Rich Salty Butter (Rock Hard Security Book 1) Read online

  RICH

  SALTY

  BUTTER

  Rock Hard Security 1

  An Older Alpha, Younger BBW Romance

  By

  Vikki Sweet

  © Vikki Sweet 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Vikki Sweet

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Grab a new sexy story every week: https://tinyletter.com/vikkisweet

  Rich Salty Butter

  An Alpha older man and younger BBW Romance

  Georgia

  I’m on the date from hell when my best friend, Kelly, offers me the perfect excuse to ditch. She’s watching corny scary movies with her brother, Dwayne. As a teenager, I had the biggest crush on him but he was too old for me and way out of my league.

  But when Dwayne and I are left alone, a night of movies and rich buttery popcorn quickly heats up.

  Dwayne

  Liking Georgia is easy, she’s fun and loves scary movies and thrill rides as much as I do. But she’s always just been my kid sister’s friend.

  But tonight, I realized that she is not the girl I remember. She’s a curvy sexy cutie, who loves scary movies and thrill rides and I’m going to make it my mission to give her the greatest thrill ride of all.

  This is a seriously spicy and sweet short story romance featuring a kickass full bodied lady and a smoking hot, dirty talking man.

  Each book in the series can be read on its own.

  If you love short romances with insta love, smoking hot scenes, and a sweet love story, then this one is for you!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Georgia

  What insanity made me agree to go out with this man?

  It’s not the first time I’ve had the thought as I pick at my green salad drizzled with some kind of fat free, sugar free, flavor free dressing, all the while eyeing the massive steak he’s gobbling down without a care.

  When he’d insisted on ordering for me, I’d been charmed. I don’t know why. What’s so damned romantic about a guy treating me like a child? And now I’m stuck here with this tasteless rabbit food while my nostrils fill with the scent of perfectly cooked beef!

  “You see,” he’s saying as I finally tune back in to his conversation. “It’s time for me to settle down, now that I have my law practice going, and you know what they say, every successful politician needs a good wife at home.”

  He flashes me a smile that I’d found disarming when we met, but now I just find irritating.

  I feel my stomach grumble and take another bite of baby spinach. It’s bitter and dry and I try not to cringe as I swallow it. It’s not that I don’t like vegetables, or salad for that matter, but salad on its own is rubbish.

  “I need a wife who’s attractive, like yourself,” he says, giving me a wink. “She would also need to be a homebody, a nurturer, a mother.”

  I tune him out again as he goes on and focus on my salad. Would it have killed them to throw in a couple of cheese cubes? I lift a large leaf hopefully but find nothing but an ugly hunk of grated carrot.

  Okay, so you probably think I’m obsessed with food. I’m not! It’s just that I skipped lunch so I could enjoy my first date in forever and eat a nice meal without feeling guilty about it tomorrow. Now I’m hungry and crabby and not in the mood to hear this windbag talk at me as though I’m interviewing for a job.

  At least the wine’s nice. I can’t remember what it’s called but it’s light and dry and makes my head buzz pleasantly. I finish my glass and top it up, grinning at the way his eyes narrow slightly.

  Ooh, Joey, are you wondering if your future wife is an alcoholic? I think with a secret snicker. Believe me, I would be if I married you.

  When we’ve finished a waiter comes to take our plates.

  “Would you like to take a look at the dessert menu?” The waiter asks.

  Joey looks at me, you know the look, the up and down appraisal, then says, “I don’t think so.”

  Everything inside me goes very quiet.

  I’ve never been slim. I mean I take care of myself, eat heathy food and enjoy hiking and being active, but I also like cookies and pasta. Some women are naturally skinny and can eat normally without putting on weight, as long as they don’t over do it. I am not one of those women. I’m careful to not over eat, but for me, being skinny means always being on a diet and never having what I like. Like, never.

  I might not be happy with the way I look all the time, but I know for a fact from my slimmer friends that they aren’t happy with their bodies either. So what’s the point of being slim and hungry all the time if I’m still miserable?

  That said, there’s no stopping the cold flood of shame that I feel when someone visibly disapproves of my appearance.

  I jump to my feet, startling both the waiter and the asshole sitting across from me.

  “Miss?” The waiter says, looking nervously between me and Joey, probably weighing up the possibility of me making a scene.

  I smile politely at the waiter. “Sorry, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

  My eyes are already stinging as I walk to the back of the restaurant and I can feel Joey’s gaze as I go. Is he judging my weight or wandering if I’m mad about something? Probably can’t imagine why I would be upset. He strikes me as the kind of man who would accuse me of being hysterical every time I argued.

  Why did I ever think I could just have a normal date? Nothing was ever normal for me.

  Once hidden in a stall I drop down the lid, sit, and pull out my phone.

  Three rings and Kelly picks answers. “Hey, what’s up? How’s the big date going?”

  “Well I’m sitting in the toilet talking to you,” I reply. Then, to my horror I feel the first sob rise in my throat. “He thinks I’m fat.”

  “What!” Kelly’s outrage is so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Did he say that to you? Because—”

  “No!” I interrupt. “He hasn’t said anything mean. In fact he said I would make the perfect wife for an up and coming politician.” I sniff and another flood of humiliation makes me just want to curl up into a ball. “He ordered me the salad and when the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, Joey gave me this up and down look and said, no.”

  The phone is silent for long enough that I wonder if we’ve been disconnected. Then just as I’m about to check, a wave of shrill curse words explode from the tiny speaker. Her outraged shouting is so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear and by the time she’s finished, I’m trying hard not to laugh. Kelly can make swearing a competitive sport and win if she’s really mad.

  “Would you like a mint?” I ask when I’m sure she’s done.

  “You know what?” Kelly says after taking a couple of breaths. “Fuck that guy. Ditch him and come hang out with us.”

  “Who’s us?”

  “Dwayne’s back in town. He finally let Dad talk him into joining Rock Hard Security with the other guys from his squad.”

  Dwayne? My breath suddenly gets short and my chest flutters. Dwayne was Kelly’s older brother. He’d already graduated college and followed his father’s footsteps into the army by the time I was in high school, but that didn’t stop the hardcore crush I’d had on him.
>
  I might be curvy now, but I was a lot chunkier and painfully shy back then. He was always nice, of course, and sometimes when he was home he’d hang with us and watch movies. But he never saw me as anything but his kid sister’s friend.

  Except there was that one time.

  That one New Year’s Eve when he’d kissed me.

  I’d been sixteen and he’d been drunk. He was a big man, tall, muscular, and bald with a smile that always made me feel like the only person in the room. And for the first time in my awkward life, I’d felt normal, petit even.

  The kiss was hot and intense and everything I imagined a first kiss to be. My lips tingle even now with the memory. The tickle of his stubble, the hot wetness of his mouth.

  I know it was the booze. He’d never have looked twice at me if he was sober.

  It takes me a moment to realize that Kelly is still talking.

  “I mean we’re just watching bad horror movies and binging on popcorn. But it’ll be fun.”

  I sigh. It honestly couldn’t be worse than the night I was having now, and it’s not like Dwayne would remember one stupid drunken kiss that happened ten years ago.

  “Okay, yes.”

  “Yay! It’ll be just like the old days.”

  In the mirror, I touch up my lipstick and pat a little powder around my slightly red eyes.

  A woman comes in and takes a place in front of the mirror. After touching up her own lipstick she turns to me.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying,” she says, and I brace myself for the tough love that always follows that statement. “You are rocking that dress.”

  I blink at her. She’s stunning. Silky blond hair, blue eyes, skintight red dress. But she’s looking at me with genuine admiration.

  “Really?”

  I face the mirror again and after a beat, let my gaze drop to the black and red form-fitting corset dress, that forces my breasts out and high, and makes my green eyes pop.

  “Look at me,” she says, spreading her arms wide. “I have no boobs, no hips, no butt. I may as well be a prepubescent boy.”

  “It’s safe to say that I have too much of all those things.”

  She frowns and looks at me, really looks at me. “Seriously, women get operations to get the body you have. Nikki Minaj, Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Lopez. Girl, curves are in.”

  ***

  Dwayne

  “So, brother-sister movie night is now a party?” I say, one towel around my waist and the other drying my head. What can I say, I’m a big man who needs a lot of towel.

  “Not a party,” Kelly replies. “I invited one friend. She’s on a date with a jerk and needs some fun. Come on, it’s Georgia. You remember her, right?”

  My hand stills and I feel my shoulders go stiff.

  “Come on, she loves horror movies. In fact, when she’s not dating idiots, I’m relatively sure she’s prepping for the zombie apocalypse.”

  My mouth quirks at that. There were a couple of nights when I’d been left in charge of my then teenage sister and her friend. I remembered Georgia always loved zombie movies and slashers, the bloodier and more ridiculous the better.

  Most of the time Kelly would fall asleep leaving me and Georgia watching alone. She always had a best behind the scenes facts and the sickest jokes.

  I remember more than a few times wishing she was older, so it wouldn’t be weird if we spent more time together. But she’d been barely fifteen and with me at twenty-five it wouldn’t have been cool. I might be a selfish prick sometimes, but I’m not a bastard.

  She’s not fifteen anymore.

  I shake my head, shoving the thought away. I feel like a pervert just thinking about it, like those thirty-year-olds counting down till teenage starlets like the Olsen Twins became Legal. Just the thought makes me feel sick.

  I am not that kind of guy. And Georgia is out of my league.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Georgia

  “You are by far the most boring man I have ever met,” I say to a shocked Joey. “If the goal was to talk at me for an hour, you could have at least ordered me the lobster.”

  With that, I paid the check, leaving a large tip for the waiter.

  “Jeez,” he said. “If you wanted dessert so bad, you should have just said so.”

  It’s the condescending tone that does it. With a silky sweet smile, I tell him exactly where he can stick his dessert.

  But once I’m sitting in the Uber, I can’t stop shaking. I’ve never done anything like that before. Usually I prefer to hide or simply remain silent when people make me feel bad, but not tonight.

  “Never again,” I say.

  I’d rather be single than be with someone who makes me feel shitty about myself.

  Less than ten minutes later, I’m standing in Kelly’s drive.

  At the door, I raise my hand to knock but it flies open just as my knuckles reach the wood and suddenly I’m knocking on something just as hard but also warm and a little damp.

  My hand goes flat against the wide, tanned chest, feeling something pulsing beneath my fingertips. The pulse gets faster and I pull my hand away with a hiss as though it burned. If I’m honest, it sort of did.

  “I – um – I was looking for Kelly,” I stammer and my face must be beet red.

  “Georgia?”

  That voice is familiar and I flush again when I realize that I hadn’t even looked at his face because I’d been too busy ogling his wide, muscular chest!

  Damn. I remember Dwayne being sexy as hell back when I was a teenager but I’d been hoping that it was merely my adolescent crush viewing him through rose colored lenses. But nope. He was even hotter now. Strong, defined arms, wide chest, full lips…

  Stop that!

  It doesn’t help that he’s filling the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans that hang loosely around a set of mouthwatering abs.

  “Dwayne,” I say with a slightly forced smile. “Hi. Kelly said you were back in town. I hope I’m not intruding. She invited me round to watch movies.” I’m babbling! I shut my mouth hard enough to make my teeth clack together.

  His gaze moves over my dress, down to my legs, then linger a little longer than necessary on my breasts.

  “Is that what you wore on your date?” he asks.

  “No, for my date I wore my jockey outfit with full boots and whip. I changed in the Uber on my way over.”

  His lips quirk into a smile. “Touché. You look nice is all.”

  “Yeah well, my date didn’t think so.”

  For a moment he looks almost murderous but immediately the expression is gone and before either of us can say anything else, Kelly shoves him out of the way and drags me inside.

  ***

  Dwayne

  I’m in trouble.

  Liking Georgia is easy. She’s fun and caring and vehemently protective of my sister and the sentiment is reciprocated by Kelly.

  Kelly had confided in me once that it hurt when Georgia compared herself to obviously fake magazine models or when people made helpful tough love suggestions to help her look more like them.

  I remembered one such rant session where she exclaimed, “Why do we all need to look the same anyway? Guys come in all shapes and sizes why the hell do women need to fit some cookie cutter mould?”

  Georgia might not believe it, fuck, society might not let her believe it, but she was always a pretty girl and damn if she hasn’t grown into a breathtaking woman. She might not be some plastic magazine ideal, but she made my mouth water and my dick ache.

  Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight and those red lips sent my blood rushing south. But it was that dress that made me want to drag her, caveman style, up to my bedroom and have my way with her. The bloody thing clung to her curves in the best ways and those breasts. It had taken me almost a full minute to realize that I was staring at them like some teen boy.

  I follow dumbly as Kelly leads Georgia into the kitchen.

  Kelly is ranting all the way, I barely catch a few words,
but I mirror her sentiment. This guy Georgia was with was clearly a blind idiot.

  “Thing I don’t understand,” Georgia is saying when I tune back in. “Why would he ask me out, if he didn’t like me?”

  “Oh, he liked you just fine,” Kelly replies, hands on hips. “It’s a dude game. Make you feel like shit, so you think he’s doing you a favor by dating you.” She looks at me. “Isn’t that right, He-Man?”

  “Wouldn’t know. I don’t pull that shit.”

  Kelly makes a sign with her fingers. “Hashtag, not-all-men?”

  “Hashtag, shut-up.”

  There’s some infantile face pulling before Kelly turns away to start on the popcorn.

  “You look amazing, by the way,” Kelly says to Georgia. “That dress looked hot in the shop but with the makeup and earrings.” She does a low whistle. “Dwayne, you want to prove what a great guy you are, tell her the dress looks hot.”

  Heat rushes up my neck because that dress is all I’ve been able to think about since Georgia arrived.

  But Georgia suddenly looks shy, her own cheeks flushing. “Kelly,” she admonishes, looking everywhere but at me, then meeting my eyes for a second before saying. “You don’t have to, Dwayne. You already said it was nice.”

  “Well, I meant it,” I say too quickly. “ I don’t really know much about clothes but it’s cut um nice and…” Shit. “I mean… You look beautiful.”

  “Smooth,” Kelly laughs, rolling her eyes. “Now what movie do you want to watch? We have Halloween Pussy Trap Kill Kill, Hatchet Harry 5, or __”

  “Hatchet Harry 5,” I say and hear Georgia saying the same thing.

  Kelly sighs dramatically. “Of course. Is five the one where he stalks the teens through the lakeside resort?”

  “Nope,” Georgia says. “Five is the one where the paramedics accidentally resuscitate him after those teens spent the whole forth movie trying to kill him.”

  I grin, remembering. “Yeah then he spends the rest of the movie stalking those teens all over again as well as the police and paramedics.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Kelly deadpans.

  “That’s what makes it fun,” Georgia says grabbing a couple of pieces of buttered popcorn and popping them between those luscious lips.