Thunder Thighs: A Small Town Instalove Curvy BBW Romance (Larsson Sibling Series Book 1)

He’s here.

I stood in the cooler, allowing the frigid air to calm my flushed cheeks as I tried not to freak out.

He’s actually here!

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ I muttered to myself as I soothed my hands over my hair. ‘He’s not here for you.’

I closed my eyes, easily remembering how Gunnar—a stranger—had looked at me. His dark eyes practically devoured me as we chatted.

‘Okay, Universe, is this the sign I needed?’

Thunder rumbled loudly above me as if in answer, the vibrations rattling the restaurant.

I huffed out a laugh. ‘I guess that might be a yes.’

To some, it would seem strange that I was on the cusp of thirty and still a bona fide virgin. Oh sure, I had a nightstand full of sex toys, but I had yet to invite anyone into my bed. And really, I had no one to blame but myself for this sorry state of affairs.

For as long as I could remember, people in my life had made comments about my big thighs. Thunder thighs, they’d called them. Big, bold, and ready to crush the first man that dared to get between them.

I’d decided to own that narrative, laughing at the criticism and claiming I had thighs so mighty no mere mortal could lie between them.

My thighs could call down the God of Thunder.

My thighs were magic.

I owned thighs only a Viking God could plunder.

Maybe I’d bought into my own propaganda. Perhaps I’d been so caught up in the fantasy of a Viking God who adored every curve, dip, and cellulite-ridden stretch mark, that I’d lost sight of reality.

Either way, with three weeks until my thirtieth birthday, I’d decided to throw my pedestal man out the window and hit thirty as a recovering virgin.

Unfortunately, small towns weren’t exactly hotbeds of single men. The ones I might have considered were married, the ones on the dating apps weren’t interested in a fat woman, and the others were a bit too experienced or into kink for my first time.

I needed a man who would treat me with kindness, wanted my body, and knew how to make it sing.

I’d slowly given up hope but now?

He was here. My pedestal guy had finally arrived. And on a rumble of thunder, no less. If that wasn’t a sign, I didn’t know what was.

I sucked in a breath, huffing it out slowly. ‘Am I really going to do this?’

I imagined spreading myself for Gunnar, allowing him to strip me naked and lay me down.

Warm desire pooled in my belly, my nipples sensitive against the soft cups of my bra, a wet heat slicking between my thighs.

My body says yes. My mind says yes. I guess yes, it is.

I took a deep breath, smoothing damp palms down my skirt.

‘You got this, Ella. You’re hot as fuck. You’re sexy. You own this damn bar and have made it successful. You are confident, brilliant, and funny. If he doesn’t want you, then it’s his loss.’

Or maybe he’ll just throw you over the bar and eat you for dessert.

A shiver of anticipation raced down my spine.

I heard a bell on the other side of the cooler door, and Anika call, ‘Foods up.’

‘Got it!’ I snatched a container of sliced lemons for the bar and exited the cooler. I shifted the container under one arm, lifting the warm plate piled with a burger, fries, and sauce with my free hand.

‘Wait.’

I turned back to see Anika wiggling her eyebrows, a knowing grin playing on her lips.

‘Saw him. Like him, would do him.’ She tilted her head toward the bar. ‘You gonna take a chance on this one?’

I shrugged, offering her a coy smile. ‘Depends on if he likes our food.’

She laughed, waggling a knife in my direction. ‘Correct answer. I’m not sure I can approve a cherry popper who doesn’t know good food when it falls in his lap.’

‘Don’t worry.’ I bumped the kitchen swinging door with my butt. ‘I’ve got a good feeling about him.’

I dropped the lemon container on the back of the bar, taking a moment to breathe before heading toward the hottie at the far end.

You got this, Ella.

My belly flipped as I walked toward him. He nursed his beer, his warm gaze trained on me. Crackling awareness sparked between us, the restaurant narrowing until it was just this delectable man and me.

Now or never.

‘Here you go.’ I slid the plate in front of him. ‘Enjoy.’

He glanced down at the food, his eyebrows lifting.

‘This is—’

‘Delicious,” I promised.

The burger contained three types of smoked meat, all cooked to perfection. Topped with melted cheese, pickles, onions, and delicious house mustard and ketchup, it looked, smelled, and tasted incredible.

In the months leading up to our opening four years ago, Anika and I had worked around the clock to develop the perfect menu, the best cocktails, and source the tastiest local beers.

Gunnar took a bite, and I watched as surprise decorated his face.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered around a mouthful of meat. ‘This is good.’

Moments like these made all those long nights and fraught decisions worth it.

One of my barmaids caught my attention.

‘You need anything else?’

He shook his head at my question. ‘I’m good.’

‘I’ll be right back.’ I turned away, trying to calm the thrum of anticipation that pulsed through my veins.

As the time ticked closer to close, I mixed drinks, cleaned the bar, and flirted with him between orders as I counted down each agonizing minute, praying he would stay.

Please stay.

He did, nursing a second beer while watching me with those knowing, dark eyes.

‘He’s still here,” Anika murmured, filling her water bottle from the tap at the bar.

I ran my cloth over the sticky stainless-steel surface, determined not to glance at the man in question for the millionth time.

‘Ella, in case you missed it, that’s a good sign.’

I flinched, unconsciously fisting the cloth. ‘Is it?’

‘Abso-fucking-lutely.’ She nodded at the mostly empty restaurant. ‘How about you clock off and have a drink with Mister Viking? I can close up tonight.’ She tilted her head toward the opposite end of the bar where Drake Andrews and Dane Butler sat, mulling over papers spread around them. ‘As much as I want to be the meat in their sandwich, I’ll take one for the team and do a little reconnaissance for our bestie.’

I eyed the two men. ‘Did you text Blue?’

‘As soon as they walked in,’ she confirmed. ‘The woman said she doesn’t care, but we both know that’s bullshit.’

The two men had once lived in Capricorn Cove before joining the Navy. They’d been foster kids living with our friend, Bluebell ‘Blue’ McKenney. The three had been tight, permanently joined at the hip at parties or school. Until the men had enlisted and moved away, leaving Blue behind.

I rolled my eyes. ‘You’re as subtle as a bull in a glass store.’

‘Lies! I’m the perfect spy. No one suspects a face this perfect to be so devious.’ She playfully spanked me on the butt. ‘Now go! Get out of here, woman, and get that man to introduce you to the delightful world of carnal desire.’

I laughed, jumping away from her. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘I want details!’

I grabbed my purse from storage and sashayed my way out from behind the bar. Gunnar’s dark eyes tracked me as I approached, a shiver of awareness dancing down my spine.

‘Hey.’ I slid onto a barstool beside him, trying to calm my nerves. ‘You want some company?’

He smiled, lazy and slow. ‘Only if that company is you.’

The spark that had cheerily crackled between us all night ignited. The fire of attraction undeniable. I broke eye contact, unused to anyone looking at me with such blatant want.

Anika plonked a beer on the bar with a grin before dancing away.

‘Your friend?’ Gunnar asked, nodding at Anika’s retreating back.

‘And business partner.’ I lifted the bottle and tipped it toward the kitchen. ‘I’m the beer wench; Anika’s the one with the magic taste buds.’

‘Well, I can safely say this is one of the nicest bars I’ve ever stumbled into.’

I arched an eyebrow. ‘Do you regularly stumble into bars?’

He leaned toward me, effortlessly bridging the gap between us. His scent teased my nose—salt, sweat, and a little musk.

‘Only those with gorgeous owners.’

Oof! This man is a danger to womankind.

Over a long drag of my beer, I looked my fill, taking in the broad cut of his shoulders, the barrel of his chest, his trunk-like legs. A mountain of a man, Gunnar made me feel dainty and small—no easy feat.

I’d been born curvy. My body built big, bold, and beautiful—and no amount of exercise or dieting was going to change my core shape. I’d learned to love my curves, accentuating them and finding pleasure in how my body moved and felt.

But my body wasn’t in fashion—and was unlikely ever to be so. Which meant the Venn diagram representing the crossover between boys who wanted me and my attraction to them remained minuscule.

If I were honest, it appeared that only one name sat in the center of the chart tonight.

Perhaps it was the look in Gunnar’s eyes, but I had a feeling he’d embrace my curves, showing them the love and appreciation I’d always longed for.

I cleared my throat, trying not to place too much hope on tonight. ‘So, tell me about yourself. What do you do?’

He grinned, slow and easy. ‘My brother and I co-own a boat building company. Inherited it from our dad after he retired. Or, I should say semi-retired since he can’t help himself.’

I chuckled, enjoying the rueful affection with which he referred to his father. ‘Whereabouts?’

‘Cape Hardgrave.’

‘Ah.’ I couldn’t help but tease him. ‘So, you’re a mainlander.’

‘Only when not on the sea.’

We exchanged a smile. The friendly rivalry between the various islands of Astipia had been established centuries ago—we were simply a product of our upbringing.

I played with the label on my beer bottle. ‘A boat building company that must keep you busy.’

‘No more so that a bar, I imagine.’

‘Truth.’ I tilted my head. ‘I’ve never seen you around here before.’

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. ‘That’s because I’m not normally this far north. We needed to pick up a yacht for a refurb, and no one else was available.’ He shook his head. ‘Should have known it’d be a cluster fuck when the client sent through the original refurb request.’

I winced sympathetically. ‘That bad, huh?’

‘The boat is barely functional. The storm kicked up and flooded the engine. I managed to baby her to the closest port, but it crapped itself as I docked. Expect I’ll be here for a while waiting for some replacement parts to arrive.’ He rested his hand beside mine on the bar, one finger lightly running over my pinkie. His simple touch sent all my nerves firing, delicious pleasure settling low in my belly.

‘Maybe the God of thunder was looking out for me.’

I snorted. ‘Why do you say that?’

His big hand lifted to cup my cheek. He eased in, his mouth hovering a half hair from mine.

‘Because I’m looking at a woman who I can only describe as a Valkyrie.’ His lips quirked. ‘Too corny?’

‘A little, but in the nicest way.’

‘Good.’ His lips covered mine, his mouth firm but chaste.

What began as an exploration—the pressing of lips, his hand warm against my cheek, our knees grazing—quickly escalated. His lips seduced mine as he tilted my head, seeking better, deeper access. Our tongues tangled, his teasing mine in a wet, hot, and achingly demanding dance. I fell into a cloud of desire, asking for more, wanting more, desperate for him to take all I had to give.

He eased back, his eyes molten. ‘You wanna get out of here?’

I nodded, unable to speak.

‘My yacht or your place?’

‘Mine’s closer,” I answered without hesitation.

‘Then lead on, Valkyrie.’

The pet name turned my legs to jelly. I slipped from the barstool, leading him through the restaurant to the door.

The heavens again opened, torrential rain bucketing down as thunder and lightning crackled, electrifying the air.

It felt like a night to be reckless.

‘Come on.’ I snatched Gunnar’s hand, pulling him with a laugh into the downpour. We ran around the back of the bar and across the outdoor area to a gate at the far end of the property.

The rain fell in a violent torrent, washing away my inhibitions.

With a quick turn of my key, we stumbled down a gravel path, up three stairs, to pause on the stoop of the small cottage I called home.

My hand hovered over the doorknob.

‘You’re sure?’ I asked, yelling to be heard over the crashing storm.

‘Fuck yes.’

I pushed open the door, spilling into the small entry, our laughter filling the silent room. Water poured from our bodies, pooling on the wooden floorboards.

‘Lights?” he asked, touching me as if he couldn’t stop.

I reached out, flicking the switch and frowning when nothing happened.

‘Damn, power must be out,’ I kicked off my shoes, dancing away from his hands.

‘Was fine in the bar.’ He stalked me as I moved to the kitchen.

‘We have our own generator.’ I pulled open a drawer I’d dedicated to emergencies. ‘Here.’ I handed him a torch. ‘Hold that while I light the candles.’

I walked around the living and dining areas, lighting the multiple candles that sat in hurricane glasses, ready for just such a moment.

‘You get power outages often?’ Gunnar asked, switching off the torch as the warm candle glow lit the room.

‘Often enough to be prepared.’

‘But you don’t have a generator?’

‘No, the bar came first.’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll get one, eventually.’ I lit a second match, holding it to the wick of another candle.

‘You should get one tomorrow.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘It’s on the list.’

He crossed his arms as I blew out the flame on the long match stick, discarding it in my empty fireplace.

‘There.’ I dusted my hands on my wet skirt. ‘We should probably get out of these clothes.’ I pulled my top away from my body with a grimace. ‘I don’t think you were looking for a wet t-shirt competition tonight.’

He grinned. ‘I feel this might be a situation where my best option is to stay silent.’

I chuckled, pulling my hair into a high knot. ‘Smart man.’

‘Got anything I can wear?” he asked.

‘I may have a dress or two.’

‘I hope they’re my color.’

He followed me to the linen cupboard.

‘Here.’ I handed him a towel. ‘Shower is through there.’ I nodded at the door across the hall. ‘The power might be out, but the tank water will normally remain hot for a few hours.’

He paused in the bathroom doorway. ‘You coming?’

My breath caught.

You coming?

So easy. As if everything before this moment hadn’t already been a life-changing event.

‘Y-you want me to—?’ I gestured to the bathroom.

‘Oh, yeah.’ He turned to lean against the doorjamb. My gaze flicked down, noting that his wet clothes did nothing to conceal his arousal from me.

A crack of lightning outside briefly lit the interior of the house. Smashing thunder followed, so loud it rattled the frames on my wall.

Well, you heard the Gods.

This give and take remained unchartered waters for me. Kissing I could do. Heavy petting? Sure. Getting naked? Not so much.

I tried to inject careless confidence into my movement, brazening my way through.

Gunnar shifted, allowing me to pass by, our bodies grazing. He brushed a hand over my cheek and down my neck, lingering at my collar bone.

‘Take it off,’ he ordered. ‘Strip for me, Ella.’

I hesitated, wavering in my uncertainty.

‘Please.’

My hands dropped to my waist, pulling the shirt free of my skirt. Channeling confidence I wasn’t sure I felt, I peeled the wet material from my body and tossed it aside, leaving me in a black bra that did magnificent things to my breasts.

Thank you for your choices, past Ella.

Gunnar huffed out a groan. ‘Now, the skirt.’

I trembled as I fumbled with the zipper, drawing it down and pushing the material over my hips. The saturated fabric clung to my curves, forcing me to wiggle to get free.

Gunnar groaned, his gaze trained on my breasts.

‘Fuck, you’re gorgeous.’

He moved, ripping his shirt free and tossing it in my bathtub. He shoved the jeans down his thighs with near violent movements, his cock falling to lay heavy against his thigh.

He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Gunnar wasn’t wearing underwear.

Omg! He wasn’t wearing underwear!

Long and girthy, his cock suited his body shape, entirely in proportion with the rest of him.

‘Bra,’ Gunnar barked, kicking free of his clothes. ‘Leave the underwear.’

And just like that, I grew cognizant of the differences between us. Gunnar looked as if he were carved from stone. Beautiful and rugged with a timelessly raw brutality that made him all the more interesting. His sunkissed skin contrasted sharply with my pale pillowy abundance, my curvy softness beautifully lush against him.

I blinked. ‘Leave the—?’

‘You want me to take you in the shower or bed?’

Delicious shimmers of pleasure sizzled through my veins, desire heating that hidden part of me.

‘Bed,’ I whispered.

He reached out to run a finger across the top of my underwear. ‘Then you better leave these on.’ His lips quirked. ‘Not sure I’ll be able to stop myself if you remove them.’

A heavy, druggy feeling invaded my limbs—the sensation quite unlike anything I had experienced before as uncertainty, anticipation, and desire warred for supremacy.

Gunnar reached into the small shower stall, twisting the taps. He tested the temperature, adjusting it before gesturing for me to enter. I stepped past him, sighing as the warm water cascaded over my skin, chasing the slight chill away. He crowded behind me, dwarfing the space, his naked chest pressing against my back.

‘I need a taste.’ His guttural groan sent shivers down my spine.

I moved to turn, but his hands fell to my hips, pinning me in place.

‘No. Put your hands on the wall.’

I complied, pressing my palms against the cool tiles, shifting to spread my legs.

‘Good girl,’ he praised, one hand trailing down my spine. He adjusted the spray, so it fell down my back.

‘Gunnar? I haven’t done this before.’

His hands, which had begun to draw slow circles up and down my back, paused. ‘Shower sex?’

‘Any of this,’ I admitted, closing my eyes. ‘I’m a virgin.’

He stiffened, falling silent.

I opened my eyes to stare at the tiles, heat flushing my cheeks. ‘Say something,’ I whispered.

‘Do you want to sleep with me?’

‘Yes.’

‘You want me to take your tight pussy?’

I shivered at his dirty words. ‘Yes.’

He gripped my hips, pulling me back against him. His lips nipped at my ear lobe.

‘Don’t worry, baby.’ He gently tilted my chin so I could look at him. ‘I’ll make this good for you.’

He kissed me, rough, hard, hot. Our tongues tangled, wet and wanting as he took everything I had to give, offering me no escape, no option but to surrender.

I loved it.

He broke our kiss, pressing hot lips to my neck and shoulder. His hands seemed to be everywhere—trailing down my sides, brushing against my breasts, gripping the cheek of my ass.

I mewed, begging for something, anything—for more.

‘Shhh,’ he whispered, nipping at my shoulder. ‘I’ll give you what you need.’

His hands slid over the soaked cotton of my underwear to hook underneath. His fingers, his clever, clever fingers, traced my outer lips, collecting evidence of my overwhelming arousal.

‘What have we here?’ His hot mouth brushed against my ear, pleasurable shudders wracking my body as he touched and teased. ‘Have you been a naughty girl, Ella?’ He pressed against my naked pussy. ‘You do this for someone?’

‘The B-Brazilian?’ I asked. He ground his cock into my ass.

‘Mm.’ He traced back and forth across the sensitive skin of my pussy with light, teasing fingers. I twitched under his hands, the glancing touches almost too much to bear.

‘N-n-no.’ I stuttered, lost in the pleasure. ‘For me.’

‘Good answer.’

I gasped as his fingers dipped, stroking me in a way no one ever had. He danced touches across my clit, pulling from me curses and praises in equal measure.

‘More,’ I begged, pressing against his fingers. ‘Please, Gunnar. More.’

He chuckled, the sound like dark chocolate and smooth whiskey. ‘I’ve got you, baby.’

He removed his hand from my hip, sliding it up to play with my erect nipple. The other remained at my core; fingers teased my clit, tantalizing, dipping, dragging, corrupting me until I couldn’t stand the spiraling tension.

‘Please!’

He pressed hard against my clit, circling once, twice, a third time as I shattered under him, my cries filling the small stall as my body bowed, the orgasm sending me spiraling. I collapsed against the tile, legs unsteady, body shaking in the aftermath.

Gunnar soothed me with light kisses across my shoulder, his rough voice reassuring as he held me tight against his chest. ‘I’ve got you, baby.’

I pressed my cheek against the tiled wall, struggling to find my way back to reality—my new reality. The reality where a man had pulled from me with skillful fingers and little effort, something I had only ever done for myself.

He switched the water off, holding me until I could stand.

‘Let me help you.’

He ran a towel over himself, wrapping it low around his hips before he turned back to me. Batting my hands away, he grazed the fluffy fabric over my skin, backtracking to ensure he caught every drop of water. With gentle hands wrapped my hair, long, thick, and heavy with water, in another towel, pressing kisses along my shoulder as he did.

I allowed him to look after me, letting him move me in whatever direction he desired. I’d never had anyone look after me like this—the feeling both intoxicating and arousing.

He pulled back, taking my hand. ‘Where’s your bed—’

My stomach rumbled, interrupting him.

‘Hungry?’ Gunnar asked, his lips twitching in amusement.

‘Busy shift and we were down a person. I might have skipped dinner,” I admitted. ‘Normally, I’d just grab something after we closed, but….’

‘But I interrupted your plans.’

I laughed, leaning into his chest. ‘That’s not to say it wasn’t a welcome interruption.’

He pulled me close, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of each breast.

‘Get dressed. I’ll see what I can rummage up for you.’

I gave into impulse, catching his head to hold him against my breasts, delighting in the feel of his stubble rasping against my skin. ‘How about you go into the bedroom and wait for me while I—’

‘Nope.’ He pulled back, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. ‘I have a rule, Ella. A woman lets me into her bed; the least amount I can do is feed her and make sure she enjoys herself.’

His hand dropped to palm one of my breasts. ‘We’ve done half of the latter. It’s time for you to allow me to do the former.’

I sucked in a shuddering breath, heat again beginning to pool in my abdomen.

‘Gunnar….’

He stepped back. ‘Let’s get you fed before I lose my mind.’

Heart in my throat, I rewrapped the towel around myself and allowed him to lead me from the bathroom—mentally asking myself the one question I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer.

Could this night be any more perfect?