Curvosity

CURVOSITY
Christin M Lovell

***

Curvosity

Copyright 2011 by Christin M Lovell

***

This is a work of fiction. The
characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s
imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

***

Smashwords Edition

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respecting the author's work.

***

This book is dedicated to all the women with
excess sexiness. Regardless of our size, we all deserve the man of
our dreams: a man who melts our insides as he loves our
outside.

***

PROLOGUE

Hi, I'm Lucy and I'm a curvy
woman. Ok, so maybe curvy is a bit of an understatement. So I don't
have Jennifer Aniston's abs, Jen Garner's arms or Gwyneth Paltrow's
legs; I have a lot of other things to make up for it. For instance,
I'm funny, though often it's unintentional. I have a great heart,
and a huge crush on 
the
 Maxwell Banks, although I'd
gladly give him up for just a taste of Ian Somerhalder. My point
is, I'm a wonderful person, if only Max could get past the excess
sexiness. Ok, so maybe it's a bit more like excess stuffing, but
everyone enjoys it at Thanksgiving, right?

Who knows? Maybe I'll have a
Cinderella moment and my fairy godmother, played by the fabulous
Jane Fonda, will grant my wish... Don't burst my bubble! A girl
deserves the right to dream!

***

Chapter 1

Maxwell Banks stared out the
large windows of his picturesque corner office overlooking the snow
covered skyline. As CEO of Maxwell Banks Industries and Alpha of
the Banks County werewolf pack, he appeared to have it all. His
navy blue tailored suit only emphasized the money and power behind
his tall, dark and beyond-Fabio-handsome good looks. He had a great
life; everything one could wish for, except a mate.

The torturous part? Max knew
who his true mate was. He’d scented her the second she walked
through his doors for her interview. She was nothing like what he’d
envisioned himself with. She was curvaceous and vivacious; she had
enough spunk to challenge his wolf, yet enough sense not to poke
him. She was perfect; except she was human. She had not a lick of
wolf in or on her.

To distract himself, he’d
dated nearly every girl he shook hands with at least once, but they
never satisfied him, in or out of bed. He was a broken man in a
dreamer’s world.

“Need anything else before I
leave Mr. Banks?” Lucy poked her head into his office. He had to
hold back the growl of his wolf, the incessant need to claim
her.

She was beautiful, her large
hips making it nearly impossible for another person to fit through
the doorway with her. It was almost an understated power play; she
controlled who could and couldn’t gain access to him. Her long,
dark brown locks glowed beneath the recessed lights; a few rays
creating the illusion of a halo. Her soft, rosy cheeks emphasized
her healthy complexion while her full lips teased him. What he
wouldn’t do to have those luscious lips trailing his body, petting
his wolf.

“Mr. Banks?” Her brow
raised; she shifted uncomfortably, unsure of herself.

Max cleared his throat,
pulling his suit jacket down to try to cover his burgeoning
erection. She got the best of him every time. “No, Lucy. Just go.”
The words came out harsh, but if she didn’t close the damn door
soon he was going to be liable for pouncing her, and the legal
department already hated him.

***

Lucy pursed her lips, unsure
of what’d set her boss off. He was always moody. Either he was a
nymphomaniac and never satisfied or the women he had weren’t
satisfactory she’d decided. No man having great sex could scowl as
often as Max. He was always on edge despite having a new blonde
Barbie on his arm every night. She should know; she made the dinner
reservations. It didn’t stop her from drooling over him in her
dreams at night though.

Giving up on solving the
riddle that was Mr. buff and bodacious Banks, Lucy nodded and
closed his office door. She went back to her desk, bundled up
before grabbing her purse and heading out.

***

Max listened as Lucy left.
He quickly went to his computer and accessed the security cameras
to ensure she reached her car safely like always. She dropped her
keys outside the elevator. He groaned, gripping himself as she bent
over, giving him a perfect view of her round rump.

“How long you plannin’ to
torture yourself man?” Donte asked. His best friend, brother, and
pack Beta stood in the doorway to his office. Max had been so
involved in watching Lucy he didn’t even hear the wolf stalk his
way.

Max turned off the monitor
once Lucy was in her car and faced the man who dared to wear a
wolfy grin and amused eyes. “As long as I have to.”

“What exactly do you think
Lucy is going to do? Run away screaming?”

“Yes,” he stated, staring
the Beta down. Donte shifted his gaze. He never could hold his
brother’s challenge.

“I’m calling
bullshit.”

“Did you come down here just
to interrogate me?” Max bit out.

Donte laughed. “Damn. It’s
that serious, bro?”

Max shoved out of his chair
and headed out the door, leaving his brother standing alone in his
office.

“Alright, alright. So it’s
serious.” Donte conceded, quickly catching up to Max. “You can’t
hold out forever. I’m surprised you’ve lasted two years.” He
squared off with Max beside the elevators. “One day she’s going to
get the best of you; one day you will surrender to your wolf, and
we’ll all be celebrating fools. Mom and Cindy are already handling
the details.”

Max wasn’t amused. He knew
his pack cared about him the same as he did them; they only wanted
what was best for him. It’d been hard on his mother watching him
flounder around when she’d met and married the love of her life,
his father, within three weeks, and lived happily ever after until
his untimely death a few years ago.

“Just think about it. You’re
only holding off the inevitable when you could be fucking it,”
Donte winked, turning around and nearly unhinging the door to the
stairs as he pushed through it.

Max pinched the bridge of
his nose, inhaling deep. He closed his eyes, his mind immediately
going to Lucy. Today she’d worn a v-neck blouse that dipped just
enough to tease him with the buxom bulge of her breasts barely
being held up by her bra. “Shit,” he cursed, jabbing the down arrow
button as he opened his eyes back to his stark reality without
her.

Chapter 2

Lucy opened the door to her
downtown apartment. It’d been a long day. Max had been restless
most of the week. She sighed, frustrated that she couldn’t help but
notice everything about him. The way his five o’clock shadow really
did appear by five every day; the way his upper lip really did turn
up slightly. And today, what she wouldn’t have done for the chance
to pinch his tight butt in that navy suit. She was dying to dip his
nipples in chocolate sauce, suck and lick them clean while
massaging his rear and rubbing her front to his. God, she was
getting hot just thinking about it.

“Hey girl! How was work?”
Lucy’s best friend and roommate, Gretta, greeted her.

“Egh. It was work,” she
shrugged, kicking off her heels by the door. “What are we doing for
dinner? I’m starving.” Lucy headed straight for the kitchen. Gretta
frowned, promptly following her.

“Uh oh. What restaurant was
it this time?” Gretta pulled out the assortment of take-out menus
they kept in the drawer beside the fridge. It was such a pity to be
privy to a fancy, updated kitchen, yet be such a lousy cook. Lucy
had some cooking skills, but rarely used them.

“Maggeo’s,” Lucy scowled,
recalling the fancy website teasing her with the dishes they
offered. “Tiffany, Max’s girl this week, will probably skip the
pasta for a salad, avoid bread like it’s the devil incarnate, and
cuddle up to him while he downs chicken parmesan, his favorite
Italian dish,” she snarked. It also happened to be the one dish
she’d scoured all of the Google-verse to learn how to perfect. Too
bad Max would never taste it, because there was too much of her to
taste.

Lucy heaved a sigh as she
opened the fridge and pulled out the bag of mini snickers. “Let me
guess, he made you call her and relay the time and place?” Gretta
guessed. Lucy nodded.

“Screw him Luce. Seriously,
I don’t know why the heck you’re so hung up on him.” Lucy’s brows
shot up. “Ok, so he’s a million times better than Brad Pitt, who
has like tripled in age since he got together with bubble lips, but
he’s not worth the pain. That’s all you’re doing is torturing
yourself Lucy. You’re a great girl, and I know that there is a man
out there who would love to grip your curves while he pushes your
cushion,” Gretta beamed, lifting her head to infuse confidence in
the end.

“I know, but I don’t. I
don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to go streaking
down a fashion runway next to twigs, but there’s just something
about him.”

“Luce, it’s been two years
since you even went out on a date while he’s flipping floozies
every damn night. You’re better than that; you deserve better than
that.” Gretta placed her hands on her wide hips, determination set
in her features.

“I know.” Lucy unwrapped
another snickers, stuffing it into her mouth before tossing the
rest of the bag, with all of two pieces left, back into the fridge.
“How does Italian sound?” she asked, shimmying Gretta out of the
way to browse the menus.

“Too close to home. Pick
another country sister.”

“China?”

“Works for me. Let’s go
ditch our pride and put on our moo-moos while we wallow over crappy
men and our lackluster sex lives.”

Lucy laughed. She wouldn’t
be caught dead in a moo-moo; neither would Gretta. Just because
they were plus-size didn’t mean they weren’t fashionable. The fact
that her friend mentioned them showed how concerned she was over
her obsessive compulsive with her boss. In truth, Lucy knew it was
unhealthy, and certainly was doing nothing for her waistline the
way he drove her to chocolate, but he was an addiction she couldn’t
break. There was something about him she couldn’t let go of, though
she wished she could get him to let go of his stigmatism of fat
girls; because she was dying to jump his bones.

***

Max studied his date.
Tiffany was the opposite of Lucy in every way. He liked it that
way; it made her safe for him. Her blonde hair was cropped in a
stylish angled bob, her thin figure dressed in an overly sexy,
shove-my-goods-in-your-face, blue dress while she stuffed her huge
feet into what seemed like twenty-inch heels a size too small. Max
tried not to get frustrated when she only took a few bites of her
food, which was more like grass than sustenance, before deserting
her fork for his arm. If Lucy had been there, she would have
ordered an actual meal; they could have shared dishes over
–

He cut himself off.
Damn it.
The whole point
of Tiffany was to forget about Lucy.

“You ready for dessert
sugar?” Tiffany drawled as she leaned in closer, her breath nearly
knocking him out. Thank God for his sensitive smell… Not. He
stiffened beside her knowing she wasn’t talking about real
dessert.

Digging deep, Max smiled
charmingly as he looked at her. “Only if you are.”

“Oh Max,” she blushed,
grinning broadly. Her smile didn’t light up her face, illuminate
her eyes, the way Lucy’s did though.

Max nearly growled at
himself. This was only getting worse. Instead of forgetting about
Lucy, he was becoming more obsessed. He turned his attention to the
blonde Posh who was trying to mentally calculate how much she could
squeeze out of him over the next month if he stuck around with her.
He didn’t plan to, but she didn’t know that. Plus, he had an itch
to scratch tonight. Maybe if he stuffed a few pillows around her,
he could capture a bit of Lucy. God he was sick.