Read Training Her Curves - Dallas (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) for Free Online

She yawned her way through a morning greeting, switching hands mid-way as she wrapped her robe around her body.
    Cautiously, I followed after her. My luggage had been delivered from the hotel last night. I grabbed a set of clothes and tried not to listen to the phone conversation.
    "What do you mean, Dylan's on his way here?"
    That stopped me cold as I headed toward the bathroom. No doubt news had reached Big Brother about the blow-up at the studio yesterday and my leaving with Marjolein instead of Jake.
    "Why on earth would Rick do that?"
    My heart beating like a jackhammer, I turned back to Marjolein. Looking at her expression, I had the feeling Dylan's arrival was more about his feelings for Jo-Jo than his blatant disapproval of me. But how did Rick play into that?
    Or was this about Rick and Riona's agreement?
    Unable to stop myself, I laughed. It was too funny not to. This was like the soap operas Ruth had watched constantly before she married Donald. Only, instead of The Young and the Restless , it was The Rich and the Restless, with big girls and billionaires instead of department store mannequins.
    Marjolein offered Riona a quick good-bye then ended the call.
    "So what did Rick do?" I asked with a bemused shake of my head.
    "Sent the test shots of me and Riona to Dylan. So now that meathead is on his way to Dallas. First for a nice long talk with his 'blond buttercup' and then with his baby sister." She marched into her room, her face scrunched like when a cartoon character has steam coming out of its ears.
    I followed her as far as the room's threshold and watched her flinging clothes around in her closet. From what I understood, her wardrobe had changed drastically now that she was working directly with Riona on the fashion side. Apparently, she still had a couple of her long, dark skirts tucked away, because she pulled one out and then a pure white blouse with French sleeves.
    "I have no intention of opening the door to him," she insisted as she moved to her dresser and pulled out a pair of silk stockings. "But it's best not to be in our robes if he makes such a fuss that the building manager shows up."
    "Right," I nodded and waved the top and pants I had already pulled out of my luggage. "I'll just pop into the guest bathroom and change."
    Once we were dressed and the last traces of yesterday's crying jag, hers and mine, were erased or camouflaged, we sat down at her kitchen table and discussed the merits of an impromptu drive. Before we could decide if we felt brave enough to make a dash for her car, voices on the walkway outside ended the possibility.
    "That sounds like Jake," I whispered, my ears straining to make out the identity of the second speaker. I presumed it was Dylan, but his words and volume were more restrained.
    "Plus the meathead," Marjolein confirmed. Her brows suddenly pressed together and her head swiveled slowly in the direction of the door.
    I realized why a second later as I heard the scrape of metal against metal.
    "And Mishka," she growled, stomping over to her door, twisting the bolt back and throwing the door open so fast that the big Russian fell into her apartment. Beyond him, Jake and Dylan each had their hands wrapped around the other's head in some sort of billionaire headlock.
    "You were not just picking the locks on my front door," she chided the bodyguard, her finger wagging a centimeter in front of his nose as the stark blue eyes stared up at her.
    His face displayed a moment's confusion and then he grinned before growing somber once more. Still on the floor, he waved the Kehoe brothers inside as he explained the situation to Marjolein in his accented Russian. "Very bad protocol to be outside."
    "Good habits keep you alive," I added. I wasn't happy Jake and Dylan were now inside and glaring at one another, but I had a soft spot for the Russian giant who had guarded me several more times after Miami.
    For the moment, Dylan seemed completely forgotten by the feisty blonde. Her