to be an issue, but there he stopped.

“I don’t want to move this too fast,” he said. I slipped my hands up the back of his shirt and let his skin warm me. He felt amazing. But, he was right.

“Right,” I said softly as he moved back and let me sit up.

“Maybe we should go back to talking,” he said with a nervous laugh that I joined him in.

“Can the talk involve more wine?” I asked. I was going to need something to calm my insides. He nodded and smiled, taking both glasses back into the kitchen for a refill.

That was where we stayed for the next two hours, talking about anything and everything, sobering up before I even attempted to drive home. It was... perfect.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to the car?” Joey asked as we stopped just in front of the building entrance. I smiled and shook my head.

“I can see where I parked from here, so I’ll be fine. Plus, it’s chilly and you didn’t put on a jacket. Go, I’ll let you know when I get home,” I said. Before he could argue the point, I kissed him. Softly, heated and lingering as his hands danced over my hips and mine caressed his back.

“Or you could stay,” he said as I ended the kiss. I laughed softly and smiled.

“Good night, Joey,” I whispered, giving him one last peck on the lips before I turned and started walking. I made it almost ten steps before my excitement got the best of me and I made the call.

“I knew you two would like each other. Didn’t I tell you?” Izzy said. I grinned and fished around in my purse for my keys as I walked.

“Yes, you did. You did a good thing, now please stop squealing,” I said, laughing. I could have sworn I heard her jumping up and down on the other end of the call.

“I can’t wait to see you two together,” she said. I laughed, noting vaguely as a shadow passed me in the reflection of the window.

“I’m about to drive home, I’ll...” There was a thump of sorts, and then a sudden and dull ache in the back of my head as the phone slipped from my grasp, forgotten. My legs gave way beneath me as the shadow stood over me, something that reflected the streetlight in its hand. Then, before I could even voice an objection, my consciousness left me.

I
felt jostled around a bit.  It took a moment for me to realize that I was lying gagged and bound across the backseat of an unfamiliar car. The jostling was the driving. Apparently the person in the driver’s seat wasn’t remotely interested in giving me a smooth ride. I waited through a few stops of the car, trying to see out of the windows as much as I could with my vision still swimming a bit. It looked like the stops were red lights at intersections, but I couldn’t find anything to clue me in as to where we were.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing pulse. It thundered through me so loudly that I was afraid that the man might hear it and know that I was awake before I was ready for that. I had to get someone’s attention. I had to tell someone what was happening to me and pray that they did something.

All I needed was one more stop.

The car slowed to a halt. That was my cue. I screamed around the gag stuffed in my mouth, kicking my feet against the window of the backdoor as hard as I could in the hopes that someone would hear or see and call the police.  But it didn’t last long. A gun barrel appeared inches from my face.

“Listen, little lady, I just got the car detailed. If you piss me off and I shoot you, your blood might stain the seats and all that cleaning will have been for nothing. But if you don’t shut up and behave, I will risk it. Calm down or I will put a bullet through you, so help me,” the man snarled.  I didn’t recognize his face or his voice, and his hand was trembling. The last thing I needed was a man with shaky hands pointing a gun at me.

“Why did you kidnap me?” I said, though around the gag it came out like a bunch of whiney grunts.

“Last warning, blondie. Shut it,” he said, hesitating a few moments for effect, then turning and beginning to drive again.

My heart thundered in my chest as tears began to run down my face. Where was he taking me? And why? I should have taken Joey’s offer to walk me to the car when I left.  I wondered if he’d seen what happened. I prayed that he’d seen. Or that Isobel had realized something was wrong. Anyone...

Help.

T
he world sped past as I lay there, terrified into silence by the driver of the car and his gun, which he didn’t look to have an issue using on me.  Tears ran down my face and onto the car seat below me as he hummed happily in the front, as if he didn’t have a woman tied up in his back seat.

When the car finally came to a stop, it was followed by the engine of the car being turned off; he got out quickly and I watched his shadowy figure in the inky darkness as he walked to the back door and pulled it open.

“I’d advise you not to try anything stupid, blondie,” the man hissed as he pressed the barrel of the gun against my cheek for effect. It wasn’t really necessary, as I was plenty scared already.

He hoisted me out of the car and tossed me over his shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes before giving the car door a shove closed and walking calmly to the front door of what I could now see was a home in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood, though I still had no idea where.

He stepped inside and turned on a few lights, with me still over his shoulder. The home was nice, well furnished, nothing that screamed “I’m a psycho” to me, but then again, what did I know? Maybe crazy kidnappers always looked normal. I watched the floor sway below me with the steps of his feet as he walked me through an entry hallway, what looked to be a small dining room, and then through a simple door that led to stairs going down. I started to panic, as the last thing I wanted was to be in a basement, but even the slight panic I had a chance for immediately resulted in a gun being pressed against me. I stopped.

A small, exposed bulb was turned on at the foot of the stairs before he put me down.  Threw me down, was more like it, dropping me so roughly that I lost my footing and landed squarely on my tail.  I was ready, convinced that I was going to die either way, and that this man was going to kill me. Might as well go out fighting, I thought to myself, my adrenaline pumping as I got ready to kick, bite, pull hair, and whatever I could manage before he pumped off a shot into my body.  He dragged me to my feet and ripped the gag from my mouth, before shoving me into a cold, dark corner of the basement. Another length of rope tied me securely to a protruding pipe and a third secured my feet together at the ankles. My breath was coming in short, terrified bursts as he... left me?  He simply turned away from me, as if to go back upstairs.

“Wait!  Wait, don’t leave me here!  Why did you take me?  What have I ever done to you?”  I screamed, frantic now. His return back to where I slumped in the corner was so quick that I pressed myself into the wall, sorry that I’d said anything.

“You aren’t good enough for my Joey.  I won’t let him ruin himself with the likes of you, so since you won’t stay away from him, I’ll take you away.  He’s mine,” he growled, his words and countenance so vicious that he spit as he talked. Then he turned on his heels, turned off the light, and left me there.  Alone and in the darkness that felt like it was creeping towards me.  Coming to kill me. I screamed, but no one answered. I was completely and totally alone.