Not the Hot Chick: A BBW New Adult Serial Romance (Not the Hot Chick series Book 1) (4 page)

Finally the waves receded, leaving delightful little ripples behind. Cam gave her an arrogant
I'm the man
grin. She couldn't blame him. After the way he'd made her come, he
was
the man.

"You like that?" he asked, his chest expanding with masculine pride.

Like
was an understatement, but he knew that. "Yeah." Then, just to keep him from getting too full of himself, she added "It was all right."

She laughed when he twisted his mouth in an exaggerated scowl, playing at being insulted. "All right? Woman, I rocked your world."

He swooped down for a kiss, mashing their mouths together, crushing her breasts against his bare chest. "Admit it," he muttered against her teeth.

Layla laughed and squirmed while they tussled, making a mess of the bedclothes. "It was okay."

"No. Say it. Come on. The earth moved. A ten on the Richter scale."

"Ehh…" She waved her hand side to side in a
so-so
motion.

"Say it…" He kissed her so possessively she lost her breath.

"Yes." She sighed when he finally broke away. "Yes, all right. You rocked my world."

"Hah. Knew it." He grinned down at her, straddling her hips. "Well, we're just getting started, baby."

A shock of excitement jolted her as he slid off the bed to stand and unzip his pants. He stopped as she stared at him, gape-mouthed. Part of her still couldn't believe this was really happening.

"What's up?" he asked. "Don't want to get naked?" He shrugged. "That works, too. Pretty hot, in fact."

It was hot, picturing them going at it half-dressed with panties and underwear pulled down just far enough to get the job done. The mental image had her momentarily transfixed. But when Cam was about to climb back onto the bed, she stopped him.

"No." No way was she going to miss the chance to see him naked. Her mouth watered at the very thought. "Take off those pants."

Again he gave her that sexy half smile. Oh, he was a devil. And she was the luckiest girl on the planet.

Cam shucked off his pants, removing something from the pocket while Layla unhooked her bra and flung it away. Where it landed, she didn't know, didn't care. Then came the skirt. She tugged it down her legs and kicked it off. Then she stopped as she caught a glimpse of Cam standing there in his dark gray boxer briefs, stroking the huge bulge distending the front.

Holy shit.

"See anything you like?" His voice was whiskey smooth.

"Come over here." She hardly recognized her own voice, so deep and smoky.

He took one step, two, then stopped to stand at the side of the bed. Teasing her.

Layla crawled to the edge of the mattress and looked up at him. He gazed at her, simply waiting for what she might do next.

What she did was go for it. Hooking her fingers in his waistband, she pulled the briefs over and down, freeing his raging cock in all its glory. It felt hard in her grasp, hot on her skin when she brushed her cheek against it.

She lightly kissed the tip, moist with precum. She glanced up hesitantly, not quite ready to do more, wondering if he expected it.

His face was flushed, his pupils large and black. "Lie back," he rasped.

She scooted back on the bed. Cam placed a couple of packets on the nightstand, then just stood, staring down at her. He set his knee on the mattress and slid in beside Layla. He hooked his finger in the elastic of her panties. "I think we can dispense with these."

He pulled the scrap of fabric down her hips, and she wriggled out of it the rest of the way. Her heart thudded as Cam kissed her. She rolled to her back, tried pulling him on top of her. He didn't budge.

She blinked. They were both naked, ready for each other. What was he waiting for?

He grasped her by the waist and suddenly she found herself on top of him, her legs on either side of his hips, looking down at his naughty grin. "Let's do it this way."

Oh. She wasn't sure about this. On top like this, he could see all her body's flaws—the roll at her middle, her less than perfectly perky breasts—

"Layla." His grin had vanished. His expression was serious. "Stop thinking." He rocked his hips upward, the base of his cock nudging against her clit. "Just
feel
."

He nudged her again.
Oh
. She felt that.

Cam was right. He was here with her because he wanted to be. She'd only spoil the moment if she let her insecurities get the best of her.

She smiled down at him and grasped his cock, loving the feel of velvety skin over hard steel. "No more thinking."

He hissed as she jacked him slowly. "All right. Grab a rubber, baby."

She took one of the packets he'd placed on the nightstand and tore it open. Together they rolled the latex down his shaft.

Holding her by the hips, he lifted her as she guided his cock toward her entrance. "Put me inside."

She did, easing him in slowly, assisted by the lubricant on the condom and her own slickness. She took her time. He was big, and it had been a while…

"That's right," Cam murmured. "Keep going, baby. Feels so good."

No lie. It felt so, so good. The stretch, the fullness as she sank onto him bit by bit. She sighed when he was all the way in, moved experimentally. Cam sucked in a breath and spoke through his teeth. "Go for it. Ride me."

Layla moved awkwardly at first, using her thigh muscles to raise and then lower herself on him. It didn't take long for her to get into a rhythm. Cam helped out, thrusting up to plunge into her each time she stroked down, giving a little bump to her clit. Each time her clit buffed the coarse hair near the base of his cock, white sparks crackled through her. Their gasps and sighs, the slap of their bodies against each other, and Cam's guttural encouragement all heightened Layla's simmering excitement.

She gripped Cam's shoulders to keep her balance, loving his strength. His hands moved from her waist to her ass and up her back, sliding over her sweat-slicked skin as though he couldn't get enough of her. "Yeah, come on, baby. Like that. Just like that," he growled as she quickened her pace.

Her breasts swung free near his face. When Cam took a straining nipple between his lips and sucked hard, that was all it took to nudge Layla over the cliff and into climax. The whole world turned black as the pulsations rippled out from her core to her fingers and toes. Watching her come set something off in Cam, too. He arched his neck, drew his lips back from his teeth, and hammered into her until he stiffened and groaned.

She floated as softly as a cloud down from her peak, with him still holding her. When she opened her eyes to gaze down at him, his mouth was curved into a small, mischievous smile. She smiled back and climbed off him, rolling to her side. Cam turned toward her, tossing his arm around her waist.

"That was great."

"Yeah." She sighed, feeling sleepy and thoroughly relaxed. "Thank you."

"Thank
you
." He snugged up against her, his front to her back, and nuzzled the crook of her neck. Layla squirmed and stifled a giggle.

She drowsed just a bit, luxuriating in the aftermath of her mind-blowing orgasm. This part, too, just cuddling with him, was awesome.

He had real game in the bedroom. And he was such a nice guy. She still had a hard time believing he'd been with her after he had an offer from Jessi…

His whisper tickled the back of her neck. "Where's the bathroom?"

"End of the hall."

The mattress shifted as he climbed out of bed. She heard his bare feet pad out of the room. Layla let her mind wander, visualizing him slipping back into bed beside her, the two of them snuggling. Sleeping a little, then getting busy a second and maybe a third time. Waking up together for some morning sex before going out to breakfast, spending the day together…

She almost fell asleep to those lovely imaginings, but the soft rustle of clothing brought her out of her reverie. She rolled to her back and found him standing, zipping up his jeans, looking down at her with a warm grin. "You were amazing, little Layla."

Her fantasies, as insubstantial as a bubble, went
poof
.

"Oh." Suddenly embarrassed by her nakedness, she reached for the quilt now bunched at the foot of the bed and yanked it up to cover herself. "Thanks." She held the coverlet to her breasts. This was a hookup. How dumb to imagine it could be anything else. "Uh, you too."

"Thanks." He grabbed his socks from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed to pull them on. He whistled a fragment of some song it took Layla, in her daze, a moment to recognize. Then it clicked: "As Time Goes By," from
Casablanca
.

Cam stood, picked up his shirt. As he put it on and fastened the buttons, he seemed to awaken to Layla's somber gaze, and his jaunty, careless attitude slipped away. He shifted his feet, cleared his throat. "Well…"

She gave him a brave little smile. "Well."

He stuffed his hands in his back pockets. "I'll see you at the Shamrock."

I don't think so.
But she wouldn't tell him that. No drama. That would be most uncool.

He didn't owe her anything, nor did she owe him.

"See you," she answered. What else was there to say?

"Uh, don't get up," he stammered, though she'd made no move. "I can show myself out. Should I check on your friend before I go?"

Jessi. She'd almost forgotten. Someone ought to make sure she was all right. "No, I'll go over in a little while. I've got her key, remember."

"Oh, yeah. Right." He shifted again, then went still as their eyes met. "You're sweet, Layla. A nice girl."

A nice girl. But not the kind of girl for someone like you.

He didn't ask for her number, didn't say he'd give her a call. Though that saddened her some, she respected him for not making lame promises he had no intention of keeping. And by not lying, maybe that meant he respected her, too.

He'd meant to hook up with Jessi, but ended up with Layla instead. What were his words?
"You're here…I'm here…"
She'd been the pinch hitter, the substitute.

She couldn't complain. She'd had the time of her life, a hot memory to keep her warm for a long time to come. And he'd been just as into her as she was into him. But they couldn't spend all their time in bed, and in the light of day, they just didn't compute. Cam knew that, and Layla realized she had to face it too.

She simply was not in his league.

"Take care." His voice was soft. He hesitated a moment as though tempted to say more, then turned and left.

Layla waited, a little numb, a little sad, until she heard the front door quietly close. Letting the bedclothes fall away, she stood and slowly picked up the garments strewn across the floor and placed them on her desk. She slipped into a short robe hanging on her bedroom door.

The cool, silky feel of the fabric on her naked skin sent a small shiver through her. Her body was still sensitive, remembering Cam's touch. A thought came to her—not instantly, like the burst of a flash bulb, but gradually, a glimmer turning brighter and brighter.

During their short time together, Cam had wanted her and only her. He couldn't get enough. He'd loved her ample ass, her generous breasts, her rounded tummy. He'd told her all this—not in words, no, but in how he'd behaved. It was she, Layla, who'd made him hot, made him come. Not Jessi or any other woman.

Pride warmed her, made her heart swell.
Layla Messner, tonight
you
were the hot chick.

But the rest of the world would not agree. A guy as hot as Cam could only be seen with someone equally drool-worthy. Sexy arm candy he could show off to all his friends. Not a curvy girl, a chubbette like Layla, no matter how nice or sweet or smart. No matter how much magic they shared in bed.

And maybe, just maybe, that was
his
loss.

She drifted to the window, pulling the curtain aside to gaze down at the parking lot. Cam's Suburban was still where he'd parked it. But she didn't see him. Funny he wasn't down there yet. How long did it take to get down two flights of stairs?

****

Cam lingered in the stairwell. Nothing tonight had turned out the way he'd imagined. He'd expected no more tonight than a quick hookup with Jessi behind the Shamrock, but somehow found himself burning up the sheets with her sidekick, little Layla.

Hell, who was he kidding? No
somehow
about it. Once he realized Jessi was a no go, he'd made a play for Layla, and he wasn't sorry. She was cute. A sweet kid. He liked how she'd looked after Jessi, the way she'd talked about her student Henry. How she'd asked questions about him, Cam, and his family.

Guilt gnawed him as he recalled the disappointment on her face when she found him dressing to leave. It made no sense. He'd had plenty of hookups in the past and was never bothered by remorse. But maybe that was because he and his fuck buddies were always on the same page. It was all about scratching an itch, nothing more.

But the look on Layla's face told him she'd expected—or at least hoped for—more than that.

But he couldn't make false promises. It wouldn't work for them. A girl like Layla would want a boyfriend and all that entailed: date nights, dinners and movies, snuggling in front of the TV, the occasional bunch of flowers. His one attempt at that had blown up in his face. Since then, he'd devoted himself to work and school, and those took up too much of his life.

Yeah, sure, Cleary. Like that's the only reason you can't be with her.

Not for nothing, but he knew he was a good-looking dude. Every night at work, he had chicks eyeing him, slipping him their numbers along with their drink tips. Didn't he deserve a girl he could be proud to show off?

You mean like Jessi?

A sour taste filled his mouth. Jessi. Yeah, she was hot, but what a bitch. No thank you.

Layla, on the other hand, was anything but a bitch.
Too bad
s
he's just not my type.

Your type. You mean she's not what your friends would call a hottie. You're thinking about all the side-eyes they'd give you, all the shit you'd get if you showed up somewhere with her on your arm.