All Chapters of DADDY'S CURVY OBSESSION: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Zara's POVBy the time the room had gotten louder and warmer and the dancing had gotten less self-conscious — mine included — I was purely and simply in the moment. Just the music and the movement and Bri next to me laughing at something and the pleasant warm looseness of being slightly tipsy at a party on a Thursday night in January when you had been carrying something heavy all day and had finally, for a little while, put it down.Bri pulled out her phone.“We need to document this,” she said, holding it up like she was about to conduct an important interview. “The people demand evidence that we are, in fact, hot and having fun.”She made three videos in a row — pointing the camera at the crowd, then at herself doing something ridiculous with her shoulders, then grabbing my arm and pulling me into frame. I laughed at something she said and she caught it and announced that was the one. Then she switched to the front camera and we took selfies. Her arm around my shoulders, my arm

Dom's POV My car was in the faculty lot and I got to it and got in and sat behind the wheel for exactly thirty seconds before I started the engine.I was being irrational. I knew that. I knew it clearly and I started the engine anyway because knowing something was irrational and being able to stop doing it were two different things when the thing in question was Zara Pierce drunk at a college party with a man’s hands on her arm and that look on his face.I pulled out of the lot.The drive was eleven minutes. I knew because I watched the clock on the dashboard and counted them while I drove and told myself calm and reasonable things about why I was doing this.She was a student. A first year — second semester but still effectively a first year. She was twenty-one and drunk at a party and that was entirely her right and entirely her business. I was not her father. I was not her stepfather anymore. I was her professor and the appropriate response to seeing a student in a party vide

Zara's POV He was standing there in the cold in a dark coat, looking down at me like he had just walked out of one of my dreams and into the middle of a nightmare. His eyes moved over my face, then to the open car door behind me, then to Lincoln getting out of the driver’s side with his hands still over his eyes.Dom’s eyes came back to me.“Are you hurt?” he asked. Low. Direct. Calm in a way that didn’t feel calm at all.I was shaking. I hadn’t noticed until he said it. My hands were shaking. My breath was coming too fast. My legs felt like they might give out.“I’m fine,” I said.He looked at me like he didn’t believe it. His hands stayed on my arms, warm and steady, and for a second I wanted to lean into him and let everything else disappear.Then Lincoln came around the car.He stopped when he saw Dom. The cocky look drained off his face so fast it was almost funny. His eyes went wide. He looked at Dom’s hands on my arms, then at Dom’s face, and something in him understood he had

Dom's POVI drove with one hand on the wheel and kept looking over at Zara in the passenger seat. She had her head against the window and her eyes were closed now. The black dress had ridden up on her legs from the way she was sitting. Every time the car went over a small bump, the fabric moved higher and showed more of her soft thigh. I tried not to look but I couldn’t help it. She had the kind of body that made a man forget how to think straight. Full and round in all the right places. Her breasts were heavy under that tight dress and I could still remember how they looked when she danced on that table. Her hips were wide and her ass filled out the back of the dress in a way that made my hands want to grab on and never let go. Her thighs were thick and soft and I kept thinking about how they would feel wrapped around me.The anger was still hot in my chest. That boy had tried to hurt her. He had put his hands on her when she said no. If I had not seen that video and come after her,

Zara's POVI woke up with a mild headache, a light throbbing behind my eyes that made the room tilt just a little when I first opened them. The silk sheets felt cool and smooth against my bare legs, so much softer than anything I had ever slept in before. I jolted upright, heart racing, and looked around. This was definitely not my dorm. The ceiling was a deep, warm grey, smooth and perfect, with a fancy light fixture that looked expensive. My dorm ceiling had that ugly water stain Bri had named Gerald months ago. This place felt like real money—quiet, solid, masculine.I looked down at myself and froze. I was wearing a man's shirt, dark and soft, way too big on me. It slipped off one shoulder and hung low, the fabric brushing my nipples every time I moved. Below that, I had on a pair of dark boxers with a drawstring pulled tight at my waist. They were loose on my thick thighs but still managed to feel intimate, like they belonged to someone else entirely. My eyes widened. Oh my God