Going Too Far (The Curvy Submissive) Read online

  Brian had grown increasingly more embarrassed by her brashness, her youth. At first glance she could have passed for a teenager, especially when she showed up at the bar with bright pink streaks framing her face and a wrist full of black plastic bracelets. Today she wore striped knee-high socks with a black skirt that might have otherwise been professional. She worked at home, kept odd hours, and spent many nights at the bar, just because. Sometimes she helped the waitresses out and without getting paid for it. It wasn’t odd for her to take over a corner booth, order nachos and a cherry coke and spend four hours reading Harry Potter.

  But all of those things were superficial, things she took pleasure in because she was still young and bright enough to be unashamed of the things she loved.

  I envied that about her. She made living in the world look so damn easy.

  Kat climbed onto a barstool and then slid up onto the bar top, which I’d told her a million times not to do, but I let it go today. She sat cross-legged as I slipped back behind the bar to finish putting glasses away.

  “I’ve got a party to go to tonight, but I can help out tomorrow with the Halloween rush if you want.”

  “Only if you let me pay you.” Her cheeks reddened at the mention of money, Brian’s set down a little too fresh. I regretted bringing it up again, but she shrugged it off easily and stole a cherry from the dish behind the bar I’d just filled. I watched her tie the stem into a knot between her bright pink painted fingernails.

  “You and I both know I’ve scammed so many free drinks off you I’ll be working my tab off until I’m an old spinster.”

  “And you know I don’t even keep track.” I started making her a pomegranate Shirley Temple, her new favorite, which recently replaced amaretto and sprite, her old favorite. “And I strongly doubt you’re going to end up a spinster. Maybe surrounded by cats, but probably not a spinster.”

  “Brian says, and I quote, No one will ever marry you because you’re an intolerable brat and I’m going to be stuck taking care of you for the rest of my life. End quote. He’s a self-pitying jerk, but I’m not entirely sure he’s wrong about that part.” She shrugged. “I’m not even sure I mind all that much. I like cats.”

  I couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Kat was a burden though. She took care of herself better than most of us.

  “Want to know a secret?” Kat pulled her backpack into her lap and dug out a manila folder. She dropped it between us and folded it open to a mess of pictures and glossy printouts with South River’s logo emblazoned across the top.

  “God yes.”

  “I’m secretly holding out for a kinky billionaire. Novels have taught me they are like locusts. I just have to stand still long enough for one of them to crash into me.” I almost dropped the glass I was holding, catching it just in time. She raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t ask, thank god. “We’ll fall in love, see, and I will make art for our dungeon. Or ballroom. Or whatever kinky billionaires like to spend their money on. I’m not picky.”

  I cleared my throat and set the slippery glass aside. “Good to see you have a plan for your future.”

  “In the mean time I have the mock-ups for your web ad ready for your approval. I know we took these great pictures of the model on the bar and don’t get me wrong, she’s hot. I mean, who wouldn’t want to do her? But I took these other pictures when we were fooling around after the shoot and all the waitresses are hanging out with the model behind the bar and I think I like them even better.”

  She scooted closer and I settled my arm across the small of her back to keep her from inadvertently tumbling off the bar top. “Show me.”

  Kat was talented, no doubt about that. Her pictures popped off the glossy paper and felt very real. She had a gift for capturing people at their best.

  “See, most women look like me. They’re normal, busty, curvy, overweight, underweight, flat chested, and oddball. None of us look like this hot model with legs that are just, oh my God, longer than should be legal. Put these normal girls who are real South River waitresses on the website banner and print ads. Remind your customers that all women are beautiful here, not just the ones I photoshop.”

  Kat leaned back to give me space to examine the pictures, but instead I watched her, proud of herself and her work, Brian momentarily forgotten. She carried a little extra weight in her chest and thighs mostly, something she always bemoaned, but suited her even if she didn’t realize it herself. Brian had no idea what he was missing out on. Secretly I was thankful she didn’t walk out and only call on holidays.

  When she caught me staring, a pink blush colored her cheeks and worked its way down her neck.

  “The pictures,” she insisted. I tore my eyes away from her and her crazy adorable black cat ears.

  “You’re right; the waitresses feel more like South River than the model. Do it. You’ve got my full support.” I cleared my throat and eased into my next sentence carefully watching her reaction. “I can pay you before it’s done, if you need me to.”

  Her cheeks darkened and she hunched forward to pull her pictures back into the folder. “It’s not gotten that desperate yet.”

  “You’ll come to me if it does, right?”

  She waved me off, but didn’t look at me. “You don’t have to worry about me, Josh. I’m cool.”

  “I know you’re cool, Kat, but just in case you’re ever not. Don’t go to Brian.”

  It was dangerous coming between them, I knew that. I mostly stayed out of it if I could because I couldn’t afford to piss off either one of them. And I didn’t want to. But in this I felt comfortable blocking Brian’s immediate threat.

  She hesitated, her hand came to linger over the silver heart-shaped necklace she wore at the hollow of her throat, a gift from someone, but I didn’t know who. She lifted her eyes towards Brian’s office and frowned.

  “Yeah, alright,” she murmured. “What would I do without you, Josh?”

  “Luckily, Kitty Kat, you’ll never have to find out.”

  3

  ____________

  Kat

  “Get your ass off the bar.”

  Brian lurched out of his office and soldiered to the bar with laptop and vendor files in hand. I sighed and Josh stepped back, offered me his hands, and I let him capture my waist and lift me down. I didn’t point out that I was like, forty pounds too heavy for him, and he didn’t act like he noticed. I leaned against the bar and fed myself peanuts while Josh leaned against the back bar and went back to wiping down his glasses.

  “I don’t know how many times you have to be told,” Brian went on. “This isn’t your personal playground.”

  I rolled my eyes and Josh rolled his. I nudged his boot with my toe and he nudged back.

  “Maybe just once more. I think I’ve almost got it.”

  Brian looked up and frowned. “That’s not funny.”

  Brat, Josh mouthed as he set one glass down only to pick up another. I grinned.

  “So what’s this party you’re going to tonight? Will there be drinking? Dancing? Boys?” Josh raised a teasing eyebrow. At the mention of the party, my heart gave a little stumble and I nearly choked on a peanut.

  “It’s, sort of, I guess a costume party? Julie’s picking me up. It’s nothing special. You know, pretty dresses and masks sort of thing. Lots of shameless, anonymous flirting.”

  Not a lie, but not even close to the truth. The truth made my palms sweat and sent a creeping tingle up my arms to my shoulder blades.

  Because it was something special. Something I couldn’t say out loud, especially not to adorable Josh who was, as far as I could tell, also kind of boring even though I loved him to death anyway. The bar kept him from dating much, so calmly telling him that I was going to a super-secret private bondage party for beginners was as impossible as inviting him to come with.

  I’m going to learn about spanking and submission, Josh. What are you doing tonight? Movie and popcorn with my brother? Cool, cool.

  Instead I smiled and tried not
to turn bright red.

  “So, like a masquerade?”

  “That’s exactly it.”

  He grinned. “Sounds hot.”

  I shoved a handful of peanuts into my mouth and nodded dutifully without answering.

  “You’re working tomorrow though, right?” Brian scowled. “Because you know Halloween is a huge night for…”

  “She’s not actually an employee,” Josh interrupted. “If she shows up, she shows up. We’re not enslaving her.”

  An image of leather wrist cuffs and strips of nylon rope flooded my thoughts. There was nothing you couldn’t learn from the internet and I’d spent every night for a week looking up whatever I could on bondage. It had been… educational. Surprising. Hot. A little embarrassing. Kind of scary.

  Without realizing it I’d wrapped my fingers around my right wrist and almost touched middle finger to thumb. When I glanced up, Josh was watching me, expressionless.

  When he realized I’d noticed, he returned his attention to the exceptionally clean glass in his hand.

  “Considering how much money I’ve lent her over the last few years, we sure as shit are,” Brian went on, ignoring his boss. Sometimes I had no idea how Josh put up with it. “She knows how important this night is for business. So do you. Stop coddling her.”

  “Yes, of course I’ll be here, and yet no to enslaving me. Don’t worry, Bri, I got your back.”

  “Fine. Good.” Brian flipped through a handful of papers, his scowl deepening the further to the bottom he got. “I can’t find that quote from Lamont. You seen it, Josh?”

  “Shit, yeah, it’s upstairs. I was going over the numbers last night.”

  “That’s my job,” Brian grunted. “I deal with vendors.”

  Josh shrugged. “I know, but Martin Lamont is a friend of mine. We worked out the quote together a few weeks ago over dinner. I just wanted to look at it one more time.”

  “You didn’t tell me that. You just said you wanted to consider a new vendor. You didn’t tell me that you’d, quote unquote, worked it out already or that he was a friend.”

  The way Brian bit out the word friend made me flinch.

  “I really don’t have to tell you why I want to do anything.”

  Brian opened his mouth to protest, but one cooling look from Josh put an end to that. Brian snapped his mouth shut tight as a corset and for a second they held each other’s gaze without speaking. Brian sometimes forgot South River wasn’t his, that Josh wasn’t really his best friend when he had to be his boss, that Brian wasn’t a real Murcek.

  That look made my cheeks warm and I busied myself with the peanut bowl until the tension eased.

  Most of the time Josh came off as easy going, wrinkled t-shirts and loose jeans, a trusting, wide smile and baby blue eyes like laser beams. His dimples were unreal, like if the messy, slightly curly dark hair sticking up every time he ran his hand through it wasn’t heartbreaking enough, then he flashed those killer dimples and WHAM, your heart thunked right into your boots. Needless to say, he’d been very popular in high school. And college. And whenever someone in heels sashayed into the South River. He looked like the kind of guy who’d get into a fist fight to protect his best friend. He looked like the kind of guy you wanted to take home and keep.

  But when he got serious, when you’d tested the limits of his patience, those eyes became storm clouds, turbulent and fierce that brooked no argument. When his voice dropped low, losing its affection, when those dimples vanished, you were screwed. You could feel his authority in your bones. I’d pushed him too far only twice and wouldn’t do it again for anything. Clearly Brian felt the same way.

  You know you’ve really fucked up when you’ve forced a nice guy to be mean.

  “Besides,” Josh went on, relaxing. The dimples appeared and disappeared as he spoke. “Martin Lamont is a good guy, and more importantly his local brewery makes fantastic beer. We can get a better price, shorter shipping, and I’ve offered to help him test some of his experimental stuff. This is a good deal for both of us. The quote’s on my coffee table. I’ll go get it.”

  “I can get it.” I tossed the peanut bowl aside and bounced forward in between Josh’s boots. Without waiting for permission, I slipped two fingers into his front pocket and swiped his keys. He raised an eyebrow and watched but didn’t stop me. I grinned and jingled them like hard earned treasure.

  “Last time I left you alone for ten minutes while I took a shower and you stole my coffee maker.”

  “Only because I didn’t have one.”

  “Yes, and then neither did I.”

  “But I really wanted some coffee.”

  “Oh well, when you put it that way.”

  I pouted a bit and leaned into him so that he had to make room for me between his arms. He faked a look of disapproval.

  “I promise to be very good.”

  “You really are kind of a brat sometimes.” Josh set his hand on my hip casually and set the glass and dish cloth down. I bit my bottom lip and he sighed, defeated. “Fine, go, but don’t steal anything. Or rifle through anything. And when you do anyway, don’t make a mess.”

  “Pinky swear.” I gave a little squeal and tried to pull away, but he held me still.

  “While you’re up there, why don’t you do the dishes, dust, vacuum. Be useful.”

  Brian snorted. “You’ve seen her apartment right? She doesn’t do her own dishes.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve become exceptional at using the dishwasher. It’s quite fancy.” I leaned my head against Josh’s arm and batted my eyelashes up at him. He gazed down, amused. “But if you want someone to pick up after you, Josh, get a girlfriend.”

  He tapped the tip of my nose. “I don’t need a girlfriend when I have you.”

  “If you think I’m as good as having a girlfriend, then you’re doing it wrong.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Really. What is it exactly I’m doing wrong?”

  “Don’t answer that.” Brian pointed his pen at the two of us menacingly. “Kat, stop flirting to get your way, it’s petty and kind of gross. The Lamont quote. Go. Now.”

  “Fine, fine. I’m going.” I squirmed out of Josh’s hands and swatted them away when he tried to grab me back. “You’re a bad, bad man, Murcek.”

  He laughed. “Apparently, not bad enough.”

  I could feel the blush work up my cheeks and down the back of my neck. Stupid Josh and his stupid smile. I made a bee line for the back staircase.

  “Don’t flirt with my sister,” Brian said when he thought I was out of earshot. “It’s disturbing.”

  “When exactly did you become a grouchy old man, Koile?”

  Brian didn’t answer and that made me feel surprisingly sad. So I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed my brother who’d gone from a fun loving bar manager to a you kids get the hell off my lawn! curmudgeon.

  I shoved my way into the upstairs hallway where Josh’s office and apartment lived. I let myself in and headed for the living room. I knew every inch of this apartment, had crashed here lots of times when I was in college, not so much since moving across the street. He kept the place neat, clean, modern. He liked the color blue, but only in little dashes, mostly everything was white or black or grey. Every room was tidy enough that he maybe bordered on anal retentive, but only a little. His wrinkled t-shirts and messy hair proved it didn’t translate to every part of his life.

  Aside from a few letters on the kitchen island, he didn’t keep many things out for me to fuss through anyway. I poked around in his fridge and cabinets and helped myself to a bag of white cheddar popcorn before wandering aimlessly from one freakishly tidy room to the next.

  He might actually have a heart attack if he saw the state of my apartment.

  If there was any justice in the world, he’d have a diary filled with filthy secrets I could relish digging through, but I’d hunted through every drawer and hiding spot in his bedroom several times over the years and never found so much as a hint of porn, let alo
ne anything really good. For his sake, I hoped he was just very good at hiding his dirty little secrets. Everyone deserved to have something that gave them shivers.

  I adored Josh. If I hadn’t known him since I was thirteen, I’d absolutely harbor a deep, unrequited crush on him. Maybe I did anyway. I flirted with him shamelessly, usually to get my way, and mostly it was all in fun.

  Sometimes I almost meant it.

  But sometimes I felt like he wasn’t quite here. Or that he was missing something vitally important and he was just waiting for it to appear before he could finally become the man he wanted to be. Even his apartment felt like he hadn’t quite moved himself in, like he hadn’t yet decided if he wanted to stay.

  He flirted back after all, which couldn’t be any less serious. I felt like maybe he was waiting for someone he wanted to love for real and Brian and me and our friends were just filling in the space for him as best we could until someone more deserving showed up.

  I didn’t really think that was true, but I was always a little afraid it might be. We sure as hell didn’t deserve him.

  His bedroom had that manly, artsy feel I loved. Three walls were exposed brick, old and a little flawed, with open pipes crisscrossing the high ceilings. He had a big modern art piece above his bed, a clash of people in the street as they poured out of a music hall. You could still see the melodies in their faces, the swaying hips and stomping feet. The colors were all too bright, too off, but the details of the people felt almost photo-real.

  One full wall across from his bed was nothing but books, mostly science fiction and mystery and a few non-fiction titles. Nothing telling. There were two pictures on one shelf - one of him as his father, and one of him, me, and Brian at my 21st birthday party. Josh had closed down for the night and invited only my closest friends. He hired a band and catered in dozens of different kinds of cupcakes in all shapes and sizes and colors. I’d eaten so many of them I felt sick at the very smell of buttercream for months.