Hunting for Curves (BBW Erotic Romance)

HUNTING FOR CURVES

Quirky Nights Publishing

Copyright © 2013 Julianne Reyer. All Rights Reserved worldwide. May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission.

eISBN: 9781624930416

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are at least eighteen years old.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Author's Note

Bibliography

Jasmine Taylor stepped out of the taxi and glanced up as anxiety crept down the back of her neck. The giant hotel was modeled after a Roman temple, complete with vaulted arches and alabaster columns lining the front entrance. She'd never stayed in such a luxurious place, nor could she ever afford to. And that made it all the more painful for her to open the large glass doors.

Inside, her cheap dress shoes clipped over the stone floor, echoing into the vast open room. Fan-like palms, delicate ferns, and heart shaped elephant ear jutted out along the walls. Velvet drapes hung from the high ceilings and fancy rugs were placed strategically around the lobby. She would have loved to take it all in and spend a few minutes exploring; it was an interior designer's wet dream. But she had other business. Unpleasant, heart-wrenching business.

She thought she'd seen him come in here, but she had to be sure. The discarded business card she'd found in her apartment was too much of a coincidence to ignore.

Just off to the side, a gold-plated plaque pointed toward a hallway for check-in. She looked quickly over her shoulder before she took another step. The last thing she needed was to be spotted first. But to her relief, only strangers filed through the room. Taking a deep breath, she tried to walk casually.

With only her off-price department store clothing—a cream-colored blouse and the black pressed skirt she wore for work—she knew she would never blend in with the rich patrons of the hotel. At the very least she could try not to stand out.

But as she turned the corner, leading to the front counter, she spied Rodney. Her heart leapt into her throat and she stepped back, peering from behind the safety of one of the large, smooth columns.

He was handsome in his black suit with blue-gray tie. A light shadow framed his jaw as he flashed a suave smile at the clerk. And his short black hair was slicked to the side, which was not how he usually wore it. If it was any other time, she would have been thrilled to see him, glancing at him shyly as she blushed with arousal.

Instead, she stared in horror as he wrapped his arm around the slender waist of a dark-haired woman she did not know.

All the nerve she'd been able to muster plummeted into a bottomless pit. There was no way to go back now. She couldn't un-see this, nor pretend that the ugly reality wasn't staring her in the face.

It wasn't like they'd made any sort of commitment, she tried to tell herself. Not yet, at least. But they'd been headed in that direction. Hadn't they?

Jasmine fumbled with her cell phone in a last, desperate attempt to make sense of it all. She erased the text message three times before she finally sent it. Not an accusation. She could never bring herself to do that. No, it was an innocuous little text, sweetly asking him where he was. Then she quietly watched with her fingers clasped tight.

He laughed at something the woman said before casually lifting his phone. Typing with his thumb, a sly smirk splashed across his lips before he returned the phone to his pocket and leaned forward. Jasmine jerked with shock as the two of them kissed.

Waves of nausea washed over her. His reply flashed across the screen.
"I'm stuck at work for another hour but I'll come by after if you're still up."

Then the clerk handed him a card key and he led the woman to the elevator. Jasmine tried to look away. But it was like watching a horrible accident unfold. And her gaze remained fixed on the couple as the doors closed behind them. It was another minute before she closed her eyes and swallowed. A sob welled up in her throat but she shook her head, willing it away as she turned and strode to the exit.

This wasn't the first time he'd lied to her. But it was the first time she'd caught him in the act. There was no doubt he'd have some excuse or well thought out apology ready for her. He always did. And he was a master charmer, smoothly talking her out of her misgivings the last few times she'd confronted him. Each time she'd given in from mental exhaustion, allowing him yet another chance.

Not this time. But she needed time to think, time to put her mind in order. Time to brace herself for the inevitable conflict she so abhorred.

Maybe it came from being the butt-end of too many jokes growing up. Like being called "the fat girl" in school and never objecting, so it had become like a nickname. Or even the time her doctor said she was at a healthy weight, but then followed it up with a nonchalant, "It wouldn't hurt to lose a few pounds." He might have been right but it still stung to hear it out loud.

But no matter what people said, it had always been easier to keep quiet and nod. So she'd gotten used to doing just that. When she didn't have the means to escape.

As she opened the large, glass doors, the late afternoon sun glared off the sidewalk, momentarily blinding her with a spike of pain in her temples. A whine escaped her lips and her chin twitched as she shielded her eyes from the light. It took all her strength not to break down right in front of the crowd of hotel guests and taxi drivers. But she took a deep breath and counted softly until the wavering feeling subsided.

Blinking back tears, she turned her head from the concerned looks of a few passersby. That's when she noticed a formal sign off to the side of the entrance, decorated in black and gold, pointing to a nearly hidden set of stairs. It read, "Bar in basement."

She wasn't a heavy drinker. Hell, she hardly drank anything stronger than ginger ale. But the idea of losing herself a little was more than appealing at that moment.

With her emotions at the breaking point and her head reeling, she sighed and carefully descended down to the double doors. Just from the ambiance of the hotel, she guessed anything on the menu would be out of her budget, but as she entered the room, the dim lights gave her a feeling of comfort. Maybe they would mistake her for a hotel guest and let her just sit there while she gathered her thoughts.

The door slipped out of her fingers, slamming closed behind her. She winced but no one seemed to notice over the din of overlapping conversations. Even the bartender was preoccupied with his eyes locked on a gorgeous blonde in a black dress who appeared to be spilling her whole life story to him.

So she made her way through the crowd, searching for an empty seat. The only open table was at the back, in the corner where the light barely reached. But it didn't bother her. She was used to disappearing behind the glitz and glamour of successful people.

As she flipped open the menu, a quiet squeak escaped her lips. This wasn't just expensive—it was far beyond anything the average person could afford. Near the bottom of the drink list she found rum and coke was the cheapest, though still pricey. But on a day like this she could use a drink. It would be worth the small extravagance to nurse her hurt feelings.

Then a door clacked at the end of the room and she glanced up. Just under the spotlight-style lamps, stood a tall blond-haired man in a dark blue suit. His gold-colored tie contrasted with the deep blue in his eyes and his proud chiseled jaw was smooth as silk. Even in the press of bar patrons, he stood out. His posture was that of a lion surveying vast plains: proud and confident.

He glanced around the room, inspecting the crowd with a keen eye. Then his gaze locked on hers, and she froze. Like a rabbit in the grass, she was paralyzed: the menu clenched in her hands, her heartbeat racing in her ears.

The door opened and the man glanced back, freeing her to take a much needed breath. Another man stepped into the lamplight from behind him, sporting short auburn hair and a friendly smile. He wore a simple blue-striped dress shirt and khakis, but his clothes looked expensive and tailored, with the way they hugged his tight, muscled body. Then the two greeted each other with an affectionate hug.

Jasmine frowned as she returned her attention to the menu.
They're probably gay
, she thought as she brushed her long hair back from her shoulder.
Either way, they wouldn't be interested in a woman like me.

***

Luke Rosso let the heavy door go as he embraced his lover; it slammed like the pounding in his heart. They had never done anything like this before and he still couldn't believe Evan had agreed to the harebrained idea.

It was a typical argument back at home, just like the ones they seemed to be having more and more frequently. Evan was spending too much time with his work and Luke wanted him to know he was feeling restless in their relationship. But it was hard to read what his handsome blond partner was thinking, especially when he buried his face in his stupid computer.

Evan had offhandedly stressed that the business required his attention. Luke had interrupted him to say their love needed attention. With barely a glance up from his work, Evan had simply nodded.

Luke gritted his teeth in frustration. Then he just blurted it out.

"You're never around when I want you, and you don't want me sleeping with other men. Maybe I should just find a woman instead."

Evan's eyes flicked up. Then he slowly closed the lid of his laptop. The expression on his face was subtle; no one but Luke would have noticed the change. But he knew from the tight set of his well-defined jaw that his lover was surprised.

He leaned back in his chair. "Do you want a woman?"

"I want you but—" Luke held back his thorny retort. "I don't know." He crossed his arms. Why did Evan have to be so calm and collected? Luke had only been half-serious. It was more to get his attention so they could talk without the distraction of his work on the screen.

"Lucas," Evan cleared his throat. "Would it make you happy if we found a lady to share our bed?"

Luke gaped. He'd always identified himself as bisexual, though he'd been with Evan for longer than any of his previous partners. Much longer. And he was happy with him. That is, when they had time for a sex life.

But the "we" in Evan's response sent him reeling. He'd known from the moment he met the gorgeous blond man that he wasn't the type to pursue women. Far from it in fact. Evan had identified as gay for the majority of his life and there was no reason for Luke to doubt that.

"What do you mean by 'we'?" Luke placed his hands on his hips.

"I know I haven't had much time to spend with you. But I would be willing to try this so long as I'm involved."

Luke winced inwardly. That was the reason, stated without so many words. His one failing. The black mark on their relationship that neither of them would discuss.

It was a year ago, at another point when Evan had been staying at work for days at a time. Luke knew full well that it was no excuse for his own actions. And it didn't help that he'd done it with a man they both knew—one of their closest friends.

Ashamed, Luke had told Evan the next day. And he had forgiven him, almost too quickly. Yet the guilt weighed heavy on Luke's shoulders because, even if his lover didn't show it, he knew he'd hurt him deeply.

But now, Evan was taking his banter seriously, and accepting the idea—so long as it was on his terms.

Luke smiled. "Why don't we go down to the bar on 5th?" It was a dare, a chance to raise the stakes before Evan's attention wandered back to the computer. He wasn't going to let this fall by the wayside with an excuse of, "I'm too busy today, how about tomorrow?"

Evan crossed his arms before he took a breath. And when he spoke, there was a hint of cautious amusement in his voice.

"I much prefer the one on the south end."

Luke
tsked
and waved a finger. The game was on. "That place is full of pretentious old couples and gold diggers. The other one is more down to earth."

"Lucas," Evan stated as he leaned forward. "Do I have to remind you that you live in a glass house?"

There was that name again. Evan only called him that when he was asserting himself. It normally didn't bother Luke, but at the moment, Evan was being especially patronizing with his tone. While every relationship had its quirks, that one had taken Luke a long time to get used to.

"I told you from the start; I love you, not your money." Luke crossed his arms. "You know I pay my way and take care of my own bills. Even if your company went under and you lost all your finances, I would still stand at your side."

A subtle smile played on Evan's lips. "So you won't mind if I cancel the sailing trip then?"

"No, no." Luke quickly waved his hand. "I didn't say I wanted to give up the perks. Just—You know what I meant."