The Billionaire's Lover: Curves To Keep (Part One) (A BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

Gabrielle stepped into the elevator, and her
confusion and hurt began to transform into anger. She had already
selected the ground floor of the grand building, wanting nothing
more than to get into her car, go home, and have a glass of wine to
dull her sorrow over losing the career opportunity of a lifetime.
Instead, she looked at the floor selections, her anger consuming
her. So what if she wasn’t a size zero Barbie doll? She was a
talented, intelligent, qualified designer. Her ability to do the
job should be more important than what she looked like—and besides,
Gabrielle knew that she was gorgeous, no matter what some asshole
of a hiring manager thought. She found the button for the top floor
and pressed it, reasoning that the higher up in the building she
went, the closer she would be to an authority figure. She decided
that she wasn’t going to just let the opportunity go without a
fight; she would file a complaint against Richards, she would
insist on being interviewed fairly.

Gabrielle felt the elevator shift as it began
to move upward rather than downward, and she cherished her anger,
letting it burn through the self-esteem-cutting remarks that
Richards had made. She gripped her portfolio case tightly in her
hand, talking to herself mentally, coaching herself to be
assertive—to be all-out aggressive in demanding to speak to someone
with authority. The elevator pinged, announcing her arrival at the
top-most floor a moment before the doors pulled apart silently.
Gabrielle stepped out, looking around her with apprehension and
tightly reined anger. The floor she had come out on was even more
impressive than the one she had been on for her interview; as she
stepped out onto the fine marble floor, she saw that everything
gleamed with craftsmanship. Gabrielle thought irrelevantly that she
would not enjoy being the janitor responsible for the area; the
wood-paneled walls shone with polish, and there was a brass rail
along each side of the room. One wall was dominated by towering
windows. The reception desk at this level was empty—a good
development, a lucky chance. Gabrielle knew that it couldn’t
possibly last; she had to take advantage as much as she could
before the secretary returned from whatever errand she was on and
asked questions. She glanced at the directory that was posted on
one of the walls, glancing down through the office designations,
names and titles as quickly as she could.

Her gaze fell on exactly the person she
needed: Harlan Williams, Director of Human Resources. At the level
that Gabrielle was at, there were no locked doors into an inner
office; instead the atrium-lobby opened into brightly lit hallways
left open for anyone to walk down and explore. Gabrielle supposed
that the secretary, wherever she was, had the task of preventing
unauthorized entry into the sanctified areas—but since she wasn’t
at her post, Gabrielle quickly moved into the hallway, glancing
surreptitiously to make sure no one was coming around another
corner to spot her. She would talk to this Harlan Williams, and
tell him just what a discriminating ass Eric Richards was.

Gabrielle quickly found the office that was
marked Director of Human Resources, and would have gone for the
door knob immediately; but a sound from within the confines of the
office stopped her. It was a low, muffled moan. Gabrielle, an
intensely sexual person, recognized the sound of it right away—she
thought with amusement that Mr. Williams must be watching porn in
the privacy of his office. A sharp crack and another moan told her
that there was something much more immediate going on, and
Gabrielle’s pulse began to race. She leaned in, peering through the
slightly open slats of the blinds that covered the window into the
office, intrigued by the possibility of something inappropriate
going on.

The sight she saw struck her with immediate,
intense arousal. A woman—possibly the secretary who was away from
the lobby—was bent over the desk, her body stripped bare, her
clothes scattered on the floor. She was facing away from
Gabrielle’s point of view, the side of her body exposed; she was
wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels, and was holding
herself up slightly, her hips pushed back, and her pert, tight ass
up in the air with her back bowed slightly. Her wrists were bound
over her head at the front of the desk with a necktie. Gabrielle
had to admit to herself that the woman was objectively attractive;
her skin was a creamy pale tone, her hair a vibrant red cascading
down along her bare back. Nearby, Gabrielle’s hungry gaze took in a
tall, well-built man; in contrast to the woman, he was nearly fully
clothed in a fitted dress shirt, the first several buttons undone
to show the bare, chiseled chest underneath and his tie missing.
His sleeves were crisply rolled up to almost his elbows, and
Gabrielle noticed with growing desire that his pants fit him
exquisitely well. She heard a muffled murmur, saw his lips moving
but couldn’t make out the words he said, and watched as his hand
came down against the woman’s bare ass, making a sharp, certain
crack against her skin. The woman moaned out again, her hips
stirring. Gabrielle could see plainly that both of them were
enjoying their activity; the woman’s face in profile was full of
lust, and the man’s lips twitched with a satisfied smile as he
brought his hand down against her again.

Gabrielle was shocked and yet at the same
time full of sudden lust watching the two. She had ceased to be
naïve early in her teen years, so the idea of sex in the workplace
was not unthinkable to her—but the possibility of two people at
such a high level engaging in such blatant behavior in the middle
of the work day was surprising. She stared at the scene in front of
her for several long moments, engrossed as the spanking the woman
was enduring intensified. She felt herself starting to get wet with
vicarious desire, trembling as she imagined herself in the woman’s
position, helpless with the handsome man’s hand coming down against
her sensitive skin. The man spoke again, and Gabrielle, tuned into
the situation as acutely as she possibly could be, heard his words
more clearly. “I’m going to remove my belt now. Are you ready?”
Gabrielle came back to herself suddenly, realizing that much more
than a simple spanking would evolve from the interaction that she
was witnessing. She remembered why she had come to the office in
the first place, and reminded herself that there was plenty of porn
available for free online—she didn’t need to be a peeping Tom. She
gathered herself up, swallowing against the dryness in her
throat.

Before anything more could happen, Gabrielle
confidently reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing through
the door and into the room without any attempt to knock or
otherwise give the two an opportunity to cover up what they had
been up to. As the woman looked up in shock, not quite suppressing
a yelp of dismay, Gabrielle closed the door behind her and stood
unabashed in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest. “I
need to speak with whoever is in charge of this office, and I need
to talk to that person right now.” The woman struggled with her
bindings, looking helplessly horrified as she struggled to look
over her shoulder at the man. Gabrielle admired the coolness he
displayed, untying the woman’s wrists in a fluid motion.

The woman scrambled to collect her clothes,
blushing a furious bright red and avoiding Gabrielle’s gaze as she
faltered and stumbled, getting dressed with panicked movements. The
man, meanwhile, buttoned up his shirt with a casual air, slipping
the necktie around his collar and started to re-tie it in
automatic, almost graceful movements. “Sir, do you want me to call
security?” the woman asked, her voice still slightly shrill with
shock and dismay as she rushed to the door, hesitating.

“That won’t be necessary, Nicole. Go back to
the lobby and ensure that myself and this young woman are not
disturbed further.” The man sat down behind the desk, and Gabrielle
was almost amused as the secretary skittered out of the room,
closing the door behind her with a nervous jerk. Gabrielle felt the
man’s gaze take her in, lingering not at her waist or her legs but
instead at her face, and she realized that he could see the flush
in her cheeks perfectly clearly, even as he calmly and coolly
watched her. “Now, what do you want?” Gabrielle gathered her
composure and came more fully into the room, remembering her anger
and frustration with her interview and the obvious discrimination
she had faced.

“I had an interview about fifteen minutes ago
with Eric Richards in the design department for an internship with
this company,” she said, feeling her anger increase as she
remembered the details of the interview. “Not only did he not look
at my portfolio once during the interview, but he made
inappropriate comments about my weight, suggesting that because I’m
not a skinny fashion model that I am somehow less qualified for the
position. I saw him treat a girl who did look like a skinny fashion
model with plenty of friendliness and courtesy, so apparently he’s
not averse to women in general—just women who don’t happen to be a
size zero.” Gabrielle saw amusement flicker across the man’s face
as she launched into her description of the interview; while she
didn’t think he thought it—or she—was a joke, there was something
in his expression that piqued her. She gave her account, relaying
all of the inappropriate remarks and becoming more and more
irritated as she remembered the details forcefully.

“I can appreciate your concerns,” the man
said smoothly when Gabrielle ran out of things to say for a moment,
her heart pounding with a mixture of lust, anger, and
disappointment. “That must have been a very difficult experience
for you. You have my sincerest apologies for Mr. Richards’
behavior—it is certainly not the kind of conduct I would expect of
a manager.” Gabrielle began to resent the man’s smooth ways,
thinking that he was giving her a high-level brush-off. Nothing
would ever come of her complaint; certainly she wouldn’t have a
chance at the position. She had to do something more.

“Yes well, if the next words out of your
mouth are ‘unfortunately there’s nothing I can do…’ then you can
just save them. If you don’t find something to do about this, then
I’m going to make sure I find someone to tell about the fact that
you were having freaky bondage sex with your secretary—and I’ll
tell as many people as will listen to me.” The man’s bright blue
eyes widened, and a look of sharp annoyance and irritation crossed
over his face for just an instant. Gabrielle thought that the great
man probably wasn’t used to being threatened or talked back to;
between his good looks and his position, he was likely surrounded
by simpering women like that secretary, only too happy to do his
bidding. He ran his fingers through his short, dark, curly hair
quickly, mastering himself in the next instant.

The smile that curved his lips as he looked
at her for a long moment told Gabrielle that if nothing else, she
had secured his respect. The man stood. “I was not going to suggest
that there is nothing I can do about it,” he said smoothly,
reaching for the jacket that he had left draped on the desk. He
straightened his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs and looked at
Gabrielle again. This time, his gaze trailed over her body slowly
from head to toe before returning with unusual propriety to her
face. “I would like to make up for your bad experience by offering
you a second interview—with me. I will, of course, need you to come
to my real office; next week I should have time available to see
you.” Gabrielle puzzled over the comment.

“Your real office?” she asked, glancing at
the room they were in. The man smiled again, a look of mischief
dancing in his bright eyes.

“Yes, Miss…” Gabrielle realized with a start
that she hadn’t actually provided her name when she had launched
into her diatribe.

“Young. Gabrielle Young.” The man nodded.

“Miss Young. You seem to have had luck on
your side this afternoon; Harlan Williams is out of the office for
the week, so you would not have been able to speak with the
Director of Human Resources. However, finding the CEO of the
company you’re looking to work for in a compromising position gives
you much more leverage than even he would have.” Gabrielle stared
at him blankly for a long moment, his words beginning to sink in.
The man crossed the room and Gabrielle shook the offered hand
numbly, not certain of what she was doing. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you, Miss Young. I am Tyler Edwards.” Gabrielle snapped out of her
surprise, smiling and finishing the handshake with firm
cordiality.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Edwards,”
she said. “Next week, you said? What day?” Edwards smiled slightly
at her quick recovery and took out his phone, glancing at a
calendar.

“Let’s say Wednesday, at four.”
Gabrielle nodded and left the office with a spring in her step,
marching smartly through the echoing lobby to the elevator and
smiling to herself with relief and excitement.

Chapter
Two

That night, Gabrielle decided to celebrate
her unconventional victory with her friends. They met up at the
club that Gabrielle preferred to haunt, and soon they were two or
three drinks in, Gabrielle telling a tactfully edited account of
her encounter; she didn’t mention who it was she had scored an
interview with specifically, only that he was a “mucky muck.” Her
friends clucked with dismay at her account of Richards’ blatant
discrimination and rudeness, and crowed at her slightly toned-down
description of what she had seen in the office of the Human
Resources director. Her friends were pleased with her victory, and
insisted that she would certainly win the job in the end. “I wish I
had half the guts Gabby does,” one of her friends commented.
Another one pointed out that if she had caught a high-up member of
the company engaged in inappropriate activities, she would have
been too shocked to be able to do anything but stare—and that she’d
probably get caught as a snoop and ruin her chances altogether. The
alcohol was warming her from the inside, and as she finished the
story, Gabrielle’s thoughts turned back to the sight she had
witnessed.