Lacy Bonds (Veronica's Tale)(Curvy Maids 3): (A Billionaire, BDSM, BBW naughty romance) (2 page)

Zera frowned, pursing her lips, her fingers drumming on the Blake's file. “Why?”

“Because I'm not looking to fall in love. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, are you and Frank still together?”

My back straightened. “What does that mean?” Frank may aggravate me sometimes, but he could be sweet. And I loved him. That's why I've supported him since we were nineteen. I would be throwing away the last five years.

Zera grew flustered, her words tripping on each other. “Sorry...I didn't mean...I just thought...with how...well...okay. I guess I can see why you might choose Blake then. But if he does anything you don't like, call me and I'll find someone else.”

“Sure. Let's do it.”

Zera pushed a button on her phone and a moment later Melissa answered, “Yes, Miss Alexandra?”

“Can you get Blake Marsden on the phone. I have a candidate for him.”

It took a few minutes. Finally, Melisa connected us to Blake's secretary. “Hold for Mr. Marsden,” the secretary said in a brisk voice.

“Hello, Alexandra,” Blake Marsden said after the phone beeped a few times. His voice was deep, but he had a catch, like something had broken inside him.

“Hello, Mr. Marsden,” Zera said. “I think I found a candidate for you. If you're still interested in having a curvy maid.”

After a long pause, he answered, “I am. Yes. What is her name?”

“Veronica. She's a very—”

“Have her come at my apartment at three tomorrow. I'll have my secretary send over the key.”

“But don't you want to—”

“Have a nice day, Miss Alexandra.” He hung up.

Zera was a little flustered. “So, as you can see, he's a very...driven man. I'm told he was much more polite before his wife died.”

“He's drowning in pain,” I whispered. He reminded me of my father after my mom passed away. The dead voice, the brusque manner.

“Are you sure you want to work for him? I know there's a better candidate in here.”

“No. He's perfect.” I couldn't fall in love with a man who was dead inside.

“Okay.” She pushed a button on her phone. “Melissa.”

“Yes, Miss Alexandra?”

“Ready the limo.”

“Right away.”

“Oh, I thought we might talk more,” I said. It had been weeks since I had hung out with Zera. “But...I guess your busy.”

“What?” Zera frowned. “Oh, right. No, we have to get your uniform. Then I know this great bistro we can eat dinner at.”

“Mr. Draven's out of town?”

“Working late,” she sighed. “He's buying some company that makes some revolutionary circuit.”

Melissa joined us on the elevator ride down, clutching a satchel. The limo driver was just as friendly the second time, holding the door for the three of us. “This is so exciting,” I said as the limo pulled away.

“Yeah,” Zera shrugged. I guess you could grow used to this.

Melissa was even less excited. She had pulled a laptop out and was typing away.

“So where are we going?”

“Costume Delights,” Zera answered. “I have an account there to make our uniforms. I started out buying them at those big, Halloween box stores. Besides none being open this time of year, it was hard to find quality outfits. Most are just these cheap Halloween costumes made of plastic or vinyl. But you will be cleaning in them, so you need something that's durable while still being sexy.”

I blushed.

Zera laughed, pinching my cheek. “Mr. Marsden is going to love your sexy curves.”

“Really?” I said. “Why would a billionaire want a...plus size girl like me?”

“Because a guy wants some meat on his steak. Those skinny girls are all bony.” Zera beamed. “Trust me. You'll look so sexy and irresistible once Molly is done with you.”

Molly turned out to be an old woman with wispy-white hair. “She's a cute one,” Molly declared as she ushered me into the back room of her small costume shop. “Now strip.”

She was a bossy broad, so I didn't argue, pulling off the shirt I threw on after work.

It was embarrassing standing in my bra and panties as Molly's cold, bony fingers ran the cloth tape across all parts of my body. Zera smiled at me as she sat on a chair, playing around on her smart phone.

“You have a nice figure, girl,” Molly said, her voice crackling like dry leaves. “Padding in all the right places. And your tits.”

I gasped as she hefted one.

“Nice and pliant. You're a lucky girl.” She smacked my hip. “Look at these wide hips, Zera. A nice set of birthing hips.”

“Yes, she is lovely,” Zera agreed.

I felt like a broodmare being inspected before being taken to the stud.

“I have just the one in stock,” the old seamstress said when she finished. “I can get the other four to you in two days. For the rushed price.”

Zera nodded. “Thanks, Molly.”

Molly grinned at me, pinching my cheek. “All the other curvy gals are so happy. I bet you will be too.”

“Oh, thanks,” I said.

“We also have to get you some better underwear,” Zera decided, her eyes flicking down to what I was wearing. “Something classier. Blake will love to see you in some sexy panties. It was one of his requests. Bikini cut, silk or satin.”

“I'm not getting naked,” I gasped. “I thought this was just strutting around half naked, not fully naked.”

“It is,” Zera nodded. “If you're not comfortable submitting to that request, you don't have to...”

But he might not keep me on if I don't. Well, that would be the line. If I get naked, that's cheating on Frank.

“At the very least, he might catch a flash of your panties, so lets get something sexier than granny panties.”

I blushed, looking down at the plain panties I bought in a pack of eight from Walmart. “Yeah. That's fine. What about bras?”

“The uniform will give you support,” Molly answered, walking back in with my maid's uniform. “So unhook your bra and try this on.”

My cheeks blushed as they both watched me with these clinical expressions. I unhooked my bra, my large breasts jiggling as I dropped it down. The air was cold, and I was so embarrassed to see my nipples were hardening. I quickly grabbed the outfit and pulled it on.

It was sleeveless and low-cut, the black bodice was trimmed in half-inch lace, my breasts pushed up so they seemed about to overflow the top. Every time I stepped, they jiggled. It was tight, hugging my hips, then the skirt fell to my upper thigh, a few petticoats beneath to give some volume, the lacy bottoms peaked out.

The uniformed transformed me from my usual, dumpy self to a gorgeous, sexy lady. I smiled, my hips shifting as I saw how beautiful I had become. There was a lot of me to love, and the uniform perfected my figure.

“Wonderful,” Molly clapped. “You will break his heart, girl. He will not know what to do with you.”

“Yes, she is lovely,” Zera beamed, giving me a friendly hug.

“Thanks, Zera,” I said, a tear misting my eyes. “You are a great friend.”

“I took that job with Zera,” I told Frank the next day. He woke up around one in the afternoon. Not even my vacuuming woke up him.

He went out to “practice” with his band and come home drunk in the middle of the night.

“What job?” Frank asked as he stumbled to the kitchen.

“I'm working as a maid now.”

“Oh, right. For the billionaires.” He poured himself a bowl of cereal. “Cool, babe. How's the pay?”

“A lot better.”

“Good to hear,” he grinned, booting up his video game console. “So you quit the grocery job?”

“Yep.” I was wearing my long, beige coat over the scandalous maid's uniform. I felt a little guilty and didn't want Frank to see it. “Well, I'm off.”

“Cool, babe.” He didn't even look at me. I bet I could have worn the outfit and danced in front of him, and he wouldn't even have noticed me. I couldn't remember the last time he had paid any real attention.

And I wasn't counting him being drunk and horny, and pawing me in the middle of the night.

I was nervous on the bus ride across Seattle to Blake's apartment. I reminded myself that I would make more in one hour than I would working eight at the Quality Goods. And this was easy work. It was just cleaning an apartment.

While dressed in a slutty, Halloween outfit.

While a horny billionaire watched me and would, no doubt, try to get me to undress.

Blake's building was modern, the lobby austere and minimalistic. It lacked heart. I strode through, wrapped in my long coat, so aware of what I was wearing beneath it. I reached the elevator and went up to the nineteenth floor.

The elevator dinged, and I climbed out, my hands sweaty as I fished in my purse for the key. I hadn't put it on my key ring and I couldn't find it as I dug through my purse. Why did I have so much junk in here? Hand-wipes, tampons, hard candy, a balled up piece of paper, receipts, my hair brush, far too many tubes of lipstick, loose change, pieces of gum. I really needed to clean my purse out.

Did I leave the key at home?

My digging became more frantic. And then I spotted a flash of silver. I dug in, fished it out, and sighed for relief. I unlocked the door and slipped in. The condo was open, the the kitchen, dining room, and living room connected. A short hallway led back to his bedroom. He had a corner condo, and his large windows had a magnificent view of the Puget Sound.

“That will never do.”

I jumped, letting out a squeak. Blake stood in the hallway to his bedroom wearing only pajama bottoms, his muscular chest tan, a white scar running across his rock-hard abs and around his side. He was tall, dark-haired, his chin strong. He was gorgeous. I shivered as his gray-blue eyes watched me. They seemed...dead, and then something flickered for a moment, a spark of life.

My heart ached to heal his pain, to soothe away his hurt. It was so obvious that he missed his wife. I...pushed down my feelings. I wasn't here to get emotional. I was here to work.

“Hi. I'm Veronica, your curvy maid.”

“And wearing such a boring coat.” He shook his head, more life stirring in his eyes.

“Oh, right,” I laughed, reaching down to unknot the belt, then letting the beige coat slip off my shoulders. “It's a chilly day out there.”

“Of course. We would not want this beautiful body to suffer.
Vous êtes juste une belle orchidée.”

I blinked at the French. I had no idea what he said, but he sounded so sexy when he said it.

“You are quite the radiant orchid. Just blossoming.” His grin deepened, his eyes coming to life and devouring me. “Turn around.”

I turned before I realized it, wanting to obey this sexy man. Heat was gathering inside me, fueled by his eyes, his voice, and his gorgeous body. I thought Frank was—

Right. I love Frank.

“Ma belle orchidée,”
he breathed. “I need to see more of your beauty.” He picked up an apron, frilly and white. “I would like you to wear this.”

“Okay,” I smiled, reaching out to grab it.

“Only this.” He reached out, caressing my cheek. “Strip. Let your radiance fully bloom.”

I wanted to obey him. I wanted to let his hungry eyes devour all I offered. It would be so easy. No man had ever stirred such desire in me. This was a mistake. I couldn't stay here. But I didn't want to leave. His eyes found me beautiful.

They were alive now, more blue than gray.

“Peel off those clothes. Unveil your beauty,
ma belle orchidée.”
My cheek burned beneath his caressing fingers, and a gorgeous smile grew on his face. My knees trembled. His excitement grew, pressing against the front of his dark-blue pajama bottoms.

My hands drifted on their on to the lacings of my uniform, wanting to obey this man. It would be so wonderful to submit and let him take care of me. To let him love me while I mended his heart and—

Remember you love Frank.

“Mr. Marsden, I am here to clean for you, not strip,” I said with as much force as I could muster before his intensity. I almost trembled. “If you want a stripper, go to a strip club.”

He blinked, his smile slipping. “Very well, Miss Veronica. You are quite correct. A lovely flower shouldn't sully herself.” The hunger in his eyes seemed to deepen. “Please, clean. Let me observe your work. My wife...” Some of the pain returned. “She was always so beautiful.
Ma belle tulipe.”

“Okay, Mr. Marsden,” I said, my heart breaking. “Where are your cleaning supplies.”

I felt so self-conscious as I gathered the cleaning supplies. His eyes fixed on me, drinking me in with a desperate longing; I wanted to fall into their depths. He was just seeing his wife, not me. That's why I agreed to work for him. It wasn't me he was really excited for. I wouldn't let him seduce me away from Frank.

Even if Frank is sitting at home eating cereal and playing video games.

As I cleaned, my nerves relaxed and I became exciting. I had the confidence to show off my plump body. I would bend over, teasing him with the possibility of seeing my panties, his chest heaving with excitement. I would let him ogle my cleavage, wondering if I took in a deep enough breath if I would have a wardrobe malfunction.

Such naughty possibilities filled me. I couldn't believe how I was acting. It was so wrong. It made me feel so wonderfully bad. An itch grew in my nethers, growing like a fanned coal. Moisture trickled as desire burned.

Fantasy of stripping bare for him and seeing his wonderful excitement drifted through my mind. It wasn't cheating to be almost naked. The apron would cover some of my flesh. And it's not like I would touch him. I stood on a cliff, the edge crumbling, and a weird, almost self-destructive part of me wanted to fall over the edge and see what would happen.

Then he disappeared.

I blinked, stopping the shake in my hips as I mopped his kitchen floor. Where had he went? Had I bored him? An anxious twist filled my guts. I took a deep breath, calming myself down. This was going too far. Remember who you love. Remember Frank.

Remember Mr. Marsden's gorgeous body.

I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. The heady, pine-scented cleaner made me light-headed.

“You are stunning,” Mr. Marsden purred, stepping into the living room, a coil of rope in his hands.

I swallowed, eyeing the beige rope. Zera and Issy both gushed over the excitement of being tied up. How helpless and vulnerable you felt and how much it made you yearn to trust your Master. The satisfaction you received when your trust was rewarded with such amazing pleasures.

“Mr. Draven takes me to the limits that I didn't know I had. He pushes me and I trust him to hold me the entire way.” Zera's eyes always grew so mushy when she spoke about her fiance.

I had never trusted a man that much.

“What are you doing, Mr. Marsden?” I swallowed.

“Your beauty is so wild,” he said, his words dripping like honey. “It needs to be tamed. Let me transform your beauty, sculpting you like the gardener sculpts a topiary.”

I shivered at the memory of seeing beautiful hedges shaped into fantastical creatures.

The coals in my panties flared hot. He was so strong. So powerful. I could submit to his hunger. I could let him master me and...

“I do not think that's appropriate,” I firmly told him. “I'm not taking off my clothes.”

He took a step closer. “You do not have to.” He caressed the ropes. “I want to see you bound in that perfect outfit.”

I bit my lip, my will weakening. “Is this about your wife?”

Pain entered his eyes. His hands fell. “You are right. I'm projecting again.”

He retreated out of the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. My hands went to my heart. I wanted to mend his heart and help him live again. His Cosette must have been such a lucky woman to have this man. He loved her so much to be grieving her loss this bad.

Would Frank grieve for me this much?

I grabbed the mop, my hands shaking. I tried to keep cleaning. But my heart wouldn't let me.

Mr. Marsden needed someone to talk to. He needed someone to help him with his pain.

I could be his friend. Just his friend.

I took a deep breath, adjusting my skirts, then walked to his bedroom. My heart grew heavy as I approached his door. I paused, raising my hand to rap. Was this a mistake? Would he just send me away? I had walked out on my cashier job. I couldn't lose this.

I knocked.

There was a long pause. I clutched my hands to my breast, trembling. Shadows moved through the small gap between the door and the floor. It opened. His face was a raw wound for a moment, then a mask came up, burying the pain.

“Yes, Miss Veronica?”

“A-are you...okay?”

“I'm fine.” He began to close the door.

I caught it with my hand. “Please, Sir, what's wrong? I didn't mean to hurt you. I just...I've never been tied up before. And, well, I have...” I couldn't make myself say boyfriend. “...trust issues.”

“You didn't hurt me. Go back to your work.”

“Are you sure. It might help to talk about it.”

He studied me for a long moment. “Perhaps it would.”

He backed away from the door, sinking down on his bed. The rope lay beside him. I gingerly sat down beside him, feeling so strange sitting on another man's bad, so close to his muscular body. The pause hung in the air between us.

I needed to say something.

“You miss her a lot, don't you?” I winced. Was that the right thing to say.

“I do. So much. If I hadn't...” He trailed off, voice thick with self-loathing. “She was so alive. A beautiful, vibrant creature. She made me better.” He let out a laugh. “She had such fire.”

“She sounds lovely. I'm so sorry you lost her.”

He nodded. “I learned French for her. That's where we met. I visited France after college and I knew when I saw Cosette she had to be mine. A beautiful tulip in a field of plain daisies.” A smile broke through the pain for a moment. “I feel lost without her. Like my life is covered in this fog.”

I felt a tear brimming. I put a hand on his. “It will get better.”

“That's what they say. Sometimes it feels like she died just yesterday and other times it was a lifetime ago. She was so adventuresome and playful. She would love to tease me, prancing around in the apron until my blood boiled.”

“Is that why you wanted me to...” He was seeing me as his wife. My thumb stroked his hand.

“Yeah. That's why I wanted to tie you up. It was our game. I was always the happiest when her dark eyes looked up at me with such trust, her body bound.” He looked at me, his eyes open wounds. “It was wrong of me to ask. I won't. You're not my wife.”

“Tie me up.”