Chaos & Curves: The Complete Series [A Motorcycle BBW Erotic Romance]: Chaos & Curves (A Motorcycle BBW Erotic Romance)

By Marlo Peterson

A new motorcycle BBW erotic romance series collection from Marlo Peterson!

Mara just wants to get away.

After dealing with a messy break up and a dead end job, she packs up and moves from the home she knew, to start all over. While working at a hole in the wall bar, she crosses paths with CHAOS, a motorcycle gang that plays by their own rules and gets what they want.

The leader, Landon, takes a liking to Mara and lets her know that she's always wanted a bad boy and has always wanted to be free, but has been stifled by society's rules.

She finds the dangerous, bad boy lifestyle sexy, but has she made a deal with the devil in the process?

With past, present and future converging into a firestorm of emotion and turmoil, this 40,000-word, 3-part series will come to a smashing conclusion that will change Mara and Landon’s worlds forever.

Mature audiences for some steamy erotic content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marlo Peterson
• Release date: Jan 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507049402

Marlo Peterson

About the Author Marlo Peterson is an erotica author who weaves tales of domination and submission, love found in the strangest places and sizzling erotica romance. If you enjoy gripping, seductive love scenes, you'll be on the edge of your seat. Many of these raunchy stories feature strong minded and strong hearted women who are swept away by alpha males. Each story oozes with sexy, delicious detail, and will make you want more. You can collect them all, because as long as you have a thirst for sweet-hot erotica, Marlo Peterson will be writing it!

Book preview

Chaos & Curves: The Complete Series

A Motorcycle BBW Erotic Romance

Marlo Peterson

© 2014 Marlo Peterson

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A deep and heartfelt Thank You goes out to my readers for supporting me and allowing me to live the life of my dreams. Enjoy this latest work and stay beautiful.

~MP

1

Hard times.

I keep reminding myself that this change was for the better, but right now, in this moment, life was seeming like more of the same.

Mara! Table twelve has been eyeballing their onion rings for a half an hour! We need you to see if they’re ready to order or not, my boss, Henry barked out.

I was still shuffling between the glasses sitting on the counter in the back, which needed to be freshened with ice water, so that table four wouldn’t die of thirst. In my haste, I couldn’t figure out which set of glasses was clean and which were dirty, so I grabbed the first ones my hands went to. They won’t know either way.

Yes, Mr. Yates. I’m dropping these waters off, and then I’ll be right with Table twelve, I said.

My feet, which felt especially clunky today, scampered over to the table, weaving and dodging between the many people who packed the aisles and hallways of Henry’s Diner & Pub this hectic Friday evening.

I had only been working here a month, ever since I made the dash from my old life, which was about 3 hours from here in the town I grew up.

My salary back home was great as an accountant, but I hated my job and the people there, had just gotten out of a messy relationship and just wanted a change of pace. Taking a job as a waitress, while I figure out what I really want out of this world was fine with me—I was done with the whole degree chasing, ass kissing rat race.

I knew that there was more to life than just grabbing invisible brass rings, but until I figure out what that something is—I’m delivering water to table four.

Sorry I took so long. Here’s your wa—

I didn’t get to finish.

As the words were leaving my mouth, they stayed lodged in my throat as I stood frozen in time, unable to move or react, watching in horror, as the glasses of water I had hastily filled up flew from the tray I was carrying into thin air, and onto the ground, one crash after another.

Shit! I said at the top of my lungs, before my better judgment could make me take a deep breath.

Don’t worry ‘bout it. It happens to the best of us. You’re new. Won’t be the first and won’t be the last, Darlene said, a couple hours after my great mishap, as she took a drag of her cigarette.

We were in our standard girls circle, which was a ritual for the waitresses and other female staff that worked here. This ladies circle typically consisted of smoking and swearing that would probably put the male staff to shame.

Darlene had taken a liking to me since I started working here a month ago for some reason, and even let me have the old fold out couch that she was about to throw out. She was about 7 years my senior, but somehow seemed like she had lived way more life than that. I’m knocking on 30 and feel that I’m just now starting to have half an idea of what life is all about.

As she flicked her cigarette and reached into her pack for another, Darlene obligatorily extended the carton toward me, offering me a smoke. For the first time since taking this job and uprooting my life, I accepted.

Darlene’s eyes were amused as she slipped the pack into her purse and sparked her next smoke. As I tried to figure out which end you inhale, she switched it around between my fingers and pressed her cigarette to mine, puffing a bit of air to it, so that I had a good light.

She looked me up and down before taking another drag.

So you’re one of us tonight? Must mean you have something on your mind, Darlene said.

I pressed the cigarette to my lips and inhaled slowly, surely looking like an amateur. I inhaled a little at a time, letting the nicotine enter my body as I relaxed my shoulders.

Yeah. A few broken glasses coming out of my second check ain’t a good way to start the weekend, I suppose, I said.

Girlfriend, if I had a well-hung frat boy for the number of times I broke a glass, you would probably start to think I was breaking them on purpose. It happens. Especially when you got the male species on your mind. I know that look, she said, pointing the cigarette toward me to emphasize that point.

I took a deep breath, as I tried to remember how my relationship ended, so I could properly recount the story to Darlene. As I spilled my thoughts to her, I wondered why my breakup with Kevin weighed so heavily on my mind today, when I should be feeling a sense of liberation because of it...

2

It had to have been the third wardrobe change of the day. I had just run up a serious bill at Adamandeve.com, ordering the highest quality lingerie.

My relationship with Kevin had been lacking, so I was looking for anything to spice it up. It was a Saturday afternoon that started off cloudy and pouring rain, which should have been a sign that this wasn’t going to be my day.

After I made a fresh brunch from scratch, I figured maybe Kevin and I would go for a hike, play tennis, check out a matinee—something. But since the weather wasn’t cooperating, Kevin ended up catching several matinees on Netflix, leaving me to wander the apartment in search of ways to entertain myself.

Taking a stand and expecting him to get off his ass and ravish me, I was finding little moments to prance in front of the television, decked out in the sexy lingerie that I had been saving for a rainy day. This day was as rainy as any, but I wasn’t getting the responses from Kevin that I had hoped for. In fact, I wasn’t getting any response at all.

I pulled out my final number, the sexiest, reddest thong, fishnet, pumps and see through bra combination that my dirty mind allowed me to order. I bravely put it on, unsure of how I would pull it off, but when I checked myself out in the mirror, I looked stunning.

This line of lingerie was particularly friendly to my curves and made my milky white sit up extra proper. I was freshly waxed, so the material felt especially sexy against my bare skin.

Here goes nothing.

I placed a hand on my hip and strutted my stuff as hard as I could strut it into the living room, picking up a feather duster that happened to be lying around, en route.

When I got to the TV, I bent all the way over, letting Kevin see my round, plump bottom at all its juicy angles. I pretended to dust various items around the entertainment center and gave him my sexiest duck face, as he lie on the couch, wrapped in blankets.

I moved my hips left to right and puckered my lips, hoping he appreciated the thought that I put into finding the perfect color to match my rosy cheeks. Again, I got no response. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t even tell if he was awake or not.

Could you get out of the way? I’m trying to watch this documentary, so that I can get some ideas for the pot farm I’m going to start, Kevin said.

He was awake, all right.

I threw my feather duster to the ground, annoyed.

Am I invisible to you? I’ve been walking in front of the television all day and can’t get as much as a whistle out of you, I said.

That’s disrespectful to women, Kevin said.

Whatever, smartass, I said.

I began to storm out of the room, but stopped in my tracks, as though I ran into an invisible wall. Our relationship has lacked passion for the longest, so I wasn’t about to let this slide anymore.

I reached down onto the coffee table for the remote, and powered the television off.

Kevin sat up from the couch.

What the fuck! I was watching that! he said.

For your ‘pot farm’. I know, I said, equally as annoyed.

What’s going on with us?

Kevin looked at me confused.

What do you mean, us? You’re the one prancing around half naked like some crazy woman, he said.

Crazy woman? Excuse me for trying to look sexy for you. Not that you’d notice or care anyway, I said.

Oh, here we go with the sob stories, he said.

Sob stories? Is that what you call wanting to have actual intimacy with my boyfriend? I asked, incredulously.

I suddenly felt very naked in front of him—and not in a good way.

Listen, I don’t know what you want from me, he said.

This is it.

What is it? I asked.

You’re always talking about how you want to go to Paris and climb Mt. Fuji and meet the president and all that shit. Well, newsflash—we ain’t rich and that’s not the life that we’re going to live. We got Netflix and college football. You need to appreciate the good things in life and stop living in some damn fantasy world, listening to your stupid ass friends, Kevin said.

I was almost speechless. I couldn’t be more turned off by such a defeatist way of looking at the world. Comfort is nice, but the idea of watching Netflix and college football until my boyfriend, who hasn’t worked a job in the 5 years we’ve dated, finally knocks me up three or four times.

Seeing him lying on the couch, questioning my desire to want things out of life suddenly made everything clear to me.

He wasn’t going to change.

Kevin was still going to drink way too much beer every single day. He was rarely going to leave the couch. He was never going to get along with my parents. He was never going to work and he was always going to make excuses for not doing so—including always having some get rich quick scheme on the backburner—

including the pot farm he’s been talking about for years.

All of this suddenly felt like my fault, because I was trying to make something work that wasn’t designed to. And even worse, I had him here living with me.

I think we need to take a break, I said.

The words leapt from my tongue before I could even think about them.

A break? Kevin asked, twisting up his face.

"Yes, a break. Actually, I’m sorry—no, not a break. I think we should just not do this anymore," I said.

You breakin’ up with me?

As I looked at him, I couldn’t feel anything but relief—relief that this relationship was about to be over. I never imagined us breaking up before, but in this moment, it just became abundantly clear to me that I had completely outgrown this.

Yes, I said to him.

He stood to his feet and looked down at me with fire in his eyes. It’s the most aggressive I’ve seen Kevin in a long time, as he typically was engaged in a nap or some other form of apathy.

You’ll never fucking do better than me,