CURVES BY DESIGN (Big Girls And Bad Boys: A BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his pocket and he reached for it, tearing his eyes away from Molly to look at the caller ID.

Dylan.

"Where in the hell are you?"   He greeted his brother abruptly, perturbed that Dylan had left Molly waiting anxiously, alone.

Dylan chuckled as he answered, "The dinner was cancelled.   If you had answered your phone earlier, I could have let you know.   Are you at the restaurant?"

"Hell, yes, I'm here.   So is Molly."   His answer was gruff and surly.   "Where are you?"

"Work.   They called an emergency meeting for one of our biggest clients.   I couldn't get out of it.   The only ones I couldn't get in touch with were you and Molly.   I'm sorry."

Dylan was in marketing and catered to some large clients...but it was no excuse.   Maybe it was the alcohol, but Devon found himself furious at his younger brother.   "My phone was off.   I just realized it a few minutes ago.   But how could you not get in touch with Molly?   She's just waiting here."

"She might not have her phone with her.   Listen...can you just let her know that we're rescheduling the dinner.   Tell her I'm sorry and I'll talk to her later.   I gotta go.   I'm busy putting out fires right now.   I'm sure she'll understand."   Dylan sounded anxious, ready to get back to work.

Devon gritted his teeth.   "Dylan?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a complete asshole."   Devon punched the disconnect button on his phone and turned it off again.

Damn it.
   He didn't want to be the one to go over and tell Molly that Dylan wasn't going to show.   He didn't think she should be understanding at all and let Dylan off the hook that easily.   He sure as hell wouldn't.

Devon stood up, feeling the effects of the alcohol he had consumed as he grabbed his suit jacket off of the barstool.   He was a little dizzy.   He had drunk to make himself numb...and it wasn't even going to happen tonight.   Dylan wasn't going to announce his engagement, so Devon was going to have to go through this experience on another hellish night?

Oh...hell no.
  
I’ll be sick...or busy...or have car problems.
  
I’m not going through this again.

He had never thought his little brother would be such a callous bastard.   Dylan had casually blown off the fact that Molly was waiting here for him on such an important night, like it was nothing.

He was slightly unsteady as he made his way to the waiting area to break the news to Molly. Dreading the disappointed look he was sure to see on her beautiful face, Devon tried to console himself by thinking of all of the different ways he wanted to kick his little brother's ass.   They had never had a physical fight...but for the first time in his life...Devon really wanted to pound his brother into the ground.   It might make him feel better.

Molly saw him coming as he left the bar.   He was dressed in a navy blue suit, his jacket draped casually over his shoulder.   And he was headed straight toward her.

Okay...maybe not particularly straight.
   His face was stormy and he was walking determinedly, but a little unsteady.

She cocked her head as she watched him approach, coming to the obvious conclusion that he had probably had a few drinks.   He wasn't stumbling drunk, but he definitely wasn't carrying himself with his usual confident stride.

"Nobody's coming."   He informed her abruptly as he stopped in front of her.   "Dylan called me and said he had a work emergency and the dinner would have to be another time."

Crap.
   She rifled through the interior of the small bag she was carrying, realizing that she had forgotten to drop her phone into her purse.   "Okay.   I wish I had remembered my phone.   I wouldn't have had to wait.   But it's no big deal."

She watched Devon as he dropped his large, muscular body into the chair beside her.   "Don't forgive him so easily, Molly."   His voice was husky as his blue eyes pierced her with a fierce look.

Definitely drinking.
   Not that she knew him well...but she knew this wasn't his typical behavior.   "Devon...are you drunk?"

He shrugged.   "I've had a few.   But I'm not so hammered that I don't know what I'm saying.   Dylan is treating you like shit and you're making it too easy for him.   He should value a woman like you."

A woman like her?
  
What was he saying?
  
Did he even know what he was saying?

"Dylan is a good friend.   I'm sure he wouldn't have cancelled unless it was a dire situation."

"He's an asshole."

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Devon's abrupt statement. He obviously had drunk enough that he had lost his usual tact.   She got up from her chair and held her hand out to Devon.   "I'm taking you home.   You obviously shouldn't be driving."

She watched with amusement as he scowled at her hand before grasping it as he muttered, "He didn't even buy you a ring?"

Molly tugged him to his feet.   Her hand was engulfed by his strong, masculine grip, and just that casual contact was enough to send a jolt of sensation down her arm and spine.   Oh hell...she needed her head examined.   She was either desperate or deranged for feeling these tingles of excitement from the meaningless touch of a drunk man who didn't have the slightest interest in her.

"Why would anybody give me a ring?" she asked curiously, as she led him out of the restaurant and to her vehicle.

She knew she was crazy for placing herself in a position where she had to spend any more time in Devon's company, but he was basically harmless at the moment, and Dylan would never forgive her if something happened to his big brother.   She wouldn't forgive herself either.

As she hit the button on her key chain to unlock the car door she heard him mumble, "Emeralds and diamonds, to match your eyes."

Oh, Lord.
   He really was inebriated.   "Devon...do you know what you're talking about?" The nurse in her kicked in, wanting to know if he was oriented or if he was rambling.

He seemed perfectly capable as he folded his large body into her car and closed the door.   She got in and fastened her seatbelt before he replied,   "You and Devon were going to announce your engagement.   Why hasn't he gotten you a ring?"

He sounded completely serious.   No slurred speech and perfect diction...but he was talking complete nonsense.

She leaned over him to grab his seatbelt and snap it closed as she replied to humor him, "Dylan and I aren't getting married, Devon.   He's marrying my best friend, Lauren."

He went completely silent.

It was dark and she couldn't see his face.   "Are you okay to give me directions?" she asked him softly.

Surprisingly, he answered crisply and clearly, leading her to his home just on the outskirts of the city.

Molly let out an audible sigh as she pulled into Devon’s long, winding driveway.   She couldn't see it well, but she could tell that his house was a beautifully renovated Victorian-era home.   She loved the charm and the sense of history in these old, beautiful houses.

She parked close to the door and grabbed her purse.   She would see Devon safely inside before she headed back to her apartment.   He seemed okay...but she was a little concerned about his mental state.

Devon grabbed her hand tightly as he unlocked the door and led her into the charming old home.   As he flipped on the lights, she gasped as she surveyed the interior.

It was like stepping back in time - modern met Victorian in a way that was so subtle that it was enchanting.   The maroon and gold of the heavy drapes and wallpaper blended in with a more modern leather couch and recliner.

She was surrounded by antiques right down to the grandfather clock and a few side pieces of furniture with ornate legs that were covered with lace valances.   Carefully restored hardwood floors were covered with plush carpets in the ornate, Victorian style.   The lights were electric, but the fixtures, including the large chandelier, were old style.   It was Victorian fussy...yet it was not.

She twirled around in the center of the living room in awe as she asked, "Did you do this yourself?"

"It took me years to restore this old monster, but I finally finished it a year ago."

"You're a genius, Devon," she blurted out before she could stop herself.   It was the truth.   His eye for detail was incredible.

Devon grasped her shoulders and pulled her down on the couch.   His eyes were intense as he held her still, tilting her face to meet his eyes.   "Molly,   is it true that you aren't marrying Dylan, or am I so intoxicated that I'm imagining it?"

She gave him a puzzled look as she answered, "Why would I marry Dylan? We've always been friends.   I set him up with his fiancée-to-be, Lauren.   She's another good friend and a fellow nurse at the hospital I work in."

He groaned as he leaned back against the cool leather and closed his eyes.   "You went as his date to Mom and Dad's party."

He thought she was Dylan's
date
?   "I wasn't his date.   I went with him as a friend because I'm fond of your parents."   She hesitated before adding, "If Dylan and I had been dating I never would have...I wouldn't..." she muttered, her face flushing a bright pink.

He opened his eyes and shot her a scorching glance.   "Let me devour you on the patio?" he finished with a growl.   "Shit!   I've tortured myself for six months over the fact that I mauled my brother's date."   He stroked her cheek softly as he continued, "I wanted you so badly that I forgot my brother was dating you."

"But...but you were so distant the rest of the night.   I thought you regretted what happened."   She looked away from him, blinking to keep herself from tearing up just thinking about his rejection.

"I was eaten up with guilt for kissing my brother's woman and enjoying it so much, Molly."

"I've never been his woman.   We...we aren't interested in each other that way.   We never have been," she answered him honestly.

One moment Molly was looking at his astonished face...and the next, she was pinned beneath his body on the couch.   She quivered as Devon whispered, "I've been dreading hearing that you two were getting more serious.   I thought I was going to the restaurant tonight to hear about your engagement.   Dylan and I haven't talked much in the last few months because he's been so busy.   He hasn't told me about Lauren.   I tortured myself thinking about you with him and then hated myself for coveting you, wanting you when I thought you were my brother’s."

Oh, God. Oh, God.
   She had to be strong.   The man was drunk.   He didn't know what he was saying.

Molly willed herself not to react...but her desire betrayed her.   As Devon nuzzled her ear and nibbled his way down her neck, she had to suppress the urge to moan aloud.

"I was so lost that night on the patio, I might have taken you right there if Dylan hadn't interrupted," his sultry, low voice breathed into her ear.

Devon’s mouth covered hers in the same, devastating way as that night at his parents’ party.   He kissed her with a hunger that she couldn't ignore and couldn't resist.   Her mouth opened to him, letting him take her in a way that left her breathless and starving for more.   She gave herself over, lost in the surge of his tongue and the feel of his wandering hands on her body.

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands trembling as they threaded through his thick, silky hair.

She shivered as his hands cupped her breasts through her light, silky dress and bra.   His thumbs zeroed in on her nipples, circling them roughly. They stood at attention for him, begging for his touch.

She whimpered against his mouth as his hand slid under her dress and up her thigh, teasing the flesh above her thigh-high stockings. Ripping her mouth from his she whispered roughly.   "No, Devon. This isn't right." Her mouth was saying no, but her hips came up to meet his seeking fingers.

"Just let me touch you, Molly."   He slid off the couch to kneel beside it, his hand stroking up her thigh.   "Open your legs for me."

His fingers played up and down her slit over the silk of her panties.   She blushed, her face pink and flushed, knowing that he could already feel how damp the material was from her arousal.   "Devon."   She could barely choke out his name as his caress became more demanding.   Her legs opened with a will of their own, her body unable to deny him.

He slipped his fingers under the elastic and delved into her tender folds, drenching his digits with her slippery heat.   "You're so hot, so soft, so wet. Let me satisfy you, sweetheart."

Molly squirmed as one of his fingers circled her clit slowly, making her lift her hips, needing more contact.

He leaned into her and kissed her senseless, leaving her mindless to anything but his invading tongue in her mouth and his talented fingers making her burn for release.   Her needy little sounds vibrated against his lips as he became more aggressive, pushing her need to an urgent level.

She grasped his shoulders, her nails sinking into his thin, cotton dress shirt as he inserted two fingers into her wanting channel, filling her.

Oh, yes.
  
Hell, yes.
   Her body was nearly in flames and she willed those fingers to start moving, start fucking her.   Her body was demanding satisfaction and it wanted it now.   Her mind was lost as the commands of her body took control, demanding to be sated.