Dangerous Curves: The Good Girl

Weight & Wait (5)

Weight & Wait

It was another two days before we saw each other, and the wait was torture.

As predicted, Nick had to take a quick trip to Japan to sort out his business dealings. We shared a phone call one day while he was there, chatting for almost an hour.

"I should have brought you with me," he said. "I can't stop thinking about you."

My heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

"Yes. I think you'd love it here. I know I'd love having you here. I've got this massive suite all to myself. A giant Jacuzzi tub...I wish you were here to share it with me."

"That would be fun," I said, keeping my tone even, trying not to sound too excited. A Jacuzzi tub in Japan with Nicholas Colby? I was pretty sure this was someone else's life I was living. It sure beat Law & Order reruns. I didn't want to let him know any of that, though. "I've never really been abroad."

"Never?" He sounded surprised. "We'll have to change that."

It sounded incredible, but I couldn't even allow myself to imagine it. He had called this a proposition, I reminded myself. A game. I likely had a shelf life - all of Nicholas Colby's girlfriends did. If I was even his girlfriend at all. Who knew what he considered me? A project? A challenge? I tried to push those thoughts out of my mind. This was way too much fun to spoil it by over thinking things.

So I concentrated on his words. And his text messages, which came frequently:

I wish you were here beside me.

I'd reply: Me, too.

Just the thought of being with you turns me on so much....

It was such a turn on to read his words.

Really? Tell me more.

There are so many things I want to do to you. With my mouth, my fingers, my tongue....

Back and forth they went, until things had reached a fever pitch. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Nick returned to New York. We were scheduled to meet at his apartment - one of three he kept in the city - two hours after his flight landed.

This time, I took more care with my outfit, shopping for half a day on Saturday to find the perfect little black dress. My hair, nails and makeup were also perfect. I also slathered a lightly scented lotion on my body from head to toe. I imagined Nick kissing my body, enjoying the scent.

But, still, deep down I was self-conscious. I wasn't sure how it would feel to undress before him, to allow this man with his perfect body to see me, naked and vulnerable. Had Nick ever seen a woman who looked like me, a woman with large breasts - the kind that came naturally, not in a plastic surgeon's office? Had he ever seen a woman whose thighs were ample, a woman with thick legs, a woman whose stomach wasn't perfectly flat?

He told me, repeatedly, that my curves excited him.

"You're real Violet," he'd said, during our phone call while he was in Japan. "A real woman. That's always what I've wanted. The models...it's just something I've done because it's what's expected of me. But I'm tired of that. I want to do what I want now...and what I want, what I've always wanted, is a woman with a real body."

It sounded amazing, but I knew only time would tell if his words were true.

# # #

I was to arrive at his apartment at 7 p.m. sharp. To make things even more convenient, he sent a car for me, a luxury I hadn't expected, but greatly appreciated. Getting around New York by taxi had been fun and adventurous when I'd first moved to the city; now it was a cumbersome, time-consuming task. A cab could never be found when you needed one most. Tonight, though, I didn't have to worry about that. I had Nick's driver.