Curves For Her Basketballer

By Leslie Hunter

Genre: Curvy Girl Romance / BBW Interracial Romance

Becky's a curvy veteran-turned-bodyguard looking for her place in the civilian world. 

Jamal's the bad boy of basketball, a player who loves hitting on even the most locked-down of ladies.

To prevent a lawsuit—or worse—and keep Jamal in check, the team owner hires Becky to watch his back. But Jamal is nothing like she expected… and his muscled ebony skinned body is just what she desires. There’s no way he's into full-figured women... or is he? 

This 14,900-word full figured romance contains detailed explicit descriptions of sex between a curvy bodyguard and her tightly-muscled client. 

It's intended for the enjoyment of adult readers only (especially those who love interracial love stories with a large splash of romance). 

Author Note: This is a standalone romance with no cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie Hunter
• Release date: Sep 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516317158

Book preview

CURVES FOR HER BASKETBALLER

by Leslie Hunter

CURVES FOR HER BASKETBALLER

Leslie Hunter

WriterLeslieHunter.com

All Rights Reserved ©2016 Leslie Hunter. First Printing: 2016.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Author’s Note: All characters in this story are 19 years of age and older.

If you notice any errors, I’d appreciate a heads up please.

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CURVES FOR HER BASKETBALLER

Despite my efforts to control my shaky knee, the office chair squeaked as Michelle went over my resume. With her impassive expression, I wasn’t sure if I impressed. Her pulled back silver hair and thick black framed glasses gave her a severity I hadn’t seen since the army.

In my peripheral vision I saw photos of basketball players from decades past on the wall. They all had two things in common. They played for the same team and were all extremely yummy.

I sucked in a quick breath and stared at different shades of skin stretched over flexed out muscles. Employee perk if I get the job.

I pulled at my ‘interview’ clothes. It’s hard to find clothing in my size. Even if I could find something comfortable, years in the army stunted my social skills. I know enough to be polite – usually – but after years of military attire, I’m still not sure what to pick up from Lane Bryant.

I just grab whatever’s comfortable. Besides, my record should speak for itself. I shouldn’t have to dress in a skirt and heels.

Still maybe I should have. This is one of the premier basketball teams in the country.

I’d ask one of my girlfriend’s for something but they’re not my size. I’m not fat just thick. When they made me, they used extra ingredients. Some girls call it curvy and others are less kind. No matter the terms, I’m not small. A thick frame and military life make me bigger than most girls.

Besides, I don’t like girly type clothes. It might be holdover from Iraq. Anything impractical cost lives – yours, the ones around you, or both.

Maybe I should have just shown up in military fatigues. Considering the job, it made sense.

A sharp, feminine cough interrupted my thoughts.

Your record doesn’t make sense, Miss Thompson.

Call me Becky.

Her eyebrow went up and her glasses glimmered in the light.

"Miss Thompson, someone with your recommendations and skill set should still be in the military." She took off her black glasses and stared back hard. For a split second I felt I was back in school with stern Miss Applebottom after another fight.

You’re applying for a bodyguard position. Hardly a typical career move.

She crossed her arms and leaned back against her chair. Anything pertinent you wish to discuss?

Not particularly.

She stared back at my resume. "Medals for valor, recommendations from your CO – until one year ago – then nothing. She turned the photo attached to the resume around and tapped her finger. What makes this girl leave the service?"

I sucked in a breath. I was still big in that photo but not as much as I was right now. Military life puts extreme limitations on what you eat. With the boredom of patrol, even exercise was something to do. I smiled for a split second before it faltered. The photo was a year before the trial.

My commanding officer took a liking to me and a few other women. He had his fun with a few other recruits but figured a ‘big girl’ would do more. His words, not mine. I don’t know how many other girls he coerced, but I was the first to send a palm strike to his nose.

That momentary satisfaction ended my military career although I didn’t know it at the time.

After a few months we all reached a deal. He wouldn’t press charges if I wouldn’t. On the recommendations of my lawyer and a hard to prove case, I got reassigned and he got a notation in his