Page 41 of His Curvy Temptation

In the end, he decided it would be best to leave NYC altogether, and the last time my security team updated me, he’d moved across the country, far from me and my girl.

Good.

“Seriously,” Andy says, pushing off of me and climbing out of bed. “I don’t want to miss it. This is Deepti’s big day!”

“I thought she wasn’t even into photography,” I grumble, getting out of bed reluctantly. Andy is standing in front of the full length mirror on the other end of the room now, turning around in her dress to look at it from all angles. I enjoy the view, the way that light blue dress that I bought her flutters over her thick, tanned thighs and dips down in the front, giving me an ample view of her cleavage.

She’s beautiful.

And perfect.

And mine.

All fucking mine.

She won’t let me control her, to overrun her with demands and orders and instructions. She won’t let me run her life, and I know her better than to ever try to do that.

But she’s still mine. She still comes home to me every night, still kisses me with the same passion, still looks at me with those adoring eyes — admiration I can’t even begin to deserve or earn from her.

If I’m broken and damned, she’s the angel that came to redeem me.

She’s got fire in her chest, and big dreams. I won’t stand in her way. I’ll support her, help her — when she lets me help her, that is.

Most of all, I’ll protect her. For all of my days, all I want to do is make sure Andy is taken care of. If she won’t let me take care of her financially, I’ll take care of her in every other way. Emotionally. Physically.Sexually.

“I think your navy button down shirt would go best,” she says. She’s invading my closet now, holding my dress shirts up to her own outfit in the mirror. “Or maybe…maybe the white linen one?”

“You want us to wear matching outfits?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow up.

She turns and smiles at me.

“Notmatchymatching,” she says. “But I want us to coordinate! Like a real couple.”

“Wearea real couple,” I say, standing and taking the shirt from her.

I watch the way her eyes navigate away from mine, taking in my shirtless torso and low-hanging shorts. Lust clouds her gaze.

“I thought you said we need to hurry,” I say as she drops the shirt to the side and runs her hands up my chest, kissing me softly just below my pecs. “We’re already running late.”

“Fuck the exhibit,” she says, guiding me backwards to the bed. I sit down and she climbs into my lap, her dress riding up her thighs as she straddles me. Her fingers rake through my hair and she holds my face by the chin, kissing me deeply, her tongue…

“Wait,” I say, pulling away.

“Oh come on,” Andy groans. “Now you care about being punctual? Deepti won’t even notice we’re late, she’ll be too busy with Art-"

“I’m not worried about being late to the exhibit,” I say. “It’s just, I was about to give you something to complete your outfit.”

“Fuck the outfit,” she says, and she starts to tug the straps of her blue dress down.

“Wait,” I laugh. “I want to do this the right way.”

“Dowhatthe right way?”

I pick her up and put her down on the bed next to me. Then I stand up and cross the room, running my hand over the back of my neck nervously.

“Elijah,” Andy says slowly. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say, barely biting out the word. “Just…”

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