Page 11 of B.D.E: Falling Hard For A BBW

Tori

BUZZ

My phone lit up on the counter, another message from Ivy.

I smiled without even looking. That girl stayed checking in, like she was the big sister or something, when in reality, I was the one that used to braid her hair and teach her how to flirt with waiters for free food and shit in college.

We were roommates back then with me being the loudmouth that did the most and she was this shy, introvert and bookworm who used to hide her lil erotic books under her textbooks like I didn’t know she was already reading some nasty shit.

Now, she ran her little dream bookstore café with her vintage glasses and sweet smile, and I ran my own beauty bar uptown, specializing in facials, waxing and lashes.

I was making good money and living life on my terms, and I loved that for me.

I was twenty-seven, single and not the type to wait around for love.

Not when I had goals to hit and orgasms to collect.

Ivy’s business was successful, despite what she’d gone through losing her parents, she still found a way to get up every day and move forward, keeping the promise she made to them.

I just wished she would step out of her shell and try dating.

No, a man isn’t needed, but it’s nice to vibe with someone on another level and of the opposite sex and I wanted that so bad for her.

She was definitely hiding something these days, but whatever it was, I knew she’d come to me when she was ready.

She always did. I was hoping—lowkey praying—that just maybe she was hiding some fine ass man that was turning her thick ass every which way but loose over there.

Knowing Ivy, that was nowhere near true.

ME: Girl stop worrying me. I’ll text you after. Unless he’s corny as fuck with bad breath. Then, I’ll call with a mid-escape plan.

I typed a quick reply, then tossed my phone on the bed.

Tonight wasn’t about finding love for me.

It was about the vibes and letting my hair down, seeing if the universe wanted to throw a little spice my way, Lord knows I needed some.

This honestly wasn’t even supposed to be a date, but I let one of my top clients get in my head.

Carmen, the real estate baddie that never missed a lash appointment, had mentioned her cousin that owned some big shot real estate company and that he was single and ‘handsome.’ I told her that wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation, but she pulled up his Instagram right there in the treatment chair and I had to admit, she wasn’t lying. The nigga was fine as fuck.

His name was Marcus, and baby, that man looked…

grown, grown. His body was built to the Gods, he had a clean, crispy cut like he’d just stepped out of the Steve Harvey’s barber chair and his face was smooth, with not a blemish in sight.

His beard was perfectly lined up and I instantly had thoughts of rubbing my juices through it.

She gave me his number and said, “Do with that what you will.” So, here I was, doing exactly that.

I turned toward the mirror and dropped the towel, catching my reflection in the soft gold glow of my vanity lights.

My skin shimmered from the cocoa shea butter I applied daily, leaving me with a deep brown, smooth and flawless glow that always hit different under the light.

My waist dipped right where it should, my hips were full, and my ass was sitting up high and proud like it paid rent.

Even in my late twenties, my breast was still defying gravity with a perky, soft look and a natural bounce that men lost their minds over.

I walked over to my dresser, pulling out the red mesh bralette and matching thong, and slipped them on slowly as I swayed my hips to Ecstasy by Ciara.

The dress I picked for tonight was black velvet—clingy but not too classy, with thin straps and a low back that gave just enough to have him drooling.

I slipped it on and paired it with my red, strappy high heels that made my legs look like a whole meal.

I pulled off my bonnet and fluffed out my curls, deciding to let them fall wild and free tonight.

I threw on my gold hoops to complete my look, then swiped on some Fenty gloss and hit my neck and inner thighs with a few spritzes of YSL.

Baby, I was ready for whatever the night had waiting on me.

I checked the mirror one last time, then blew my fine ass a kiss.

“Let’s see what you working with tonight, Marcus.”

The young-looking valet boy tried hard as hell not to stare as I stepped out of my car, but I caught the way his eyes dropped, looking me over, then snapped back up, realizing that he’d been caught.

After handing him my keys, I smirked and walked away, making sure to add a little switch to it since I knew I had an audience.

Heads were turning left and right as I made my way to the entrance of Ember Lounge.

Marcus had to have good taste and fat pockets because this lounge was top tier and expensive, might I add.

Granted, I made good money with my business, but I would only come here on special occasions when I felt like it was ok to spend that kind of money, which wasn’t often.

Ember Lounge had this moody, grown and sexy vibe with low lighting, velvet booths, jazz laced under trap beats and bartenders who look like they should be modeling cologne ads.

If Marcus didn’t work out tonight, I would damn sure be taking one of them home.

I walked in like I owned the place with my head held high, hips swaying, not because I was trying to impress anybody but because that’s just how I walked when I knew I looked the fuck good.

I scanned the room, eyes landing on the booth near the back.

I could tell from the pictures I’d seen that it was him.

I made my way towards the back, and he stood up to greet me.

First green flag.

Pictures did no justice for how fine this man was.

He was tall, lean but not solid and he looked like he lifted weights for fun.

His skin was this golden-brown texture and his beard nice and moisturized.

He wore a slate-gray crewneck that stretched over his broad shoulders and when he shifted to look up, whew chile, his jawline could’ve been sculpted in stone.

A thick AP watch hugged his wrist, one that I knew cost at least thirty thousand.

“Hey, you must be Tori.”

“I better be. Otherwise, I’m about to sit down and flirt with somebody else’s man.” I said, flashing a smile as I slid into the booth across from him.

“He laughed, low and sexy. “Nah, you’re exactly who I was hoping for.”

“Good answer,” I smirked. Lord, this man looked and smelled delicious. I knew I was gone need some liquor to take the edge off and warm up to him cause a bitch was nervous as hell for some reason.

As if on queue, the waiter came by our table, and I didn’t waste no time ordering.

“Two shots of tequila, please. Then I’ll look at the menu.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You waste no time huh?”

“I always get what I want, Marcus.”

“Noted,” he said.

Once the waitress returned with our drinks we toasted, clinking our glasses and then throwing the shots back. The warm tequila hit my chest and settled quick, loosening up my mood even more.

“So,” I said, “Carmen swore up and down you were ‘chill’ and low-key handsome.’ That’s definitely an understatement, I must say.”

He smirked. “I told her not to oversell it.”

“Mmm. That’s cute, but I need to know are you allergic to compliments? Or do you just know you fine as hell?”

He chuckled, eyes lingering on my mouth. “I don’t have to know. You just told me, sweetheart.”

“See?” I leaned in, resting my elbow on the table. “You catch on fast. I like that.”

From then on, Marcus and I hit it off, talking about everything under the sun.

Marcus was the CEO for Vantage Realty and Consulting, a company that sold high end properties and also helped investors flip properties amongst other things.

He didn’t just look the part; he was the part.

I told him about the beauty bar that I owned, how I started with one room at the back of a salon and now have a full team and a successful business.

He listened, asked questions and didn’t interrupt or pretend to be impressed.

It was just good ass vibes that I hadn’t experience with a man in a while.

The second round of drinks hit the table, and the buzz was starting to kick in.

“So, Marcus,” I said, tracing the rim of my glass, deciding to tease him a lil bit and see where his head was at. “What do you do for fun?”

He shrugged. “I mostly hit the gym, and travel when I can. I’m a workaholic but I love my nights that consist of good music, good bourbon and good company.”

I smirked. “Mmm. Sounds like you just described me… minus the gym. I do like to work out, just not on machines.”

He stared at me for a second, then laughed. “You really don’t hold back.”

“Why would I?” I shrugged. “I don’t like wasting words… or time.”

“Noted again,” he said, then threw another shot of tequila back.

I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other slowly.

“Tell me something good, Marcus. Something that’s gonna’ make me wanna’ leave this lounge and follow you back to your place.”

He paused, eyes trailing down my neck to the dip of my dress, then back up.

“I make some good ass late night breakfast. Bacon, eggs and grits. Real bacon too, not that turkey shit.”

I tilted my head, pretending to think it over. “That’s cute, but breakfast don’t make my panties drop.”

His smirk turned cocky. “I got something else that will.”

I stood slowly, letting him get a full look at these thighs.

“I’m dying to see what that could be.”

I grabbed my clutch and sauntered toward the door. When I heard his footsteps behind me, I knew I had him. Just as valet pulled my car up, he stepped beside me. I glanced over my shoulder, lips curling.