Sweet Bubble Ride - Roxanne: a BBW Romance (Curvesome Book 1) Read online

  SWEET

  BUBBLE RIDE

  -ROXANNE-

  Curvy woman romance

  By

  LULA WOODS

  Sweet Bubble Ride - Roxanne © 2019 by Lula Woods.

  All Rights Reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.

  Cover designed by Lula Woods.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

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  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

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  Chapter One

  Roxanne

  “No, no, no.”

  I had a meeting with a brand-new client in five minutes, and I couldn’t find the file with all my notes. I suppose it would help if I cleaned off my desk every once in a while, but I never seemed to find the time since there was always a meeting to attend or clients to woo. And I secretly liked my stacks of paper. They were comforting in their disorder. Almost like my life. Thankfully, I used one of the small conference rooms in the office for meetings. I might scare away clients if they ever saw this mess.

  I flipped through a pile of folders—nothing. Geez. I knew better. I should have put the damn thing next to my keyboard instead of adding to the leaning towers of chaos in front of me. Finally, I located the bright yellow folder—seriously, how could I miss that color? It had been under a stack of spreadsheet printouts that were…six months old, according to the date. Okay, maybe my staff had a point about clutter and Feng Shui.

  My only excuse was that I was always short on time, and I worked twelve-hour days if I was lucky. Owning a boutique marketing firm was hectic, but a dream come true, and I loved it, even when the work made me crazy. My company catered to small and some medium-sized businesses to manage everything from branding and sales campaigns to presentations and proposals. My favorite campaigns had to do with anything related to being plus-sized, like me.

  I had struggled with my weight since childhood, and it didn’t help that everyone else in my family was my complete opposite. I was short to their tall, big to their small. I wished I could say that they were supportive, but no. I got looks of disappointment from my parents every day and fat jokes from my older twin brothers until they left for college, which was a relief. I was mostly the child no one wanted. Hell, my middle sister didn’t even acknowledge my existence, unless she needed me to pass the salt at the dinner table. I was the youngest.

  It was worse at school, and the teasing had almost gotten the better of me with the taunts and the nasty notes on my locker, the mean stuff on social media. I felt like a pariah like I was defective. Why couldn’t I fit in? It hurt. A lot. But I was smart, and I knew the only way out of that hell was to ace my grades.

  When I got a full scholarship to university thousands of miles across the frickin’ country, I left home and never looked back. On my first day there, I met my two roommates and almost cried. They were big, curvy girls, too, and they were friendly and cool, and it was so awesome. We were inseparable and supported each other. Getting to know Danita, an African American girl, and Gabriella, who was of Mexican descent, made me realize that the problem was never me. I was just fine as I was, and the haters, be damned. Because of my best friends in the world, I learned to embrace my size and love myself. I was me, with no apologies.

  Every now and then, I would feel insecure because of a bad date or the thoughtless things people said sometimes. But my besties were always there, and eventually, I would bounce back.

  I sat at my desk with the notes for my meeting with Mason Kilpatrick, along with a contract for him to sign. He had been referred to me by a client. We had exchanged emails regarding his business campaign for custom athletic footwear, and I had sent him a preliminary proposal. Today, he would hopefully sign a contract, and we would get started on the specifics of his campaign.

  His name was vaguely familiar, for some reason. I attended a lot of networking events, including the super-boring chamber of commerce luncheons. So, we might have had crossed paths. I would know soon, anyway. I looked at the clock on my monitor. Yikes! Two minutes.

  I stood and took the folder with me as I left the office, and almost ran into Justina, my office manager, as I turned the corner. “Your ten o’clock is here,” she said, with a grin that spoke of mischief. Uh-oh.

  “When you smile like that, I worry,” I replied.

  “Let’s just say he’s something to behold. Henrietta almost choked on her chai latte when he walked in.”

  “One of those, huh?” Eh. I’d met my share of hot men, most of whom were asses of the highest order. Some had been sweet, though, but they tended to be in relationships. Bastards.

  “Yup. Prepare yourself. I need to find some eucalyptus oil to wave under Henrietta’s nose since she just about collapsed in her chair after I directed him down the hall to the conference room.”

  “Uh, thanks?” What on earth was I about to encounter?

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Good luck!” Justina disappeared into the nearby kitchen, and I continued toward my destination. Mason Kilpatrick couldn’t be that hot, surely?

  I knocked on the open door to announce my arrival before closing it behind me. Mr. Kilpatrick stood at the window, his back to the room, with one hand in his pants pocket and the other holding a folder similar to mine. His was blue.

  Wow. Um, wow. Okay, hot didn’t do him justice. Even from the back, I could tell the man was built. And tall. I would likely only reach his shoulder if that. The dark green long-sleeved shirt he wore fitted him too well for my peace of mind. And his ass. Mama. Okay, I needed to calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. This man was a soon-to-be client. No, I couldn’t grab his butt to see how firm it was. But I really, really wanted to. Just how tight were those pants, anyway?

  Suddenly, he turned to face me, and I could feel my cheeks flush because my eyes had been glued to his ass, and now they were zeroed in on his crotch. Classy, Roxanne, very classy. I closed my eyes for a moment in mortification and opened them to stare into gray eyes that seemed amused, but not in a mean way. Saying Mason Kilpatrick was gorgeous was an understatement. No wonder Henrietta had just about passed out. This was a lot of man to take in, though he didn’t give off that arrogant air that men who looked like him often did, in my experience.

  His slightly crooked nose just added to his sheer “good God, almighty” qualities, and his black hair was cut in a trendy style that suited his perfectly, ridiculously handsome face. How could so much hotness be allowed in one person? Wasn’t that illegal or something?

  I tried to save face by being very professional. Moving forward, handheld out in greeting, I said, “Mr. Kilpatrick? Roxanne Blackstone. Call me Roxanne. Or Roxy. Well, you know, whatever. Um, yeah.” Okay, I needed to shut up now. Babbling in front of a future client and the sex
iest man in existence was not a good impression to make. I shook his hand, loving his warmth and the mild callouses I could feel on his palm. I fleetingly wondered what they would feel like on my skin. Jesus.

  His smile was friendly and kind. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, Roxanne, and you can call me Mason.” Okay, yeah. His voice? Perfect. Deep and raspy, the kind of sinful that made panties wet with just one word. His grip was firm, and he held onto my hand a little bit longer before slowly letting go, almost as though we were having a moment. But I was likely dreaming that part.

  I gestured to the chairs at the table, and he took a seat across from me. The chair creaked as he sat, and he set the folder aside before leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. His sleeves were rolled up, so I could see the hair on his lightly tanned skin and the prominent veins. I wanted to run my fingers over each one. His cologne was light and smelled like pine trees, and mixed well with his natural scent, making my head spin.

  How was I ever going to make it through this meeting?

  Chapter Two

  Mason

  Calm. I needed to be calm.

  Roxanne Blackstone was a gorgeous woman, and I had already made a fool of myself by holding onto her hand like a lovesick idiot. Though to be fair, I had caught her staring at my ass, so I thought we were even. It gave me hope that maybe, the lust wasn’t one-sided. Touching her soft skin made me want to explore her body from head to toe. And she smelled like citrus, one of my favorite scents.

  Her picture on the website was charming but in person? The woman was lethal, and I wanted her. Badly. Her dark brown hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders and back, making me want to twine the strands around my fingers. Or grab hold while we did dirty, dirty things to each other. Her light-brown eyes were expressive, and I knew she was embarrassed about being caught staring. If she only knew! And that bright red lipstick just made me want to lick her lips repeatedly. I wanted to know how they would look around my cock as I fucked her mouth.

  She wore a dark purple, V-necked silk blouse that dipped just low enough for a brief glimpse of the cleft between her generous breasts, and I really wanted to lick her nipples right now. Before we sat at the table, I had noticed she wore a white, knee-length skirt that hugged ample hips. I wanted to grip hard as she rode me or the other way around. And those purple strappy heels were sexy as fuck.

  God, I could feel myself getting hard, and I had chosen the wrong pants to wear to this meeting, wanting to impress her. They were a little tighter than what I usually wore, and I knew they fit me well, but I had seriously underestimated the effect Roxanne would have on me. I hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself, but I didn’t have a prayer of hiding her impact on me right now if I had to stand up anytime soon.

  I had wanted to meet Roxanne Blackstone in person for months since I had glimpsed her at a few chambers of commerce functions as I networked and built connections for my company. She was very outgoing and dressed to accentuate her curves, making her a total knockout. I had been attracted to her physically, but then I had heard her speak about marketing at one of the networking events hosted by the chamber, and I had fallen in love. Beautiful, smart, and confident. I was powerless to resist her passion. I even followed her blog on her company’s website—ok, I stalked her, let’s be real—and had used the many marketing tips and tricks she provided for my own business.

  Sitting across from her made it hard to be professional. Okay, maybe hard wasn’t the best word to use right now. My long legs brushed hers occasionally, and it was sheer torture. I cleared my throat and tried to steer my thoughts toward business. Focus, man.

  “Thanks for meeting with me today, Roxanne. I know you have a busy schedule, so I appreciate it.”

  “It was no problem,” she replied with a sweet smile before opening the file folder she’d brought in with her. “Any questions or additions regarding the work you’d like us to do for you? I’m happy to accommodate you. Whatever you need.” Oh, how I wished that were true.

  “No, no questions. I’m ready to sign and get started.”

  She grinned. “I’m so happy to hear that! I love your product line, and I think we can do a lot to help you meet your goals.” Her energy was infectious. “Here’s the contract.” She handed me four sheets of paper with stickers on the applicable lines for my signature. “Please read it over and let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Thank you.” I tried not to be distracted by her dimpled smile and the way her blouse accentuated the curve of her breasts. Business. This was business. If I kept telling myself that, maybe I wouldn’t end up coming on to her like a sex-starved moron.

  I took my time reviewing the paperwork, not just because I wanted to make sure everything was in order, but I needed to spend more time in her company, even if this only added ten extra minutes. I made sure to accidentally on purpose touch her legs whenever I shifted in my seat, and I could hear her breath catch, which she covered by clearing her throat. What would it be like to make her completely breathless and at my mercy?

  I needed to stop thinking like that because my dick was still super-interested in the hot woman in front of me, and I had to be able to walk out of this office without embarrassing her or myself. So, I thought of dead chickens and roadkill, anything that would soften my penis. Eventually, it worked. I finished my review and signed the contract in all the right spots and handed it over.

  “I can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’m really excited to start promoting my company’s products on a larger scale,” I said. “It’s something that means a lot to me, and I want to step things up a bit.”

  “We can help you do that,” she replied, gathering the documents and placing them in her own folder. Her bright red nail polish matched her lipstick. Shit, I was getting hard again. “I’ll sign the contract as well and send you a copy by email today.” Setting the folder aside, she folded her hands on the table and asked, “While you’re here, tell me a little bit more about the target market for the custom athletic shoes. Young, old?”

  “Age doesn’t matter,” I replied. “In fact, I want the marketing, images, and general message to be inclusive. We make custom sneakers for whoever wants or needs them, no matter their size, athletic ability, or able-bodied status. The sneakers fit the person, not the other way around. There is something for everyone, and I want that to be front and center in the campaign.”

  “I love that!” Roxanne said. “Inclusion is a big part of what we do here, perhaps the biggest.”

  “Yes, I know. When you gave that speech at the chamber meeting three months ago, I was drawn in by your passion. It’s one of the main reasons why I chose your firm. You believe in inclusivity, and that’s what we’re selling.”

  The blush on her face was rosy. “Thank you. Oh wait, is that why you look familiar? I wondered if we had met or passed each other at a networking function or something.”

  “I’ve seen you at meetings a few times, and like I said, I loved your presentation that day. Made the chamber meeting less stodgy.”

  Roxanne laughed. “You, too? I thought I was the only one who was bored out of their minds at these meetings. I mean, I know they’re trying to be middle of the road, but a little adventure, like green olives in a salad instead of black, would be nice sometimes, too.”

  I chuckled. “Nope, you’re not alone.” I felt my pocket buzz and took out my cell phone, though it was a challenge. Note to self, keep the phone out of pocket for the rest of the day. And wear looser pants. I looked at the screen and saw the reminder for my next meeting half an hour away. I set the phone on the table. “Sorry I have to go. Another meeting across town. You know how it is.”

  She nodded and smiled, though she looked a little disappointed. Hell, I was, too. I wanted to learn more about Roxanne, what made her tick, how she tasted. “Like I said, I’ll get the contract to you and come up with some preliminary ideas for a campaign in a few days.”

  That gave me an idea. “What do you think abou
t meeting over lunch—or dinner—to discuss what you come up with? We can meet somewhere close by.” Was that too forward? I hoped not.

  Her eyes grew wide. “Really? You…you want to have dinner with me?” Then she stopped. “I mean, yes, that’s a great idea.” I thought I heard her mumble something like, “don’t be an idiot.” God, she was adorable.

  I smiled. Those red cheeks were charming. “Absolutely. We can discuss the campaign and maybe get to know each other better, learn how we’ll work together, what makes us tick.” See what I did there? Smooth, right?

  “Um, sure. No problem. Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Send me an email with your availability, or you can text me. You have my number, right?”

  “I do.” I grabbed my file folder and stood, trying not to ogle her as she mirrored my actions. She was one fine woman. Okay, eyes above her chest. Be good. “Thanks again, Roxanne, and I look forward to working with you.”

  “Me, too,” she replied.