The Billionaire's Lover: Curves To Keep (Part One) (A BBW Erotic Romance) Read online

  Gabrielle was shocked and yet at the same time full of sudden lust watching the two. She had ceased to be naïve early in her teen years, so the idea of sex in the workplace was not unthinkable to her—but the possibility of two people at such a high level engaging in such blatant behavior in the middle of the work day was surprising. She stared at the scene in front of her for several long moments, engrossed as the spanking the woman was enduring intensified. She felt herself starting to get wet with vicarious desire, trembling as she imagined herself in the woman’s position, helpless with the handsome man’s hand coming down against her sensitive skin. The man spoke again, and Gabrielle, tuned into the situation as acutely as she possibly could be, heard his words more clearly. “I’m going to remove my belt now. Are you ready?” Gabrielle came back to herself suddenly, realizing that much more than a simple spanking would evolve from the interaction that she was witnessing. She remembered why she had come to the office in the first place, and reminded herself that there was plenty of porn available for free online—she didn’t need to be a peeping Tom. She gathered herself up, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.

  Before anything more could happen, Gabrielle confidently reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing through the door and into the room without any attempt to knock or otherwise give the two an opportunity to cover up what they had been up to. As the woman looked up in shock, not quite suppressing a yelp of dismay, Gabrielle closed the door behind her and stood unabashed in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest. “I need to speak with whoever is in charge of this office, and I need to talk to that person right now.” The woman struggled with her bindings, looking helplessly horrified as she struggled to look over her shoulder at the man. Gabrielle admired the coolness he displayed, untying the woman’s wrists in a fluid motion.

  The woman scrambled to collect her clothes, blushing a furious bright red and avoiding Gabrielle’s gaze as she faltered and stumbled, getting dressed with panicked movements. The man, meanwhile, buttoned up his shirt with a casual air, slipping the necktie around his collar and started to re-tie it in automatic, almost graceful movements. “Sir, do you want me to call security?” the woman asked, her voice still slightly shrill with shock and dismay as she rushed to the door, hesitating.

  “That won’t be necessary, Nicole. Go back to the lobby and ensure that myself and this young woman are not disturbed further.” The man sat down behind the desk, and Gabrielle was almost amused as the secretary skittered out of the room, closing the door behind her with a nervous jerk. Gabrielle felt the man’s gaze take her in, lingering not at her waist or her legs but instead at her face, and she realized that he could see the flush in her cheeks perfectly clearly, even as he calmly and coolly watched her. “Now, what do you want?” Gabrielle gathered her composure and came more fully into the room, remembering her anger and frustration with her interview and the obvious discrimination she had faced.

  “I had an interview about fifteen minutes ago with Eric Richards in the design department for an internship with this company,” she said, feeling her anger increase as she remembered the details of the interview. “Not only did he not look at my portfolio once during the interview, but he made inappropriate comments about my weight, suggesting that because I’m not a skinny fashion model that I am somehow less qualified for the position. I saw him treat a girl who did look like a skinny fashion model with plenty of friendliness and courtesy, so apparently he’s not averse to women in general—just women who don’t happen to be a size zero.” Gabrielle saw amusement flicker across the man’s face as she launched into her description of the interview; while she didn’t think he thought it—or she—was a joke, there was something in his expression that piqued her. She gave her account, relaying all of the inappropriate remarks and becoming more and more irritated as she remembered the details forcefully.

  “I can appreciate your concerns,” the man said smoothly when Gabrielle ran out of things to say for a moment, her heart pounding with a mixture of lust, anger, and disappointment. “That must have been a very difficult experience for you. You have my sincerest apologies for Mr. Richards’ behavior—it is certainly not the kind of conduct I would expect of a manager.” Gabrielle began to resent the man’s smooth ways, thinking that he was giving her a high-level brush-off. Nothing would ever come of her complaint; certainly she wouldn’t have a chance at the position. She had to do something more.

  “Yes well, if the next words out of your mouth are ‘unfortunately there’s nothing I can do…’ then you can just save them. If you don’t find something to do about this, then I’m going to make sure I find someone to tell about the fact that you were having freaky bondage sex with your secretary—and I’ll tell as many people as will listen to me.” The man’s bright blue eyes widened, and a look of sharp annoyance and irritation crossed over his face for just an instant. Gabrielle thought that the great man probably wasn’t used to being threatened or talked back to; between his good looks and his position, he was likely surrounded by simpering women like that secretary, only too happy to do his bidding. He ran his fingers through his short, dark, curly hair quickly, mastering himself in the next instant.

  The smile that curved his lips as he looked at her for a long moment told Gabrielle that if nothing else, she had secured his respect. The man stood. “I was not going to suggest that there is nothing I can do about it,” he said smoothly, reaching for the jacket that he had left draped on the desk. He straightened his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs and looked at Gabrielle again. This time, his gaze trailed over her body slowly from head to toe before returning with unusual propriety to her face. “I would like to make up for your bad experience by offering you a second interview—with me. I will, of course, need you to come to my real office; next week I should have time available to see you.” Gabrielle puzzled over the comment.

  “Your real office?” she asked, glancing at the room they were in. The man smiled again, a look of mischief dancing in his bright eyes.

  “Yes, Miss…” Gabrielle realized with a start that she hadn’t actually provided her name when she had launched into her diatribe.

  “Young. Gabrielle Young.” The man nodded.

  “Miss Young. You seem to have had luck on your side this afternoon; Harlan Williams is out of the office for the week, so you would not have been able to speak with the Director of Human Resources. However, finding the CEO of the company you’re looking to work for in a compromising position gives you much more leverage than even he would have.” Gabrielle stared at him blankly for a long moment, his words beginning to sink in. The man crossed the room and Gabrielle shook the offered hand numbly, not certain of what she was doing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Young. I am Tyler Edwards.” Gabrielle snapped out of her surprise, smiling and finishing the handshake with firm cordiality.

  “It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Edwards,” she said. “Next week, you said? What day?” Edwards smiled slightly at her quick recovery and took out his phone, glancing at a calendar.

  “Let’s say Wednesday, at four.” Gabrielle nodded and left the office with a spring in her step, marching smartly through the echoing lobby to the elevator and smiling to herself with relief and excitement.

  Chapter Two

  That night, Gabrielle decided to celebrate her unconventional victory with her friends. They met up at the club that Gabrielle preferred to haunt, and soon they were two or three drinks in, Gabrielle telling a tactfully edited account of her encounter; she didn’t mention who it was she had scored an interview with specifically, only that he was a “mucky muck.” Her friends clucked with dismay at her account of Richards’ blatant discrimination and rudeness, and crowed at her slightly toned-down description of what she had seen in the office of the Human Resources director. Her friends were pleased with her victory, and insisted that she would certainly win the job in the end. “I wish I had half the guts Gabby does,” one of her friends commented. Another one pointed out that if she h
ad caught a high-up member of the company engaged in inappropriate activities, she would have been too shocked to be able to do anything but stare—and that she’d probably get caught as a snoop and ruin her chances altogether. The alcohol was warming her from the inside, and as she finished the story, Gabrielle’s thoughts turned back to the sight she had witnessed.

  While she was far from being a prude, Gabrielle had always been the dominant force in her sexual relationships. She tended to pick partners who were willing to go along with what she wanted, who were anxious to please and who listened to her instructions. While she would have thought that the idea of being subjugated the way the secretary had been would be repellant to her, Gabrielle’s recollection of the situation made her hot with desire. She barely kept up her part of the conversation as her mind lingered over details; the sight of Edwards’ chest, the way he had looked so thoroughly satisfied with himself as his hand had come down across the secretary’s bare ass. She remembered the gut-deep sounds of the woman’s moans, the fact that she had clearly been completely and utterly turned on by what was happening in the office.

  In the moment, she hadn’t thought she had paid much attention to what Edwards looked like; in recall, however, she realized that her senses had been unusually acute. She could picture him vividly: tall and muscular, easily over six feet with a tight look to his body rather than bulky mass. He had classic features, with brilliantly blue eyes and dark brown hair cut close in wavy curls around his head. His hands were strong-looking, Gabrielle recalled, his thighs thick with muscle; even his forearms were toned. Her mouth watered at the thought of him, and she found herself wondering idly what exactly would have happened next. He had been preparing to remove his belt, she remembered—she tried to imagine it, to imagine herself in the secretary’s position, hearing the whispering glide of the leather belt slipping through the loops of his pants, the clinking of the buckle, and then the subtle snap of the fine leather as he tested it before coiling it and bringing it down against her skin in a sharp crack that would send a heady jolt through her. Gabrielle wondered what the belt would really feel like—different from the hand, certainly, but would the pain be sharp, like a knife against her skin, or more hot? And how long would Edwards have used the belt on his willing victim? And then—Gabrielle’s mind turned the corner—what would he have done after he had finished with the belt?

  In spite of the good time she was having, Gabrielle’s erotic thoughts consumed her, and she found herself looking around the club for a good target, someone she could take on as an outlet for her hormonal high. She picked out a prospect, watching him from afar for a long moment and putting her talent for figuring men out to good use. He was tall and slim, with black hair and bright eyes, a colorful tattoo sleeve disappearing into the rolled-up cuffs of his shirt. He was wearing slightly loose, slouchy black pants, a bright white dress shirt and a black vest, and Gabrielle recalled that she had seen him before; he was the bartender at her favorite night spot, a bar a few blocks away from the club she was in. Whenever she had visited his bar, he was always friendly; coming to refill her drinks quickly, always pausing to chat with her for a few moments. He was a little shy, but Gabrielle tended to like her men that way—the air of reserve lent a little mystery to them.

  Gabrielle approached him, coming to stand near him at the bar on the pretext of getting a new drink. She brushed her hip against him as if by accident and when he glanced at her she started, smiling brightly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I brush you?” she asked, calling up an expression of dismay. The man’s brief flicker of annoyance at being bumped into transformed into pleased surprise as he looked at her.

  “No big deal,” he said, his voice barely carrying over the music. “It’s crowded and all.” Gabrielle nodded, smiling with apparent relief.

  “I know you—you’re the bartender at Sweeney’s, right?” The man nodded, turning to face her fully, and Gabrielle drew just a little bit closer to him, striking up a conversation. She mentioned that she was out celebrating a coming job interview that she was fairly certain would result in the best job of her life, and listened with interest as he talked about the book he was working on. He insisted on buying her a drink, and Gabrielle gave in after the minimum of protests that he didn’t have to—that she could pay for herself. It was a dance that she knew quite well. Her friends were not surprised by her defection, and when she went away from the man she was seducing for a few moments to talk to them once more, she felt his gaze following her and smiled.

  “Gabby’s got someone on the hook,” her friend Victoria murmured with appreciation. While Gabrielle’s friends were not all the same size as her—some larger and some closer to the ‘ideal,’ they all had a fair amount of admiration for her self-confidence and self-possession, the way she was able to get what she wanted from whichever man she happened to set her intentions on.

  “Ahh, it’s not guaranteed,” Gabrielle said, though from the way he had been looking at her, she knew that it would take a lot for him not to want to persuade her to come home with him. She returned to his side after several minutes with her friends, asking more questions about his book, about his interests and hobbies outside of his job.

  By the end of the night, the man—Alex—was like putty in her hands. He invited her back to his apartment on cue, and Gabrielle agreed after only a momentary hesitation, entirely to increase his desire for her. She let herself be led out of the club on his arm, suppressing her amusement at the fact that the majority of men were so easy to convince, to seduce. He pressed her against the passenger side door of his car, kissing her hungrily while his hands traveled over her curves, lingering at her hips and holding them tightly. Gabrielle could feel the pulse of his lust, the tension in his body; as he deepened the kiss, she felt his hard cock straining at the confines of his pants, pressing against her as he pinned her to the cold metal of his car.

  They made it to his apartment, and Gabrielle finally let herself take control of the situation, wrestling it from Alex’s hands with ease; they had retired to his couch in the living room to kiss and cuddle, gradually increasing the intensity of their embrace. Gabrielle shifted her weight, moving so that Alex was on his side and then on his back before she slipped on top of him quickly, straddling his hips and deepening the kiss in the same moment. Alex’s hands roamed over her body, caressing her breasts, tickling her waist and then gripping her hips with need as Gabrielle rocked against him, rubbing against the ridge of his cock in his pants slowly and steadily. Alex began to unbutton her blouse, burying his face against her breasts as soon as he had them exposed, nuzzling the fabric of her bra. Gabrielle felt his hot breath against her skin, the slickness of his tongue and the softness of his lips as he pulled the cups down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

  Gabrielle went to work on Alex’s clothes, unbuttoning his vest and pulling it off along his arms before she began on his dress shirt. She slipped her hands underneath the fabric, running her fingers along his chest and ribs. She moaned as Alex’s hands moved over her body, stripping away her blouse completely and finding the clasp of her bra and unhooking it. Alex moved his lips up from her breasts and back up to her mouth, kissing her as they moved together; he thrust his hips up against hers, and Gabrielle felt herself getting more and more wet, thinking absently of Tyler Edwards as she and Alex stripped each other down. She briefly wished that Alex had the kind of personality that Edwards had—that he would be willing to treat her the way that the powerful CEO had treated the secretary. But she knew that the wish was unavailing; she needed to enjoy the moment, and she had every intention of doing so.

  Gabrielle managed to get Alex’s pants off of him and reached into his boxers, past the elastic waist, to wrap her hand around his hard cock. She pumped him firmly, feeling the heat and heft of him, and Alex moaned out, his hips arching, his cock twitching in her hand. She smiled to herself and tugged his underwear down over his hips, slithering down along his body and looking up at his face as she brought her mouth d
own onto him. She took in just the tip at first, wrapping her lips around it firmly and running her tongue along the sensitive skin. Alex gasped as she took more and more of him into her mouth, looking up at his face. She sucked and licked, tasting the sharp flavor of the precum that began to flow gradually. Gabrielle pressed her tongue along the nerve she knew ran along the underside of the shaft, from the base to the tip, conquering her gag reflex as she moved her mouth over Alex’s erection. He ran his fingers through her hair, moaning and murmuring encouragements, swept up in the sensations that Gabrielle was providing.