The Billionaire's BBW Secret (5 page)

As much as she wanted to explore
further inside the bowels of the apartment, Denny stayed where she was, only
venturing far enough in to sit on the very edge of the couch.  Like with the Lambo,
she was afraid of damaging or destroying something in the apartment.  She
didn't want to give Larson any reason at all to discipline her, or even fire
her.

She nearly jumped a foot when she
saw him walk around the corner.  She stifled a scream, but it wasn't enough. 
Larson's lips curled upwards in a smile when he saw her shock and fright.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,”
he said.  He was dressed in a burgundy robe, tied around the middle, and
holding not one but two glasses of red wine.

“No, no, it's quite all right,”
Denny said, breathing heavily.  Her fingers dug into the edge of the couch. 
Why did he have two glasses?  Did he have company?  “It's just that I wasn't
expecting you until seven.”

“Ah.”  He took a slow drink of wine
out of one of the glasses.  “My little meeting ended a little earlier than I
presumed, so I thought I might give you a little surprise.”

Denny swallowed.  “Surprise, sir?”

He laughed.  “Call me Bran. 
Here.”  In half a dozen steps he crossed the expansive room and thrust the
other glass in her surprised hands.

“Si- um, Bran?” Denny said blankly,
staring down at the glass.

“Yes?”

“Y-you said you have a favor to
request of me,” she continued, taking long, slow breaths, trying to calm
herself.

“Oh yes, that.  I wanted you to try
this wine.  I hand picked it for a charity dinner, but I'm not sure the bouquet
is quite right.”  After he said that, he dipped his nose in the glass and took
in a great breath, smelling the wine.  Denny followed suit, but she wasn't
certain at all what to say.  She had next to no experience with wine, and she
couldn't even begin to guess why Larson wanted her opinion.

“Ah,” he exhaled.  “A hint of
cherry, with jammy undertones.  Don't you agree?”

“It – I suppose so.”  If anything,
it smelled off to her.

“You don't think so?”

“It smells like feet,” she
admitted.  She didn't have anything to lose with him, after all.

He laughed at that, and set the
glass down.  “You're right.  Maybe it needs to breathe a bit.”  He strode over
and sat down next to her on the couch.  Denny's eyes widened ever so slowly,
and her hands grasped the smooth leather even more tightly.  He was so close. 
Why was he sitting so close?

Of course, she knew why.  Rather,
she suspected.  As his hand drifted over hers, her thought grew into more than
just a suspicion.

“Perhaps it's just the drink,” he
said mildly, “but you look ravishing tonight.”

“Just the drink?” Denny said
skeptically.  “Are you drunk?”

“Oh, no, no,” Branson laughed,
letting his fingers drift along her arm now, sending shivers up her spine.  She
wanted him, oh she wanted him, but she didn't even know if he wanted her.  She
just wasn't certain.  “Just a glass.  Just enough to make me bold enough to say
the things I've been thinking all week.”

“What, sir?” Denny said faintly. 
She felt light-headed and dizzy all of a sudden.

“I told you, call me Bran,” he
said.  “And you know what I mean.”

“I – I'm not sure that I do,” she
said.  Everything seemed so surreal to her right now, as if she was
underwater.  Bran's face swam in her vision.

“I've been watching you all week,
my dear.  And I must admit, I hired you under somewhat false pretenses.”

“You did?”  Denny's own voice
seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.

“You're skilled it's true.  But I
hired you because you're the loveliest creature I've ever set eyes on.”

“Me?” Denny squeaked and leaned
backwards slightly.  Not her, not chubby, tubby Denny.  Larson was supposed to
get the most beautiful, gorgeous women.  He could have anyone he wished, and he
chose to pursue
her
?

That did it.  Denny's vision grayed
around the edges, and for a moment, she lost her balance on the couch.  Not for
long, but just long enough to send her toppling off the side of the armless
couch and onto the ebony floor.

At least, that's what would have
happened if Bran, quick as a flash, didn't dash out and grasp her around the
waist, and haul her back upright.  She stood now, held firm in his hot embrace,
gasping and flushed by the sudden reveal and revelation.

“But si- Bran,” she said, looking
up into those sapphire eyes that burned with a fierce passion now.  “I thought
– the woman -”

“Yes, yes, those stick thin coat
hangers who would call themselves women.  You wonder why I surround myself with
them?”  He growled and gripped his arms around her more tightly, not letting
go.  “They are for nothing more than maintaining appearances.  I have a certain
image that I need to maintain, but I would never do anything with those
girls.”  He spat the last words out like it was the most offensive garbage. 
“But you... oh God, you, with those beautiful curves, those breasts, teasing me
day in and day out with your gorgeousness...” he trailed off with a groan, and
Denny flushed hotly.

Was that truly how he saw her?  She
wanted to believe.  She looked up at him again, looking past the broad jaw, the
well-defined cheek bones and strong nose, past the tousled sandy hair that straggled
over his brow, and stared directly into his eyes.  They burned with a
fierceness, a passion, but most of all a truth.  He wanted her.  All her
suspicions had been right.  He wanted her.

Unable to control herself, she
tipped her head back and raised her body up.  Sensing her intentions, Bran
pulled her even tighter, dipping his own head, his lips meeting hers.

They kissed.

It was like fireworks.  Sparks
exploded in Denny's mind as his hot lips connected with hers.  She opened her
mouth slightly, inviting him to have even more of her, and he took that
invitation.  His tongue probed inward, brushing against her teeth, meeting her
own tongue.

That kiss had to come to an end at
some point, and it when they did pull away Denny gasped, her mind still reeling. 
This couldn't be happening.  Not in her wildest fantasy would a thing like this
even happen.  A man like Bran should never ever give her a second glance, yet
here she was, in his arms.

It was a dream come true.

“Why me?” she asked, breathless.

“Because, I told you,” Bran said,
looking down at her.  “You are beautiful, and I must possess you.  I want you,
so I must have you.”

“Wait a minute.”  Denny pulled
away.  “I am not just some prize to be won.  You might like this,” she gestured
at her plump body as she spoke, “but there's also this.”  Her finger led Bran's
gaze upwards, and she pointed it at her head now.

“Ah, of course,” he stammered, and
for once it was him off-kilter, not her.  “It's more than just your body that
attracts me.”

Denny smirked.  “With all due
respect sir, you barely even know me.”

He smiled that disarming smile of
his, and Denny supposed he was counting on it to help him climb out of the hole
he'd dug.  “But I'd like to know you.”

“Good.”  She sat down, and lifted
her wine glass up off the table.  “Let's talk, then.”

At first, Bran gave her a look of
disbelief, but then he sighed ad retrieved his own glass.  “You are an
intriguing woman, Ms. Richardson.”

Now a smile played around the
corners of Denny's mouth.  “That's what I aim to be.”

“Well,” he leaned back on the couch
as he sat down again, still close to her, but not touching.  “What do you want
to know?”

“Everything your public profile
doesn't say,” Denny said, taking a sip of the burgundy liquid.  It tasted much
better than it smelled.

“That's a tall order.”

“I have time.”

So they talked late into the night,
about anything and everything.  Denny learned about Bran's parents, how harsh
they were to him, how hard they pushed him.  She learned that he was a minor
chess prodigy as a child and still somewhat famous for it, and that he got
straight As in every single class right through high school.  She learned how
and why he dropped out of college his freshman year, the very first semester,
to start his first online empire.

“My parents pushed me so hard that
the moment I was out of their influence, I ran and never came back,” he said as
they finished their second bottle of wine.  Denny felt pleasantly dizzy at that
point, and hung on Bran's every word.

“And what about you?” he asked,
leaning forward.  “What about your parents?”

Denny swallowed, collecting her
thoughts.  “They were similar to yours.  Always pushing me, but I never
measured up.  I always struggled with everything that came so easily to my
sister Michelle.  She was the one who's thin and beautiful and smart and
successful.  I've always been her little sister, her fat shadow.”  She shrugged
and stared down into her near empty wine glass now, feeling misty-eyed and
oddly wistful.

But Bran refilled her glass and
pulled her out of that introspection.  He asked her in turn about everything he
could think of, from her childhood to college, to her softball days and her
work career.  He learned about Rob, and the horrible things that man had done
to her.

“I don't hate him for it,” she
admitted.  “On some level, I guess I can understand why he did the things he
did.”

“How can you say that?”

“We were never a good fit.  I think
he always felt like he'd settled.  He wasn't happy.”

“But what about you?”

“I...” she paused, and for once really
thought about the entire relationship, the wedding and the marriage.  “I was
happy.  I thought I was really lucky to have found a man like him.”

“Do you think you'll ever find
anyone like him again?”

She looked up at Bran shyly now. 
All through the evening, late into the night, she could feel herself growing
more and more attracted to him, and not just for his handsomeness or charisma. 
He was smart, so smart, and so driven.  He was everything that she wanted to
be, and everything she looked for in a mate.  “I think I may have,” she said,
letting her hair that she'd pulled out of that bun hours ago fall across her
face.

Bran smiled, and she returned that
smile as he brushed those stray strands of hair away.   “And where is this
man?” he asking in a smiling, teasing tone.

“Right here.”  That said, she
leaned forward, and they kissed again.  This was a softer kiss, though it
quickly grew passionate.  The room spun about as Bran lifted his body off the
couch and straddled her, kissing her, his roaming hands caressing her Rubenusque
figure.  He moaned into her mouth, slight gasping exhalations as he explored.

“God,” he said when he finally
pulled away.  “I've never been with a woman like you before.”

Denny smiled widely at that. 
“You've got that right.”

Suddenly, he was on her again, his
arms snaking around her thick waist, his hands groping and pulling at her
business shirt.  Those roaming hands slipped even lower, grabbing at her
expansive ass now.  Denny was all curves, and Bran appeared to be loving every
inch of those curves.

He pulled on her, urging her to
stand.  She stumbled a bit as she rose, the wine still affecting her sense of
balance, but she didn't fall.  Instead, she leaned against him, letting him
support her.

“Are you ready to see just how much
I want you?” he said as he dipped his head, breathing hotly onto her ear.  Denny
felt a nervous shudder roll up her body at those words.  Bran might love her
clothed, but would he feel the same way about her when she was naked?  She
wasn't certain.

She thought about it for a few
moments, pondering the consequences briefly.  If he didn't like her, she
wouldn't be any worse off than she'd been before, and if he did, oh God, if he
did...

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. 
“I do,” she said, and Bran looked down at her knowingly, lustfully, and then
led her to his bedroom.

The hall was dark, and flanked with
windows.  Denny looked out at the dark skyline of the city as Bran pulled her
along, still scarcely able to grasp how she'd gotten into this situation.  She
was the luckiest girl in the world.

Bran opened a door at the end of
the hallway, past many other doors, and then stood by it and swung out an arm,
inviting her into the dark room.  “Welcome to my lair,” he said lowly, though
he grinned as he spoke.

Denny giggled and scurried past
him, and he slapped her playfully on her curvaceous ass.  Her giggle turned
into a squeal and she pranced forward, nearly stumbling over the carpet that
was right by the entrance of the door.  She could barely see anything in here.

Bran chuckled and slipped inside
behind her, then slowly turned on the lights.  They were on a dimmer, and he
didn't boost them to full power.  They bathed the huge master bedroom in a warm
light, sending a low golden glow to everything they touched.

Denny gazed around for a few
moments, taking in the room.  It was so expensive, so tasteful, and so modern. 
Like the living room, it was all lines and angles, in rich earthy tones with an
occasional splash of red by way of abstract paintings on the walls.  It was
exactly like Bran; precise, but oh so sexy.

Stepping past her, Bran turned
around and pressed her against the wall.  The heat of his body was like a
furnace against her skin, and his eyes burned with the same intensity.

“I want you,” he growled.  “You are
the sexiest creature I ever laid eyes on.”

Denny writhed under his grip, for
the first time feeling every bit the sex goddess that Bran called her.  She
couldn't believe he was having this effect on her, but he was.  It was another
of his many talents, she supposed.  She looked up at him in what she hoped was
a seductive manner and he looked down at her.  It worked.  He growled again and
dipped his head, kissing her passionately.