The Billionaire's Curvy Conquest - Complete

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Authors: Lydia Layne

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BOOK: The Billionaire's Curvy Conquest - Complete
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The Billionaire's Curvy Conquest: The Complete BBW Romance Collection

Lydia Layne

Published by Uncommon Publishing Group, 2015.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE BILLIONAIRE'S CURVY CONQUEST: THE COMPLETE BBW ROMANCE COLLECTION

First edition. June 29, 2015.

Copyright © 2015 Lydia Layne.

Written by Lydia Layne.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

The Billionaire's Curvy Conquest: The Complete BBW Romance Collection

His Special Project

His Special Seduction

His Special Secrets

His Special Confession

His Special Proposal

Sexy Extras

About the Author

Cassie James is a curvy girl with a crappy job. As an administrative assistant at Reed Technologies, the highlight of her day is getting a glimpse of the company’s founder, sexy billionaire David Reed. But when a special assignment sends Cassie on a personal errand for Mr. Reed, things get a little more personal than she expects.

Sparks fly between the young, submissive woman and her handsome, dominating boss, and Cassie soon falls hard for the mysterious Mr. Reed. Even though she knows that she's just a plus-size prop in his sexy game of seduction, she can’t resist the dark and demanding billionaire.

Except, David Reed has secrets. Secrets that make her question their unconventional arrangement. Secrets that make her wonder what kind of game he's really playing...and whether her heart will ultimately survive.

~*~*~

T
his novel-length collection includes all five installments in The Billionaire’s Curvy Conquest series. It’s a steamy, suspenseful BBW romance featuring red hot passion between a rich alpha male and the big beautiful woman he just can’t resist!

~*~*~

His Special Project

~*~*~

“Y
ou’re a very beautiful young woman, Miss James. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. Here, like this. Under my control.”

Chapter 1

W
hen I woke up this morning, there was no indication that the day would be anything but ordinary.

Yet here I was, at 2:30 in the afternoon, standing in Mr. Reed’s penthouse office with my ample curves poured into a too-tight corset and matching panties that didn’t have a crotch!

I was given a deadline to complete his special project, but through no fault of my own, I had run late. Although if I were being honest, late was my middle name.

As Mr. Reed’s eyes hungrily assessed my body in the lingerie, his voice stated that I must be punished for my tardiness.

Reaching in to one of the shopping bags that I had placed at his feet, he pulled out the leather paddle, holding it in one hand while slapping it against the other.

My eyes widened and my mouth went dry.

That
was how he intended to punish me?

~~~

E
ight hours earlier.

The day began like any other, with a shower, two cups of coffee and a mad dash to catch the express bus to downtown. I got to my desk 15 minutes late because I stopped at the bottom-floor cafe to grab a bagel before waiting in line for the elevator.

I should have taken the stairs to the second floor; god knows I could use the exercise. But I didn’t feel like putting forth the effort.

Although I didn’t know it at the time, when my desk phone beeped just before ten, the day was about to take an intriguing turn.

Glancing at the caller ID, I saw it was my supervisor. Her name was Laurie, but everyone on the second floor fondly referred to her as the Wicked Witch. When Laurie called, the news was rarely good, especially if you had a bad habit of arriving late to work, like me.

“This is Cassie,” I answered in my best obedient-grunt voice. Technically, my title was Administrative Assistant II. But at this company, that was code word for
bitch-do-what-I-tell-you
.

“You’re wanted in Special Projects,” the Wicked Witch said flatly.

“Special Projects?” That was odd. What could they possibly want from a lowly second-floor admin like me?

“Yeah. And you need to hurry. The email request came in early this morning, but I’ve been away from my desk. You were supposed to be up there an hour ago.”

Great. Thanks to Laurie, I was already late.

“On my way,” I said a bit too cheerfully, grateful to get a break from the boring paper-pushing and not even irritated that I was probably going to miss my lunch break.

~~~

T
he Special Projects division of Reed Technologies had its own floor and its own receptionist. While nobody outside the division really knew what went on there, the elite group answered directly to the Big Boss himself, billionaire David Reed.

It was speculated that Special Projects managed every detail of Mr. Reed’s personal and professional life, from getting his $2,000 suits dry cleaned and scheduling his personal appointments, to making his dinner reservations and coordinating international conference calls.

David Reed didn’t inherit his wealth, he earned it. After building Reed Technologies from the ground up, he landed on the Forbes 400 richest people list at the age of 35 and spent the last seven years steadily climbing into the top 10.

At 42, Mr. Reed was in his physical prime. While many men peaked at 30 before losing their muscle tone or their hair, Mr. Reed grew more handsome over time.

His six-foot-two frame was strong and lean and his full head of jet-black hair had just a touch of distinguished gray at the temples. If you were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Mr. Reed at the end of the day, you would see the hint of a sexy five o’clock shadow.

I didn’t have a very active social life and wasn’t really friends with any of my coworkers because they rarely asked big girls like me to meet for happy hour. So most days, I would volunteer to stay late and man the front desk of the Reed Building, hoping that he would leave before I did.

If my timing was good, I would get to see him exit his private elevator, Italian leather briefcase in hand, and stride confidently through the automatic doors to his car, which would be waiting for him out front.

A couple of times he glanced my way. But when I smiled at him, he didn’t smile back. I guess he was looking
through
me rather that
at
me.

Still, I can’t tell you how many nights I dreamed about that five o’clock shadow roughing up the tender skin of my inner thighs as Mr. Reed buried his handsome face between my legs...

“Can I help you?” the Special Projects receptionist asked, interrupting my momentary daydream.

“I’m Cassie James.”

“Oh my, you’re very late,” the receptionist said, glancing at the clock on her computer.

“I know, but my supervisor just told me about the request.”

“Take a seat, please.” She motioned me to a small waiting area and I perched awkwardly on the edge of the leather sofa, wishing I had worn something a little more flattering than stretchy black pants and a loose white blouse.

It wasn’t easy dressing a short, curvy, plus-size body like mine, especially on an administrative assistant’s salary. With big boobs, thick thighs and a round butt, stretchy and loose was cheap and comfortable, if not overly stylish.

Less than five minutes passed before an impeccably-dressed woman in a navy suit greeted me with an engaging smile.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Miss James,” she said, holding out her hand, which I shook firmly. “I’m Greta VanNess and I’ll be briefing you on your assignment.”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I responded, following Greta to her office. “I only found out about your request a few minutes ago.”

Greta smiled. “No need to worry, Miss James. Rest assured that the issue will be addressed with your supervisor.”

I made a mental note to ask around later to see if the Wicked Witch got a talking-to. A taste of her own medicine would serve her right. 

On Greta’s desk was my employee file and she reviewed the contents. “I see that you’re 27, Miss James, and a college graduate with a degree in English Literature.”

“That’s correct,” I responded, silently cursing myself for not listening to my dad when he urged me to major in something more useful, like communications or finance. All my degree had gotten me was a string of dead-end admin jobs and a few published essays in no-pay literary magazines.

“You’ve been with Reed Technologies for six months and have already been promoted from entry level admin to Administrative Assistant II. Excellent work, Miss James.”

“Thank you,” I replied, although the praise wasn’t warranted; every admin who lasted six months at Reed Technologies was automatically promoted to Administrative Assistant II.

I was hoping that this Special Projects assignment, whatever it turned out to be, would provide an opportunity to step up the Reed Technologies corporate ladder. I was tired of job-hopping and was ready for a real career.

“Alice didn’t provide many details about your assignment,” Greta said, “but she did tell me that she recommended you specifically, which is quite an honor!”

Alice was Mr. Reed’s executive assistant. She had been with him since he opened the company’s doors over 20 years ago. While I knew who Alice was - everybody at Reed Technologies did - I had no idea how she knew me.

“You’ll learn more when I send you upstairs,” Greta continued.
Upstairs
was the penthouse floor occupied by Mr. Reed and Alice. “For now, I need you to sign our standard confidentiality agreement.”

Special Projects had a strict confidentiality policy and I gladly signed the document Greta put in front of me.  She made a copy using the tabletop copy machine and paper-clipped the original to my employee file.

Greta handed the file and an elevator pass to me. “Give this authorization to the elevator operator and he’ll take you upstairs. Check in with Alice and give her your file. She’ll take it from there!”

Chapter 2

T
he elevator operator was a stoic fellow who didn’t invite small talk, so we rode in silence. 

Exiting at the penthouse level of the Reed Building, I walked purposely toward Alice’s desk. Taking a deep breath, I handed her my file. “I’m Cassie James, reporting from Special Projects.”

“Good morning, Miss James,” Alice said pleasantly, taking the file and reviewing its contents. “Everything looks to be in order, here. Mr. Reed needs you to do a personal errand for him. The assignment is, shall we say, a bit unconventional. But I guarantee you it will be more fun than sitting in your cubicle on the second floor.”

Alice smiled and I couldn’t help but smile in return. Everyone who worked above the second floor seemed so happy...and so nice!

“Greta in Special Projects told me that you’re the one who recommended me for this assignment.”

“Exactly,” Alice responded. “Mr. Reed is planning a Valentine’s Day getaway with a lady friend and would like to buy her a few gifts as a special surprise.”

“What does that have to do with me?” I asked.

“Well, your body size and shape happen to be a mirror image of his lady friend, although I must say that your face is much prettier than hers and your, ah, attributes appear to be much more natural.”

I think she was referring to my 38 DDs!

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said, still confused.

“Mr. Reed typically buys his lady friends things like jewelry and perfume, which I can handle with ease,” Alice explained. “This time, he would like intimate apparel. Even in my prime, my shape was never as full-figured as yours. And I certainly wouldn’t want to guess at sizing and get it wrong.”

Alice looked to be about five-foot-six and 120 pounds. Her slim frame would probably fit in one of my pant legs.

“I remembered seeing you at the front desk,” she continued, “and realized that you were much better suited for this shopping excursion than I was.”

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