A Question Of Size: Stacey's Story (The Right Fit Series Book 1) by Lucee Lovett Page A

which was alright by me. It gave me time to get a good look at Kenzo. He was not your typical oriental gentlemen. He had to be almost six five in height. With hazel eyes the light brown kind with flecks of green. His chiseled features were European looking. Such a strange combination, but it worked for him. His big hands and long fingers were a little intimidating.
    Two glasses of wine later, I had to know. “Kenzo, where are you from?”
    “I was born in the UK. But I know that not what you’re asking,” he said with a smile that had me weak. “My mother is Korean and my father is Irish American.” Staring deep into my eyes, he continued. “I’m always asked the question, my height and eye colour have people curious to know my background. Interestingly enough, Jeff’s the only person who’s never asked me.”
    A proud smile rushed to Jeff’s lips as he patted Kenzo on the arm.
    “I didn’t ask, because it didn’t occur to me. To be honest Kenzo, I never really thought about it.”
    “And that’s why we’re friends, Jeff. Your lack of interest in my origin, told me ethnicity wasn’t important in our friendship.” Kenzo smiled at Jeff, it felt like the beginning of some kind of bro-mance between them. I’m not sure I liked it. Kenzo kept talking, his gaze turned on me. “Your husband is not like the other guys I meet at the gym. He doesn’t judge, nor does he get involved with some of the sordid banter that goes on in the changing rooms. He a straight up guy.” He winked at me then turned back to Jeff. “You, man, are one lucky son of a bitch. Your wife is beautiful and she can cook. Now tell me where I can pick me up someone like her?” Staring straight at me, his gaze serious. “Do you have any sisters?” His question was so unexpected, we all laughed
    Four bottles of wine later I pushed the hostess trolley into the kitchen. Jeff and Kenzo, with a glass of spirits each, went into the living room. I joined them there after loading the dishwasher.
    “Arr… good, Stace, you can keep Kenzo company while I run upstairs to get something,” he said, squeezing my hand and kissing my cheek before he left the room.
    Kenzo walked over to me. His gigantic frame cast a formidable shadow over me. I’m not a tall woman. At five foot three, I vanished in his presence. He reached his hand out and touched my hair.
    “You have beautiful hair,” he said, running his hand down my cheek. My legs felt weak. My knees almost buckled. “You know why Jeff left us alone together?” Before I could answer, he continued, “He wanted to give us time alone. See if we’re compatible so to speak and to spare your blushes.” He seemed to force the chuckle from his lips. “If you were my wife, I could never share. Let alone watch another make love to you.” his hand returned to my hair, his voice so low I struggled to hear what he was saying.
    Rendered mute, I was unable to respond to the things he’d said. I wanted to defend Jeff. I opened my mouth to protest, and inform him Jeff was doing this for me. But he took my open mouth as an invite. A groan escaped as he lowered his lips to mine. I felt the warmth of his breath, smelt the alcohol before his lips reached mine.
    I swooned and he caught me, picked me up, and carried me to the sofa. He placed me on his lap. His tool pressed against me through the fabric of the dress covering my bare arse. He nestled it between my butt cheeks. I wondered if he felt my arousal, the heat emanated out of my sex. It felt hot and damp to me. My body tensed.
    “Relax Stace… can I call you Stace?” Staring into his eyes, I nodded. “I’ll be gentle. It will be as if it was your first time.” he laughed. “Well, it’s sort of like your first time. With me, that is.”
    Before I could answer, Kenzo’s lips found mine. He kiss, deep and satisfying. The thumping in my chest, unbearable. Wandering hands found my breast, and the gap at the back of my dress. His hand slid a slow trail