Lacy Bonds (Veronica's Tale)(Curvy Maids 3): (A Billionaire, BDSM, BBW naughty romance) by Renee Jordan
Authors: Renee Jordan
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Chapter One
The rain hammered.
That wasn't unusual in Seattle. But I had to walk three blocks to catch my bus in the downpour and I had forgotten my umbrella at home. My feet were sore. I had just worked ten hours cashiering at Quality Goods. I was exhausted.
I pulled out my phone and texted my boyfriend. Come rescue me. :)
I waited, clutching my phone, my long, beige coat wrapped around me as I leaned against the exterior. The street was turning into a flood, water churned by passing cars. My phone chirped. I glanced at the screen.
What's up babe?
Forgot my umbrella. Can you pick me up? XOXO
I hit send, waiting for his answer.
Sorry babe. :( In the middle of something.
“In the middle of what?” I muttered, glancing out at the downpour, hoping it would have abated while I was texting.
I sighed, taking a deep breath, and clutched my coat about my plump figure as I stepped out into the rain. It was cold. The rain was a physical blow, slapping me in the face. I gasped at the shock, my black hair molding to my round face.
I half-ran, half-walked through the downpour, my shoes sloshing with water. I reached the corner, turning left. The wind drove the rain right into my face, howling through the tall buildings of downtown. I forced myself to keep walking as my coat soaked through.
The bus was waiting for me. I ran up before it pulled away, swiping my Orca card as I walked on the bus. “Wet enough,” the young, chubby bus driver nodded, her fat fingers adorned with rings.
“Yeah,” I sighed, slumping into the seat behind her. “How's your day going, Tessa?”
“Trying not to kill any of the idiot bike riders racing through the streets. It's a downpour, and they're still cutting me off, Veronica.”
I smiled. I had been riding this route home for three years and Tessa almost always drove me home on Mondays and Thursdays. She was a pleasant woman, always chatting with her passengers as she drove her bus through the terrible traffic of downtown.
The heavy downpour drumming on the bus stopped. “Of course,” I sighed at the slacking rain. “It waits until I'm on the bus to lessen.”
“The rain knows,” Tessa nodded, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“It seems like that sometimes,” I sighed, eager for this day to be over.
“You're sounding grouchy. Frank?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “He's busy.” I pulled out a napkin from my purse and vainly tried to dry my face.
“Right,” Tessa nodded. “Busy.”
Her tone made me defensive. “I'm sure he is.”
A few minutes later, I got off the bus, waving goodbye to Tessa. “Don't run over any of those bicyclists.”
“I'll try,” she muttered, but gave me a big smile before the bus's doors squeaked closed.
I dripped water on the entire elevator ride up to my apartment I shared with Frank, my musician boyfriend. He was in a band struggling to make it big. It was exciting to be dating a rocker, standing in front of the crowd at a bar, cheering him on.
Well, it had been exciting five years ago when I was nineteen.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked out, fumbling for my keys in my drenched purse. I found them, unlocked the apartment door, and walked in. Frank was home. He was sitting on the couch, a headset on his head, playing some video game.
“Watch out, he's behind you,” he shouted into the headset, the TV blaring with gunshots.
“This is why you couldn't pick me up?” I demanded, glaring at the screen.
“Yeah, babe. It's a pretty furious death match. My team needed me.”
It was the last straw with my boyfriend. I didn't even have the effort to scream at him. I walked into our bedroom, dropping my sodden coat and sank onto the bed. I fished my phone out, looked up Zera's number, and gave my friend a call.
For the last month, my friends Zera and Issy had tried to get me to join Zera's blossoming Curvy Maids business. Both women were deliriously happy with their results working as plump maids for the billionaires of
The rain hammered.
That wasn't unusual in Seattle. But I had to walk three blocks to catch my bus in the downpour and I had forgotten my umbrella at home. My feet were sore. I had just worked ten hours cashiering at Quality Goods. I was exhausted.
I pulled out my phone and texted my boyfriend. Come rescue me. :)
I waited, clutching my phone, my long, beige coat wrapped around me as I leaned against the exterior. The street was turning into a flood, water churned by passing cars. My phone chirped. I glanced at the screen.
What's up babe?
Forgot my umbrella. Can you pick me up? XOXO
I hit send, waiting for his answer.
Sorry babe. :( In the middle of something.
“In the middle of what?” I muttered, glancing out at the downpour, hoping it would have abated while I was texting.
I sighed, taking a deep breath, and clutched my coat about my plump figure as I stepped out into the rain. It was cold. The rain was a physical blow, slapping me in the face. I gasped at the shock, my black hair molding to my round face.
I half-ran, half-walked through the downpour, my shoes sloshing with water. I reached the corner, turning left. The wind drove the rain right into my face, howling through the tall buildings of downtown. I forced myself to keep walking as my coat soaked through.
The bus was waiting for me. I ran up before it pulled away, swiping my Orca card as I walked on the bus. “Wet enough,” the young, chubby bus driver nodded, her fat fingers adorned with rings.
“Yeah,” I sighed, slumping into the seat behind her. “How's your day going, Tessa?”
“Trying not to kill any of the idiot bike riders racing through the streets. It's a downpour, and they're still cutting me off, Veronica.”
I smiled. I had been riding this route home for three years and Tessa almost always drove me home on Mondays and Thursdays. She was a pleasant woman, always chatting with her passengers as she drove her bus through the terrible traffic of downtown.
The heavy downpour drumming on the bus stopped. “Of course,” I sighed at the slacking rain. “It waits until I'm on the bus to lessen.”
“The rain knows,” Tessa nodded, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“It seems like that sometimes,” I sighed, eager for this day to be over.
“You're sounding grouchy. Frank?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “He's busy.” I pulled out a napkin from my purse and vainly tried to dry my face.
“Right,” Tessa nodded. “Busy.”
Her tone made me defensive. “I'm sure he is.”
A few minutes later, I got off the bus, waving goodbye to Tessa. “Don't run over any of those bicyclists.”
“I'll try,” she muttered, but gave me a big smile before the bus's doors squeaked closed.
I dripped water on the entire elevator ride up to my apartment I shared with Frank, my musician boyfriend. He was in a band struggling to make it big. It was exciting to be dating a rocker, standing in front of the crowd at a bar, cheering him on.
Well, it had been exciting five years ago when I was nineteen.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked out, fumbling for my keys in my drenched purse. I found them, unlocked the apartment door, and walked in. Frank was home. He was sitting on the couch, a headset on his head, playing some video game.
“Watch out, he's behind you,” he shouted into the headset, the TV blaring with gunshots.
“This is why you couldn't pick me up?” I demanded, glaring at the screen.
“Yeah, babe. It's a pretty furious death match. My team needed me.”
It was the last straw with my boyfriend. I didn't even have the effort to scream at him. I walked into our bedroom, dropping my sodden coat and sank onto the bed. I fished my phone out, looked up Zera's number, and gave my friend a call.
For the last month, my friends Zera and Issy had tried to get me to join Zera's blossoming Curvy Maids business. Both women were deliriously happy with their results working as plump maids for the billionaires of
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