Lush Curves 4: Overboard (A BBW Erotic Romance) Read online

  Lush Curves 4: Overboard (A BBW Erotic Romance)

  By Delilah Fawkes

  Aolani

  I hadn’t spoken to Gavin Fletcher in three days. Not since I confronted him with that gold ring he kept hidden away. Not since he’d refused to answer whether or not he was married. Not since I’d cried myself to sleep, cursing him into my pillow, instead of being held in his arms like I’d wanted.

  Not since he’d broken my trust, and, if I was being honest with myself, my heart.

  Because as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew now that I was falling for him. That I had fallen for him, not that it mattered now. Why wouldn’t he answer me unless he really was married? It was just too insane. I hated myself for letting this ever happen.

  Aolani, good girl and work place professional, had fucked her married boss, and now the consequences of her carelessness were crashing down upon her.

  Grandma would be so proud.

  It made me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

  Since that night, Gavin and I had remained cordial, but silent, moving around one another like a carefully choreographed dance. When he was making breakfast, I was out on the porch, enjoying the ocean view. When I was getting ready for a shoot, he was off taking care of some shareholder business in his study. When we celebrated at night, he was with the yacht crew, and I was spending time with Sandra and Thomas, picking their brains about the photography industry.

  If people knew we were avoiding one another, no one said anything, and for that, I was extremely grateful, although secretly, I worried about my job. Was he reviewing the pictures we’d taken in the jungle? What about the shoot in the waves? Did he like where his campaign was going? Or would this fight, this whole stupid affair, make him hold a grudge against me? Against my work?

  The last thing I needed was to piss off the CEO of the campaign I was working on. All I wanted was a shot—a chance to network with people who could make my dream of owning my own photography studio a reality. And if my lack of self control ruined that opportunity, I knew I could never forgive myself.

  Thomas was using my ideas for every shoot since the first one in the mud, and I knew my name would be mentioned when the campaign was shown to the investors. But an angry CEO could change all of that, could snatch my dream away from me before it even became a reality. Just as easily as he fired that model the day he hired me, I could be ruined.

  Gavin Fletcher’s warm laugh and hazel eyes couldn’t quite conceal the coldness in times like those, or the sharp bite to his words when I’d confronted him. I was realizing more and more that as much as I thought I knew about him, from lying in his arms, from kissing and loving him… I didn’t really know him at all.

  He was a stranger. And now he was a stranger who could destroy everything, because of my indiscretion.

  ***

  I stood at the bow of the yacht now, trying to calm my breathing and stuff down the panic that was always close to boiling over. We were setting sail out of the bay now, headed for Scotland—a two week journey at sea. I’d be trapped with Gavin, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. The yacht wasn’t like his island mansion. There were only so many places you could go to avoid someone.

  “Smile, Aolani!”

  I turned around just in time to see Thomas waving at me from behind a tripod. Smiling was the last thing I felt like doing, but if I couldn’t stay friendly with the camera crew, at least, this whole thing was worse than pointless.

  I grinned and ran my hands through my hair. He snapped away as the waves broke behind me, sea salt spraying all around me. The wind whipped my hair around, despite my best attempts to hold it down, my I laughed when I saw the excited look on the photographer’s face.

  “Excellent!” He straightened up and flashed me a smile. “Gotta love these journey shots. They’re what’s going to round everything out. Make this whole thing something special.”

  I nodded and turned back to the ocean. The campaign slogan flashed across my mind. Live beautifully… If this was what they meant by that, if this was what it felt like to live beautifully, then I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it, despite the luxury around me. I didn’t belong in a place where I could get myself into such terrible messes.

  I’d definitely never imagined such a fucked up situation when I dreamed of my big break out into the field back in college. I just wondered what being cooped up would be like, and if the problem would go away, or if the close quarters would make the tension between Gavin and I explode like a powder keg.

  I remembered my Grandma praying with me back on the island, her wrinkled lips moving in the light from the sunset over my bed. It had been years since I’d prayed, but if any time felt right, it was this one. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

  God, please, if you’re listening, find it in your heart to cut me some slack. So, I slept with the boss, and it turns out he’s married. I swear I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea. Please don’t ruin my life because of this mistake… Please make it all work out in the end.

  The spray misted my face as I stared out over the horizon. Here I was, beginning what should have been the journey of a lifetime.

  So why did it feel like it was the beginning of the end?

  ***

  Gavin

  It felt good to be at sea again, despite the tension on board The Fiona. I’d watched the island pull away from the port hole in my cabin, too cowardly to go up on deck and see her there, the sunlight making her skin glow, the ocean air caressing that beautiful black hair. Too stubborn to make it right. To end it properly. To let her know I couldn’t give my heart away, no matter how amazing these last few days had been.

  That I’d made a promise, and I intended to keep it, no matter how much it made me ache inside.

  A man who only kept faith when it was easy was no man at all. It was when it was hard that your mettle was truly tested. This was my test, was all. A beautiful, brilliant woman, here to break down my resolve. To put my promise through the fire.

  Despite my resolve, I’d hidden away, only emerging to cook for the crew, laughing and talking like I hadn’t a care in the world. I was their leader, after all. I couldn’t let my personal failings, my doubts and fucks ups, affect them. The campaign was the most important thing now, and I had responsibilities. I couldn’t forget that, even for one moment. The crew deserved better.

  Now, after a dinner where I’d caught Aolani glancing my way and then back down to her plate, I sat in my top deck hot tub, alone, watching the stars and letting the soothing hum of the engines melt my tension away.

  What was it about her that made me act so foolishly? I felt out of control around her, helpless every time I saw her beautiful body laid out before me, but was that the only reason? Just lust and lust alone?

  I remembered just days ago where we’d lain in the mud together, after I’d thrown her down and taken her like some sort of Neanderthal. I’d joked that she’d made me into a beast. But was that really true? Was I just thinking with my cock like an animal? Or was there more to this attraction that was making my life a bloody torment?

  I thought of the day I’d hired her. How just a day later I’d taken her completely out of her comfort zone and forced her to wear a bikini. How that flash of fear in her eyes when she’d tried to laugh about it changed to determination on the deck of the yacht. How she threw herself into it, despite her hesitation… despite her worries.

  I remembered the way she seemed to soften when she talked about her cousin and life back in Hawaii. The way her sharp wit never failed to draw a laugh or a smile out of me, when I’d been so reserved for so long. Not even my own brothers had don
e that for me, even though we were still thick as thieves. She was the one to bring laughter to my lips again after what felt like a long time alone in the dark.

  I remembered the way she’d closed her eyes for that shoot in the jungle, like she was putting all of her doubt and insecurity far, far away, steeling herself to do the best possible job even if she was afraid. How fucking brave she was about all of this, when she’d revealed how vulnerable she could be to me that night on the yacht.

  The night when I’d opened her robe up and shown her how goddamn beautiful she is, when I made her see herself the way I see her. Then the way her hesitation had been replaced by a wildness only matched by my own. The way she lost herself when I was inside of her, totally unfettered, a wanton, uninhibited tigress that made my body ache just thinking about her.

  The way she’d run her nails down my back and arched beneath me, taking all I had to give her, and holding nothing back…

  “What are you doing out here so late?”

  Sandra’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I swigged the Scotch I held in my hand, my elbows draped over the edge of the spa.

  “I don’t know,” Aolani said.

  I sat up, the tub water splashing. I swore under my breath, hoping the women below hadn’t heard me.

  “I just needed to get some air.”

  From the sound of their voices, they were on deck right below me.

  “You’ve seemed a little preoccupied. Want to talk about it? Warning, though. I’m a little drunk, so you may have to speak slowly.”

  The sound of Aolani’s laugh made my dick stir automatically. God, dammit, but I couldn’t get my head on straight when it came to this woman.

  “The boss doesn’t scrimp on the bar, does he?”

  They both laughed easily then, for a moment, silence fell.

  “I guess… It’s… I’m just wondering, really. Do you know why Gavin doesn’t wear his ring?”

  I swallowed hard, and then tipped the Scotch to my lips and drank deeply. I shouldn’t be listening to this, but then again… it was my yacht. I wasn’t violating anyone’s sacred space to spy. I was just sitting here, enjoying the night air like anyone else. If I happened to overhear something, then so be it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I mean, you know. He’s married, right? I just can’t figure out why he doesn’t wear the ring, you know? It’s not like he’s a construction worker worried about catching it on a saw blade.”

  I heard the slurp of what I assumed was Sandra downing some more wine.

  “What are you even talking about?”

  There was a confused-sounding noise. “What do you mean?”

  “Gavin Fletcher’s not married. Never has been.”

  Another silence fell, this one heavier. Pregnant with possibilities.

  “Oh,” Aolani said.

  A moment stretched between them, and I wished I was a fly on the wall, so I could see her expression.

  “I just assumed, I guess.”

  Aolani laughed, but it sounded strained. Unnatural. Not her usual, easy laughter that made my heart squeeze in my chest.

  “Weird,” Sandra said, and joined her laughter. “Well, my head is freaking spinning. I think I should probably just pass out for the night. Anyway, take care, girlie.”

  “You too,” Aolani said, her voice quiet. “Hey, Sandra, wait…”

  I perked up, waiting on pins and needles to hear what would come next.

  “Don’t forget to drink some water and take some aspirin. Eat a banana if you can find it, too,” she said. “Hangovers suck.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Sandra said, giggling. “’Night.”

  She left, the cabin door slamming shut behind her. Aolani stayed behind, the silence heavy on the deck below. I sat back into the warm water, my mind going a mile a minute.

  What must she think about me? What’s going through her mind right now?

  We both sat, sharing the darkness, only feet away, although at the moment, it felt like miles.

  ***

  Aolani

  The next morning, I vowed to talk to Gavin.

  I’d spent another hour on deck, my mind wandering around in circles. Why wouldn’t he tell me he wasn’t married? And what was the deal with the ring if he wasn’t? He’d gotten so angry…

  Only one thing was certain. Gavin Fletcher had a secret, but it wasn’t the nightmare deal breaker I’d assumed it was. And the only way to find out what was really going on with him was to ask him. My family has always been straightforward. As Grandma used to say “Passive aggressive bullshit is for other people. We were born on a volcano. We have fire in our blood.”

  I grinned, thinking about her swearing. She always forbade us from doing it, but swore whenever she damn well pleased in her own home. Just thinking about her hardened my resolve. Being direct was the best way. I’d never know unless I built up the courage to ask the question.

  I loaded up on coffee and starting thinking of ways to broach the topic. After all, he couldn’t stay mad forever, right? Especially when I didn’t even know what crime I’d committed by touching that ring?

  The hot liquid soothed my nerves, taking the edge off my anxiety at the thought of talking to my boss again.

  What if I just piss him off even more? What if things go horribly wrong and he fires me?

  But what if he didn’t? What if he instead let me in, let me closer to him? Let me back into the strong circle of his arms?

  I had to take the chance. Aolani Kahale was no coward. I wasn’t raised like that, and I wouldn’t be a disappointment when there was a high road to be taken.

  I had to confront Gavin. There was no other choice.

  ***

  That night, I went to his cabin. His door was ajar, warm light filtering out from his desk side lamp and the flickering, electric fireplace. I raised my hand to knock, but ended up peering inside instead, wondering if I would be interrupting him.

  I saw him facing the port hole, his wide-screen laptop open and glowing. He was hunched over, his gaze intent on his work. I sucked in a breath when I saw what he was studying so intensely. On screen was a photo of me at the shoot on the beach, waves tickling the bottom of my suit.

  He flicked to another picture of me crawling through the surf, then another of me standing at the railing on deck, hair tangling around me, sunglasses kissed by the light of the setting sun.

  When he got to the picture of me in the mud, my bikini top undone, he stopped. He sat back in his chair and sighed, then ran his hands through his hair. I chewed my lip, wondering what I should do. I couldn’t just stand here forever.

  He stared at the picture for another minute or so, as I stood waffling in the doorway. Finally, I couldn’t stand it, and I rapped on the wooden frame.

  “Gavin… May I come in?”

  He sat up in surprise, and closed his laptop before turning to me. He cleared his throat.

  “Of course.”

  His face was unreadable. I stood up a little straighter, and entered the room, closing the door gently behind me. I sat down on the edge of his bed, facing the desk, and tried hard not to fidget.

  “So,” I began. “I… Uh… Were those the shots from Providenciales?”

  He nodded, and ran his hands through his hair again, like I’d caught him doing something naughty.

  “Aye. They’re coming along well.”

  “Good,” I said. I folded my hands on my lap, wondering how to the hell to ask what I came here to ask.

  “Actually,” he said, relaxing into his chair. “They’re more than good, Aolani. They’re bloody excellent.”

  He smiled, and although it didn’t quite meet his eyes, I was ready to take what I could get.

  “Really? I’ve been wondering if you approved of the shoots.”

  “Absolutely. And I know its your influence. Sandra’s been talking you up.”

  I felt the color rising to my cheeks. “Thomas is an amazing photographer.”

  “And y
ou’ve got a great eye. You know what a good shot looks like before it’s taken. That’s a skill you should be proud of.”

  I smiled shyly and looked down at my hands. “Good to know.”

  Silence stretched between us. Finally, I shifted on the bed and met Gavin’s intense, hazel gaze. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly cottony dry.

  “I came here to ask you something, actually.”

  “You’re wondering why I didn’t tell you I’m not married.”

  “No, I’m wondering why you didn’t…” I paused and let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, yes. Exactly. Wow… You’re good.”

  “I overheard you and Sandra the other night.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  He was listening?

  “Listen. I’m sorry for snooping where I didn’t belong. I… I honestly thought your grandfather’s medal might have been in that pouch. I had no idea it was something, um, private.”

  A shadow seemed to pass over Gavin’s face. His eyes seemed far away for a moment, and filled with a sadness so deep it made my heart ache to look at him.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He turned back to me and ran his hands over his jean-clad thighs, as if coming back from the wells of memory. His eyes met mine.

  “Then why, Gavin? Why didn’t you just tell me I was wrong? Why did you let me believe…?”

  He swallowed hard, and for a moment, it looked like he was struggling with himself, trying carefully to choose his words.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Aolani. I really don’t.” He paused, his eyes full of warring emotions. “I’m just not good for you.”

  I stood up, moving closer, longing to touch him, and soothe his worries away. To see him calm again. Happy.

  “I think you’re very good for me.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at me, his expression pained.

  “I don’t think I can give you what you want.” He pushed back his chair and stood, capturing my hand in his. “God dammit, Aolani. Sometimes I feel like only half a man. Part of me is missing, and it won’t ever come back. Do you understand?”