Dangerous Curves 2: The Good Girl (A Billionaire and BBW erotica romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

surprisingly gentle kiss on my lips.
    I savored the kiss, enjoying the tender feel of his lips on mine. As he pulled away, he ran his fingers lightly through my hair.
    “You look beautiful tonight.”
    “Thank you,” I instinctively found my hands reaching down to smooth out my dress, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that it had not wrinkled or bunched up in any discernable fashion; it looked as perfect now as it did when I first put it on.
    “ Thank you for coming,” Nick said. And then, before I could respond, he added, “Mind if I drive?” I handed him the key.
    I was feeling slightly anxious. Just being in his presence always made me feel a bit shy. It was a feeling that would wear off as the night progressed, but initially, I always felt nervous and awk ward when we met.
    Nick brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “ I’m glad you found my present,” he said. His eyes scanned the length of my body, drinking me in.
    “Not as glad as I was,” I told him. I didn’t add on the embarrassing fact that before changing into this expensive cocktail dress, I’d been wearing an outfit that came from Old Navy’s extended sizes selection.
    “That dress suits you perfectly, Violet. When I had it custom made all I could think of was how beautiful you’d look in it. I must say, the real thing surpasses my expectations.”
    So he’d had the dress custom made. That was why there were no tags in it. I tried to push aside the mental image of Nick giving some designer my measurements (How would he know those, anyway? I didn’t even know my own measurements!) and said, “I’ve never owned a custom gown before.”
    “I have all my clothes custom made,” Nick said. “You will, too, now that you’re wi th me.”
    I blinked in surprise. Now that you’re with me? Did that mean what I thought it meant? Or did it mean more? Because what I thought it meant was, ‘Now that you’re with me for thirty days,’ but offering someone the use of a custom tailor for only a few weeks seemed a little strange. Then again, Nick was known for his whims, just as much as he was known for his extravagances. And while I found it hard to believe that someone would go “all-in” for a relationship that was only meant to last for one month, I knew Nicholas Colby and I didn’t think the same way on such things.
    There was a reason the press referred to him as “a young George Clooney.” And it wasn’t just because of his looks and charisma. It was because Nick was known, like Clooney, to sweep a woman off her feet, make her his everything, his entire world, and then let her go at the drop of a hat – immediately moving on to someone new.
    It was a thought I tried to keep myself from dwelling on, but at times it was impossible. Just a quick Google search of Nicholas Colby (and, yes, I will sadly admit now that I have done that) will turn up photos of him on the arms of half a dozen supermodels. It’s a tough thing to compete with, and an even tougher thing to understand.
    Despite being forthcoming in a number of areas, Nick was also maddeningly elusive.
    Oh, God, how I wished I could read him!
    I had never been more confused by any man in all my life.
    “Make yourself comfortable,” Nick said, opening the passenger’s side door, and leading me into the car.. “I’ll take care of the bags.”
    “Do you need any help?” I asked.
    “No, I’ve got them.”
    He shut the door behind me and went around to place his bags in the trunk. A few moments later, we were pulling out of Teterboro and heading back toward Manhattan.
    Nick expertly maneuvered th e Maserati through the crushing traffic.
    “How did you like driving?” he asked.
    “It was awesome,” I told him, grinning from ear to ear.
    “That’s not something I could ask of too many New Yorkers,” Nick laughed. “Most of them don’t even know where to find the ignition switch.”
    I laughed. “I’m not a New Yorker.”
    “You’ve lived here three years. I’d