Page 35 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

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Something bubbles beneath the surface.

An insecurity I can’t quite explain, recently exacerbated by Breonna’s words. The way she pointed out my figure left me feeling uneasy and frustrated that I couldn’t gather the nerve to ask her about how close she was to my men.

Mymen.

What a silly thought.

I sink into the sofa, gazing out the window and deep into the night. A full moon has risen, casting its silvery glow over the woods, which is otherwise shrouded in darkness. It’s quiet out there. Quiet and cold. But my heart burns brightly, and my mind keeps skipping through intrusive thoughts.

“What’s up with you?” Chance asks as he walks into the living room.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I reply with a weak smile.

“You haven’t been yourself since you came back from Breonna’s.” He takes a seat next to me, cautious and polite in his approach. His brow furrows with concern, and I think I miss seeing him laughing and smiling. Being happy looks better on him. “What did she say to you?”

I offer a shrug. “Nothing worth repeating. She’s a complex woman, isn’t she?”

“Not necessarily.”

“She didn’t say anything bad about you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He chuckles lightly. “I’m not worried about anything Breonna might have to say.”

“Then why were you and your brothers reluctant to let me spend time with her?”

Booker joins us in the living room, heading straight for the mini bar built into the library. “Reluctant isn’t the word. Breonna has a way of being nice with one hand and then jabbing you with a hypodermic needle of insults with the other,” he says. “I think it’s just the way she is.”

“That, I did notice”

“What did she say to you?” Booker asks, giving me a sideways glance as he pours himself a glass of scotch. “She must’ve said something.”

“Like I told Chance, nothing worth repeating.”

“It’s worth repeating if it’s got you in this sort of mood,” Chance says.

Fair enough. I can’t keep sulking and feeling like I don’t belong in my own body. I catch a glimpse of Nico resting his shoulder against the doorframe, quietly listening. It takes a couple of seconds, but I manage to muster the courage to put these thoughts into words.

“I got the distinct impression you had some sort ofsomethingwith Breonna. And after spending time with her and her ballerina figure, I’m just wondering what you’re doing with someone like me.”

Nico lowers his gaze for a moment. “That’swhat’s bothering you?”

“Well, I’m obviously not a model,” I sigh deeply. “I’m a bit on the heavy side, and I doubt I’ll ever be a size sm—”

Chance cuts me off. “Stop, just stop.”

I stare at him for a minute. “You asked; I’m answering.”

“Do you have any idea how truly beautiful you are, Anya?” he replies, snaking one arm around my shoulders. Instinctively, I melt into his large, muscular frame. “Your curves make you so fucking appealing. These hips.” He lets his hand wander gently over my belly, fingers tenderly digging into my hip. “These thick thighs,” he adds, fingers moving downward.

It doesn’t even matter that I’m still dressed, I feel naked and wanting under his gaze. “Chance… I… …”

“And these plump lips.” Booker joins us, leaving his glass behind as he comes behind the sofa and cups my cheeks with both hands, beckoning me to tilt my head back so I can welcome his kiss. “These gorgeous eyes… Your radiant smile…”

“Anya, your beauty shines from within,” Nico says, and I hear his footsteps across the hardwood floor, though I don’t see him until he’s kneeling before me, hands eager to fondle my thighs. “We never look at a woman’s size or weight. Never have, never will. It’s always been about her character. Because trust me, once we get to know a person, they’re either more beautiful than the day we met, or the ugliest we’ve ever come across.”

“It’s who you are and how you carry yourself that makes you so desirable,” Booker says, his hands traveling down my chest. He takes hold of my breasts, squeezing through the sweater to feel my flesh, soft in his grip.

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