Misadventures of a Curvy Girl (Misadventures #18)(42)

Ben is the first to move, prowling toward her like a wolf and then seizing her in a lewd kiss that has her nipples poking through her sweater.

“Inside,” he growls, all beast to Ireland’s beauty. “Fucking now.”

We go inside, and we fuck Ireland in her pencil skirt, and then in nothing but her heels, and then again in nothing but her lipstick.

“Move in,” Ben says again as we all lie in bed that night, naked and sweaty and spent.

Ireland laughs again, burrowing into us and falling asleep in a record amount of time.

This time, Ben almost manages to stay the entire night with us before creeping back to his own bed where he feels safe.





Chapter Fifteen





Ireland





“No way,” I say firmly. “Uh-uh. Nothing doing.”

It’s my fourth weekend with the boys—my boys—and the miserable August heat has driven us to the big farm pond at the back of the property. I thought we were heading back here simply to sit beside the water and let the breeze cool us off, but that notion evaporated the minute we reached the small wooden dock and both Caleb and Ben stripped completely naked. I barely had a chance to ogle their big, muscled bodies with those delightfully taut asses and heavy, semihard cocks, before they launched themselves into the water.

Completely naked.

“Come on, peach!” Caleb says with his customary grin. “It feels amazing!”

I shake my head vigorously. It’s hot as hell out here, and while I normally love swimming, I love swimming in a swimsuit. One that has been carefully selected to support and flatter. The idea of stripping naked in all this bright sunlight, every wobbly inch of me exposed, and then jumping into the water with all those wobbly inches at maximum wobble is enough to make me wince.

It’s strange, because a month ago, I would have avowed the new Ireland was confident and fierce and no longer cared about wobbles at all. And you would think having two hunky farm boys jumping my bones every few hours would have cured me of any insecurity at all!

I’m annoyed with myself about it. It feels like I’m going backward…and with no good reason. These boys adore me. I adore them. They’ve never done anything to make me feel anything but the sexiest woman alive.

But, if I’m honest, when Ben and I fought and I left, there was this tiny part of me that said, Oh. Of course. What did I expect would happen? Plus-sized girls don’t date cute, fit guys. Men like them won’t want to keep you around.

I know it was his war trauma talking, and Ben never made that moment about my body—but I did. I definitely did. And there’s this weird little place in my mind that won’t let go of it, like a dog with a bone. Just chewing over this insecurity until it’s gross and splintery and rank. Until it whispers things like how long do you really think this can last? How long until they really look at your body and decide not to want you anymore?

“I don’t like swimming with fish,” I lie, sitting on the dock instead. I stretch out my legs and smooth my skirt primly down my thighs. The fabric sticks to my skin because I’m so sweaty, and I try not to think about how cold the swimming hole looks right now. How refreshing. “I prefer to swim in clean water. Without living things in it.”

“The fish are very nice fish,” Caleb promises. “They haven’t eaten a person in years.”

“Funny,” I reply. “Very funny. I’m still not coming in.”

“I think you are,” Ben says from next to the dock. The water flows gracefully over his strong shoulders as he effortlessly treads in place, the tantalizing lines of his firm body disappearing into the green depths and hiding the most interesting parts from view.

I try to catch a glimpse anyway.

I bet even the cool water swallowing up his body is doing nothing to diminish that perfect penis of his.

Caleb is the first to haul himself up the dock ladder, but Ben follows right after, and then I don’t have to crane my neck anymore to see their beautiful cocks because they’re right in front of me.

“No,” I say, having a feeling where this is going. “I’m not going in.”

“You’re all flushed, peach,” Caleb coaxes. Even as he says the words, a drop of sweat drips down from my hairline. “A nice dip would make you feel better.”

Ben just stares down at me with that penetrating way of his, like he can see all the things I don’t want him to see.

I look away, pretending to fuss with the hem of my skirt and also pretending my dress isn’t sweat-soaked and clinging to my back because I’m dying in the sun. “I’m not actually that hot,” I fib. “The breeze off the water is enough to cool me down.”

Ben drops to his knees and moves over me so he’s straddling my legs. He plants his hands on either side of my hips and leans forward, his lips grazing my jaw. “If you don’t get into the water, I’m pulling you in.”

I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

He shrugs without answering, leaning in to kiss my neck, heedless of the sweat there.

“You monster,” I accuse. “What if I can’t swim?”

At this he pulls back and searches my face. “But you can swim, can’t you? This isn’t about swimming at all. There’s something else holding you back.”