Not My Type (2 page)

Another woman in her position might
consider the disparity in their physical appearance and be consumed
with self-doubt. But the heat in his eyes and the way he held her
left no doubt how he felt for her. Elsa watched women watch him in
public and saw how their eyes narrowed when they finally noticed he
was with her, but Joe never noticed; he truly only had eyes for
her.

Those eyes were conveying an
altogether primal message that she had every intention of
answering. Leaving the salad to wilt on its own, Joe led Elsa to
the bedroom and stripped her apron off of her, peeling away layers
of clothing until she was completely naked and spread out on the
bed in front of him. A wicked smile crossed his lips, and his eyes
held a gleam of sexual prowess that let her know he was a predator
and she was his prey. He stripped his clothes off slowly, knowing
she loved his body, giving her a show. When he was finally naked,
his most prominent asset jutting out from the juncture of his
thighs with insistence, she pointed her forefinger at him and
beckoned him to her.

He fell atop her with what could have
been bruising force, but he caught himself at the last moment,
propped up on strong arms that held her caged in his embrace. He
began their slow dance of love, kissing her passionately and
trailing kisses down her ample flesh. He loved her breasts and
lavished attention on both of them until their peaks were swollen
and tender from him brushing them with the stubble on his cheeks
that never seemed to shave completely away. He knew how much that
turned her on and he loved playing her body like a fine instrument,
coaxing the sounds he in turn loved to hear from her
lips.

She lost herself in all the sensations
only Joe knew how to give her. He brought her quickly the first
time, using only his fingers, lips, and tongue. As she lay
shattered in a million pieces, he quietly spoke her name.
"Elsa."

She opened her eyes to look at him,
backlit by the midafternoon sunlight filtering into their bedroom
through the sheers on the windows. She always thought of him as a
Greek god, still did now as he hovered over the top of her, with a
halo of light shimmering all about him. "I love you," she
whispered.

"I love you, too."

He entered her as he spoke and she
arched upward to meet him. He buried his hands into the flesh at
her hips and pulled her close, driving himself inside. She gripped
his muscular ass cheeks and tried in vain to bring him closer,
striving to meld their flesh together. They danced their passion
against each other, words of love exchanged with breaths charged in
passion. Electricity crackled in the sheets and blankets around
them. Joe gripped the headboard and slammed himself into her,
harder and harder, until it almost hurt but felt so good, just how
he knew she liked it. She gripped him, fingers digging into his
flesh, and he growled in pain and pleasure. He moved his hands to
bury them in her hair, pummeling her over and over, until they
climaxed together, their voices strained with the force of their
heat.

Joe collapsed on top of her, careful
not to crush her or smother her with his massive chest. A slender
woman would have been crushed but Elsa welcomed the massive size of
him pressing her into the mattress, making her feel safe and whole
and loved. When he finally rolled off of her onto his side, she
turned at the same moment, knowing he liked to cuddle her, spooning
in the bed behind her and holding her close. She breathed the sigh
of a fully contented and satisfied woman, tilting her head back to
receive another lingering kiss that stoked her fires and left them
to burn like coals in a campfire.

They were silent, each wrapped in
their own thoughts, mostly of each other. Joe traced a finger up
and down Elsa's arm, watching with pleasure as she dimpled in
goosebumps at his touch. Elsa closed her eyes at the sensation. Joe
was overwhelming to her senses most of the time, even when they
weren't in bed after torrid lovemaking. At dinner parties, she
loved nothing more than to be near him, letting him talk and
enjoying his ease with his friends. The female companions of his
friends were aloof at first, but soon warmed toward her once they
saw how devoted she and Joe were to one another. One had said,
"I've never seen Joe this happy. He really, truly loves you, Elsa."
They were in the kitchen at the time, and the woman, Claire,
gripped Elsa's hands in hers. "Thank you. Joe is like a brother to
me and Jordan. We hoped he would find someone who wouldn't be
scared off by his intensity."

"Well, thanks. But Joe is the best
thing that ever happened to me. More than I feel I deserve,
sometimes," she'd replied.

"Well that's crap! You are a beautiful
woman, every bit as beautiful as Joe is handsome. You both deserve
to love and be loved. Don't ever sell yourself short, okay? You
bring as much to the table as he does."

Elsa was moved nearly to tears by her
speech. This woman didn't know the first thing about her but she
appreciated the sentiment. "Thank you, Claire."

The two had been friends ever since,
often going out for pedicures or to the movies. Claire was thin,
maybe somewhat plain but still pretty. Her boyfriend Jordan worked
with Joe at the gym; he was tall and had a wide set of shoulders on
him, a former high school football star who still kept in shape.
Claire and Jordan were like an advertisement for Midwestern
breeding, both blond and pleasing to the eye. Elsa sometimes felt
mismatched with Joe in comparison, he tall and her short, he fit
and her...not so much.

She knew what her strengths were. Her
hair was pretty good, long and tawny colored--neither strawberry
blond nor brown, but a bit of both--with just the right amount of
natural curl. Her eyes were her best feature, vivid blue; many
people commented on them, as if astonished that such eyes could be
carried around by such an unworthy creature. Elsa had spent a
lifetime being insecure about her weight. Joe's love did a lot to
dispel much of that self-loathing, but didn't banish it completely.
Still, she knew she could easily alienate and frustrate him if she
didn't curb it as much as possible so she did her best.

She was brought out of her reverie by
a more insistent ploy for her attention: Joe's skilled fingers on
the nipple of her right breast. With a grin, she rolled into him,
kissing him passionately to make up for her self-deprecating
thoughts, as though he'd read her mind. They made love again,
slowly this time, without the driving heat of before and as though
they were the only two people on the planet.

When she finally returned to her
senses, Elsa worried that Joe was late getting back to the gym.
He'd worked hard to build a clientele and a successful business.
"Don't you have clients today, babe?"

"I took the rest of the day off to be
with you. Babe."

"Did you now? How delightful! Tell
me...what should I do with this unexpected gift?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something.
Come here, you saucy baggage," he growled in mockery of the trashy
romance novels she so loved to read. Only, in her case, the guy on
the cover was already in her bed. In spite of thinking earlier that
her life was mostly perfect, she amended it; Elsa knew her life
could not possibly be any better.

Chapter Two: Not Just a
Date Night

Joe toweled himself off after a
particularly grueling workout the next day. His abs burned with the
abuse he'd spent the last ninety minutes putting them through. He'd
worked the late shift, coinciding his schedule with Elsa's work
schedule at the restaurant and it was nearly time for her to be
done. He wrapped the towel loosely around his hips and sat down on
the bench in the locker room, wincing. His ass still hurt a bit
where Elsa's nails had dug into his skin at the height of her
passion. His lioness, fierce and lusty, just the way he liked her.
He smiled to himself at the memory of it while mentally ordering
his manliest body part to behave. But Elsa had always affected him
like that. From the moment he met her, he was hooked.

Nothing in Joe's life had prepared him
for the sight of her on the beach that day. He'd dropped Spike's
leash in the sand and urged the little guy over to the bombshell
staring moodily at the waves. He was stricken dumb the moment she
saw the little dog capering about at her feet and her expression
transformed her face from just pretty to downright jaw dropping. He
could tell she wasn't used to male attention when he joined her and
the dog and the thought made his blood boil with the desire to
lavish her with it, to worship at her feet, to see her smile at him
as she'd smiled at the dog. Joe set out to make her his right then
and there, all gloomy thoughts of his cheating ex-girlfriend
Samantha banished from his mind.

They dated for six months before he
could talk her into moving in with him. She rented a tiny apartment
near the Sandpiper Restaurant where she landed a job as a
sous-chef, and not far actually from the beach where they'd met.
Now, of course, she was head chef at the same restaurant and made
all the decisions. Joe was very proud of her and knew from the
first day she had cooked for him that she was destined for culinary
greatness. He'd never forget that first meal: shrimp scampi,
fettuccini Alfredo, carrots roasted with tarragon, and actual
cannolis for dessert. Though Joe's career revolved around being fit
and healthy, he could pack away a lot of food and he outdid himself
that evening. Then and there, he resolved to work out an extra two
hours a week in exchange for God granting him the joy of having
this woman in his life, especially if she brought her whisk and
mixing bowls.

Joe was aware that his taste in curvy
girls went against what society would normally deem a suitable mate
for a guy like him. His attitude about that was "fuck society." He
liked big girls, big breasts, big asses and long, long hair. Elsa's
figure was a perfect hourglass, nipped in at the waist with wide
flaring hips and a pair of lovely breasts to match. He loved
nothing more than holding her in his arms, knowing she was his
anytime he wanted her. She could match him in bed better than any
woman had ever even tried to do. Lord help him, when he was feeling
kinky, she was all in...Joe again had to send a stern mental
reminder to his manhood stirring beneath his towel to stand
down.

Andrew Hall, another trainer at
ToneUp, the gym where Joe was a personal trainer and part owner,
emerged from the showers in the midst of a large cloud of steam.
Joe's partner, Jordan, had hired the guy and Joe had let him, happy
to leave the hiring of a new, and sorely needed, trainer to his
partner. The two men worked together most days, and were usually
friendly but today, Joe was withdrawn into himself, preoccupied. He
too had swaddled a white gym towel around his slim waist and took
up a seat on the same bench as Joe. Andrew struck up an unwanted
conversation with the big man who was silently applying deodorant
before donning a nice dress shirt.

"Got a hot date, Joe?"

"Taking my girl to dinner," was the
taciturn reply.

"Is that the hot little piece of ass I
saw you working with on the ab trainer today?" Andrew
leered.

"No. That was a client."

"So? You never sleep with them? Get
them all hot and sweaty and then...?"

"No," Joe growled, "I don't. I have a
woman."

"Oh, wait a minute! You mean that
fat-ass chick? The one with the brownish-red hair? I've seen you
with her over at that restaurant, the Sanddune or..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence
before two hundred and twenty pounds of pure Sicilian muscle was up
in his face, an angry scowl marring Joe's handsome features as he
menaced the shorter, less massive Andrew. "Don't fucking talk about
my girlfriend like that, asshole."

"Okay, sorry man, shit. I had no idea
you cared about her that much."

"Well, I do."

"Fuck man, okay! I said I'm sorry, now
back off!"

Joe stared at him a moment more and
then stalked back to his seat. Continuing to dress, he said, "Elsa
is not fat. She's perfect."

"Right. I'm sure she is. Hey, I bet
she does whatever you tell her to, right? A, um...girl like that
with a guy like you. Is that why you're with her?"

Joe stood again. He made a mental
note: this guy was so fired. Sleeping with clients? Strike one. Bad
mouthing Elsa? Strike two and three. He was lucky Joe didn't
flatten him as well as fire him, but he was in a hurry.

"Elsa does what she wants.
I don't tell her to do anything. I'm with her because I love her."
He turned to face Andrew. "And if she comes in here looking for me,
you will treat her with respect and courtesy."
For all of the five minutes remaining of your employment,
asshole,
he thought.

Andrew paled a little at the implied
threat and nodded his head in agreement. "Sure Joe, of course I
will."

Joe continued to give his locker black
looks while he donned his dress slacks, wingtip shoes, and black
jacket. His purple shirt was open at the throat, no tie to strangle
him, a sort of casual dressed up look for a special night. Lastly,
he removed the black velvet box from his jacket pocket and checked
the ring one more time. A perfect two carat Marquis cut diamond on
a simple white gold band lay nestled inside. Andrew glimpsed the
box as Joe closed it and secured it once more in his
pocket.