Page 57 of My Favorite Kidnapper

Dawn was breaking, the sunlight beginning to glimmer. It was supposed to be a better day today, weather-wise. I planned on baking more cookies, wanting to stay busy until the cake supplies arrived.

I began to pull away, and he tightened his grip. “No, stay. Just try not to tempt me with your sexy ways.”

It was my turn to chuckle. “I’m not sexy.”

“Yes, you are. The way you move, the artless mannerisms you have. Your curves. They drive me to distraction.”

“My curves,” I repeated. “How polite.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m aware because I’m short, I’m chubby. Some would say fat. It’s not attractive to most men.”

“I’m not most men. And you’re not fat.”

I shrugged.

He was quiet for a moment. “Is that why you only bought one swimsuit? You’re self-conscious?”

“That was the only one I was comfortable in, yes.”

He flung back the covers and stood. I tried not to ogle him, but I failed. With the sun behind him, he looked like a god. A sexy, intense god.

He pulled me with him and crossed the room, sitting on a wide chair. He pulled me to his lap, so my back was to his chest, and he looped his calves around mine. “Look,” he said.

I directed my gaze to where he pointed, and I grimaced, attempting to turn my head. He grasped my chin. “No. Look, Little Bee. Look with me.”

I met his eyes in the full-length mirror, not wanting to focus on the image of us. He tutted. “Look.”

With a huff of air, I did. He sat behind me, a statue of muscle and power. I was a powder puff.

He put his arm around me, spreading his hand wide on my stomach. “Look how soft you are. How pale and delicate.”

I was pale. He was tanned from years in the sun, a golden hue that set him apart from those who lived in the city. He was healthy and strong.

“You look better.”

“I look different. Not better. I love how you look. Pretty, feminine, your skin like ivory. Except here.” He turned my head and kissed the end of my nose. “The sun got you there. And the longer you’re here, you will be kissed all over by the sun. I look forward to discovering the freckles.”

He turned my head back, entwining our hands and lifting my foot up with his. “All of you is tiny. One of your little hands fits into my palm, yet they are strong and create such delicious art. Your feet are half the size of mine, but I bet they outwalk me every day. Your body suits you perfectly, and whoever says differently is an idiot. Your size doesn’t indicate the strength you carry in here.” He touched my chest. “Bees are small, but they are one of the most industrious creatures on earth. Remember that.”

He moved his hands to my hips. “I love your curves. The roundness here. I can hold you, feel you moving. You have a beautiful shape. Perfect for children. Men stare at you, and you don’t even know it. I love watching you walk toward me, the way your breasts sway slightly, tempting me. When you leave, I watch your hips, imagine them between my hands. I wanted to bite your ass the first time I saw it.” He paused. “In fact, I still do.”

He pushed me forward, lifting me, and bent, biting one cheek. I gasped and started to giggle, and he did the same to the other. The giggles turned into laughter, and he straightened, pulling me back to his chest again.

“You are irresistible. Perfectly curvy. Any man who thinks less, is not the man for you.” He rested his chin on my shoulder. “A real man likes having something to hold when he makes love to a woman. I like your softness. How you feel when I hold you. How you move with me. Not a flat board, but a real woman.”

“Ah,” I whispered.

“I love that you’re short. I feel like a protector beside you. Your petiteness, everything about you makes me feel taller. Bigger. Stronger.”

His words healed something inside me, and I had trouble speaking. “Ah,” I repeated.

“You need to look at yourself and see all the good, Brianna. You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

His intense gaze became sharper. Focused. He slid his hand down, using his legs to part mine, stroking my upper thighs.