“No, no, it’s not that,” I said, my voice quiet. “What is it, baby?” He was being gentle and soft again. My stomach flipped as I looked away from him. “I don’t—I don’t want to crush you,” I admitted. His hand cupped my face and turned me back to face him. “Crush me?” he repeated in disbelief. I gestured down to my body. “I’m not a dainty little woman. I’m—” “I am two hundred and eighty pounds,” he deadpanned. I stared as he continued, pulling off his hat and setting it down on the cushion beside us. “I’m six foot seven, baby. I’m a big man.”
Alexa, play Big Boy
