Sweet for You: A BBW Billionaire Romance Read Free

dessert.”
    Abby decided to put on a show for the cameras and the hidden viewers, giving them more bang for their two hundred bucks. Picking up the spoon, she dipped it gently into the cheesecake.
    ~~~
    B ehind the wall of mirrors, Stephen Blake and his product team watched, mesmerized, as the pretty blonde – Abby Branson – made love to their dessert, teasing it with her spoon before slowly scooping up a bite and bringing it to her lush, pink lips. As she took the spoon into her mouth, she closed her eyes and let her head tilt back slightly, savoring the morsel with abandon before seductively sliding the spoon out of her mouth.
    The only woman in the room audibly sighed and two of the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying to adjust their spontaneous erections. Surprisingly, the usually-detached Mr. Blake felt a stirring of arousal, too. Something about this woman got his blood boiling. Outwardly, he managed to maintain his composure. But inwardly, the alluring taster behind the mirrored glass made his pulse quicken as if he was no more than a schoolboy.
    When the blonde abruptly stopped mid-chew and violently spit the bite of dessert into her napkin, none of them saw it coming. But, like fingernails on a chalkboard, they all felt her reaction on a visceral level. All eyes turned to Mr. Blake as his face darkened in displeasure.
    “Find out what just happened,” he barked, heading for the door, “and make sure you get this one back for Phase II.”
    ~~~
    “I s everything okay, Abby?” Mary asked, rushing to get her a glass of water, which she gulped down to dilute the terrible taste in her mouth.
    “This is the worst dessert I’ve ever tasted!”
    “Oh dear. Could you be a bit more specific please?”
    To explain, Abby chose an analogy that every woman, no matter what her size, could relate to. “Although it looks delicious, the taste made me feel duped, kind of like dating a really cute guy only to find out that he’s just a phony jerk who wants to get in your pants.”
    She paused for effect before continuing. “Your dessert is really cute on the outside, but inside its just artificial ingredients with a texture like cardboard.”
    “My, my. That doesn’t sound appetizing at all,” Mary said, leading Abby to realize that the bird-woman had never actually tried the product she was representing. Clearly, Mary didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.
    Lowering her voice, Abby asked, “Can I be blunt, Mary?”
    “Yes, of course,” Mary responded, leaning forward just a bit, as if the two women were sharing a secret.  
    “After one bite of this dessert,” Abby said dramatically before shifting her gaze toward the mirrored wall and the hidden people behind it, “you know you’ve been screwed.”
    ~~~
    S tephen Blake had watched the video of Abby Branson’s tasting experience a dozen times and was about to click the play button once again. Every bite she took elicited the same distasteful response.
    “Haven’t you seen enough, Stephen?” Martha asked, pressing the “off” button on the 72-inch wall-mounted monitor. Mr. Blake’s 60-year-old executive assistant was the only employee at Blake Foods who dared to call him by his first name and, in some ways, was like the mother he barely remembered. She had been with him since he took over as CEO of Blake Foods, Inc. fourteen years ago. He was only 25 then, but as the sole heir to the gourmet foods empire, he had been preparing for the role his entire life.
    “She’s an intriguing young woman, wouldn’t you agree, Martha?”
    “Intriguing, yes, and quite attractive. Maybe you should ask her to dinner.”
    “It would never work. We’re too different, she and I,” Stephen responded, his voice tinged with regret. It had been a while since he felt more than a passing attraction for a woman. A few years ago, he might have enjoyed getting to know Abby Branson better. But now, work – not romance – was his obsession.
    “Different how?”