Read Craving Her Curves Online

Authors: Nora Stone

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Craving Her Curves

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Craving Her Curves

Book 1

Nora Stone

Copyright © 2014 Nora Stone

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher

www.mahoganypublications.com

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

PROLOGUE

T
he car slowed to a halt. That was my cue. I screamed around the gag stuffed into my mouth, kicking my feet against the window of the backdoor as hard as I could in hopes that someone would hear or see me, and hopefully call the police. But it didn’t last long. A gun barrel appeared, inches from my face. My life instantly flashed in front of my eyes; how had I ended up in this situation? Better yet, how was I going to get out of this alive?

CHAPTER ONE

I
sighed, the warm Dallas fall air blowing across my face as I slipped a few ones into the slot to pay for my parking space in the lot downtown, and then I started walking. Taking the train in would have kept me from having to pay for parking, but I tried not to do that on Mondays. Knowing my luck, I’d be assigned something that required me to drive out to Seagoville or something, and then I’d be pissed I hadn’t driven because I’d have to take the train back to my car before I could go do my job. No, life was simpler if I just drove on Mondays, and then I could see what the week held and decide what days to drive based off of that.

The office of
Pinks
was what it always was on a Monday morning: quiet and scarily devoid of coffee. What magazine office was ever without coffee?
Pinks
was, until boss lady, otherwise known as Jade, got there. I sighed and slinked over to my desk, Isobel’s head popping up over the wall before I’d even gotten into the chair.

“Psst! Charlotte! I’ve already got the weekend list.” She hissed. I snickered.

“Izzy, it’s not even 10 a.m. yet. How did you manage to get the list already?” I asked. She trotted into my small cube and plopped down in the guest chair, flipping strawberry blonde ringlets back out of her face with a huff.

“Remember that guy I was flirting with Friday? Turns out he was the party planner for that club, and he let me take a peek at his book,” she said with a giggle and a wink.

“Wait, so you have the parties for that club next weekend?” I asked. She shook her head.

“He had all of them listed, so that he could plan what night to hold what event. You know, schedule the party with the most potential to pull everyone’s customers in and all that.” She said. 

I nodded, “And you remember it all?” I asked.

“No, he went to the bathroom and I made a photocopy.” She said. We screamed in laughter, then immediately began hushing each other. Isobel had the most infectious laugh I’d ever heard, which meant that sometimes it would bring the office running to get in on the joke, even when it was none of their business.

“So, have you picked a route?” I asked, hushing my giggles. Izzy nodded.

“Yeah, but we still need to run it past Jacinta,” she said.

I signed and nodded, “Lunch?”

Izzy grinned, “Sounds like a plan. Noon? What are you supposed to be doing today?”  She asked. I snorted a laugh and spun around in my chair to log into my system.

“I’m supposed to be interviewing some football player for the ‘Sexiest Guy in Sports’ piece this morning, but his agent hasn’t confirmed as of last night.” I said, waiting as the mailbox loaded up.

“What guy?” Isobel asked.

“Oh yeah, you like football, I forgot. Someone from the Bullets... Um, his name is Joey Parker,” I said, which meant nothing to me, but apparently meant that Izzy needed to almost hyperventilate and shake me hysterically.

“You’re interviewing the sexiest quarterback in the NFL today and you didn’t tell me?” she asked, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she flung me back and forth and I laughed.

“I have no idea if he’s the sexiest anything; you know I don’t do football. Jade just told me that he’d won the vote for this issue and I needed to set up the interview,” I said. Izzy slumped down in the chair.

“Joey Parker is God’s gift to football and women, Char. He’s tall, blue eyed, muscled, and has that light brown, almost blond shade of hair that you know I love. And, get this: he has been quoted everywhere saying that he doesn’t really like skinny girls. He likes something to hold on to.” She said with a lusty wink.

“He sounds like your other half.” I said with a dramatic eye roll. Izzy laughed and pushed my leg playfully.

“He is! You are totally unworthy for this interview; you didn’t even know who he was until just now! I’ve loved that man for years.  I’m jealous and I hate you,” she said with a pout. I giggled and started reading my emails.

“Oh, lookie there, the interview is finally confirmed,” I said, glancing back to Isobel with a teasing grin.

“I hate you so much,” she said, standing. I laughed.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back and we can go meet Jacinta for lunch,” I said. She nodded, trying so hard to keep the frown from turning into a smile that I had to work not to laugh at her. I loved Izzy; she was so cute. Even when she wasn’t trying to be.

“Mmhm.” She said, turning and leaving me to the rest of my inbox. I snickered and started wading through the tide.

~~~

“D
id you finally hear back from that agent?” Jade asked, slipping into the office kitchen behind me as I grabbed a cup of coffee. I grinned and nodded.

“She answered last night, finally. And apologized for taking so long to get back to me,” I said. Jade made an impressed sound.

“I knew assigning this one to you was a good idea,” she said with a smile.

“Why did you assign this one to me, anyway? I don’t really follow football; if Izzy hadn’t told me who this guy was this morning, I’d have had no idea,” I said. Which wasn’t to say that I hadn’t done my homework on him... I had. I needed to know what questions to ask. But that hadn’t really told me who he was, not the way a fan could.

“I chose you because you’re
not
a football fan, honestly. I wanted someone who could write the article and have it appeal to more than just the ladies who already know who he is and what he’s done. I want it written so that someone who knows nothing about football can read it and enjoy it. Maybe we can gain him some new fans and us some new readers,” she said with a smirk. I nodded my understanding.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense, when you think about it like that,” I said. Jade leaned her hip against the counter and grinned, nodding.

“That piece that Kia did last month about that guy that plays basketball for the Jaspers?  Everyone loved the article, everyone loves the column... Except for the women who had no idea what she was talking about when she said that he’s a power forward, or that his three pointers have a 97% accuracy rate from the line. They claimed that they didn’t dislike the piece, but that they couldn’t understand it. I need someone who is coming from the outside, to write something that everyone can read and love,” she said.

I nodded again and laughed, “Well, I definitely fit the bill; I have no idea what is going on during a football game.”

“Me either.  My husband has been trying to get me into football for years, but to me, it’s just men in tight pants, running around on a field with a ball,” she said. I snickered.

“The men in tight pants part sounds fun,” I said. Jade snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, if my husband wasn’t all jealous of me staring at all those man-butts, I’d actually watch the games with him,” Jade said, the two of us laughing out loud.

“I know a few women who watch with their husbands or boyfriends and pick who to root for by the colors on their uniforms. The pretty ones get their votes,” I said.

Jade giggled, “Maybe I’ll try that next time. Oh, and the piece you and Isobel did on the club opening a few weeks ago, golden. It’s running in the next issue.”

I grinned and nodded, “Awesome. I hope it gives that place some exposure, this city needs something different.”

Jade nodded, “The owner of the place called; apparently, she has a friend up here that gave her a heads-up about the article. She wanted to thank you guys, so try and go past there this weekend. Saturday night, if you can.”

“We’ll make it happen,” I said, filing that information away to tell Izzy later.

“Do you need anything, access to somewhere or someone, something I need to get working on for you?” she asked. I smiled, as that was the kind of boss Jade was: Never afraid to get out there and get her hands dirty. She might have had the title of manager, but she was sometimes out there running after stories as much as we were.

“Nope. But I do need to get going; that interview is in about an hour,” I said, shoving a top onto the cooling cup of coffee and turning to head back to my desk and grab my things.

“Good luck!” Jade said. 

“I’m going to need it,” I giggled.

CHAPTER TWO

T
he Bullet’s training grounds were located in Plano, an affluent Dallas County north of downtown. The parking lot was big enough to accommodate a good-sized crowd, since die-hard fans would come out and watch them practice while sipping their beers and eating their hot dogs. I had no idea what I was getting myself into: I was a Chanel and Louboutin girl, and I didn’t even understand what was going on during a football game. Yet here I was, about to interview a man who was apparently worshipped by women and men alike, though for different reasons.

The facility that the Bullets used to train was massive. I glanced down at the directions through the building that Joey’s agent had given me, and started walking. The entryway was easily three stories tall, capped off with a massive glass ceiling that let the sunlight shine down onto the wide corridor that I stood in. I’d been told that this was an off-time, so the businesses and stores that I was passing were locked down at the moment. It didn’t stop me from jotting down notes for the readers who’d never been to the practice facility.

“Restaurants... Cafés... Gear Shops... Shoe stores?” I said, pausing and looking through the clear shutters. Yeah, shoes. Really nice shoes. I made an impressed noise and jotted it down on my notepad. They had something for everyone, didn’t they? I turned to see what else was there and caught sight of the other thing I needed: the ladies room. No point in not making sure I was presentable, right?

The restroom was immaculate: it smelled like lilies and happiness in there, not to mention that you could probably eat off of the counters. The stalls were little rooms, walled off individually with wooden doors on each, and free-standing sinks topped with large mirrors and makeup lighting. I was thoroughly impressed.

I flipped the big blonde ringlets that my hair always seemed to fall into naturally back over my shoulder and leaned in close to the mirror. My stormy, blue-gray eyes leapt from my visage, accentuated by the smoky grays and silvers that were my usual default for my eyes. I’d gone with a rather neutral light pink gloss on my lips that day, so lipstick on the teeth wasn’t an issue. Izzy had tried to talk me into a deep red before I’d left the office, but I wasn’t trying to pick the guy up, just interview him. That had resulted in a new round of pouts and evil looks. I snickered at myself in the mirror and rolled my eyes, remembering.

I’d just had my nails done, so everything was in order there. Relatively tasteful skirt and button up top to match were in place. Perhaps a bit more cleavage than was expected, but once you get over a C cup, there’s always more cleavage than expected if something is V-cut. There was nothing I could do about that. I’d switched from my trusty tennis shoes to my heeled sandals in the parking lot before I’d come inside, for professionalism. I sighed and looked myself up and down before gathering my things again. Nothing left to do but get to the interview.

It was almost eight minutes of walking before I reached the weight room that Joey’s agent had told me to go into for the interview. The weight room was huge too, but then again, if an entire team was working out in there, they probably needed the room. I noted it and turned right, as instructed.

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