Training Her Curves - London (A BBW Billionaire Domination & Submission Romance) Read Free

set foot in the hotel again.
    Another rasping tear appeared in the wrapping paper as my hands refused to stop shaking. I placed my palms against my cheeks, reminding myself it wasn't the staff discovering my naked body rendered on canvas and oils that I was freaking out over. I had resigned myself to the possibility of an accidental public discovery before agreeing to Rick's terms.
    Perhaps what had me freaking out was something else entirely. On the other side of the paper shielding the portrait beneath, the first glimpse of him -- my rope master -- could be waiting. The thought of him, a man I had no name for beyond the endearment of Baku I had given him while trying to hold onto my sanity from all the pleasure he delivered, turned me instantly wet.
    Remembering it could be Simon, I turned dry just as fast.
    Too have been tricked like that by one man I considered a friend and another I all but loathed was unbearable. Not to mention Dylan's feelings about St. Simon. My big brother would think I was the world's biggest idiot.
    And on this point, he might just be right.
    Dragging and pushing the white leather chair from the desk area, I climbed onto the seat, boots and all, and balanced precariously while I strong armed the twine closer to one corner. Returning the chair to the desk, I rummaged through the drawers, coming up with scissors, box cutters and a roll of tape.
    Taking the box cutters, I carefully sliced the rest of the tape along the front seam. Pulling gently, I peered into the sliver of space to find a representation in oils of nothing more than my flesh. If I wanted to know whether Baku was included in the portrait, I would need to peel more of the wrapping paper to the side.
    I swapped the razor for the scissors and started to cut. I had the bottom edges cut and was about to drag the chair back over to cut along the top when the phone on the desk rang. I wanted to ignore it and finish unwrapping the portrait, but there was the chance Jo hadn't been able to reach my cell and was dialing my room with news of Mishka.
    "Hello?" I answered, cradling the phone against my ear as I tugged the chair in place with both hands.
    A woman's crisp British accent informed me that St. Simon was on his way up.
    "Stop him!" I blurted.
    "Miss?" Her tone sounded like I'd just sworn that the earth was flat. "I'm sorry, but he's already on the way up. The elevator doors closed as you were answering."
    With no time for politeness, I hung up and returned to the package. I wasted a few seconds trying to decide if I should immediately begin sealing the paper or seeing as much as I could and doing a quick and dirty re-wrap. The seconds were wasted because I knew my rope master had insisted on his anonymity. Rick wouldn't have included the man's face in the portrait.
    I jerked the roll of tape from the desk and dropped to my knees.
    "Damn it!" I swore at my stupidity. "Why didn't I back out when that son of a bitch sprung another person on me? Idiot, idiot, idiot!"
    I had just finished calling myself an idiot for the third time when a confident rap of knuckles landed against the door to my suite. Apparently the elevators ran faster when the big boss was in them -- or I had spent more time in indecision than I realized.
    "Just a minute!" I yelled, hoping my voice was loud enough to cover the distance and penetrate heavy doors that were meant to provide a nearly absolute noise barrier. Messily, I finished taping the bottom and started running the roll up the vertical cut I had made.
    I heard a beep, the sound telling me St. Simon had just swiped his all-access card. My lungs seized and my bladder almost emptied until I remembered that I had set the inside latch.
    "Pushy bastard," I hissed under my breath. Whether he had heard my order for him to wait or not, it was just like him to disregard both my wishes and my boundaries. The man would call me any time before midnight and after five in the morning no matter how many times I reminded him