Body Worship: The Billionaire and the BBW: Body Heat Series Book 3 (8 page)

“
S
o
, where are you taking me on our first official date?” I motion around me. “I mean, besides to your private jet.”

“Do you not like the jet? Because I’m still trying like hell to impress you.”

“I love the jet.” I struggle to contain my excitement. “No worries about where to park, packing my carry on with tiny bottles of shampoo to make it through security, or getting the middle seat next to some horribly chatty person with bad breath. I don’t know how I’ll ever fly commercial again.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” He twists the cap off a San Pellegrino mineral water and hands it to me. He opens one for himself and we clink glasses before we drink.

“Look at you,” I tease. “Drinking straight out of the bottle like you’re middle class or something.”

“I can get lowbrow with the best of them.”

“I can’t wait to see that.” I lean back in my seat and look out the window. “So, where are we going?”

“Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“The suspense is killing me,” I say.

“Jordan told me your all time favorite meal is a proper lobster roll, so we’re visiting a little place on the coast.”

“She knows me so well.” I tap my feet in excitement. “I’ve never been to Maine before. I bet lobster tastes even better when you can smell the ocean it came from.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“And then . . .”

“And then, the world is our oyster, if you’ll pardon the pun.” I groan loudly. He smiles and continues. “We can have a look around and fly back, or we can hide out somewhere for the night if you want to see the sunset. Our agenda is totally up to you.”

He’s as good as his word, of course. The jet lands and he’s driving us to the coast in short order. Before long, I can see the ocean dotted with boats, and a picturesque red and white lighthouse.

“Here we are,” he says as he pulls in front of a quaint clapboard building and parks the car. I can smell the salty sea air, and the seafood, as soon as I prop open the car door and step outside. Nash walks around the car, takes my hand, and leads me up to the order window.

“Can we sit outside?” I ask after we order.

“It seems like a waste not to, with a day like this.”

I nod in agreement and lead the way out to the bright red picnic tables on the deck overlooking the water. I select the one farthest out and we sit in silence together and listen to the waves crash and wait for them to call our order.

My stomach growls, loudly, just as our food arrives.

“I don’t know where to start.” I survey the food. Once again, he’s gone totally overboard. Lobster rolls, chips, fried clams, a scallop dinner, and baked haddock. “Are we waiting on another couple?” I tease as I survey the feast.

“I know, it’s a little much,” he says. “But it seems like a shame to fly out here and not try everything.” He grabs a fried clam and pops it into his mouth.

“It’s really beautiful,” I say. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiles and hands me my lobster roll. “Because I have to ask you something that I know is going to make you decidedly less happy.”

“Oh God. What is it?”

“I want you to meet my family. And they want to meet you.”

I groan so loudly that other customers turn to look.

“I told you, I’m not society page material. There’s no way it can go well.”

“You’re underestimating yourself. You’ll dazzle them, just like you dazzled me.”

I shake my head as I chew a giant bite of lobster meat. He waits for my answer.

“You have perfect timing, because you know I can’t say no after a day like this. Even though the thought of meeting your parents makes me want to jump in the ocean and start swimming out to sea.”

His smile is almost worth the agony I know I’m in for.

We make impressive work of the food and each polish off a second beer, as well.

“Do you mind if we check out the main drag?” I motion to the seaside street that looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

“Let’s do it,” he says.

We explore the eclectic mix of businesses: a pottery shop, a tattoo parlor, seaside souvenir hawkers, several upscale art galleries, and an antique store. When we run out of shops to visit, we cross the road to the public beach and stroll along the shore as the sun sets.

“Okay,” I say. “This is hands down the best date I’ve ever been on. And I’m not ready for it to end. I don’t suppose you have a second home here, or anything like that.”

“Sadly, no.” He stands and brushes the sand from his legs. “But I know there are a few hotels up the road. We can snag something for the night.”

“Perfect.” He kisses me on the way back to the car and I can’t help thinking how everything really is perfect, for the first time in my life.

I
wasn’t expecting
grand boarding on short notice, but of course he comes up with something perfect and elegant. A boutique bed and breakfast one block from the ocean. Our room has a perfect view, along with an enormous bed I plan on taking advantage of.

Turns out he has the same idea.

His hands are on me the moment we closed the door. Caressing my back and my hips and kneading my ass. I unbutton his shirt and nuzzle my face in his soft chest hair, inhaling his clean masculine scent. I kiss along the thick slabs of muscle there and take his nipples into my mouth and nibble them. He gasps and continues undressing me.

We stumble to the bed together. He pulls off my jeans and makes short work of my bra. I fumble with the buckle on his pants, eager to get at the prize inside. He pushes me back on the bed and I giggle.

“Get on all fours,” he commands as he strips off his pants. His giant cock bobs free and slaps tight against his navel. I feel my mouth start to water.

“I better not have to tell you again,” he teases as he fists his hard on and starts stroking.

“Well, then.” I crawl to the middle of the bed and turn so that my ass is facing him. I glance over my shoulder and meet his intense gaze.

“Spread your legs.” He climbs onto the mattress; I feel it dip. I move my knees farther apart.

My breath is shaky. He’s hardly touched me and I’m already so wet for him; I can feel it on the inside of my thighs.

He places his warm hands on my ass and I arch against him, eager for his touch. He pushes my cheeks apart and I brace for his cock as he spreads me. But it’s his tongue that touches me in my secret place, with long slow licks that run the entire length of my pussy.

“Fuck, you taste so amazing.” He moans as he takes my swollen lips into his mouth and sucks, and I can feel the vibrations on my sex.

“It’s so good, baby, please don’t stop.” My voice is muffled by the sheets but he gets the message. He spreads my puffy labia with his thumbs and presses his face against me, licking furiously against my sensitive clit. I jerk every time he makes contact and he wraps his strong arms around my lower back and hugs my ass to his face like a vise.

“Suck on my clit, suck on it,” I beg. He takes the little nub into his mouth and sucks with all his strength. Electric shocks of pleasure course through me and I collapse onto the bed. But he’s not done with me yet.

His hands spread my ass apart again and his tongue strokes the puckered opening between my cheeks. He runs the flat of his tongue over it in a gentle motion, and then switches to swirling with the tip of his tongue. I grab the duvet in my fists and focus on keeping my hips flat on the bed, when all I want to do is push back against his talented tongue.

He forces his tongue into my tight rosette and my eyes roll back into my head. I lose control and buck against his face. And then he pulls away.

“Where did you go?” I look over my shoulder with a mischievous smile.

He chuckles. “I think you’re ready for me.” I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him so aroused. His cock is an angry red color and I can see every vein on his perfect hard-on. I roll onto my back and spread my legs for him. He kneels between them and slaps my pussy with his heavy length.

“Do you like that, my naughty girl?” His voice is raspy, like the sexiest sandpaper.

“You know I do.”

He shifts his weight and runs the underside of his cock against my pussy, nudging my clit with the head of his cock with each stroke.

“How about this?”

“God, yes!”

“More than you liked my tongue up your tight asshole?” I can’t hold back a moan.

He leans forward, stretching himself over me, supporting his weight on his elbows. He leans down to kiss me.

“Please,” I whisper. “I need your cock.”

He reaches down with one hand and guides himself to my opening. I lift my face to his and kiss him with everything I have. He eases inside me as our mouths are locked together. I wrap my arms and legs around him as his balls bump against my ass and I squeeze him inside of me.

He breaks free of my kiss and lets out a strangled cry.

“Was that not good?”

“It’s great - if you want me to come in under 30 seconds.” I relax against him then, and he pumps in and out of me. He stretches me with every delicious stroke, and adds a mind blowing hip swivel that bumps his pubic bone against my clit every time he’s deep.

I hold out as long as I can, stroking his thick biceps, his muscular back, and his toned torso. When I sense he’s as close as I am, I slide my hands down to his clenching ass and pull him deeper with each stroke. The tingling deep in my hips between my thighs explodes throughout my body. He cries out and holds himself deep inside as my pussy milks every drop of cum from his magnificent body.

N
ormal families have Sunday dinners
. Mine has strategy sessions.

Once a month, my siblings and I meet at my parents’ compound. All the staff is given the day off and my mother actually cooks, but it’s only because they don’t want outsiders around for their scheming.

I’m sure my parents started out as good people. But somewhere along the way, they morphed into King Henry VIII and Ann Boleyn, and now nobody is safe. Power went to their heads and they rotted from the inside out.

People think my childhood must have been fantastic; it was really like being raised by a pack of wolves. And now I’m bringing Evie into their den. I’m crazy about her and I want them to know there’s someone good in my life, but the instant we walk inside I know I’ve made a horrible mistake.

“Evelyn,” my mother says as she extends her hand, “lovely to meet you.” I know it’s a damn lie from the condescending fake smile plastered on her face and I start to sweat. She motions for us to take our seats around the table.

“Evelyn, you don’t know how excited Nash’s father and I were to hear of your existence. I keep telling Nash, he’s over 30 years old and it’s time to get married. People are going to think you’re light in the loafers.” My mother doesn’t even look at me while she talks. She pauses to takes a generous slug of red wine and I know that before the meals over, she’ll be half in the bag and saying things even more hurtful. “Plus, his father and I want grandchildren before we have one foot in the grave. And you’ll need us around if you want your kids to have a prayer of getting into St. Edward’s Academy.”

“Are things really getting serious between you two?” My father taps his cigar on the table before he lights it. Evie chokes on her water and I admire her restraint in avoiding a spit-take.

“Not as serious as I would like.” I give Evie a knowing look. “She wants to take things slow.”

“What’s the problem, Evelyn?” He lifts it to his mouth and puffs.

“I’ve never been one for the limelight,” she says. Mother’s cackle fills the cavernous dining room.

“Well, to be honest, dear, I can’t see things working out if that’s the case. Maybe there’s someone out there more,” she pauses as she searches for the right word, “appropriate for my son.” My mother turns her ice gray eyes to me. “I was just talking to Marie Lewis and her daughter Samantha is coming back from a summer in Europe. She’s a smart girl with social graces. Who’s entirely comfortable in the spotlight.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I raise my voice. “I’m sitting here with my girlfriend, so obviously I’m not interested.”

“I’ll put out a few more feelers,” she says.

“No you won’t.” I say it with more force than I mean to. “I’m seeing someone fantastic and I don’t want to hear anything else about it. My choices are my own to make.”

Now it’s my father’s turn to laugh.

“Son, my great grandfather didn’t work himself into an early grave so that his descendants could fritter away the family fortune and tarnish our good name. You have a responsibility to us. And let’s be honest, no offense miss, Manning men don’t marry women who look like their secretaries.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I rise to my feet. “Evie, we’re leaving. I won’t have anyone talk to you like that.”

Evie stands and I can tell she’s blinking back tears. “I appreciate your honesty. And in return, I’ll offer some of my own.” She gathers her handbag and prepares to leave. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met a group of people so unpleasant. I guess it’s true what they say: money can’t buy class.”

My mother’s mouth hangs open in shock and I’m proud of her for doing what I’ve always struggled with: standing up for myself.

“Wait for me outside?” I whisper in her ear. Because I’m not through with my family yet. Not by a long shot.

“You know, I’ve always put this family first. But that’s over now. I need to take care of myself first.”

“We understand that you have needs, son. And that’s why your mother and I have indulged in your ‘work’ at the Veteran’s Service Center.” My father actually makes air quotes when he says the word work and I feel anger welling up deep within me.

“You should come visit there sometime, Dad. You’d get a chance to see what real work looks like when you meet some of these soldiers.”

“Watch your tone.” My mother pours another glass of wine.

“Is there no limit to what you’ll try to get me to do in the name of family? Marry a woman I don’t love? Send me overseas into the line of fire? Now funnel me into a job I’d hate?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Mother says. “Arranged marriages work all the time. It’s how it’s always been done for royalty. And we’re American royalty.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want any part of it.”

“It’s too late for that,” she points out. “You’ve helped us in your own way; your service overseas did miracles for your father’s career. Respect for him skyrocketed when they realized his son was a Navy Seal.”

“It’s too bad it was classified when I was captured with three of my guys. That would have really drummed up extra support.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You came back in one piece.”

I slam my silverware down on the table. “That’s really what you think? I have all my fingers and toes so everything was ok? Have you just erased my time in the ward from your memory?”

“Certainly not.” My mother looks at me with raised eyebrows. “You’ll never know how hard we had to work to keep that under wraps. Having a son who’s a Navy Seal is impressive. When he cracks under the pressure, it’s not.”

It’s too much. I knock over my glass in my rush to get up from the table.

“I didn’t crack under the pressure. I broke into a million pieces. But I’m finally picking them all up and putting them back together. And I met someone great who’s helping me. And I’m done living under your thumb.”

My chair slams to the floor when I back up from the table, and it echoes when I slam the front door.