Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
As soon as I reached the lobby I saw a placard with my name, being held by a middle-aged black male in a chauffeur uniform. Wow, whoever this guy is he works fast.
He'd learned my name and had a sign made up in less than half an hour. That sign did not look like it had just been scribbled in with a permanent marker.
“I’m Stephanie Cross.” He seemed surprised when I reached my hand out to shake his but accepted it with a smile all the same.
‘This way ma’am if you’ll follow me.” He extended his hand then turned and headed for the exit.
I ignored the stares as I usually do. If I wasn’t nervously excited about where this evening was going, I might’ve taken the time to read all the expressions on the faces in the lobby as I passed them by.
I’ve already heard every version of bullshit there is when it comes to describing what society calls my plus size figure. From the, ‘but you have such a pretty face’ to what a shame, you could’ve been pretty if only…’
Now that's where my detractors fall short and I rise. Every one of them seem to think that being bigger than a size six means I hate myself and wish to be more like them for the women, or more like their ideal for the men.
Yeah, their conceited ass! Like I’m no longer human with a brain and everything else needed to function. Like because of the size of my ass my life is less than theirs.
But, like I said, I don’t have the time right now. Though I love nothing better than seeing the looks on their faces when I set them straight. I’ve been told by quite a few people that once I open my mouth no one really remembers my size. Still not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment, but I like the sound of it anyway.
Outside the chauffeur led me to the rear door of a stretch limo which he opened and stepped aside to let me in. My heart did one of those cute little girl things when I ducked my head inside to see the car’s occupant.
Somehow in the back of my mind, I knew it was going to be him. Maybe that's what my little show had been about all along, no matter what I told myself.
When I’d seen his face in the crowd of duds, I’d latched on. Playing a little game of make believe in my head. That’s just something I do when I’m out and about and find myself in a less than ideal situation.
Like showing my ass in a crowd of strangers. But, it was for a good cause, well three really. One, raising money for kids who needed it, two, getting my designer lingerie in front of the right people and three, helping a friend out of a bind.
It was because of those three things, along with a few shots of tequila that I was here this evening. And the music hadn’t helped.
I don’t know what it is about certain songs that make me feel like a super woman. Like I can do anything and do it with perfection no less.
So when I’d seen his face, that handsome mug with the eyes that said, I’m it and I know it. I couldn’t help vamping it up. What was the harm? It’s not like I was ever going to see him again right.
And it didn’t hurt that he just kept getting hotter in my little fantasy of make believe. I’d already had him stripped and bound for my pleasure by the time I blew him that kiss.
I wasn’t feeling so sure of myself now though. It wasn’t because it was the pretty boy from the audience, no, it was the look in his eyes when he looked at me. Oh freaking hell!
I think my panties just melted right off. Now would be a good time for me to make my excuses and hightail it out of here. But somehow I couldn’t think of the right words to say. Maybe if he blinks and release me from his spell. Think Stephanie. You’re the one always being praised for coming up with the best ideas in a cinch. Nothing!
I don’t know how long I stood there, well bent mostly. It felt like a long time but I’m sure it was just seconds. Seconds that dragged on as I asked myself just what the hell I had gotten myself into.
I usually go for the boyish type, or they usually go for me. The ones that are looking for a mom away from home. I don’t know why that is, since in my fantasies all my men are powerfully sexy alpha males who take charge of me in every way. Oh hell!