Page 60 of A Curvy Girl’s Hurricane Survival Guide

“All done with your meeting?” She asks, sitting up.

“Yes, sorry it took so long. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

“Bored? No, not at all, but…” She pulls her knees up to her chest and hides her face slightly behind them.

“What?” I say, suddenly worried.

“I’m sorry to even ask, after everything, but I can’t stop wondering. You have all this. You are amazing and funny and hot and yet…Why would you want me?”

I can see tears in her eyes, and that makes me feel a little guilty as I start to laugh.

“I’m sorry Cai. I really am; I shouldn’t laugh. I was so worried that you would look at this house like some vanity project, think less of me for living in this mausoleum-style home, and decide that I was not good enough for you. I never expected you to wonder why I’d want you here!”

I lean in and grab her hands, wanting to make sure she believes what I tell her next. “Since the moment I met you on the plane, the woman who choked on gum, who took me into her home, who shared her family with me, and did it all while being vulnerable with me, I’ve been gone for you. You’ve made me want to be better. Not richer. Not more successful. Just… better. You make me laugh harder, feel deeper, and dream bigger. You are my favorite story, Cai. The one I want to keep adding to, every day for as long as you let me.”

Cai leans in this time and kisses me, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and desire. The type of kiss you give someone when words just won’t do.

She pulls away and whispers, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Cai,” I say, moving her hand to my chest so she can see how she’s making my heart race. “I wasn’t just being polite; I’m completely smitten.”

Cai lunges forward this time, and the kiss she gives me isn’t sweet or gentle or nice. It’s hungry, and it demands more. A request I am happy to comply with.

I kiss her back with everything I have, hands sliding into her wild curls.

The kiss deepens fast. Her fingers fist in my shirt as I pull her onto my lap. The blanket falls away. My hands roam down her back, over the generous curve of her hips, gripping the softness I’ve been dreaming about for days.

“Cai,” I breathe against her mouth, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She makes a soft, needy sound that echoes straight through me. I tug her shirt up slowly, giving her time to stop me. She doesn’t. The fabric whispers over her head, revealing smooth skin and the most beautiful, full breasts I’ve ever seen. I groan, reverently, and lean in to kiss the swell of them, tasting her, worshiping every inch.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper against her skin. “So fucking perfect.”

Her head falls back with a gasp as my mouth finds her nipple. Her hips roll against me, seeking friction, and I meet her with equal hunger, hands sliding under her leggings to grip the generous curve of her ass.

We are lost in each other; hands exploring, mouths desperate, breaths mingling. When I finally pull back, it is just enough to rest my forehead against hers.

“Not here,” I rasp. “Not for our first time. I want you in my bed. I want to take my time with you.”

Cai’s eyes are dark with desire, lips swollen. She nods, breathless.

I stand, lifting her easily; her legs wrap around me, and she is held against me by her delicious bottom.

She protests and squirms briefly. “You can’t carry me! I’m too big! I’ll squash you!”

“I can think of worse ways to go,” I say.

There is no way I’m going to let her pull my hands away; I dig deep into her cheeks. I carry her upstairs, her laughter mixing with more kisses the whole way.

Rule # 25

IF YOU DON’T LIKE SPICE, YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP THIS ONE

CAI

If anyone were to question me, hand to my heart, I would swear one of my biggest fears was to have anyone carry me. It isn’t just that I am self-conscious about my weight; it’s beyond that. A completely irrational terror that the moment they feel how heavy I really am, they will realize what a mistake they have made.

So it is completely surreal when Sonny not only lifts me with ease but also looks at me like he loves how heavy I am. Everything he does—his looks, his hands, his kiss—is all in appreciation of me.