Her Curves: His Obsession: Her Curves, #1

By Sara Hazel

Aria

I might be innocent,

but I'm looking for something

rough and real.  

Dylan Wolf seems like the man

who can give it to me.

But I'm not sure if I should trust

the man who is holding me down.

Dylan

I need Aria Valance at any cost.  

Her thick curves were meant

for me to sink into.  

She's stubborn

and not easily won,

but I like a challenge.

But she has to know 

that I always win. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Hazel
• Release date: Oct 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393968917

Sara Hazel

Sara Hazel writes stories of curvy women who learn they can have it all -- adventure, career, and love.  There is always a hot Alpha Man who sees the brilliance in the heroine's smile and wants to make her his wife.  He can even be a little obsessive about it!  Every story has a HAPPY EVER AFTER (HEA) and there's absolutely NO CHEATING!  

Book preview

Author’s Note

This book was originally published under the name of Holly Pinke. It was written by Sara Hazel and is being reissued now under her name in preparation for Sara’s upcoming release – Her Curves: His to Take which is the third book in the Her Curves series. We hope those of you who missed out on Her Curves: His Obsession the first time will enjoy it now!

Thank you!

Chapter 1

Aria

SOMETIMES WHEN YOU’RE a little curvier than society’s beauty standards for women, you can feel trapped behind those too small booths at hipster restaurants.  Those booths are made for skinny people wearing tight t-shirts of a band they never heard of and jeans that are even tighter.  Try being fluffier and fitting into those booths.  The table is bolted to the wall, so you can’t move it.  You’re just trying to squeeze all of yourself in as the guy across from you pretends to smile and rambles on about his vinyl record collection - ya know, because digital files just don’t have the magic of vinyl.  He names off a list of random bands you’ve never heard of and acts so surprised each time you acknowledge that you have indeed not heard of any of them. 

After coffee or dinner or whatever, he takes a short walk with you before apologizing for having to leave early.  He knows you were supposed to go get ice cream together, but his dog is waiting at home.  He asks if you want to come home with him — on the first date.  You know where this is going to lead, of course.  He tells you he thinks you’re pretty and wants to just hang out with you.  So you go and then he puts his hand up your skirt.  He thinks you’re a fat girl so you’re not going to resist him.  But you do resist him because you know that hipster boy is only trying to get laid, and that you will be alone again in the morning just like you always are. 

I’ve gone home with plenty of guys on first dates.  And every time I have resisted them it’s always the same thing — You came home with me.  Why won’t you let me fuck you?  Sometimes they call me something horrible and I leave in tears.  That’s a pretty common experience, but I try not to let it get to me.  And I try to hold on to my virginity because I know it’s worth it to save myself for the right man.  At least until I can’t save myself anymore.

Now I’m seated across from another skinny guy who claims he likes curvy girls.  He’s got a Ramones T-shirt on.  I like the Ramones.  This guy is cute - he’s got a thin wisp of a beard, brown eyes, and dimples.  I am growing wetter by the second just listening to him talk about astrophysics research he’s doing for grad school at University of Chicago.  I don’t understand a word of it, but it’s sexy.  Then I figure I’ll put him through a test.  He’s got that Ramones t-shirt on.  Does he actually know who they are?  Sometimes I’ve asked guys about the bands on their shirts and they just shrug and say I don’t know, man.  I just got this shirt out of the bargain bin at the thrift store.

I reach out and touch his hand thinking it’s a playful gesture.  I even bat my fucking eyelashes at him.  He pulls his hand back.  Ok, he’s not into touching.  That’s okay.  Now for the question —

So, are the Ramones your favorite band?

Who? He asks.

The Ramones.  The band on your t-shirt.

They’re cool, I suppose.

Let me guess.  You got that shirt at the thrift store because you thought it was all faded and cool.  And you thought I’d think you were faded and cool too.

He laughs.  Yeah, I guess that’s it.

He slides his hand over and places it on top of mine.  Now we’re getting somewhere.  He thinks I’m funny.  Good.  I entwine my fingers with his.  He’s a smart man, and I think I actually want to go home with this one. 

You’re very pretty, he says.  You make me nervous.

Really?  Me?

Yeah, you.  I don’t know.  I’m really making a mess of this date, aren’t I? He asks.

Not at all.  You’re cute too, ya know.

He gets up and slides into my side of the booth.  I manage to squeeze myself over to the side to make room for him.  He’s small enough that it’s not too tough for him.  He moves his hand to my thigh and rests it there.  He gives me a little squeeze and a smile. 

Green eyes are not something you see everyday, he says. 

My mom had green eyes.  I guess I got lucky.

Wanna go back to my apartment and hang out?

There it is — the question I knew was coming. 

Yes, I say without hesitation.  I grab my purse.  He slides out and I follow.  He pays our bill.  I take one last bite of our cheesecake because you can’t let good cheesecake go to waste.  He barely touched it.  I don’t even care if he saw me take another bite.  I’ll tease him about it later.

WE WALK INTO HIS APARTMENT and I am struck by the massive record collection that fills shelf after shelf.  He’s got a quaint little one-bedroom apartment in a nice enough part of town.  He’s just started a freelance writing career, so he’s not yet confident enough to upgrade.  I take a seat on his futon and notice it’s covered in cat fur.  I love cats, so I look under the futon to see if kitty is hiding out there.  No such luck. 

You have a cat, huh?

Yep. She’ll come out eventually, he says.  He goes into the kitchen and reemerges a few minutes later with two glasses of wine.  I just sit there with my knees pressed together and my hands resting in my lap because I don’t have a cat to pet.

He hands

Reviews for Her Curves

[Meagan Williams · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

started out cute then guy went psycho and kidnapped her. Stockholm syndrome at its finest... creepy not romantic.