THE SITUATIONSHIP

  THE CURVY GIRLS CLUB #3

  NIKKI ASHTON

  The Situationship

  The Curvy Girls Club #3

  Copyright © Nikki Ashton 2023

  Published by Hudson Indie Ink

  www.hudsonindieink.com

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The Situationship/Nikki Ashton

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  The Curvy Girl Series

  Situationship - Urban Dictionary Definition

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Also by Nikki Ashton

  Other Authors at Hudson Indie Ink

  THE CURVY GIRL SERIES

  The Offrom

  The Gymfatuation

  The Situationship

  The Awkquaintance

  SITUATIONSHIP - URBAN DICTIONARY DEFINITION

  Let’s just chill, have sex, and be confused on the fact that we are not together but have official emotions for each other

  Him and I are in a situationship

  (They look like they’re in a relationship. They act like in a relationship. But they’re not in a relationship.)

  by Bossotron95 May 30, 2018

  CHAPTER ONE

  There were two things in life I hated. Actually, there were a lot of things, but two which really boiled my piss.

  People who didn’t indicate at or approach roundabouts correctly.

  Liars.

  2a. Liars who lied about lying even when I caught them out.

  Men who wore necklaces (of any kind).

  Okay, so that was officially four things, but it suddenly occurred to me I hated all of them equally. Let me tell you, I had met a lot of men in my career, and the dodgiest were those who wore jewellery. And they usually smelled of cheap aftershave.

  Currently, I was sitting opposite one of the biggest liars I’d ever met. So, a number 2 in all the ways. I was a solicitor, or lawyer, whichever you preferred, but I guessed it depended on whether you watched Suits or not. What I wasn’t was a pushover, which was exactly what this dick sitting in front of me thought.

  “Mr Drake,” I said with a very heavy sigh, laced with a considerable amount of sarcasm—seeing as I wanted to address him as twat face. “I will stress again how important it is that you disclose all your assets.”

  He scoffed and his lip curled for a second or two before slapping on a smile. “I have, sweetheart.”

  “Miss Davenport, could I have a word with my client in private for a few minutes?”

  I raised one of my perfectly groomed eyebrows and smirked. “Of course, Mr Caulfield.” I pushed up out of my chair, gathering my organiser, notepad, and phone. “I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.”

  I sashayed out of the meeting room, making sure my hips did some talking in my navy pencil dress. First impressions counted, they said. Well, I believed in leaving them with the best impression of them all, my bum. Juicy and plump it might have been, but it was a crowd puller.

  Walking to my office, I hoped that twat face would be persuaded by his solicitor to fess up about the rest of his assets. I hadn’t been born yesterday and was fully aware that he was lying. His soon to be ex-wife, my client, Katherine, had told me everything that he’d hidden in other accounts under different business names. Unfortunately, she hadn’t got any proof because the moment things started to go bad between them i.e., he started to shag his secretary, he locked everything away.

  “Claudia.”

  I looked to my left to see my boss, Miles, standing in his office doorway. He had a smile on his face that usually meant he wanted something.

  “Afternoon, Miles.”

  “Billable hours?”

  I grimaced inwardly. “Later today, I promise.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  He looked at me like I was his errant teenage daughter. Which, in some respects I was. I’d worked for Miles Jardine for five years and he’d been nothing but kind and supportive. In fact, I had a feeling he was going to offer me a partnership, as he had no children of his own and because I banked more billable hours than any of the other six solicitors who worked for him. He and his wife, Anne, had really taken me under their wings, and I loved them dearly. As my own parents were a pair of vile human beings it was good to have Miles and Anne in my corner.

  “I promise,” I replied.

  Miles rolled his eyes knowing that even though I promised, it didn’t mean it would happen.

  “How’s the meeting with Mr Drake going?” Miles asked, wisely changing the subject.

  “He still thinks denial is a river in Egypt.” Yes, it was an old one but so was Miles.

  “You think he’ll eventually tell the truth, or do we need to get a freezing order?”

  I considered it for a moment. “Let’s see what happens in the next half an hour, I guess.”

  “Okay, keep me informed.” He gave me a thumbs up and retreated into his office and closed the door. No doubt for the mug of coffee and chocolate bar that he was supposed to be giving up.

  Going back to my office, I sat behind my desk and gave a contented sigh as I looked around the room. I loved it. A corner office with views of Manchester on two sides, it was light and airy. There was black ash furniture and grey walls, with green plants and pink velvet chairs making it less masculine.

  I’d worked hard to get behind that desk. Joining Jardine’s, with only two years’ experience, I’d taken every shitty case that came through the door. I worked long hours, seven days a week, doing whatever I needed to prove to Miles that I was worthy of the effort. I supposed that came from being told for years by my parents that I wasn’t even worth loving, never mind any effort. It was also why I kept a picture of them on my desk, to remind me that I was better than them and their opinion of me. The pictures were their mugshots the last time they were done for fraud—I’d even put them in a nice silver frame.

  Kicking off my navy stilettos, I sat back in my chair and gazed out at the city below. People were milling around getting on with their lives, and I wondered if any of them were my half-sister. She was four years younger than me and a result of one of my dad’s many affairs. Who knew, there may be even more of Aaron Davenport’s offspring walking around, but I was only aware of Ella-Jane Foden. The girl who told me to ‘fuck off, I have a life and you and that skank of a father of ours aren’t a part of it.’. It turned out Aaron had tapped her up for money and when she said she no, he took her identity and got loans and credit cards in her name. Hence why he and Mummy dearest were currently doing their second stretch for fraud. The court case was how I found out I had a sister. I wrote to her and got the short, sharp response back. Couldn’t say I blamed her, I wouldn’t want to be connected to the Davenport name if I didn’t have to be, but it was the only one I had and was stuck with it. I couldn’t even use my mum’s maiden name because it was crappy—no, it literally was Crappie, with an I. E. Imagine my clients telling people their solicitor was Crappie? Exactly. So, I kept the Davenport which was equally as crappy but for different reasons.

  Amid my thoughts of my parents, the door to my office opening caught my attention and made me swivel my chair in its direction.

  “That was quick,” I said, steepling my fingers under my chin.

  “Yeah, well, the piece of shit didn’t bank on my persuasive nature.”

  My grin matched his as he leaned against the doorway.

  Lucas Caulfield.

  My adversary in many divorce cases, the man wore a suit better than any model it had been made for. Tall, blonde, and looking like the sexiest Viking that Valhalla had ever welcomed, he was most definitely a beautiful sight.

  “He’s going to give us everything?”

  Lucas nodded. “I reiterated your point that by not doing so, you could have his assets frozen or get a court order. I just happened to mention his golf club membership and his shag-pad overlooking the eighteenth hole being part of the deal if he didn’t cooperate, and he changed his mind.” He chuckled. “Funny how golf is more important that the profits from a couple of businesses he’d rath
er you not know about.”

  “True, but you know,” I said, crossing my legs so my dress hitched up. “I expected you to tell him to keep quiet.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Come on, Claud, you know I’m all for fairness. I just expect you to repay the favour next time I need your client to cough up the goods.”

  “Don’t I always?” I grinned.

  I uncrossed my legs and Lucas’ hand went behind him to lock the door without even looking. We watched each other carefully for a few moments and when he slowly took off his jacket, excitement fizzed through my veins. As he then threw it onto the pink, velvet sofa, and started to unbutton his cuffs I couldn’t help but give a moan of appreciation.

  “You’re right,” he said quietly. “You do. However,”—he took two steps closer to my desk as he rolled back the cuffs of his pristine, white shirt, showing off the beginning of his tattoos—“I’m not sure that I can wait for you to repay through business.”

  “You can’t?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Nope. I think I need repayment today.” His hands then went to what I knew was a ridiculously expensive leather belt. “Now.”

  “What if you have no choice?”

  He smiled and his blue eyes crinkled at the edges. “I always have a choice, Claud. And now,” his hand went to his fly, “my choice is fucking you on that desk.”

  I stood and leaning on the black ash, my palms flat, I grinned.

  “This desk?”

  I swept everything off it and Lucas’ eyes widened as he stared at me. As he stared at my cleavage which was clearly on display and in fear of spilling out of my dress.

  “Yeah, that fucking desk.”

  God, I loved it when he was foul-mouthed.

  He moved slowly until he was standing behind me and I could hardly move or breathe with the anticipation. When long, cool fingers snaked up my thighs and pushed up my dress, the tiny bud between my legs began to throb. It was a need with an intensity that only Lucas Caulfield was able to conjure up.

  Fingertips hooked in the waistband of my lace knickers, and cool air swept over me as they were pulled down my legs. Kicking one foot out of them, Lucas’ chest covered my back and his fingers linked mine on the desk.

  “I think it’s time you repaid the favour now,” he whispered into my ear.

  My heart thudded and every single nerve ending in my body came alight, particularly the ones between my thighs. They throbbed as Lucas nudged my legs wider, moving his hands to smooth over my backside.

  “This arse has to be the best thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” he groaned. “I just want to sink my teeth into it.”

  I squirmed beneath him, desperate for him to touch me, to fuck me, anything but leave me lying face down on my desk with my bare arse in the air.

  Clearly understanding my discomfort, Lucas chuckled, its deep timbre reverberating through his chest to mine. My nipples instantly hardened, and my breathing sped up.

  “Always so ready for me,” he growled. “Always so fucking wet.”

  “Just fuck me, Lucas.”

  Then… I woke up from my daydream.

  Shit, what the hell was wrong with me? Lucas and I enjoyed a casual sex kind of relationship. We had for the last seven months after going to the same boring conference and both getting drunk on cheap champagne at dinner. Yet, these last few weeks I’d been getting more and more desperate for him. I wanted to have sex with him every bloody day, not just once or twice a week. And now I was having daydreams about him shagging me on my desk while his client waited in a meeting room. He was pretty good, though, so it was understandable.

  “Hey, Claud.” I almost jumped out of my seat as he clicked his fingers. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking about the next steps, now we have full disclosure.” I clapped a hand to my thudding heart and sat back in my chair.

  He moved closer to my desk, unbuttoned his jacket, which I’d dreamed he’d already got rid of, and peered at me.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’re looking a bit flushed.

  As he straightened, his crotch caught my eye, causing more heat to travel over my body, knowing what was beneath the perfectly cut navy-blue trousers.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, swallowing.

  Lucas grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d just had a sex dream about me.”

  He chuckled and I gave a strained smile, because damn him. How the hell did he know me so well when we were so casual?

  “As if,” I replied. “I’m too professional for that.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “That’s a shame because I must admit,” he said, smoothing his fingertips along my desk. “I quite like the idea of fucking you on this.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  As I chewed on my steak, I watched Lucas carefully, enjoying every minute. When his tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip, I considered the possibilities of later. We didn’t generally do sleepovers, except if maybe it was really late by the time we’d finished having sex. Yet, we were going into a weekend, and I wanted to ask him to stay. It was probably the daydream earlier. It had hiked up my need to mega level, and maybe an all-night shag-fest would quench my thirst for him.

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” Lucas asked, pushing his empty plate away.

  “Me?”

  “I’m clearly not asking the waiter, am I?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird all evening. In fact, you were weird in your office earlier.”

  That would be because I’d been thinking about him shagging me on my desk. And now I was thinking about him spooning me all night.

  Absolutely not. I was not thinking of all night spooning. I was thinking of all night bambam. That’s what I was thinking of!

  “I’m fine.” I shrugged, spearing a piece of asparagus and examined it. “Is it true that this makes your pee smell?”

  Lucas grinned and shook his head. “Do you ever think that maybe our conversations are a bit weird?”

  I considered it and laughed. “Maybe it’s because we have to be so serious with work all day.” I took a sip of wine and narrowed my gaze on him. “What do you think we should talk about, then?”

  “I wouldn’t change a thing.” His hand reached across the table and traced a pattern on my skin with his fingertip. “I like our weirdness.”

  “Our weird relationship.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Ah no, don’t forget now, we’re not in a relationship.”

  Something about his tone made me put my wine down, like I needed to prepare myself for something. Whether that was good news or bad, I wasn’t sure.

  “Because neither of us wants one.” It was more a question than a statement, but one I wanted to clarify.

  “Agreed.” Lucas cleared his throat. “I do think though, if I wanted a relationship with anyone it would be with you.”

  That didn’t surprise me as we’d discussed it before, when we were drunk one night. I’d said it when I was feeling all mushy and snuggly. Half expecting Lucas to get up, walk out, and never return, I was shocked when he’d agreed and pulled me into a drunken hug.

  “Goes without saying.” Deciding not to risk my pee smelling strange, I put my knife and fork down, leaving the asparagus. “Back to my plans for the weekend. I don’t have any. You?”

  He shook his head, averting his gaze from me. “Nothing.” There was a moment of silence. “Fancy doing something? Nothing major, maybe some lunch or dinner.”

  The idea of lunch and dinner excited me, and yet scared me at the same time. That wasn’t what we were, but it sounded good.

  “Maybe we could do lunch and dinner,” Lucas suggested, as if he’d read my mind.