Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Ainsley sighs a bit, going limp in my arms.
“Thanks Karl, I know this is disappointing to hear,” she says in a low voice. “Women these days are taught to be independent and fierce, and I totally flopped. Truth be told, I wanted to wear something normal to the La Bianca after party. You saw the swimwear. The bikinis are tropical and flirty, so I wanted something fun and colorful in homage. But Justin was just so insistent. He wouldn’t let me wear the dress I’d picked out, saying that it made me look like Carmen Miranda—”
“Carmen Miranda doesn’t have red hair,” I rasp.
“Yeah, I know,” Ainsley replies with a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “But there you go. He whipped out the naked dress, and I ended up baring it all in front of the cameras. Again, I was disassociating.”
I shake my head.
“What a fucking dipshit.”
Ainsley sighs again.
“I know, but Justin did his job. He knows how to attract eyeballs, and we were featured on a lot of websites afterwards. Me and my tits and cunt, at least.”
I stare at her.
“Break up with this asshole. You’re not even really dating him.”
Ainsley nods, her look downcast.
“I know. We’re not a real couple. It’s just an image he wants to project to the world, and you’re right. I can’t keep up the charade because he’s controlling me, and I fucking hate it. I’m going to do it.”
I circle her wasp waist with my big hands, staring into those emerald eyes.
“You better,” I rasp. “Because you belong to me, Ainsley, and no other man is going to touch you from here on out. You’re mine.”
Then, our lips meet as the curvy girl melts into my arms again, mewling her pleasure. After all, Justin West is full of shit and a bully to boot. He made my woman bare her tits and cunt for the world to see, but that’s not going to happen anymore. This particular set of tits and ass belong to me .... and me only.
9
Ainsley
It’s been a wonderful few months with Karl. The alpha male takes care of me, and I take care of him. He’s definitely doing his job as a bodyguard because he hasn’t left my side for a moment ... or my bed, for that matter. We spend hours in it, and he fucks me morning, noon, and night. He makes me moan with pleasure, and even a glance from the handsome bodyguard is enough to make me break into a full-body blush.
But this is the life, and I love it. Sure, I realize that I’m living off my brother’s dime right now, but Patrick got what he wanted too because I broke up with Justin. No more naked dresses. No more “disassociating” in order to pretend I wasn’t there. No more embarrassing paparazzi shots of me and my tits and pussy on display, looking like a drugged-out Barbie doll.
Plus, the break-up wasn’t a big deal. When I told Justin, he merely shrugged, said something incoherent, and then I was on my way. I do miss his dogs, but I know the canines are in good hands with Janice, Brenda, and Tom. They’re excellent at Wag Walkers, and I’m certain Button is getting plenty of attention and exercise.
So yes, my life with Karl is to die for. There’s so much love, sex, and passion that I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. He keeps me constantly on my toes too, with funny quips and interesting stories, and we’re well-matched when it comes to our senses of humor. Who would have thought that the brat and the bodyguard would get along like a house on fire, in personality as well as in bed?
The only fly in the ointment is that I haven’t been landing many jobs as a plus-size model, and it bugs me. I know I’m pretty, and I know I have the “look” that’s in vogue right now. But my phone’s silent, and deep in my heart, I wonder if it’s because I’m no longer dating Justin West. Justin’s the one who’s a global superstar, and I was just the pretty girl on his arm. He’s still putting out platinum albums, and showing up in all the gossip magazines. In fact, he even has a new girlfriend now, who’s so young that I wonder if she’s even legal. Of course she must be because he’s too famous to get away with that kind of shit, but the pictures of them together are jaw-dropping because he looks positively ancient next to her fresh-faced innocence. Heck, she could be in pigtails and a school uniform, she’s so young!
But I bite my lip because it’s not my business anymore. My concern is my faltering career, and I gaze listlessly at the flatscreen on the wall as the Super Bowl plays.