Read Online Dancing With A Dom: A BBW Romance by Katherine Deane - Free Book Online

into stepping up. Crap, it was a lot to think about. But, first, he needed to get his mind back on task.
    He double knotted his left shoe and listened absently to the audio guys do their mic checks.
    After their third mic check, one said, “Sound off,” and he heard shuffling. But the voices kept coming over the loudspeaker.
    Dumbasses . He shook his head and grinned as they continued talking about the weather, the best beer, and who got laid last week.
    “Shit, the old man is really going for broke, though, with this one,” said one.
    “Yeah. The contestants are a bit different from normal. Me, I’m rooting for the soldier. Even with one good leg, I think he’s gonna kill it,” said another.
    “What do you think of the fat one?”
    Fuck, fuck, fuck! He didn’t stop to put on the other shoe. He tore through the back of the wings and up the stairs to the sound booth.
    “Well, she’s kinda hot. But not like Sveta. No one’s going to replace Sveta in Dane’s mind. But, then again, he would do anything to save the old man’s station.”
    He saw red. He would tear off their fucking heads. He tripped up the last step and continued his enraged charge, high crawling and leaping onto the landing.
    “Even hump a fatty?” The harsh commentary continued, echoing through the stairwell.
    “Even that.”
    “Turn the fucking sound system off!” Dane was shouting before he even got through the door.
    “Shit, man, sorry.”
    Dane wasn’t listening. He looked out onto the floor to see a dozen pairs of eyes scowling up at him, and a cascade of red hair as Macy rushed from the room.
    Fuck .
     
    ***
     
    Light streamed in through the curtains. I groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow on top of my head. I did not want to be awake yet. I didn’t care what time it was, or how sunny the sun was, or how chirpy the birds sang. If I woke up, I would have to acknowledge yesterday, and, honestly, I wasn’t ready for that.
    I was humiliated last night. All those people looking at me, while pretending not to look. They watched me contort my expression into a “whatever” look. The fat comments weren’t that bad. I was used to them. I expected them—especially when surrounded by beautiful women half my size. So it wasn’t that. It was the moment when I finally realized the truth. That Dane was just using me. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew how much he loved his uncle, and that the station was failing. But I thought he was genuine. For a little while there, I actually thought he liked me for me. Truly accepted me—all of me. The good, the bad, the other stuff…
    And when they said those final words, those final, mortifyingly loud words that carried through a much-too-silent ballroom made for echoing, I lost it. I felt my face crumple, my shoulders sag, my breaths hitch. All those people—the pretty people—were giving me such looks of sympathy, I couldn’t take it. Even the hot chick who used to be Dane’s girlfriend gave me a look of such embarrassingly sour pity, I thought I might throw up right there. I hadn’t wanted to cry in front of them. And I didn’t want them to feel sorry for me. So I ran. As fast as my lead-filled, too-shaky legs would take me. Home. To bed. Where I curled up in a little ball and cried. Because that’s what you do when your feelings get hurt, right? You hide and sleep.
    God, how pitiful was I? I didn’t drink anything last night, so it’s not like I was hung over. I think I was sleep -over. That moment when you sleep so much, you get more tired, which makes you want to sleep more.
    Did I eat anything for dinner?
    My stomach rumbled just then. There was my answer. Odd, normally I would have drowned my sorrows in food, ice cream, and chocolate, anything I could get my hands on. But all I had wanted to do was sleep. Forget about it. No, I wasn’t going to go there, not yet. My stomach rumbled again and cramped. I groaned into my pillow.
    I could get up, get something to