Buying Curves Read online

  “I thought I was your new assistant. How many fake fiancées do you have, anyway?”

  Oliver laughed before leaning down and pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to my forehead. It was such a sweet, simple gesture; not at all out of the norm for a doting husband-to-be.

  Except there was nobody in the room to witness our charade yet.

  “Just practicing.” His breath was warm against my skin as he stood back up, and flutters of excitement wound their way through my entire body.

  “I have some errands to run before this weekend. But I’ll make dinner reservations and have a car pick you up around eight. Enjoy yourself today, promise?”

  “I promise.”

  This was going to be the hardest job I’d ever walked away from.

  ***

  “How do we like it?” Celeste asked.

  I blinked at the reflection in the opulent dressing room mirror, trying to come up with something to say.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  The voluptuous blonde whisked back the curtain, scrutinizing the dress she’d chosen for me with the eye of a surgeon. But unlike the ivory and burgundy, there was no disapproval on her face as she took in the curve-hugging black dress with its plunging neckline.

  “Honey you make that dress look good,”

  When Oliver had turned me loose on Rodeo Drive with his black AmEx, I’d honestly been terrified. Most of the women in this town were tiny, willowy model types with legs for miles. I didn’t think I’d even be able to find a single outfit worthy of dinner with my new pretend fiance. To my complete surprise and delight I was oh so wrong.

  Celeste’s store Dangerous Curves was nestled between Prada and Juicy Couture on a tree-lined street. The pink striped awning out front reminded me of the Libido condom boxes I’d have to open up the glass case to sell back when I worked at Dell’s.

  The store was bigger than it looked from the street, decked out in lush jewel tones and ornate gold mirrors. Dotted throughout were several extravagant loveseats, inviting shoppers to sit down and simply take their mind off of spending untold amounts of cash.

  It was what I imagined the inside of a genie’s bottle must look like.

  Celeste had been expecting me— apparently Oliver really did have an actual non-betrothed assistant to take care of these things.

  One careful top to bottom visual inspection of me in my battered Vans was seemingly enough to give her my exact measurements. Celeste had marched me through the store, whisking dresses and skirts and far, far too much lingerie off the racks like a general in Louboutins.

  Once she’d gotten me in the dressing room, she’d tutted at the discount store sports bra before handing me the kind of lace and satin underthings I thought they only made for girls whose girls never needed any actual support. To my amazement, the nude bra did amazing things for my cleavage.

  By the time we’d gotten to the sleek black dress, I hardly even recognized the woman in the mirror. The massage and spa treatments had left my skin silky smooth beneath the luxurious fabric. My neatly manicured nails gleamed deep red beneath the glittering mini chandelier of the dressing room. This person, whoever she was, could almost pass for someone who could be seen having dinner with Oliver Knight.

  I felt a shiver of anticipation at the thought.

  Chapter 6

  Oliver

  I smiled as I pulled Luci’s chair out for her. The close, intimate setting of Wolfgang Puck’s Beverly Hills restaurant Cut surrounded us. The candlelight flickered, the atmosphere familiar and romantic.

  “Having second thoughts?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, just a bit intimidated. It’s a far cry from my last date. I’m guessing they don't serve burgers here?”

  I couldn’t help but grin at her obvious discomfort. “Luci, Luci, Luci. Listen. This is a Michelin Star Restaurant. Reservations don’t come cheaply or easily. I had to pull strings just to get us a table on short notice. Fortunately, Wolfgang is a pretty good string to pull.”

  I waited a beat to let my words sink in, watched her hang her head a bit in obvious embarrassment.

  “They serve amazing little mini-burgers. You should try some.”

  She furrowed her brow. Even her frowns were cute. I was clearly in over my head already.

  “What’s the difference between a regular burger and a bunch of small ones?”

  I grinned, leaning back in my seat. “Oh, they give you about half as much and charge ten times as much.”

  She laughed, a sound that was sweeter than honey. It was a full and rich sound, which described Luci all over. She was as full-figured as the glass of wine we had been served.

  “You won’t have to worry about ordering tomorrow night, but I still thought it’d be good to get you used to this atmosphere. Think of it as the rehearsal dinner.”

  The last bit got her, another flush of pink rising to her cheeks in a way I was beginning to enjoy immensely.

  “Now, in order to sell this, we should probably get to know each other, don’t you think?” I caught her eye, giving her my best mischievous smile. “You go first. I need to know everything about you so that I can cover for you if you get overwhelmed.”

  She took a big pull of her Pinot Noir, hand shaking. Lord, but she was adorably nervous. Like a sweet and sexy baby deer that I wanted to shelter and protect. I reached across the small table, taking her other hand in mine.

  “Hey. You’re going to do great Luci. I believe in you.”

  This time her smile was as big as her eyes, though not as wet. I gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Come on. Tell me all about Hicksville and growing up eating...uh, ramen?”

  She laughed again, wiping away a bit of moisture from the corners of her eyes.

  “No, ramen is college kid poor. We were Kraft dinner poor.”

  “Ahhhhh.” I nodded slowly, drawing out the sound. “Yes, of course. Kraft dinner. Yes.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I refuse to believe you don’t know what macaroni and cheese is.”

  I gave her hand a squeeze.

  “I think I’ve seen it on TV once or twice. I thought it was a myth. A relic of ancient times, like cars without seat warmers and laundry that didn’t clean itself.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “It doesn’t. Someone like me does it.”

  I waved a hand dismissively.

  “Details. So what was it like living out Friday Night Lights?”

  She snorted, an unladylike sound I found immensely appealing.

  I really am head over heels for this girl.

  “I dreamed of something like that. We were more Tuesday Afternoon Bingo.”

  She caught me at the wrong moment as I took a sip, causing me to nearly choke to death on my hundred dollar glass of red.

  “Ok, I see I have a lot to learn. I hope you’re a patient teacher, I like to take things slow.”

  “Do you now?” She was resting her chin in the palm of one hand, fingers curling to cup her cheek.

  I nodded. “Slow and steady wins the race, right? I take everything slow.”

  I let the innuendo drip off the word slow in a way even she couldn’t miss. She didn’t, her eyebrows going up but with a teasing smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

  “Well, alright. A day in the life of Lucille Miller. Wake up at 4 am, milk the cows. Walk to school. Dream of not being poor. Finish school, walk home, bring the cows home. Do some homework, make dinner, finish homework. Rinse and repeat.”

  She kept the teasing smile on her face the whole time. I wondered just how much embellishment she was layering on.

  “Oh, same. Well, I rode to school in a Rolls Royce. Otherwise, same. Weird, huh?”

  She raised an accusatory eyebrow at me.

  “You’ve milked cows?”

  I held my hands out, squeezing the air.

  “You wouldn’t believe the things these hands have seen.”

  She leaned forward, toying with her gl
ass.

  “Try me. Everyone knows about Oliver Knight and his penchant for getting into trouble.”

  I scowled. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, especially about your fiancé. Those are all scurrilous rumors.”

  “The models in Abu Dhabi?”

  “That was all my friends. I was merely an innocent bystander.”

  She fixed me with a pointed look.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever been innocent a day in your life. Sir.”

  I grimaced. “You’ll have to drop that title if we’re going to sell this to my parents. At least in front of them.”

  Now it was her turn to give me a scowl.

  “Oh, so you expect me to still call you Sir in private?”

  I reached across, taking her hand again. I brushed the back of it slowly with my thumb. “I think you would like that.”

  Now she flushed.

  Jackpot.

  The waiter chose an auspicious moment to interrupt. I assumed he’d been keeping a keen eye on things, even though he was staying unobtrusively out of eyesight. I wondered if they went to a special school for that.

  Fine Dining Trade Institute, Or Michelin Star University.

  Probably not.

  I had him regale us with all of the specials. Luci grew increasingly flustered as she seemed unable to or unwilling to order something so outrageously expensive for herself. It was endearing in a way I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  So I put a stop to it by ordering one of everything.

  Gaston didn’t even bat an eye, even though I’m sure he was already trying to figure up the gratuity in his head. Twenty percent of everything was a lot, after all.

  “There. Now you don’t have to choose.” I said.

  Her smile put the sun to shame. It was worth the ridiculous tab. I was beginning to think it would be worth anything.

  Chapter 7

  Luci

  Oliver Knight wasn’t what I had expected at all.

  I grew up in gossip central. There’s nothing that small-town people love so much as juicy stories about their neighbors. Everyone knows everyone else's business. I had a friend who got wasted at a party once and her mom knew she was drunk before she did. I was used to the rumor mill, and the mill ground exceedingly fine where Oliver was concerned. There were lots of rumors of his wild antics and playboy demeanor…

  But so far he had been a perfect gentleman. It was actually a bit frustrating because I was really hoping he wouldn’t be. The wine we’d had at dinner had strengthened that desire, but not anywhere near as much as his easy smile and the way he actually listened to me when I talked.

  “...so I got out as fast as I could. Saved up as much money as I could and just drove. It was freeing, you know? Leaving everything behind. Starting over. I felt fresh, rejuvenated.”

  We were walking along the actual beach. I’d spent a long time just staring at the crashing waves. The light of the moon was more than enough to illuminate the breathtaking sight that was seeing the Pacific for the first time.

  “Virginal?” He teased. His tone was so light I knew he didn’t actually consider it. Who would? It was 2019, no one else I grew up with had kept their v-card past junior year. Three of the girls I graduated with were past their second trimester.

  It had increased the size of my graduating class by ten percent.

  I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I couldn’t seem to stop blushing around the man.

  “Uh, actually. Yeah.”

  He stopped, stock still. We’d been holding hands, and his sudden arrest in momentum pulled me back. The loose footing made me stumble as I was pulled back against him, but then his arms were around me again.

  Safe.

  His eyes met mine, his smile softer, no longer teasing.

  “Really? That’s...wow.”

  I hid my face, another thing that was becoming a habit around him.

  “Not a lot of options to pick from back home. I’d like to say I just didn’t want to end up pregnant, but...there just wasn’t any opportunity.”

  He tilted my chin up, making me look into his eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so fucking sexy. I hadn’t ever met someone who smoldered before. He was inhumanly— inhumanely? — gorgeous. Yeah, inhumane. I’m pretty sure being sweet, smart, sexy and rich violates a Geneva Convention or two.

  “Well, we can’t have that.” His words were almost a whisper, a low murmur that I felt more than heard. This close, his deep voice vibrated through my chest, shaking me to my core.

  Then his lips were on mine, and I learned what being shook really meant. His first kiss was inquisitive, inviting. It asked a question, and I answered enthusiastically. My arms went around his neck and he pulled me against him like we’d done this a thousand times before.

  His stubble was a light scratch that sent a thrill of pleasure coursing through me. No boy I’d kissed had ever felt like this, tasted like this.

  But Oliver Knight wasn’t a boy. He was a man, and I wanted him with every ounce of my being.

  He pulled his mouth off mine and started pressing kisses against my neck and throat in a way that made me melt. An involuntary sound of pleasure escaped my throat, something halfway between a moan and a purr.

  Normally I’d be embarrassed about it, but for once I didn’t stop to think, didn’t overanalyze everything. I let go completely in his strong arms.

  I felt his hands exploring me, and only then did it occur to me that I might do the same. Suddenly the thought was all-consuming, my need to touch him an ache inside me. An ache that began between my thighs but grew and radiated out, making my skin feel stretched and thin.

  I traced the lines of him through his Tom Ford shirt, sliding my hands under his jacket to press against his chest. I felt his big fingers dropping down to the back of my dress, sliding down the exposed back to cup and squeeze one cheek of my ass.

  Then his mouth was on mine again, and this time he was hungry. I matched his need with my own, pressing against him, grinding for every inch of contact. He groaned against me as I pushed myself against the hard length in his slacks. It was obvious, even to me, that he was incredibly aroused— and that the rumors of his endowment hadn’t been one of the tall tales told about him.

  The thought should have scared me, but instead, it excited.

  What was this man doing to me?

  He broke our kiss and I was delighted to find he was panting just as hard as I was.

  I made a sound I didn’t even know I could make, a pouty moue of disappointment.

  “Please?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “We can take this slow, Luci. You’re special. I don’t want to rush you.”

  I was touched by his concern and frustrated by his stubbornness, but most of all, I was turned on by how, even now, he was protecting me from myself.

  I nodded, stepping away.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be able to walk like that?” I teased.

  He gave me a lopsided grin that I found stupidly charming.

  “I have a fair bit of experience with it. Still, you don't mind taking it slow, do you?”

  I caught the double meaning in his words and marveled at how easily he did that. Smooth-talking bastard.

  “With you, Oliver? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter 8

  Oliver

  I could feel Luci’s racing pulse right through the rumble of the BMW’s engine.

  Her fingers were intertwined with mine, our joined hands resting comfortably on the center console. I traced my thumb across the soft skin of her palm, as much to reassure her as to simply enjoy having her this close. I knew it was far too soon to be thinking about her this way, but I couldn’t help it.

  I’d fallen head over heels for Luci the first time I’d laid eyes on her. I’d had to force myself to sleep in a completely separate room the night before, lest I give into temptation. I was in love with Luci, there was no sense in denying it to myself any more.

  Still, I
didn’t want to rush things, and she was nervous enough about today without me springing anything else on her.

  I saw her watching the scenery roll by. Last year’s unexpected storms painted the passing mountains in vibrant green grass and blankets of bright wildflowers. She may have come from the middle of nowhere, but this was where she belonged. Luci was every bit as resilient as a desert wildflower, and twice as beautiful.

  The soft blue dress hugged her curves the way I wanted to, skimmed across the swell of her breasts and the softness of her thighs. It was maddening, and I felt myself harden at the memory of exactly how perfectly that skin of hers had felt beneath my palms last night. The look in her eyes when I’d left her to sleep alone in my room had nearly devastated me.

  I couldn’t wait until this weekend was over, so that I could start dating her properly, show her what she meant to me. Prove to her that I was never going to let anything bad happen to her, ever again.

  “You ready?” I brought her hand to my lips as I guided the convertible up my parent’s winding drive.

  “Absolutely not,” Luci laughed.

  Her eyes sparkled at me in the late afternoon sunshine, and I’d never been more ready for anything before in my life.

  ***

  “So tell us, Luci, where did you study?”

  I watched the tick in her jaw as my mother’s perfectly Botoxed face did everything but display actual emotion over the rim of her martini glass.

  We were seated in the breezy sunroom at the front of the house. I could see the elegantly set table in the formal dining room beyond the arched doorway where we were having cocktails. The message was clear: we were being let in in stages.

  My parents’ initial joy at seeing me arrive with a fiancée in tow had begun to cool rather rapidly once they realized they didn’t know Luci from any of their social circles. I should have known that they’d react poorly to the only woman I’d ever actually had real feelings for simply because she wasn’t a trust fund baby.

  “Pebble Creek High, though I don’t think that’s what you mean,” Luci’s own smile was warm and inviting as ever. Her wine glass sat almost completely untouched on its cut-crystal coaster. She’d remained friendly and approachable, and it was confusing my mother in the most delightful way.