Make You Mine (A BBW Romance)

By Tawny Taylor

The newest member of the Premier Consultants sales team, Daryl Laroche, is eager to find the perfect new client for her employer, a prestigious matchmaking company. And she has one very special guy in mind, Tevin Page. Tevin is every girl’s fantasy, hers included.

But things go very wrong when her soon-to-be client decides he doesn’t need her services. Not only does Tevin Page have a secret, but he thinks he’s already found his perfect woman--her. And this curvy girl’s life is about to change forever when he issues one deliciously tempting demand...

SAMPLE
He turned to face me fully. “What could any man possibly misjudge you for?”

“They all think, because I work for a dating service, that I’m looking for love.”
His brows lifted. “You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“No? Why?”

“Because I don’t get paid to find men for myself.” Not to mention, I’d learned the hard way that men who pay to be members of Premier like a different kind of woman. A woman who was educated, came from a rich family, and wore a size zero. “I need to get paid. Because my bills need to be paid.”

“I understand that, but don’t you ever feel lonely?” he asked as he meandered down the beach.

Falling into step beside him, I said, “I do. Sometimes. I go out with my friends. I meet new people. Like you.”

“And you immediately tried to enroll me in Premier’s dating service.”

“Yes. You’re an ideal candidate.”

He turned so suddenly, I bumped into him. We were chest to chest--kind of. Without my shoes, he had a good six or seven inches on me so my nipples were more in his upper abdomen region. Still, we were close. Too close. Close enough to...to kiss.

I swallowed hard.

I needed to step back, to put some space between us.

Step away.

Back.

Now.

Why the heck couldn’t I move?

He grabbed my arms as if he knew exactly what I was thinking and he didn’t want me to go. “Am I an ideal candidate for Premier? Or do you really want me for yourself but are afraid to admit it?”

Something big and hard coagulated in my throat. I swallowed hard, trying to push it down so I could speak. But it didn’t budge. I opened my mouth and tried to force the words past the lump, but nothing came out.

He tipped his head to the side, and his edge of his tongue swiped across his lower lip. His gaze locked to mine, and a feeling of panic raced through me.

He was going to kiss me again.

Oh God.

I closed my eyes just as his lips met mine. At least a thousand volts of electricity coursed through my body. Waves of heat pulsed through me as cool waves of water lapped at my ankles.

The kiss was soft. It was a quiet seduction, making me crave more. When I felt his tongue trace the seam of my mouth, I parted my lips and it dipped in.

Oh God.

He tasted so good.

Man. Wine. Sweet. Spicy.

His tongue caressed mine, and a little groan vibrated in my chest. In my head, words echoed, like, I need to stop this...must stop...now! My hands, having a mind of their own, and not listening to what my head was saying, started wandering up the front of his torso. My fingertips dipped into ridges cutting between bands of thick muscles. Pecs. Abs. Shoulders. Oh, I could tell they were utterly perfect.

As the kiss continued, it became more aggressive. His tongue didn’t gently caress mine anymore, it staked a claim. His hands skimmed up my arms, over my shoulders and cupped my neck. His fingers kneaded my muscles there, working out the tension as more, a different kind, wound through the rest of my body. Still, as my blood burned hotter and my muscles tensed, I kept telling myself I needed to stop. I needed to make it clear I wasn’t going to let him play these games anymore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Novel Mind Books
• Release date: Jan 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301207824

Tawny Taylor

Nothing exciting happens in Tawny Taylor's life, unless you count giving the cat a flea dip--a cat can make some fascinating sounds when immersed chin-deep in insecticide--or chasing after a houseful of upchucking kids during flu season. She doesn't travel the world or employ a staff of personal servants. She's not even built like a runway model. She's just your run-of-the-mill Detroit suburban mom and wife. That's why she writes, for the sheer joy of it. She doesn't need to escape, mind you. Despite being run-of-the-mill, her life is wonderful. She just likes to add some...zip. Her heroines might resemble herself, or her next door neighbor (sorry Sue), but they are sure to be memorable (she hopes!). And her heroes--inspired by movie stars, her favorite television actors or her husband--are fully capable of delivering one hot happily-ever-after after another. Combined, the characters and plots she weaves bring countless hours of enjoyment to Tawny...and she hopes to readers too! In the end, that's all the matters to Tawny, bringing a little bit of zip to someone else's life.

Book preview

Make You Mine (A BBW Romance)

by

Tawny Taylor

Published by Novel Mind Books

Copyright 2012 Tawny Taylor

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Books by Tawny Taylor

ABOUT THE BOOK

A BBW (Curves) Romance

The newest member of the Premier Consultants sales team, Daryl Laroche, is eager to find the perfect new client for her employer, a prestigious matchmaking company. And she has one very special guy in mind, Tevin Page. Tevin is every girl’s fantasy, hers included. Dark haired, possessing a stunning smile with more wattage than a power plant, and enough charm to put Don Juan to shame, he could easily become regular fodder for Daryl’s daydreams. Yes, oh yes. He’s the perfect prospect for Premier.

But things go very wrong when her soon-to-be client decides he doesn’t need her services. Not only does Tevin Page have a secret, but he thinks he’s already found his perfect woman--her. And this curvy girl’s life is about to change forever when he issues one deliciously tempting demand…

Get news about contests, free books, and new releases sent directly to your email inbox--sign up for my newsletter today: http://list.tawnytaylor.com.

BONUS CONTENT: Read an excerpt of Tawny’s recent release, AT HIS MERCY, and the sequel to Darkest Fire, DARKEST DESIRE, available now.

SAMPLE

Standing beside me, and staring out over the water, he said, That’s one of the things I enjoy most about this property. I feel like I can really relax here, be myself.

For some reason, that statement struck me as odd—be myself. You mean you aren’t always yourself?

I didn’t mean that, no. I just meant…I don’t know. Looking a little nervous, he shoved his hands in his pants pockets and took a step toward the water. People can be so judgmental sometimes.

What do you mean?

I mean, they see what you look like, what you wear, what you drive, and they make judgments based on that, rather than who you are on the inside.

I agree, I said as I waded into the water with him.

I just want to be known for who I am on the inside, he said.

The water was chilly but not too cold. As the gentle tide rolled in and out, the sand underneath my feet washed away. I stared down, at the sparkling water as I walked. I think most people feel that way. At least, they do when it comes to finding someone, a partner, a spouse.

This was nice, this simple connection, honest conversation. I liked it. A lot.

I suppose you’re right. I guess everyone is judged, perhaps unfairly. His hand brushed against mine and a little tremor of awareness swept through my body.

It’s happened to me, too, I admitted.

It has? He turned to face me fully. What could any man possibly misjudge you for?

They all think, because I work for a dating service, that I’m looking for love.

His brows lifted. You’re not?

Nope.

No? Why?

Because I don’t get paid to find men for myself. Not to mention, I’d learned the hard way that men who pay to be members of Premier like a different kind of woman. A woman who was educated, came from a rich family, and wore a size zero. I need to get paid. Because my bills need to be paid.

I understand that, but don’t you ever feel lonely? he asked as he meandered down the beach.

Falling into step beside him, I said, I do. Sometimes. I go out with my friends. I meet new people. Like you.

And you immediately tried to enroll me in Premier’s dating service.

Yes. You’re an ideal candidate.

He turned so suddenly, I bumped into him. We were chest to chest--kind of. Without my shoes, he had a good six or seven inches on me so my nipples were more in his upper abdomen region. Still, we were close. Too close. Close enough to…to kiss.

I swallowed hard.

I needed to step back, to put some space between us.

Step away.

Back.

Now.

Why the heck couldn’t I move?

He grabbed my arms as if he knew exactly what I was thinking and he didn’t want me to go. Am I an ideal candidate for Premier? Or do you really want me for yourself but are afraid to admit it?

Something big and hard coagulated in my throat. I swallowed hard, trying to push it down so I could speak. But it didn’t budge. I opened my mouth and tried to force the words past the lump, but nothing came out.

He tipped his head to the side, and his edge of his tongue swiped across his lower lip. His gaze locked to mine, and a feeling of panic raced through me.

He was going to kiss me again.

Oh God.

I closed my eyes just as his lips met mine. At least a thousand volts of electricity coursed through my body. Waves of heat pulsed through me as cool waves of water lapped at my ankles.

The kiss was soft. It was a quiet seduction, making me crave more. When I felt his tongue trace the seam of my mouth, I parted my lips and it dipped in.

Oh God.

He tasted so good.

Man. Wine. Sweet. Spicy.

His tongue caressed mine, and a little groan vibrated in my chest. In my head, words echoed, like, I need to stop this…must stop…now! My hands, having a mind of their own, and not listening to what my head was saying, started wandering up the front of his torso. My fingertips dipped into ridges cutting between bands of thick muscles. Pecs. Abs. Shoulders. Oh, I could tell they were utterly perfect.

As the kiss continued, it became more aggressive. His tongue didn’t gently caress mine anymore, it staked a claim. His hands skimmed up my arms, over my shoulders and cupped my neck. His fingers kneaded my muscles there, working out the tension as more, a different kind, wound through the rest of my body.

Still, as my blood burned hotter and my muscles tensed, I kept telling myself I needed to stop. I needed to make it clear I wasn’t going to let him play these games anymore.

Somehow finding the strength to resist, I pushed against his chest with both hands. Our mouths parted. But he didn’t step back.

What’s wrong? he asked. He didn’t look confused or upset. In fact, he looked…amused.

Why are you playing me? I snapped as I struggled to understand what the hell was going on.

I’m not playing you.

Then why do you look so smug?

His eyes widened, but that crooked smile remained in place. I look smug?

Yes.

No. Really?

Yes, really.

I’m not playing you. I swear. I… He visibly swallowed. And in that instant, I caught a look of vulnerability that made me doubt what I’d thought mere seconds before. I enjoyed that kiss. I thought you were enjoying it too.

I couldn’t tell him I had. Even though I did. I stared straight ahead, at the sparkling water. For some reason, I licked my lower lip. It still tasted like him. A little aftershock swept through me. I did a one-eighty and started back to the house. I agreed to go on a date with you, but I never said I’d sleep with you.

Chapter 1

Roughly three hundred sixty three days a year, I knew without a doubt I had the world’s best job. Spending afternoons lounging in a café, mainlining white chocolate mocha Frappuccino, and nights sipping top shelf wine was not a bad way to make a buck. Especially when I was doing so while socializing with single men who were--for the most part--extremely pleasing to the eye, unbelievably rich, and in the market for love,.

But every now and then, I had a day like today.

I need to find a man. Poking at my salad, I cast a hopeful glance around the restaurant-slash-jazz-bar where my best friend and I were having our regular Friday night dinner, or at least, I was eating dinner. Sasha had opted for a liquid meal, as usual.

Don’t we all, honey, Sasha said with a chuckle as she gave her long hair a flip. I haven’t been on a date in months.

Not for me, silly. I need to find a new client. I haven’t closed a deal in over a month. Not one. I stabbed a tomato with my fork.

Don’t worry. Your boss loves you.

Loved. Past tense, Sasha. I’m new. And the honeymoon’s over. The way things are looking, I’ll be collecting unemployment soon…and living under a bridge. Marguerite doesn’t smile when she sees me anymore; she glowers. It’s only a matter of time before I’m kicked to the curb. I poked at my house salad, light dressing, with my fork. Clearly my definition of light didn’t match the waitress’.

You’re exaggerating.

I wish I was. Sasha, a novelist who was still living at home with her parents, hadn’t sold a book in two years, and had recently parted ways with her agent, might be neck deep in denial, but I wasn’t. As the sole source of income in my household, and a girl who’d learned not so long ago that I needed to do whatever was necessary to survive, I knew I needed to land a new contract. Soon. Like, yesterday.

Or I’d have to go crawling back to my mother’s sister for help.

I’d rather die than do that.

After my mother and father had been unjustly convicted of murdering my little brother four years ago, my aunt had been shoved into the role of surrogate parent. It wasn’t a role she filled eagerly.

I had to get a new contract. Had to.

But signing a new contract was easier said than done. Premier was the most prestigious matchmaking company in the state, catering to highly selective clients who required discretion and complete privacy. The chances of stumbling upon a man who’d meet Premier’s minimum requirements in a place like this--not that it was a dump--were slim to none. Regardless of the fact that it was a Friday night. And every booth and table was packed. And eligible men of all shapes, sizes, and