Read Online Curve Contract (Big Girls Next Door Erotica) by Christa Wick - Free Book Online
Authors: Christa Wick
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zero intention of giving me the woman’s name.
“You should.” I patted his shoulder, deciding that I was definitely tipsy from just the one glass. Small surprise -- other than the two sushi rolls, I'd had a cup of coffee, an apple and some water -- far, far below my normal daily intake. There hadn't been room on the day's agenda for food.
Aiming for Blake's chest, I missed and poked him in the throat with my index finger. “Why aren't you marrying her, instead?”
“You mean why am I paying you to marry me?” He closed his eyes, a sad smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. “The woman I love is obnoxiously clueless about how I feel.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around, it seems.” Hearing the pain in his voice, I almost felt sorry for him. Maybe I did, a little. But I felt sorrier for myself. The man I had a serious crush on was in love with someone else and I had to marry him and pretend to pretend I loved him. That was all kinds of fucked up.
Leaning back against the cushion, I closed my eyes. “You should tell her.”
“I will, when she's ready to hear it.” His hand brushed my face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear before sliding behind me. His thumb played along the small of my back, making me melt deeper into the cushion. “Right now she’s got her walls up.”
I nodded. As different as I might be from this mystery woman in the flesh, I’d built a few walls myself. First with my parents, then with men after a few lovers had used me as their safety rebound -- the fat chick they thought they could walk all over.
My head started to slide toward his chest. I tried to lift it but my eyes were closing, my brain shutting down. Feeling an arm along the back of my knees, I clutched Blake’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“As much as I’d rather do something else with you, PJ, I’m putting you to bed.” He lifted me, rolling my body against his broad chest. “You're exhausted.”
I couldn't argue with that. I was asleep before we reached the bedroom.
**********
There was no rose when I woke the next morning. No Blake, either. Once again, I'd slept too late. I took a quick shower and let my hair air dry while I painted on a little bit of pretty. I was searching for my bag in the living room when Abigail popped around a corner and told me she was making me an omelet.
“I really have to run--”
“Mr. Cross said to let you sleep until you woke naturally and make sure you ate something before you left. I have it all mixed -- it won't take more than five minutes to cook and another five to eat.”
I suppressed a frown as I tapped the clock app on my phone and set an alarm for the week. It was Blake, not Abigail, being bossy and I didn't want her to think I was upset with her. Still, I needed to go. I opened my mouth, ready to argue, when my stomach gurgled.
“Fine.” Sighing, I followed her into the kitchen. “But I can't make a habit of going in late.”
“No life of leisure for you after the wedding, eh?” She poured the blended eggs onto a flat skillet where they sizzled and popped.
“Not a chance.” I peeled a banana while I watched her cook.
“Mr. Cross said you were independent, that you had a hard time letting people take care of you.”
Blake certainly had me pegged on that point. Depending on someone else was the surest path to disappointment. I'd learned that young and Gorman's betrayal had only reinforced my opinion. I didn't want to talk about it, though, so I steered the conversation in a new direction. “You're very fond of Blake, aren't you?”
“He's practically a fourth son.” Abigail folded the omelet onto a plate and slid it along the counter to me. “I definitely feel a mother's joy knowing he found you.”
She cleared her throat and I realized she was getting a little misty-eyed.
“You know, I caught him in the hall this morning as he was leaving the bedroom. He just had to stop and stare at you.” Her hands moved up and
“You should.” I patted his shoulder, deciding that I was definitely tipsy from just the one glass. Small surprise -- other than the two sushi rolls, I'd had a cup of coffee, an apple and some water -- far, far below my normal daily intake. There hadn't been room on the day's agenda for food.
Aiming for Blake's chest, I missed and poked him in the throat with my index finger. “Why aren't you marrying her, instead?”
“You mean why am I paying you to marry me?” He closed his eyes, a sad smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. “The woman I love is obnoxiously clueless about how I feel.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around, it seems.” Hearing the pain in his voice, I almost felt sorry for him. Maybe I did, a little. But I felt sorrier for myself. The man I had a serious crush on was in love with someone else and I had to marry him and pretend to pretend I loved him. That was all kinds of fucked up.
Leaning back against the cushion, I closed my eyes. “You should tell her.”
“I will, when she's ready to hear it.” His hand brushed my face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear before sliding behind me. His thumb played along the small of my back, making me melt deeper into the cushion. “Right now she’s got her walls up.”
I nodded. As different as I might be from this mystery woman in the flesh, I’d built a few walls myself. First with my parents, then with men after a few lovers had used me as their safety rebound -- the fat chick they thought they could walk all over.
My head started to slide toward his chest. I tried to lift it but my eyes were closing, my brain shutting down. Feeling an arm along the back of my knees, I clutched Blake’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“As much as I’d rather do something else with you, PJ, I’m putting you to bed.” He lifted me, rolling my body against his broad chest. “You're exhausted.”
I couldn't argue with that. I was asleep before we reached the bedroom.
**********
There was no rose when I woke the next morning. No Blake, either. Once again, I'd slept too late. I took a quick shower and let my hair air dry while I painted on a little bit of pretty. I was searching for my bag in the living room when Abigail popped around a corner and told me she was making me an omelet.
“I really have to run--”
“Mr. Cross said to let you sleep until you woke naturally and make sure you ate something before you left. I have it all mixed -- it won't take more than five minutes to cook and another five to eat.”
I suppressed a frown as I tapped the clock app on my phone and set an alarm for the week. It was Blake, not Abigail, being bossy and I didn't want her to think I was upset with her. Still, I needed to go. I opened my mouth, ready to argue, when my stomach gurgled.
“Fine.” Sighing, I followed her into the kitchen. “But I can't make a habit of going in late.”
“No life of leisure for you after the wedding, eh?” She poured the blended eggs onto a flat skillet where they sizzled and popped.
“Not a chance.” I peeled a banana while I watched her cook.
“Mr. Cross said you were independent, that you had a hard time letting people take care of you.”
Blake certainly had me pegged on that point. Depending on someone else was the surest path to disappointment. I'd learned that young and Gorman's betrayal had only reinforced my opinion. I didn't want to talk about it, though, so I steered the conversation in a new direction. “You're very fond of Blake, aren't you?”
“He's practically a fourth son.” Abigail folded the omelet onto a plate and slid it along the counter to me. “I definitely feel a mother's joy knowing he found you.”
She cleared her throat and I realized she was getting a little misty-eyed.
“You know, I caught him in the hall this morning as he was leaving the bedroom. He just had to stop and stare at you.” Her hands moved up and
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