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Rub Me the Right Way(241)



“That’s kind of hypocritical coming from someone named after a flying gas balloon.”

“I was named after my father’s favorite band, one of the greatest of all time, fuck you very much.” He released a breath, and we both left the bathroom, heading back to find a new table as our last one had new occupants.

I sat down at the first one that was available and the waitress I’d slept with a few months back came strolling by. She shot me a glare as she approached. “Can I get you anything?” She turned and smiled at Zep who slipped in his order.

“Just get me a beer.” I eyed her up and down, remembering her long legs wrapped around my naked ass as I pounded her.

“Sure thing, honey. I’ll get you your beer with the same effort you took to call me after the sex we had.” She sauntered away, and I had to respect the girl. Most would have been insulted but never called me on my shit.

Zep belted a laugh that was loud enough to turn a few heads in our direction, the ones that weren’t already staring. “Ouch! I like that woman.”

“She was good. Maybe you should try her.” He made a face that told me he just might.

“You know, I gave her an invitation to the gala earlier. With the way you’ve disposed of a few of the locals, things could certainly get interesting.”

About that time the plain Jane who’d spilled her drink rushed past us on her way to the bathroom, she’d apparently spilled again, the front of her blouse was soaked, and tears trailed down her cheeks as she passed.

Zep curled his lip and gave me a nudge. “Poor thing, I’m sure Halle and Sadie are going to eat her alive.”

Without gawking at the poor creature, I stared across the room in the opposite direction. “Better her than me.”

**** End of Sneak Pee ****

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I'm supposed to marry a princess, but f*cking Cinderella will break all the rules.

Promises and commitments?

Nah...that's not me.

Mom throws a masquerade ball to find me a high society bride.

What a f*cking bore.

But I'm bewitched by the girl without an invitation.

Crashing a celebrity party? That makes my magic wand HARD.

One look into her ocean blue eyes and I know I'm in trouble.

I want to feel her all over, kiss those lips, and have her in more ways than one.

She's come to my party. I'll have her coming all night long.

But at midnight she runs.

I grasp her hand. She pulls away.

The ring that she drops is the only evidence that our hot night together did exist.

I have to find the slender finger that fits the ring.

I have to claim... my Cinderella.

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DOUBLE DARE: EXCLUSIVE NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED HOT KINKY ROMANCE


Description

Trina

I worked hard to become a successful plus size model, but despite all the perks, I hated the label. I’m a woman with curves, but that doesn’t make me any less sexy than my counterparts.

When I was offered the opportunity to walk in an annual fashion show, I declined, but my agent had something else in mind, so I acquiesced. Never in a million years did I imagine, a walk down the runway would lead me to not one, but two hotter than sin men vying for my attention. But even that turned out to be a problem…

Wait…Is two REALLY as problem!



Colton

I didn’t want to be here. Hot models came a dime a dozen, but when the curvaceous beauty in the red dress stepped out on the catwalk, that changed everything. I had to have her, but knew there would be competition. Too bad my completion was my twin brother Declan. Now the game is on. Only one of us could win. The question is, would Trina be more than either of us bargained for?

Love can be found in the most unlikely of places, but will Trina find it in one of the twins or will she walk away and leave them both heartbroken?





CHAPTER 1



I sat in the chair and let the makeup artist work her magic as I listened to the activity around me. I remembered asking my agent if I really needed to do this fashion show since I was an established plus sized model here in New York, but she assured me that it was a charity of sorts by a well-known architecture company and for a great cause, helping the local hospital in the interest of sick children. I would be walking the runway in fashions by an up and coming designer who’d recently graduated from Parsons at the top of her class.

I think her name was Valerie something. I wasn’t interested in work that didn’t pay cash, but Monica assured me that this would be fantastic

exposure, and my agent hadn’t steered me wrong. I’d forgiven her for the calls that were for skimpy barely there lingerie a few years ago since they presented themselves as a legitimate clothing store.

I was a bigger model at size eighteen, but my curves were firm and sexy. My favorite look that I had was the highlighted loose curls that I’d given in to when I was young, highlighted in a soft honey shade, completely natural and wild. My sister shared my hair and taught me how to treat it and what products to use, and so far, it had done well for my modeling career. I also had some green eyes that while dark, could lighten depending on my mood. I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings about too much, and they’d flash as my voice started rising when I was irritated.

“Your skin is amazing. You look about nineteen!” The cute blue-haired artist told me as she brushed something over my broad cheekbones. I was twenty-six, so I liked that. “I barely need any foundation with this gorgeous caramel tone and I never say that.”

“Thanks,” I told her as my eyes darted to the mirror to make sure I didn’t look awful. I’d been zoning out since I got here, tired from staying out late with my roommate at a club opening the night before. We had stayed a bit later than necessary and enjoyed the free drinks more than I normally did.

I looked good, and she’d added some highlighter on my skin that popped out in an alluring way. It would look great with the slinky red dress that I was wearing tonight, and she’d done a great job darkening my eyes with smoky colors and great blending. “Ah, thanks. I like this. Can you do my face on a regular basis?” A lot of them took away from my skin color, and I would have to have them fix their errors.

“I’d love to. What do you think about a glossy red on these full lips? I hear you’re wearing a red dress tonight?” She asked, and I nodded as I raised an eyebrow. She giggled. “They tell me this stuff before the models come in.”

“I thought you were psychic,” I replied with a smile as she shook her head and grinned. “I like that idea.”

I was done within a few minutes, and I thanked her and headed to wardrobe as I tugged on the low messy bun that the man had done in my hair. It showed my curls but suited the dress, and I smiled as I pushed the door open and watched the madness for a moment. Models were running everywhere with clothes in their hands, and people were barking at them as I shook my head slowly. This was the reason I preferred solo work and photo shoots. I ran my hands down my yoga pants and stepped forward to the platinum blonde I’d spoken to earlier, who looked completely frazzled by this point. “Hi. I am here for my dress,” I told her as she asked me my name. “Trina James.”

Her tired brown eyes searched the paper on her clipboard, and she glanced up at me and pointed to the corner of the room. “Over there, number fifteen. There’s a place to change right there.”

“Thanks,” I told her as I smiled and turned to search the room with my eyes. The little curtained off areas weren’t the best conditions for getting some of the clothing that I’d worn on, but it was the nature of these events. I walked over to the spot where my dress was hung and stepped inside of the thin blue material as the noise level increased around me. I was quick to slide it on, and I made sure that it was covering everything before I stepped out, thought it was cut in such a way that it showed off all of my curves. I looked in the mirror and slipped my feet into the Louboutin heels that brought me from five foot nine to over six feet tall.

I needed some quiet, so I left the room to put on the black choker and earrings in the hallway as I reminded myself to never take a job like this again. Models were hard to deal with on a smaller scale, and this was chaos. I walked over to where we’d be entering the stage area, early enough to be on my own and find a seat as I prepped myself for this. These things were always bright lights and loud music, usually with a rambunctious audience that was drunk from the cocktails and little food they’d eaten over the dinner they paid top dollar for. I smoothed my hands over the top that was tied around my neck and cut daringly with a good tease of my cleavage. I knew not to mess with my face or press my lips together from the near ten years of experience that I’d gained, but I was nervous about this evening. I wasn’t sure just why, but my stomach fluttered as I heard other models approaching.

They were all dressed up in revealing dresses of various colors, and I had to admit that the designer had a good style about her. I’d opted to wear only one and be out of there since I wasn’t fond of the quick changes and Monica had grudgingly agreed. I might stick around in the back and check out some of the other clothes, but that was my limit. I wasn’t getting paid for this.





CHAPTER 2