The Curvy Sister (A BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“Let go of me, Jason King!
This is none of your business.” I planted my fists into his chest and shoved
him back down when he tried to sit up. My strength must have surprised him
because he let go and I clamored off his body, slid in the silky Nebraska mud
and planted hands wrist deep in the sucking mess. When I tried to pull away,
something sharp, a piece of broken headlight, dug into my forearm and sent a
shot of pain up through my shoulder.

I ignored the pain and
climbed to my feet. I panted, out of breath and starting to lose my momentum
when I reached down to pull the bat from a puddle behind the front wheel.

“Cassidy…” Jason started as
he climbed to his knees, but I wasn’t listening.

“Shut up,” I warned with the
fat end of the bat in front of his face. I wasn’t going to leave until I’d
ruined something.

And then before anyone could
stop me, I took a batter’s stance and prepared to lay one last swing and
shatter the windshield completely

“Cassidy Blue you are a
certifiable
lunatic
. You’ve gone completely off the rails, you know
that? Wait till I tell mom!”

Sometime in my struggle with
Jason, Bailey had left her dry ivory tower to chase me into the storm. When she
screamed my name, I froze.

Bailey pretended to be the
meek, fragile little sister, but we both knew better. She was as mean as a
rattlesnake when she wanted to be, and more than once she’d bested me as a kid
in a fist fight even when I was twice her weight because she played dirty and
played to win.

“Get over it, Cass,” she said
over the wind and the rain and the thunder. “Go. Home.”

I felt Jason’s body behind
me. He wrapped his hands around mine and worked them loose until I had no
choice but to give up my weapon. I couldn’t look away from Bailey. She took the
fight right out of me.

 “Why?” I hated begging, but
my heart had stopped existing months ago and now the hollow space it had taken
up threatened to swallow the rest of me. “Why would you do this, Bailey? Why in
God’s name would you send me an invitation?”

Her fury evaporated just like
that, washed away in the rain. She blinked her big blue eyes and released her
arms to her sides.

“You’re my sister, Cass.
Besides,” she shrugged innocently and used the back of her hand to flutter away
the raindrops from her eyelashes. “I want you to be there with me. And mom
wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t. Come on Cass, why don’t you go home?” And in
case I believed she was at all sincere, added, “While you still have one.”

3

____________

I launched myself at my
sister fully intent on ripping her pretty blonde hair from her pretty head. She
screamed and jerked back out of my reach when Jason snagged me from behind. His
arms slid around my waist and anchored me against his body.

“No you don’t, that’s enough.
Put your claws away, Cassidy Blue.”

Once I was no longer a
threat, Bailey ran back to the porch. “Jonathan, call the sheriff. Tell him
what my psycho sister’s done now.”

I was honestly surprised when
Jason barked an order for her to stop.

“Do
not
call the
sheriff, what’s wrong with you? She’s your sister. I’ll make sure she gets home
and that she stays there.”

Jonathan nodded, reluctantly,
and caught up his bride when she reached the stairs. His mother appeared with
towels, coddling the little bird like she’d been the one I took the bat to
instead.

“Let me go,” I sighed and
settled heavy and exhausted against his chest. There wasn’t much
oomph
behind my voice. For the first time I could feel the cold and the wet and the
ache in my bones.

“Not gonna happen. Come on.
I’ll take you home.”

I didn’t fight him and he
didn’t fight me, though I resisted having the door to his SUV opened for me and
being pushed in like a child. When he stepped up into the cab and pulled my
seatbelt across my lap for me, I swatted him away.

“I’m not a child. Stop it.
Don’t touch me.” I growled ineffectually, slipped my hand out of his grasp only
for him to harden his expression and grab me again, this time tighter and less
forgiving. His grip crushed my wrist. The throb of pain shot up my arm and I
gave a cry, startling us both.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust
you not go off like some kind of wild animal. Now hold still before you bleed
to death.” He kept hold of my hand, though softened now, and popped open the
glove compartment with the other. He grabbed a navy blue bandana and wrapped it
securely around my forearm. Pain brightened and I bit down and jerked my face
away from his so he couldn’t see.

“Stay,” he ordered and took
off for the driver’s side.

I clutched my arm against my
chest. The pain ebbed to a constant level, but nothing I didn’t think I
couldn’t ignore. I sighed and let my head fall back against the headrest.
Whatever burst of energy I’d gotten to fuel my rampage left me.

 “Just take me home.”

We didn’t talk as he pulled
out of the driveway, slushing and sliding a bit before hitting the rocked
covered road leading back to my house and the highway.

The quiet wasn’t as bad as
I’d expect it to be. It wasn’t like Jason King and I had ever been friends when
he still lived in Castle Creek, but we weren’t enemies either. He didn’t seem
angry at me for taking a baseball bat to his brother’s truck and that was
surprising. He’d been a year older than me in high school, beautiful even then,
but knew the power he wielded over others and did so without shame. His
reputation as a womanizing playboy started in high school and I doubted his time
in NYC had been especially pious. Still, he didn’t look like an asshole who’d
sooner get your pants off than talk to you. Not at first glance, in the dark,
soaked in rain and mud.

When his attention on the
uneven dirt road kept him from paying any attention to me, I risked a sidelong
look at the infamous King grandson. Jason didn’t have the sun burnt coloring of
his grandfather or Jonathan. He looked like he worked in a big corporate office
with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a lot of big buildings. He looked
like a guy who did lunch meetings and not at places with cracked leather booths
and mismatched salt and pepper shakers. He kept his hazelnut brown hair clean
cut and his strong King jaw line smooth and baby soft. Even though he was
smeared head-to-toe in black mud, he held himself like he was going to a nice
party in his button up dress shirt and slacks. The mud was just a quirky
accessory. 

His hands gave him away for
what he truly was, a Nebraska man, born and raised in the corn fields, explorer
of creek beds, collector of frogs and toads and crickets. Fisherman, hunter,
Boy Scout by blood. Those calloused, thick fingers spent many summers
detasseling corn and bailing hay. They’d held the reigns of horses and baited
fishing lines.

Now those rough hands gripped
the steering wheel tight, but not anxious. Nebraska men didn’t get anxious
about much, certainly not a little rain, even if they preferred the lights of
Broadway these days.

He caught me staring at his
knuckles. The blue glow from the console lights made his already indecently
blue eyes bright, like they were lit from within, and I had to look away.
Anyone who denied Jason King was beautiful to look at was a liar and a jealous
fraud. He and his younger brother looked somewhat alike, though Jason was a
little bigger in stature.

I’d fallen in love with
Jonathan once upon a time, after all. And like his brother, as it turned out,
Jason’s pretty was notoriously only skin deep. Beneath the charming veneer was
a boy who’d once slept with half the school and at least two teachers if rumor
was to be believed. Even if only half those stories were true.

Not that the girls were any
better. Jason King should have been the lottery for some lucky Castle girl, if
he could have brought himself to choose one. A one way ticket out of this
nowhere town and into the big city where money and luxury would never be a
problem. Jason got the fancy degree and the wealth and the upscale job, but he
never bothered to pick a Castle Creek girl to share it with. Maybe I didn’t
blame him. They wanted out so badly they were willing to
do
anyone or
anything for a ticket out.

They. Not me. In high school
Jason King wouldn’t have crossed the room to tell me my hair was on fire, let
alone screw me in the back of his SUV. And unlike all the other girls in Castle
Creek, I did not want to leave. I had no reason to chase him, and no hope of
success. I’d only dated Jonathan after we both went to the state university and
only got engaged once we’d returned home after graduation. Bailey might have
been Jason’s type. I wasn’t sure.

“You’re probably freezing,”
he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

He ignored me and took one
fist from the steering wheel to click through buttons and knobs on the console
until a gust of warm air filled the cab.

“I can’t believe you took a
baseball bat to his truck.”

If I didn’t know better, he
almost sounded impressed.

I shrugged.

“I was upset.”

“No shit.”

I felt him glancing at me.
The vehicle swerved a little and he immediately returned his attention to the
road.

“What are you even doing
here?” I asked, bitterness clouding my voice. “Home for the big engagement
celebration?”

“Not exactly.” Jason paused
and squeezed the steering wheel before continuing. “My grandfather’s not doing
so hot these days. He didn’t plant much this year. First time in fifty years,
actually. I’m helping him get things in order, figure out what to do going
forward.”

“Jonathan’s not going to farm
it?” The news surprised me, and when I looked at him I noticed his jaw tighten.

“Not by himself.”

I nodded. I’d seen Garton
King in town a few times lately and each time he looked more thin and frail
than the last. He carried a cane now and looked really pissed off about it.

“So you’ll be here for the
wedding preparations.”

“Looks like.”

“Lucky you.”

Rolls of thunder made more
conversation impossible, at least that’s the excuse I used. I rested my head
against the cold glass and let my eyes go weak watching the drops stream down
the window.

We bumped along up my
driveway minutes later, and I noted with some displeasure the white sheet
wrapped around the second floor turret roof. In my temporary psychosis I’d also
forgotten to secure the barn doors or, apparently, shut the back door.

Jason killed the engine and
with the windshield wipers stilled, the world all but disappeared outside the
curtain of rain. “I’ll get the barn door. You make a run for the porch.”

I snarled like he’d just
threatened to set my house on fire instead. “
I’ll
get the barn door.
You
go home.”

He ignored me. “Ready? One,
two…”

I shoved open the door and
the shock of cold rain took my breath away. I struggled out of the cab, my arm
screaming when I tried to use the door for leverage, cursing the storm, the
mud, the cold, Jason King, and everyone else in the whole world. I used my weight
to close the door and made a dash for the porch.

The screen door had battered
itself against its frame until it hung slightly askew. My grandmother was
surely rolling in her grave that I’d been so careless with her home.

In the distance I could make out
the shape of the red barn, but couldn’t see Jason. I shouldn’t hate him. He
didn’t cheat on me. But he was a King and all Kings had serious entitlement
issues that made them impossible to trust. Jason and his father had at least
been honest enough to pack up and leave for the big city where their kind fit
in with the other sharks.

I shuffled into the kitchen,
ignored the trail of rain and filth I dragged in with me. Tomorrow. I’d clean
everything tomorrow, but not tonight. Tonight I was all full up on exhaustion
and embarrassment and there was no room left for tidiness.

Mystic slunk out of her
hiding spot underneath the red dresser I used to store towels and Tupperware.
She met my feet and immediately backpedaled when she realized the floor was now
covered in water. She backed her butt up to the rug under the sink and mewled
pitifully.

My shoes squeaked when I
stopped in front of the mess of mint green peanuts and the open blue box. I
couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

I was still standing there
when the broken screen door opened noisily and Jason King let himself into my
kitchen. I could hear him behind me, the
dripdripdrip
and
squeaksqueaksqueak
of shoes on wet wood.

He walked past me and
disappeared down a hallway towards the guest room, bathroom, and conservatory.
I had no idea what he thought he was doing, but whatever pistons should have
been firing in my brain weren’t, so I just stood there. The bathroom light went
on, the water too. When he returned minutes later, he had an armful of towels
in his hands.