Curves by Tessa Vidal

Author:Tessa Vidal [Vidal, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: lesbian romance, lesbian fiction, steamy lesbian romance, bbw lesbian romance, spicy lesbian romance, enemies to lovers romance, office romance, lesbian office romance, workplace romance, lesbian rivals romance
Publisher: Lovebird Press
Published: 2019-09-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Sara

“I can’t believe you can cook. No one in New York City cooks.” As I sat there, waiting for our brunch, I also couldn’t believe we finally made it out of bed. My limbs were weak and I was happier than I’d been in a long time. Too happy. I shoved away the nagging doubt that something would grab this away from me at any moment.

Instead, I chose to dwell in the sense of liberation and excitement still rushing through me. No one had ever made me as comfortable in my own skin as Dylan did. She’d worshipped me from head to toe, and back again, and then dominated me with demands to do the same for her. Without even realizing it, she’d brought every single one of my fantasies to life in just one night. No woman would be able to do that for me ever again.

“Someone has to cook or none of us would eat,” she pointed out. “I try to have at least some life skills. By the way, I think Jennifer’s waxer did a fine job down there. I’m sure it feels better, by now.”

It felt more than better after hours of her expert sexual attention. I could learn to love the pain of a Brazilian for the night of pleasure that followed.

Dylan placed two plates piled high with food on the table and I stared in shock. She’d served scrambled eggs with chopped bell peppers, home fries, and bacon, along with two rectangles of buttered toast. I gave Dylan a mock-glare when she sat across from me.

“Why are you so perfect?”

She shrugged and picked up her fork. “Because I hate being compared to anyone else. If New Yorkers only know how to order take-out, then I don’t want to live down to the stereotype. Or any stereotype.”

I blew out a breath. Goodness knew she’d shattered my stereotypes about her: terminal bachelorette, playgirl, all about getting another notch on her bedpost. She’d given me an incredible night. I hadn’t expected Dylan to make the sex all about me, but she did just that. Even when she was on top of me while I ate her out, demanding I pleasure her, it felt like she was the one doing all the giving.

Women like Dylan didn’t put themselves in a vulnerable position like that. Maybe they did and masked it as dominance, but with her the mask had slipped. I saw everything, and she didn’t seem afraid to share it. My body sagged with contentment and I knew I needed to fuel up if I was going to make it home later.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward as we ate, but sweet. Every so often, we would exchange a glance. I couldn’t stop myself from giggling a couple times. This was ridiculous in the best possible way.

When the plates were in the dishwasher, she stretched and said, “I’m going to shower.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” I watched her go, her form even more appealing in the boxer shorts and tank top she wore, and then looked down at my own body.

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