Raw and Curvy by S.E. Law
7
Mimi
Staring at myself in the mirror, I can’t stop smiling as I think about this past week. After Jewel gave me my walking papers, I figured I was about to face some of the most depressing days of my adult life while I desperately searched for a new job. Instead, I’ve spent the past week in the most beautiful penthouse with an incredible man, being cosseted and caressed.
Images of our first night together in his suite at the Wilshire pop into my head, and I bring my hand to my chest, massaging my suddenly hot skin. Mason certainly knows how to make a woman scream in the best way possible, but everything about this man has been a surprise. For example, I never expected him to hold me all night as we slept, as if we were long-established lovers.
Not only that, but the next morning, he woke me up with breakfast in bed. The eggs and pancakes were so good, and I almost choked when he revealed he’d made them himself, instead of ordering from room service. While he was clapping me on the back, the handsome man grinned.
“So do you want to come with me to the city today?”
I took another sip of orange juice, still trying to get down the last bite of pancake.
“I’m sorry?”
He shrugged and smiled.
“I’ve got to get back to the city for work, but do you want to come with, sweetheart? It’ll be fun, and you’ll have plenty of time to relax and pamper yourself. Take some shopping trips and go to the spa. Manhattan has some of the best ones out there.”
I stared at him with big eyes because I don’t have money for spa treatments, much less a shopping trip. But I agreed to accompany him into the city because what the hell? I had just lost my job and had zero prospects for a new one, so why not? It didn’t hurt that the handsome man used his very talented mouth to help persuade me.
But Mason’s penthouse in the city blew me away. I thought the suite at the Wilshire was grand, but his apartment is out of this world. Currently, I’m in one of the six bedrooms in his Madison Park apartment, and it’s probably 10,000 square feet on three different levels. Every detail is luxurious, all the way from the huge outdoor terrace that can become an indoor terrace with the press of a button which makes glass walls slide into place, to the dunk pool and outdoor dining space, which has a beautiful view of the Empire State Building.
Even more, I’ve been here for a week now, and it’s amazing. Mason and I have spent every night together in his bed and the heat is fabulous. But honestly, Mason is more than a generous lover. He always makes sure he takes great care of me even after the hot times. In fact, sometimes it’s the way he so lovingly strokes me after we’re done that makes me the happiest. He’s gentle and tender, and breathes compliments that make my heart bloom.
Plus, the man has been spoiling me silly. He had a dozen outfits delivered today from a fancy boutique, and has funded several shopping sprees already. But now, it’s time to put those purchases to work. Taking one more look in the mirror, I check to make sure my makeup is perfect. I’ve decided to be subtle because being a showgirl means caking on the cosmetics, and it’s so refreshing to feel like I can let my own beauty show instead of using pounds of foundation per usual. Plus, using bobby pins, I sweep the sides of my hair back to tuck the locks behind my ears, and scrunch the curls so that they’re defined, yet also soft and shiny.
Then I make my way over to the rack of new dresses Mason had sent over. OMG, they’re so sexy, with form-hugging materials and scandalous cut-outs. None of the dresses are at all forgiving, but you know what? Screw Jewel. I never felt bad about my body before she very publicly made a show of body-shaming me. Now, I’m going to give myself a bit of a break and flaunt my curves, since this is obviously what my lover wants.
There’s one dress in particular that catches my eye. The item is a black cocktail number, but in the light it has a subtle shimmer that makes it glow. It’s low-cut, but not so revealing that it’s scandalous, and there’s a thigh-high slit that’s sexy but also becoming. I look through my selection of lingerie and locate a strapless push-up bra, and then squeeze into the entire outfit before walking over to the mirror.
A gasp escapes my lips. The dress hugs my curves, but it doesn’t make me feel heavy; instead, I feel very womanly and feminine. It might have something to do with how the sweetheart neckline makes my décolletage look amazing, or it might be the subtle shimmer, helping bring attention to my luscious hills and valleys. Either way, this is definitely the outfit for tonight.
Then, I rummage around the closet and find a stunning pair of high-gloss black stilettos. But when I check the clock, it’s only a few minutes until six, so I finish getting dressed quickly and make my way to the kitchen to wait for my date. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man I’m really interested in, and seeing Mason always makes my heart melt.
There’s the snick of a key in the lock and the door opens, but I don’t turn around. I can hear the alpha male’s footsteps as he moves near, closing the distance between us, and I wait until I can tell he’s almost right behind me to turn around.
Mason’s eyes go wide and the vibrant blue morphs into the deep oceanic color I’ve come to recognize that signals that he’s about to devour me. The gorgeous man’s holding a bouquet of flowers, but he doesn’t offer them to me right away. He’s stock still, other than those dark eyes which rove up and down my body hungrily. I smile, pleased I decided on this dress, even as I blush under the heat of his gaze.
After a couple minutes, when he still hasn’t moved, I decide to break the silence because if he keeps looking at me like that, we might not make it to our date.
“Are those for me?” I giggle, indicating the flowers.
Mason blinks and meets my eyes, and the heat in his stare makes me feel as if my skin is overheating.
“Baby, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he rasps.
Heat floods my body, and I smile. “Thank you, but it’s mostly the dress, and you chose it for me at the store, remember?”
Mason closes the distance between us and puts one hand on my hip. Then, he sits the bouquet on the counter and lifts his other hand, tipping my chin to look into my eyes.
“It isn’t the dress, baby girl. It’s you. You’re gorgeous and that dress wouldn’t look this good on anyone else.”
It feels like my heart has moved into my throat and started doing somersaults. I force a swallow, and find myself unable to answer. Instead, I look over at the flowers.
“You didn’t answer,” I say, and my voice isn’t more than a whisper. “Are those for me?”
Mason watches me, and then his lips break into a grin and I’m glad he’s still got his hand on my hip because my knees go weak. “They were going to be for you, but now that I’ve seen how amazing you look in this outfit, a dozen roses aren’t going to do. I promise to make it up to you.”
I laugh.
“These roses are beautiful, and I don’t need anything else.” Of course, at that exact moment, my stomach decides to grumble loud enough for the world to hear, and I want to crawl inside myself and bury my face in embarrassment. But Mason merely chuckles and gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“Perhaps, after dinner we’ll get you another bouquet,” he says, amusement clear in his voice. Then, he takes my hand and leads me to the elevator before making our way down.
I’m surprised when a black limousine pulls up at the curb. The driver rushes out and greets us, before sweeping open the door with a flourish.
“Sir,” he says. “Madame.”
I giggle at being addressed so formally, but then gasp upon entering the vehicle. This limo is far nicer than the cheap one my friends and I rented for prom during high school. That was more like a stretched-out cab painted black, while this one is like a sleek shark swimming sinuously in the sea of traffic.
“Wow,” I remark, eyeing the vase of flowers and the champagne bucket built into the wall. “So, how fancy is this place we’re going?” I ask.
He shrugs and grins. “The restaurant’s upscale, but more importantly, their food is excellent. They serve the best scallop risotto with truffles in Manhattan.”
I giggle. “It must be pretty high class if we’re pulling up in a limo.”
Mason leans in so his lips are just a breath from mine. “It isn’t this limousine that’s going to be catching people’s attention. Not with you looking so stunning, sweetheart.” Then, he presses his lips to mine, and I close my eyes and wind my arms around his shoulders before melting into that broad chest. He groans, kissing me deeper.
The limo arrives at the destination, and reluctantly, we disentangle ourselves. Then, the valet pulls open the door and Mason scowls at the young man, angry to be interrupted.
“It’s fine,” I whisper with another giggle while covering my mouth. “We’re here for the food, remember?”
Mason turns to me, and pulls my hand away from my face. “Don’t cover your features, Mimi. You’re beautiful when you laugh and I love seeing it.”
Warmth crawls up my cheeks. “Thank you,” I murmur. “You are too. I mean, you’re handsome, not beautiful.” Oh my god. It’s like I’ve forgotten how words work, but Mason doesn’t notice because he sits back and flashes me the biggest smile with a wink.
“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go in and have some dinner so we can see if I can make you like anything else about me other than this ugly mug.”
Laughing, we exit the limo and step up to the restaurant. It’s quite old-fashioned in a luxurious, elegant way. There’s a slight stoop and the green awning over the door announces that the restaurant is called the Metro Bar and Grill, but it looks so much more sophisticated than any bar and grill I’ve ever been to.
Inside, the restaurant is alive and bustling with energy. The tables are full, and waiters and waitresses wind their way between large banquettes, delivering meals and refilling drinks. There’s a bar on the far right side of the space where bartenders juggle liquor bottles while chatting with guests. The energy is pulsing, and I love it already.
A host steps out from behind the marble counter top and immediately greets Mason, almost bowing at the waist.
“It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Carlisle. We have the VIP table all set up and ready for your enjoyment tonight.”
My date nods.
“Thanks, Rich.”
The host, Richard apparently, leads us to a table that’s set away from the main floor of the restaurant. From here, it almost feels like we have our own private section of the restaurant all to ourselves, while also being able to see the other diners. Mason pulls out my chair and I sit gratefully, as Richard pulls a bottle of wine out of a bucket of ice and pours a glass for each of us.
“The chef de cuisine will be right with you,” he says.
“Thanks,” Mason says with a nod as the host scurries off.
I arch a brow looking at my date. “The chef will be right with us? Not a waiter or waitress like everyone else?”
My gorgeous date grins. “The chef here knows me, so he usually likes to be the one to take my order. Mostly, I think he just likes using me as a guinea pig for his new recipes.”
Suddenly, a shadow comes to stand by our table.
“Ah, hello Mr. Carlisle!” Our visitor is portly with a huge tummy, wearing a white chef’s jacket along with a toque. He shakes Mason’s hand, then nods to me. “Good evening, Miss. Thank you for coming to Metro tonight. Mr. Carlisle, you’ll be happy to know I got in a fresh batch of truffles and scallops today just for your dinner tonight.”
Mason smiles. “You take good care of me, Chef. I’m honored.”
The portly man grins sunnily.
“Well, apparently I’ve got to make up for using you as my guinea pig.”
The two of them laugh and I smile. It’s nice seeing Mason interact with other people, and comforting to see that he’s genuinely a good person. Wealth and dashing looks can be a losing combination when it comes to living with decency, but all signs point to Mason just being a good man, who also happens to have money … and a killer set of abs.
My date meets my eyes, his blue eyes dancing. “Would you like to hear some options from the chef, or are you set on the scallop and truffle risotto, sweetheart?”
I smile at him. “Seeing how you’ve talked it up, I’ve got to try it now.”
“Wonderful,” chortles the chef with another bow. “We’ll have it right out for you, Madame.”
With that, the portly man departs and my date turns to fix me with those intense blue eyes again.
“So honey,” he begins, “you’ve been staying with me for a week, and when we met, I told you I was at the Wilshire for a business conference. I know you’ve seen I have a bit of wealth, working in the hospitality industry, but I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about what I do specifically. Aren’t you a tiny bit curious?”
I giggle. “Yes, I can tell you’ve got money with the huge penthouse and all, but you know that money isn’t everything. I think we’re both just enjoying our time together and where you get your wealth is something I figured you would share with me when you were ready. I mean, if you want to share it with me at all, that is.”
Mason is staring at me like he’s bewildered, but he’s still smiling so I’m not too worried I’ve said the wrong thing. “You are truly one of a kind, Mimi.”
I smile back.
“I’m just myself. Don’t know how to be anyone else, so I stick with being me.”
“Good, because you should never change, sweetheart. You’re perfect the way you are.”
My heart flutters.
“Really? How so?”
Mason chuckles.
“Well, most women can’t wait to find out how I got so rich. Then, they can’t wait to ask me for this or that gift, which has included expensive jewelry and luxury cars in the past,” he adds dryly.
I gasp, my eyes going wide.
“Are you serious?”
He nods thoughtfully.
“Yeah, women in this city are rapacious. They’re on a mission and once there’s a wealthy man in their sights, they won’t stop to get what they want. But you’re not like that at all, Mimi.”
I shake my head.
“No, I can’t even imagine asking for a luxury car. That’s insane!”
He merely quirks one side of his mouth up in a grin.
“Well, there’s a sliding scale when it comes to insanity, but I’m glad to say you’re not on it at all, sweetheart. That’s a relief to me.”
I let out another giggle.
“Really? Even though we started talking because I squirted you in the face with Cocoslick? That sounds pretty insane to me.”
He lets out a loud laugh which actually gets other diners turning our way.
“No, it’s fine, baby girl. A guy like me has seen everything, so to meet a woman through Cocoslick is definitely new and refreshing.”
I cock my head at him.
“But what are you looking for? Other than the Cocoslick, that is,” I add cheekily.
He lets out another laugh.
“The real thing, I suppose. No superficiality, no fakeness. I guess it’s because I worked hard for what I have. I didn’t grow up with money, so I had to take my lumps while climbing the ladder, and I can’t tolerate anyone who pretends to be one thing, while actually being another. I came up the hard way, with a business idea and empty pockets. Then, I begged, borrowed and stole in order to turn my idea into a reality, so my threshold for fakery is very low.”
I nod before murmuring throatily. “I get it, and you’ve clearly created a business that’s very successful.”
“Yes. I own G-Raw Energy Drinks. Have you heard of it?”
I gasp and Mason’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Sorry, it’s just that G-Raw is amazing! It’s huge, and to be honest, it’s the only energy drink that I like. The powerberry flavor is to die for, and I keep them on hand to chug after performances. Got to have something to put some pep back in my step after I’m done on stage.” But then, reality sinks in and my smile falters. “I mean, I used to have them when I was still performing.”
At that moment, a waiter shows up with our food, saving me. We dig into the risotto and I moan with bliss.
My date holds up a forkful, grinning. “It’s good, right?”
“OMG, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. Enjoy.”
We dine in silence for a few minutes. This food is so good and probably very expensive too, so I try to chew slowly to savor the flavors, but it’s hopeless. I’m loving it so much that I’m practically finished within minutes.
Mason cleans his plate as well and pours both of us a little more wine. “So, tell me what kind of performing you do? I had no idea you were into the movement arts as well as painting. For some reason, I thought you were a painter only.”
I stare down at my plate for a minute and just push around the last few bites of my food. As good as it is, my stomach is suddenly feeling a bit disturbed, and eating while Jewel’s voice sounds in my mind is impossible.
“I used to perform, I suppose. I guess I was a showgirl for so long that I haven’t gotten used to referring to it in the past tense yet.”
Mason leans in closer, giving me his full attention. “It seems like you miss it. Why did you stop?”
I look down at my half-eaten meal because I can’t look at him and talk about my embarrassing departure from the Wilshire. But then, what’s the point of hiding? He’ll only find out sooner or later, so I take a deep breath.
“The night before we met at the art studio, I was fired. I was a showgirl at the Wilshire Hotel, and while I was getting ready to go on for that night’s performance, the manager, Jewel, called me over and fired me in front of all the other performers. I think she’d been planning it for a while because she already had someone hired, and the new girl literally popped out, already in costume, to take my place for that night’s show.”
Mason frowns.
“It sounds like your manager was very unprofessional. Even when there’s just cause for termination, those conversations should always take place behind closed doors. Nothing like that should be done in front of other staff members.”
I swallow, staring at the table cloth, my eyes hot.
“I know Jewel shouldn’t have done it the way she did, but it was my fault.” I pause, wiping away a stray tear running down my cheek. “I’ve gained about ten pounds in the last six months, and I knew it would be a problem because being a showgirl involves lots of tiny costumes, and showing off our bodies is a part of the job. I even had some trouble getting into my costume that night because I’d gotten too fat, and that’s why Jewel fired me. She said there was no reason she should wait for me to lose the weight when there are plenty of fit, skinny girls who’d love to take my place. Evidently, she already had one right there to jump in.”
Mason snorts derisively and I look up through the tears in my eyes. Then, he’s dragging his chair to my side of the table. Sitting next to me, he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger in a firm grasp.
“Look at me, Mimi.” I know it isn’t really a request, so I meet his eyes, and I swear there’s a storm raging in that blue gaze. “You are not too fat for anything. I adore your curves, honey, and I’m going to pound this Jewel person into the ground for giving you a hard time about your weight.”
I force a small smile. “That’s nice of you to say, but the reality is what it is. Showgirls can’t get fat.”
“No.” He shakes his head fiercely. “Your body is perfect, and you’re so sexy I can barely keep my hands off you, honey. I think about you all day while I’m at work and end up hiding my erection behind my desk. I’m not trying to be crude, but I want to make sure you know I’m telling you the truth.”
Now, I can’t stop staring at him. “You really like my curves, just the way I am?”
He nods sharply, blue gaze bright.
“Yes. I adore them. We met at OnDemand, but I didn’t randomly choose that figure painting class. I do enjoy painting from time to time, but there’s a reason I always look for figure painting classes with female models and that’s because in the art world, the female form is appreciated in all its different forms. Figure painting models are usually voluptuous women, and I enjoy looking at them and recreating their gorgeous curves in my paintings. I don’t go for fashion magazines and the ridiculous notion that women are only beautiful if they’re a size zero. I prefer models like the full-figured ones in Rubenesque paintings.”
Everything he’s saying sounds good, except, “Wait a minute. So you just go to art classes to ogle naked women?”
Mason laughs, shaking his head before winking at me. “No, of course not. It’s a definite plus, but I do actually enjoy being creative.” Then, he takes my hands in his and looks me in the eye, a seriousness coming over those handsome features. “Mimi, I want you to hear me when I tell you that your body is gorgeous. You don’t have to lose weight, and you certainly don’t need to try to conform to some hateful woman’s view of what a showgirl should look like. I would even go so far as to say you could gain another twenty pounds to be even sexier.”
I gasp, my eyes going round.
“Gain twenty pounds? Are you serious?”
He nods before squeezing my hand.
“Yeah definitely, because it would fill out your curves even more. I’d have more to hold when I’m deep inside you.”
I shake my head with surprise.
“I’d love to think like that. I’d adore feeling free to be me and not constantly worrying whether everything I eat is going to make me gain weight. But not everyone thinks like you, Mason. Unfortunately, my old job doesn’t have that world view, so I’ve got to lose some pounds fast so I can try to get my job back.”
Mason shakes his head adamantly. “The Wilshire doesn’t deserve you. Never go back to an employer that has treated you with such disrespect. They’ll only take advantage of you even more.”
I nod shyly.
“It isn’t a bad job, to be honest. The Wilshire Hotel is really great, but we just got stuck with a bad manager. And I have rent to pay, so I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to go back out there on the job market, if not at the Wilshire, then someplace else.”
The handsome man frowns, and then gives a slight shake of his head. “I’ll make a deal with you, honey. Don’t go back to that job or at any hotel, period. Instead, I’ll cover all your expenses for the next six months so that you can take some time and figure out what you want to do next in life. Find your passion and pursue it, sweetheart. Don’t settle for a mediocre job with a boss who doesn’t appreciate what a gift you are.”
I open my mouth to respond, then close it and take a second more to process his words. “But why would you do that? Six months is a long time and a lot of money!”
Mason merely shakes his head.
“Not to me it isn’t, and I’m doing it because I want to. I won’t sit back while you force yourself to be unhappy for a position that doesn’t appreciate you.”
I swallow hard, tears rising in my eyes.
“I don’t know, Mason. I know it isn’t a lot of money to you, but it is to me. And I’d feel selfish letting you take care of me like that while I try to find myself. I mean, what would you even get out of this? Other than a dip in your bank account.”
His eyes are fierce as they meet mine. “I get you.”
I swallow hard. “Me?”
“Yes. I want to take you any time, and any place I desire.” He runs his hand up my outer thigh. “That includes any way I want it too, so if I’m craving your bottom, sweetheart, you’ll give it to me.”
My body feels like it’s going to overheat, and I should be disgusted, but instead, I’m entranced. It feels like I’m in a movie, but instead, this handsome billionaire is real and there’s no doubt that Mason is serious.
“Just say yes, baby,” he growls, blue eyes flashing. “You know you want it.”
The whole idea of trading my body for money is so scandalous, and yet the alpha male’s right: this is what I want. As a result, I nod and murmur, “Yes, Daddy. Your wish is my command.”
