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About the author:
My name is Jordan Bell and I’m from the Midwest. I love my coffee with too much milk, writing in bizarre places, and traveling. I wanted to create a world of beautiful girls with curves and the hot men who love them. My stories are steamy reads with heart and heartache, chance and adventure. The heroines are all plus-size beauties, curvacious, voluptuous, and voracious. They don’t want to take up as little space as possible. They’re loud, clever, and mouthy as hell. These girls don’t just have curves, they’ve got attitudes and are hell bent to be kissed every day and often.
What inspired you to write your book?
I love writing about curvy girls adventuring against the world, finding themselves, and falling in love!
Here is a short sample from the book:
“I’m…” The words fled from me. I couldn’t articulate what I was feeling if I tried and to my relief Josh seemed to understand. His hands, long familiar to me, stroked the length of my arms over the bumps of rope pressing and stretching my skin, down my elbows and back up. He captured my blonde hair in his hands, wound it around his fingers and pulled slowly until my head tilted back at his control, the pressure very lightly painful.
“Shhh, it’s alright Kitty Kat, take your time. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” I recognized Josh’s deep timbre, but it wasn’t the voice I heard him use day in and day out at the bar. This one vibrated along my spine, deepened to the core of me.
His praise warmed the blossom of pleasure I’d felt earlier between my legs when he told me he liked to dominate young women and I understood. I understood the vibration in his voice was desire, barely restrained, extremely private, and wholly my doing.
Josh tightened his grip and pulled harder until I arched back, my body straining against the ropes until I couldn’t bend any further and still he pulled until the pain increased and cut right through the fog in my thoughts. The warmth flared and involuntarily I squeezed my thighs. I wondered if he knew what he was doing to my body, but of course he did. I had no doubt he knew exactly what complicated emotions he was creating inside me.
My lips parted and a sound escaped, something like a moan and a whine and I realized how it must sound to the rest of the room. An admission of my excitement. My soul begging for more.
I opened my eyes and found Josh bent over me, upside down but tracing my face with his eyes. His hand that did not grip my hair and force my body into this unnatural position hesitated before lowering to stroke gently along my jaw to my mouth. It was such a juxtaposition against the constant, low pain he inflicted by pulling my hair.
The two together, the adoration and pain, unraveled me.
Touch me, I thought. Touch me, Josh. Please. Every inch of my body ached to be stroked by those fingers and while I should have been embarrassed by such a thought, that emotion never came. I had never allowed myself to want Josh like this, never considered he’d ever think of me as anyone but a kid sister. The way he looked at me with those hooded, lustful eyes, I knew those days were long over.
“Josh,” I answered, though he’d never vocalized any question. Yes. Whatever you want from me, yes. A million times yes.