Curves on a Cruise: Flings to Rings, #1

By Nixie Taylor

Mason

I'm used to getting whatever I want, but my nephew turned down my offer to use my private yacht for his wedding. At least the tedious commercial ship they chose has a gym. I guess one week in the "luxury" suite couldn't be that bad. Anything to celebrate marriage, right? As long as it's not me walking down the aisle.

 

And then I see her, all curves and innocence, and without a room of her own on the ship. I step in to save her, but with one look into her eyes, I can't help wondering if there's something to this wedding stuff after all.

 

Connie

Sure, he's gorgeous. And sure, he invited me to stay in his fancy, expensive-as-hell luxury suite. But there's no way he makes my Spring Break magical by inviting me into his bed. So why does he keep casually touching my body and flashing me that smile?

 

Curves on the Cruise is an insta-love short, sweet, and steamy romance with an HEA between an Alpha billionaire and a curvy woman trying to have the best Spring Break ever before graduation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nixie Taylor
• Release date: May 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201905606

Nixie Taylor

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Book preview

1 - Connie

Iset the bikini down on the bed and reach behind my back to unzip my dress. My heart is pounding in my chest from excitement. I still can’t believe I won a Caribbean cruise from one of those call-in contests the local radio station had been doing when we returned to school after Christmas break.

My roommates have been so jealous.

A getaway is exactly what I need after the brutal winter that doesn’t show any signs of ever coming to an end.

The classes during my final semester of college are my most challenging yet. This little breather will get my mind back in the right place for one final push before I shed the protections of campus life and move out toward my grown-up world where I’ll...

Well, I don’t exactly know that yet.

I’d planned on marrying Marcus until he’d called our relationship off right before we were supposed to go to his house for Christmas break.

I sigh and try to push away the memory.

It’s taken me three months of constant effort from my roommates to realize how horrible he’d really been for me. I’d ignored his little snide comments about what I ate and what I wore because I’d convinced myself he only made them because he’d cared.

Now, I know he’d just been an asshole all along.

At least I’d never gone beyond heavy kissing with him...or anyone.

Spring break! I shout to chase away the funk.

I send a text message to my roommates.

Connie: On the boat! Can you believe it! Last one to get laid has to do laundry for a week once we get back. Sorry, Nicole. Tough luck getting stuck on campus while the rest of us are partying our asses off!

I’m going to drink fruity drinks, eat doubles of all the desserts, and if one cute guy stares at me, I’m going to jump his bones right here on this bed in my tiny cabin since I won’t have a roommate for the first time in...ever.

I unzip my dress and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I smile at my curves in a way I never could while dating Marcus. I’m cute as a button, and anyone who ever says otherwise will get a swift kick to the nuts.

I nod at my reflection.

Girl power, bitch.

I blush at the coarse word.

I desire to be a bold, confident badass, but I’m really a wallflower most of the time.

I zip my dress back up.

I will get into that bikini during this trip, but we’ve only been at sea for a few minutes. I should go up and watch the Miami skyline fade into the distance, find some of those free cookies they mentioned are always lying around, and get on a first-name basis with one of the bartenders.

Then I’ll be ready to rock the bikini.

The lock on the door clicks and the door starts to open.

I spin, tucking my arms across my chest despite not being naked. Realizing what I’m doing, I force my hands to my side and smile. Did I forget something during check-in?

Who are you? a gross guy a few years older than me asks. He’s wearing long board shorts and has greasy black hair that’s flopped down over his eyes.

You must have the wrong room, I say.

He tosses his backpack, his only bag, onto the couch. Key worked.

"Okay. But it’s clearly the wrong room because this