XXL: A GrumpySunshine Curvy Girl Romance by Kate Hunt

Author:Kate Hunt [Hunt, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

The following day, I walk into the living room to find Violet bent over, her plump ass pushed up in the air as she wipes cleaner off the lower half of a window pane.

I shouldn’t stare at her like this. I shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like to grasp that voluptuous backside as I plunge my cock into her. It’s so fucking wrong.

I clear my throat. “Violet.”

When she straightens up, her cheeks are flushed from bending over. She smiles as she smooths down her top. The fabric is the slightest bit sheer, revealing the outline of her bra.

“Maverick,” she says warmly. “Hi.”

“I wanted to make sure the transfer went through without any issues,” I say.

She nods. “As soon as it came through, I transferred the money into my mom’s account, and she’s going to make the payment today. Thank you so, so much. My mom is extremely grateful for it, too.”

The way she’s looking at me right now is almost as bad as when she hugged me yesterday. Why do I have to be so fucking consumed by her? Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful, so goddamn radiant?

“It’s just money,” I say.

The brightness vanishes from her face. “Yes. It is ‘just money.’ But it really sucks when you don’t have enough.”

Fuck. There I go again, being an asshole.

“What I meant is that you shouldn’t feel like you put me out,” I say. “All I did was tell Carol to transfer the funds.”

“I understand,” she says, but it’s obvious she’s still annoyed at my callous remark. She turns back to the window and spritzes more cleaner on the pane.

I could leave then. I could just walk away. But I find myself opening my damn mouth again.

“I do know what it’s like to struggle to get by, Violet. I didn’t inherit my wealth.”

“Oh?” she says, but doesn’t turn around. She just continues with her task, wiping off the cleaner, her hand moving in steady counter-clockwise circles.

Goddamn it. I don’t want to get into all of this.

“My old man was a selfish prick who left when my brother and I were young and never paid a penny in child support,” I tell her, the words bitter on my tongue. “Our mom tried to do her best, but she turned to alcohol to cope, and it just got worse and worse. I learned early on to never count on there being food in the fridge.”

So many years have passed since those days of my youth, but when I talk about it, the hunger pains come right back. The body remembers, I guess. Which is why I fucking hate talking about it.

“All the stuff that kids should grow up with—holidays, birthday parties, clothes that actually fit—my brother and I didn’t have any of that,” I go on, even though I don’t know why I’m still talking. “So, yeah. I know what it’s like to not have enough.”

Violet is facing me now, the towel and the bottle of cleaner held low at her side.

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