Hot and Heavy (Chubby Girl Chronicles #2)

I pushed at the waist of his jeans in a rush to feel him. Needing him to take it all away.

His hands moved under my dress, rushing up my thighs and pulling the fabric up to my hips. He turned us, slamming me into a small counter that housed paper towels and supplies, and with strength I didn’t know he had, he lifted me onto the counter.

His fingers moved between my thighs, grabbing at the lacy fabric covering my center. He tugged, ripping the lace from my body, the seams digging into my skin and leaving a hot burn line.

It was rough.

I should have hated it.

It should have scared me.

But I couldn’t think about anything but feeling him move inside me, rubbing away the ache, and pushing me over the edge.

“I can’t keep my hands off you. I’m sick of running.” He breathed.

“Then don’t run,” I said, not understanding his words.

He moved between my legs and slid on a condom. Stroking his thick cock, he slapped it against my clit.

“This is going to be fast and rough. You can run afterward if you want, but I’ll only find you again.”

And then he pushed into me, rough and reckless, making me gasp with the shock of how amazing he felt.

He wasn’t lying when he said it would be fast and hard. The table shook beneath us as he took me like a wild animal. Fucking me so perfectly I came within minutes. My loud screams filled the small closet, and he slid his palm over my lips to hold the sounds inside.

“That’s right, Red. Come for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock.”

I grabbed his ass, pulling him deeper into me. My mouth popped open, and I froze as another hot wave of orgasm rolled over me. My pleasure pushed him over the edge, and he ground into me one final time, pausing with his release as a desperate moan ripped from his lips.

“Fuck,” he said, his breathing fast and hard. “That was …”

“So. Good,” I finished for him.

He pulled back, allowing the cool air of the room around to me rush in.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough. You make me crazy,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as he blew out a deep breath.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“What the fuck are we doing?” he asked, his eyes despondent.

“I have no idea, but it scares me.”

I was being honest. I was terrified.

“It scares me too, but I think we have a bit of a problem. Or at least, I have a bit of a problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I might have accidentally fallen in love with you.”

My body tensed, the feel of my orgasms still making me shiver and the impact of his words slamming into me.

I couldn’t say it back. Even though the words were dancing on my lips, and my heart was rejoicing from his announcement, my mind wouldn’t allow it. The fear of getting hurt again kept me from speaking.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his eyes moving over my expression. “But please, just come home with me.”

“Matthew, I need time. Everything is moving so quickly, and there are so many things in my head.”

He reached up, fingering one of my curls, and his eyes became sad. “I laid my cards on the table. I can’t be anymore upfront about what I want. I want you. When you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

Then he pulled away, adjusted his clothes, and left me standing in the closet alone with only my thoughts and fears.

I went home to an empty apartment, and in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before Lilly and Devin would want a place of their own. There was no way I could afford the apartment on my own, so I would have to either find a cheaper place or find a new roommate.

This, on top of the business with my grammy, was gradually driving up my blood pressure. The stress of life was growing, and when I added Matthew on top of everything else, I could feel myself being pushed down by the weight.

I showered and settled into bed with Netflix on. I was scanning Facebook on my phone when I got a text from Matthew.



Matthew: My bed feels different without you in it. I wish you were here.



Looking around my room and listening to the silence of the rest of the apartment outside my bedroom door had me feeling the same way.



Me: Me too.

Matthew: Have you had enough space yet?

Me: Lol. It’s been a few hours.

Matthew: Feels like a lifetime.

Me: I’m sorry.

Matthew: For what?

Me: For being crazy.

Matthew: I like your brand of crazy. Get some rest. Text me tomorrow. Good night.

Me: Good night.



I lasted two days.

After visiting with my grammy, I ran into him in the hallway. And when he pulled me into our closet, I couldn’t stop myself from tugging his pants down and letting him fuck me against the counter once again.

He was leaning into me, his face pressed against my chest, our breaths rushed and ragged. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his thick hair, and he turned his face, placing a kiss right above the V-neck of my sweater.

“Come home with me,” he muttered against my skin.

“Matthew, I …”

“I want you naked in my bed, Shannon. These quick, quiet fucks in a closet aren’t enough. I want to touch all of you. Taste all of you. Next time I make you come, I want your luscious tits bouncing in my face so I can suck them at the same time.”

I shivered, feeling aroused all over again.

Just weeks before, I couldn’t imagine being so intimate with a man. I couldn’t imagine enjoying the feel of him moving inside me or expect the throbbing between my folds when he talked dirty to me, but with Matthew, it was out of my hands. My body and mind had joined forces, and I was done for.

“Will you come home with me?” he asked, moving his lips up the side of my neck and pressing another kiss behind my ear.

I nodded, wanting nothing more than to be with him.

I followed him to his house and parked behind him. My old car behind his brand-new one was comical.

We held hands on our way to his front door, and once we were inside, we wasted no time going to his room where he showed me with his body how much he cared about me. He made good on his promises to have me naked and squirming beneath him, and for the first time in my life, I allowed someone to taste every inch of my body.

Afterward, we laid in his bed and talked. He played with the hair around my ear, fingering the strands and using the tips to write sweet words on my shoulder.

“Shannon?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you tell me you were a virgin?”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been with a virgin since high school, but I’m pretty sure you weren’t one.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. I just know. Why did you say you were a virgin? Did you think I’d care about that?”

I shook my head, feeling sick with the thought of opening up to him. Telling him the truth.

“I had to,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because technically, I’ve never willingly been with a man.”

His fingers paused in my hair, his body frozen as his eyes moved over my expression trying to figure out what I was saying.

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