Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance): A Game Served Spicy (Book One): Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance): A Game Served Spicy, #1

By Shelby Mitchell

Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance) Book One 

Book Two: Available Now!

Sometimes losing is the best thing that can happen to a guy. When a hot, sexy gamer geek obsessed with winning meets his match in a sassy, take no crap 'cook', sparks fly and a game served spicy begins. 

Micah James is tall, excessively handsome, a brilliant success as a top video game programmer and a jerk of the first order. Used to flashing a smile and a wink to get whatever he wants, Micah knows what he wants right now and it's for the local supermarket deli 'cook' to be his personal chef. What he's not ready for is the battle of wills he'll soon engage in when he meets his match in Nori Blackmon. 

Nori Blackmon is sassy, curvy and determined to make a success of her life, not matter the cost or sacrifice. She has little time for the spoiled, good looking frat boy demanding she drop everything to come work for him as his personal chef. His arrogance knows no bounds and his inability to take no for an answer rubs her the absolute wrong way. 

When their worlds collide, neither is ready for the perfect and powerful chemistry that exists between them or that a love like this can form between two people with such different lives and dreams. 

Him & Her is a contemporary love story between a man and woman moving in different directions until fate intervenes to offer them a new one--with each other. 

Note: This book has a continuation to the next book (cliff hanger). If you do not like reading series of this nature, this book and storyline may not be for you. For real. 

This sexy, fun, witty novel by Shelby Mitchell is a BWWM (Black Woman White Man) Interracial romance that contains adult subject matter, descriptive sex, adult language and mature topics including sex between a billionaire and a curvy, voluptuous black woman. For adults only--Not suitable for readers under 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wise Mind Media
• Release date: Aug 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516364800

Shelby Mitchell

Shelby Mitchell is an avid storyteller and sees her world as a great love adventure waiting to be told. Her love of love, romance and all the what-if possibilities has been a part of her from as long as she can remember. After years of painting pictures with her words for friends and family, she finally took the plunge to share her stories with strangers and is now a full-time author primarily in romance (including Paranormal, Erotica and Contemporary).       Shelby lives in the southern US but allows her stories to transverse wherever her imagination takes her. She cherishes her family, honors her readers and believes that the ability to write stories that are clever, sexy and intelligent is a gift.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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But I can’t cook! Come on. Are you sure? … help a brother out here, I say looming over her by a full head and a little too much in her personal space.

We’re squared off in a showdown in the middle of the hot food section of the fancy organic supermarket food chain I frequent.

This gesture is as much a dare as I’m willing to make in a very public place with this woman—a perfect stranger but dare I admit—an opponent in a battle of wills.

There’s some mystical element that draws me in—enjoying this challenge. Something’s let me know she’s different and I should be on my game. All the same, having the height advantage is a tactic I’m not ashamed to use on her in my attempt to get the upper hand.

Women love tall men, right? I know I may be pushing it a bit with that ‘brother’ reference too, but I’m determined to persuade her to my side; and win. I want her as my personal chef and I’m not taking no for an answer.

Brother? You must have bumped your head on those glass food protectors over there, she says, waving to the rows and rows of hot food buffet items with a behemoth-serving spoon.

It’s a little too close to my face for my liking. Several serving utensils, like this one wielded by hungry customers, fill the air with clangs of bustling activity dishing up her scrumptious food around us.

An emotion-infused lyrical tone snatches my attention back to her. "Um-hm. Look, you poor-excuse-for-a-Chris-Evans-Captain-America wannabe! I am not a cast member from The Help that you can boss around. Nor am I interested in your… pitiful offer. She’s riled up and I’ve offended her—not good. But she’s not done with me yet as she says, I said no, I don’t want to be your personal chef, so let’s leave it at that."

Her chest heaves beneath a food-smeared apron with protracted breaths. She visibly fights to seize control of some nerve I’ve struck.

Good. I’m breaking down her defenses.

Large brown eyes of assessment scan me, carefully—slowly. From the looks of it, she’s definitely not that impressed. When she leans in a bit, my pulse jumps at the wonder of her calculated movement.

In a whispered promise she says, And if you ask me if I’m sure one more time, I’m going to show you how certain I am!

Wow—primitive and raw. This is beyond the best battle I’ve had in a long time.

Powerful food aromas swarming around us are not enough to conquer the delicate but enticing fresh scent of lemons and spicy ginger that waft from her to tickle my senses with her closeness. It all works to make my curiosity level in her spike.

This opponent has some interesting moves. She’s not intimidated by me—at all. Hmm… okay, time to change up my strategy and press in with a bit of charm. Time to bring in the big guns.

Expressive blue eyes on command and an open smile of straight pearly whites may be genetic gifts from my parents—or so I’ve been told—but I’ve learned to elevate them to a highly skilled assault weapon most never see coming. I’m like that character Puss in Boots from Shrek with my ability to disarm and conquer with them.

Attack!

I concentrate a steady gaze on her, showing as much warmth as I can muster with my eyes. Nothing exists except my focus on her. No sounds, movement or thoughts—just my intense and hopefully hypnotic stare. She’ll give me what I want. How can she refuse?

Determined, I add in the smile of the century that usually gets me what I want with women, all while trying to be as cool as possible.

Don’t be mean, I purr in my most charming, soft way possible. You’d be helping to feed a video game industry titan—me, haha.

Nothing. No response. Nada. Is she blind? Women of all ages, types and races love my eyes. These babies get them every time. I have it on good authority—women tell me how much they love my eyes and my smile. What’s wrong with this woman?

Then it hits me. It’s obvious--she doesn’t know who I am although I don’t know why not. I mean, come on, I’m the famous Micah James—the top video game designer around. And what about my company MJ Game Designs—MJGD for short? Highest grossing creator of the latest multi-player universe game releases? We’re on fire.

I can’t—no I won’t suffer defeat, not from a supermarket cook of all people. Damn, this isn’t going how I planned and she’s a hard nut to crack. I’ve got to admit nothing seems to be working. I’ve greatly underestimated her. She is proving to be a very worthy opponent indeed.

In challenging response, she throws back a most definitely menacing glare at me. Her eyes are large and bright with brown irises that look more like liquid chocolate than the harsh points of death I think she’s attempting to show. Her eyes are sort of…nice, with a dash of Meany thrown in for good measure.

One thing I hate to admit is how much I enjoy the challenge of a headstrong woman and the one standing in front of me is doing the trick.

She’s not my usual type and a little on the short side, but there’s something about her that’s… seductive. She could stand to fix herself up a little, but I’ve got to say, she’s got fire and some choice words for me and I like them—a lot.

I’m not done trying to win her over though, the challenge is just too much fun.

I know, let’s try controversial.

I counter with, What? You think just because I’m some ‘white guy’, I think you’re a maid? Now, that’s just not right. You can make assumptions about me, spew them out and get a free pass. But if I do the same, I’m labeled racist? There, that ought to set her off.

Ha--take that oh short one. I cross my arms over my chest, ready to stand back and enjoy the fireworks.

Come to think of it, she appears to be a lot of fun and I’d love to have her around. …Ooh, look at that face she’s making now. I need to memorize it.

The eyes, yes they’re big but able to express so much in a flash. Couple them with her well defined cheek bones and a full mouth that’s formed into a perfect sneer right now and she’s got a highly animated face—and body for that matter. She’d translate well into a video game persona.

I can see it now; gamers would eat up the chance to pick her as an avatar—eyes that can grow to throw dangerous spears of immobilizing power and a mouth that unleashes a sword so quick and deadly, it can decapitate someone in nanoseconds with a single swipe. I bet I could make an award-winning game avatar with all her unique expressions alone.

And just like that to my surprise… in a flash she blindsides me with a smile so kind and sweet, it makes my dick twitch with excitement.

No sir, thank you for your offer. It’s very flattering, but I’m committed to my job here. Now, if there’s anything else I can do to aid in your shopping experience, please let me know. If not, I must return to my other duties. The smile never quite reaches those eyes though.

Her new saccharin sweet, perfectly enunciated voice is like experiencing a multiple personality Sybil movie star casting. It’s happening so fast, I’m disoriented for a moment. The smile slides from her face for a split second before I see it shoot back up into place.

What the hell is going on?

What just happened and why the 180-degree turn around? Who took away my spitfire? I pivot, searching for the culprit. Ah, there’s the dickhead! That guy over there across the store floor—looking like he’s drunk with power that only comes from being a big fish in a small pond—is looking directly at us, with a not-so-friendly scowl playing across his saggy features.

Great, Dickhead must be the manager of this fine establishment. He’s on the move, heading straight in our direction. He’s eating up the distance like a crocodile in pursuit of a wayward limb in the water. I’m still trying to figure out why in the hell he looks so pissed and how we’ve somehow become his target as he approaches.

I look back at my little spitfire just as she turns to leave. It’s too late to try to stop her. Damn.

I’ve been a regular at this particular local organic supermarket for the last few years and this is the first time the food on the hot bar has been this good, exceptional even. One bite and I had to know the individual responsible for the changes. A few questions later and here I am, face-to-face with this mad as hell woman. And from the looks of it, her manager wants in on the fun too. I can’t buy this type of entertainment!

Not so fast there, he says, directing a curt command and his attention to the retreating cook and then back to me. Ahem, sir, is there a problem I can help you with? The rosacea on his cheeks is amazing and it matches his red hair; I can make out the blood vessels from here.

Man, I’ve got to stop obsessing about facial features so much. This new ultra realistic video game design I’m creating has me in obsessive fascination mode with every face I see.

Dammit! Another squirrel moment. I’ve got to stay focused on the task at hand. Get my personal chef—right—back to it.

I try my best to pull my attention away from his unusually red face and back to the amazing cook who’s food is more like that of a highly trained chef. She’s a huge talent I’ve just discovered and her cooking is being lost and under appreciated to hell in this place. I frown. She’s actually still trying to get away, like she’s hell bent on inching back into that kitchen.

The spirit of the ultimate gamer rises in me and I can’t turn back from this challenge. It’s just too damn addictive. Oh no you don’t! You’re going to be my chef if it’s the last thing I do. I will win this one. Sorry, baby! I won’t take defeat as an answer. My inner gamer beast beats his chest in battle cry.

The likely manager stands here—in the way.

Go away annoying one. I will him, but he’s not budging.

Why is he here anyway? I didn’t call for his help. The too tight smile plastered across his red infused face is failing in its intended attempt to show concern for me and my predicament. Instead, all I see from him is contempt toward my soon-to-be-chef.

Well, I’ll be… maybe there’s a way to use this to my advantage. It’s doubtful he uses diplomacy, let alone can spell it. He’s no match for her and he knows it. This is too easy. I’ll appeal to his egotistical need for power, watch him implode in defeat at being kind and highlight to her how much of a dickhead he is. She’ll realize how much this is beneath her talents and how little her co-workers care about her as an employee. Then I’ll sweeten my offer for her services with the charm and grace of a civilized employer and come out looking like the hero. She’ll quit this place and come running into my employ.

Brilliant plan and so I engage it and say, "No, there isn’t a problem. I was just complimenting this excellent employee on her cooking skills."

He’s not buying what I’m selling—good boy. Now show your ass I mentally command to him.

Is that all? He asks looking back and forth between us, totally unconvinced. It looked like you were being disrespected. We never allow our employees to interact this way with customers. The jowls of his cheeks lift and draw back in another attempt to show his disapproval towards the cook.

Bingo! Just as I thought, I have a member of management in my midst with a massive ego. I’m so using this to my advantage. Make him so disgusting to her; she’ll be begging to come work for me.

Time to play dirty. Well, to be honest, I made a request that she flatly refused to honor.

What! You bast— she begins, her reflexive response is too awesome, but she manages to catch it in the nick time. I really get under her skin. Nice!

Is that true, Nori? Dickhead asks, his voice dripping with heightened contempt. "Did you refuse to help a customer? You ought to know better but I guess you wouldn’t." The way he speaks down to her grates my nerves and makes me dislike him immensely. She’s not an imbecile, you ingrate! Why is he talking to her like that?

Stiff as a stone monument, she stands there taking what he’s dishing out. You don’t have to take that from him. He’s weak. Fight back, like you did with me! My inner voice screams and pleads with her to stand up for herself. But, she’s resolute.

This is crazy. Time for me to intimidate and destroy him.

I stand up to my full six feet three inches and get into his personal space, just to the side of him, very stealthy like. Let him deal with me. I step closer to him and look down with as much menace in my eyes as possible. He takes a wise move back but not away. Looks like I might be going to jail tonight for assault if he doesn’t lay off.

Look man, I don’t need your help here, I say motioning to her. I was just complimenting your chef when you came up—

She holds up a hand to stop me and still says nothing, instead flashing me a pleading look, so quick, I think I imagine it.

The ginger is furious now. Red eyebrows contort to form wicked arches as he peers at her. "Nori, I’m going to ask you one more time, did you refuse

Reviews for Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance)

[yaenette · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved the characters. Very down to earth and realistic. The passion is hot and steamy! Enjoy!

[Tabithatt85 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Very personable characters.

[Phindile Mntambo · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It’s was a fun read, so much so that I’m interested in reading the 2nd book. I love the way the characters are profiled: I feel like I understand who they are, what they do and how they think.

It bores me though how books have become series episode. Whatever happened to releasing complete standalone books?