
Love is Color

Anthology

Edited and Curated by L. Loren

This is an original work and publication of Siren Allen, Ericka Arthur, Sheena Binkley, Kay Blake, Eliza David, Kiana Donae, Keinya Graves, Cam Johns, Candis Johnson, Dandii_Lion, L. Loren, Brookelyn Mosley, Nyikia Nixon, Wilberta Sanders, Nadine Tomlinson, and Rashida V.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations, scenarios, references, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher and authors do not take any responsibility of content for any third party website.

Copyright (C) 2018. All Rights Reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Published by

Lisa W. Tetting Books

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Photo Courtesy of Pexels Photo

# Table of Contents

Mate of Fire

Healer

For Only One Night

Say That You Love Me

Train Me

For Eternity

Behind the Words

His Secret Pawn

Neurotic Behavior

Death of a Prodigy

Dance with Me

Parasol

My Favorite Color

Orange Dreams

Giving Me Purple

Twice in Love

Expedition of Devotion

Wanna Take a Swim

Am I Dreaming?

Without You...

Color Me with Love

The Softness of Light

Honey Colored, Blue

Acknowledgements

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# Mate of Fire

By

Siren Allen

Kya Leggett's mission was simple: save her twin sister from the fire-breathing bastards at the castle of dragons. She hadn't planned on meeting a dragon who awakened a passion in her that she never knew existed.

Photo Courtesy of Aziz Acharki

Chapter One

Year: 4018

Location: Velahn City, Planet Crao-R

No one said being a spy would be easy. They also didn't say it would be this uncomfortable. Kya Leggett pulled her underwear out of her butt for the fifth time. She'd wasted her last seven coins on her outfit.

An outfit that barely covered her breasts and other naughty bits. She tugged on her bra again, forcing it over her nipples. Half of her ass was out, and the sides of her boobs were visible to everyone present.

But no one was looking at her. The way she was dressed was the norm here at the Dracon Castle. She still couldn't believe she was inside the castle of dragons. She stared up at the high ceiling.

You could probably stack five normal size castles in there. In dragon form, the Dracons who lived there were nearly twenty feet tall. They were huge, moody, fire-breathing shifters, who also happened to be the strongest creatures on Crao-R.

And she, a homeless vampire, had conned her way into their domain. No one in their right mind would do something as stupid as that. For the third time today, Kya sent up a silent prayer to the fates.

She was sure they were busy with more important issues. That didn't stop her from asking them to help her make it out of the castle alive and with her sister in tow. All of this was her sister's fault.

If it wasn't for her twin, Mya, she wouldn't be in this predicament. Kya was usually the one to blame for the trouble they got into. But, unlike her sister, none of Kya's past exploits had ever placed them on the dragons' radar.

She tried her best to stay away from those ornery bastards. Thanks to Mya, she was in their castle, waiting to have a meet and greet with them. She couldn't chicken out now. She had to do this. Her sister's life could be in danger.

The note Mya left her had been vague. But, it pointed Kya in this direction. Kya bent over and dug the slip of paper from her black thigh-high boot. She unfolded the note and read it again.

Hey sis,

Don't be mad, but, I have to go to the Dracon Castle. Yes, I know we vowed to stay away from those creatures. But, see, what had happened was, I found a wounded dragon near the lagoon. I turned away, planning to run away from him. Then he called out, asking for my help. I'm a healer, Kya. There was no way I could turn my back on a wounded creature. Not even a dragon.

I was able to patch his wing. He offered to pay me, but he didn't have any money on him. His money is back at the castle. We really need the money Kya. Rent is due, and we're already three months behind. I'll return later today with the funds. See you soon and please, don't do anything stupid.

Mya left her that note a week ago. A week. Kya blinked back tears as unwanted images of her twin being torn apart by dragons flitted through her mind. Slipping the note back into her boot, she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

Mya was okay. She had to be. Kya didn't know what she'd do if something terrible happened to her sister. Mya may be the shy and quiet twin, but she was fierce when she needed to be.

They'd grown up on the mean streets of Velahn. They learned at an early age how to defend themselves. Plus, they were vampires. Their motto was: when in doubt, bite your way out. That had worked this long.

It would continue to work. That didn't stop Kya from worrying. Her sister didn't like being around others for long periods of time. She preferred staying in her room with her nose in a book that she'd stolen from one of the local street carts.

She always returned the books. She was a goody two shoes who felt guilty when she did something illegal. Fire and ice was what she and her sister were. Ying and yang. Two halves of the same whole. And Kya wanted her sister back... now!

She stared at the other scantily clad females. The dragons were known for their insatiable sexual prowess. This was why they had a harem. Every few months, they replaced the females in their harem.

But, they were picky. You had to audition to be part of their wicked world. Today was audition day. Kya had waited in line for hours before being allowed through the front door. Her sister was in here somewhere.

One of those hot-heads probably kidnapped her, and was forcing her to be his concubine. Somehow, Kya would free her sister. She'd feel more confident if she had her weapons. The outfit she wore didn't have any places to hide weapons.

It could barely contain her curves. She stared down at her nails that would turn into claws if she needed them. They were sharper than dragon claws. Plus, vampires were faster than dragons.

And she could teleport. Something, no dragon could do. Unfortunately, dragons had a pesky habit of burning their victims alive. Would she be able to teleport or run faster than their fire?

A loud horn sounded. The other half-naked creatures in line grew quiet. A door to her right opened. In walked a group of bare-chested dragons in their skin-form. What she'd heard of them were true.

They were extremely good looking. The other ladies began whispering amongst themselves. The scent of their arousal filled the air. Disgusted, Kya rolled her eyes. She didn't have to worry about being aroused.

Vampires didn't feel lust. All they felt was hunger and hatred. Oh, and love. But only a few vamps believed in it. Some called love a myth. Kya knew it was real, because she loved her sister fiercely.

According to some of the old vampire scrolls that Mya liked to read, vampires could fall in love like any other creature. They could also find mates. That mating part was something even Kya didn't believe in.

According to the scrolls, she would recognize her mate the moment she laid eyes on him. With vamps, everything was about color. Kya's favorite blood type was O-Pos. When she saw a creature with that blood type, a faint pink haze emanated from that creature.

Of course, that didn't mean she could just snack on that creature all willy-nilly. That was against the dragon laws. But, the haze let her know the creature would taste yummy to her. She hated B-Neg. That haze was a dark brown. Yuck.

Colors were a vampire's best friend. Danger had a color. Anger had a color. Arousal had a color. Happiness had a color. Love had a color. It was as if the fates gifted them with the ability to recognize in others, some of the things they couldn't feel themselves.

When Kya stared at her sister, she always saw a light red haze. Her favorite color. Her color of love. Mya was the only creature she'd ever loved. The only creature she'd ever felt close to.

The only creature worthy of the red haze. She'd do whatever it took to get her back. Even if it meant going to war with dragons that were damn near twice her size. She stared at the twelve dragons that walked up the steps to the stage.

Even in their skin-forms they were over seven feet tall. She may only be 5'5, but she was a fierce 5'5. And when she was mad, she was a formidable opponent. Kya flexed her fingers as her eyes connected with a green-eyed dragon with jet-black hair.

His nose flared, eyes widened. He looked at her as if he knew her. There was no way he could know her. Which meant only one thing: he'd seen her sister. Kya mentally added the green-eyed beast to the list of creatures she may have to kill.

A chill raced down her spine. Damn, why was he still staring at her? Why did she find it impossible to look away from him? Heart racing, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves as a red haze began to form around his body.

Damn.

Chapter Two

Drax stared out at the sea of creatures standing in the East auditorium of the Dracon Castle. It was packed with females who wanted to be part of their harem. They were all half naked, thanks to his cousin Kyson.

The announcement Kyson sent out every three months contained a few stipulations. One of them was that the applicants had to be dressed like they were ready to perform their harem duties. Kyson added the stipulation as a joke.

However, the creatures of Velahn took it seriously. They'd be pissed if they knew there was no harem. They'd be even more pissed if they knew their memories would be wiped before they left.

Their butler, Garrison, announced their arrival to the crowd. As if the creatures couldn't see them standing there on the stage. Drax sighed and forced his anger down. He hated stepping into the auditorium every three months.

But, it had to be done if he wanted to find a mate. The Great War that nearly destroyed their planet had turned faction against faction. Being the mightiest creatures of this world, they'd come out on top, stumping out any faction who challenged them.

They'd won the war, and now ruled this world. But, their win came at a price. No longer were they able to mate with their own kind. They were reduced to mating with other beings, thanks to a curse placed on them by a witch, whose entire lineage had been wiped out during the war.

She blamed the dragons for the decimation of her village. It didn't matter that her coven of dark witches was destroying the world. It didn't matter to her that her coven was evil and needed to be stopped.

All that mattered to her was power. She used her last breath to utter a spell that killed every female dragon shifter. The war lasted for years, and only ended when eighty percent of the cities had burned to ash.

They were now in a time of peace; the first in over a century. There was calm in Velahn. His kind had finally rid the world of the troublesome factions, who were causing death and destruction all over the globe.

However, he was reminded of the price that war had cost his kind when he stared out over the crowd of females who wanted to be a part of their fake harem. They all stared at him like he was a piece of meat.

He hated that his people had been reduced to this. He hated that his kind could only mate with females outside their species. However, there was nothing he could do to change things. If he wanted to find his mate, he had to endure three months of endless chatter and sexual advances from horny creatures of all factions of the lore.

He sniffed, to see what creatures had decided to show up for this audition. He smelled shifters: wolves, jaguars and even a bear shifter. There were Fae creatures present. Their power had a peculiar scent that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

He sniffed again. A unique scent was floating in the air. A scent he'd only smelled a few times since the war. One of those times had been a few days ago when his cousin, Zane, returned to the castle with his reluctant mate in tow.

Drax's attention was drawn to the female at the end of the line. She was staring around the room, her eyes darting from the guards, to the exits then back to the guards. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was staking the place out.

However, it wasn't her actions that caused him to continue watching her. It was her face. She was identical to Zane's mate. She had the same dark brown skin. The same long black hair. The same curvy shape.

Except, Zane's mate had been fully clothed when Drax met her. This female was clad in boots that went all the way up to her shapely thighs. Her shirt barely covered her breasts. Her skirt barely covered her underclothing.

She didn't wear the same nervous look Zane's mate had worn when she entered the Dracon Castle. This female exuded confidence. And she didn't make him feel protective of her in the way Zane's mate had.

This female made him want to go to his knees in front of her, rip off her flimsy skirt and panties, then proceed to lick her pussy until she screamed his name. Drax sucked in a deep breath when the female's eyes met his.

Heat raced down his spine, as his inner beast raised its head. This female looked so much like Mya. But he knew she wasn't her. Her scent was slightly different. She had his cock surging to life, something that had never happened to him before.

His gums ached as his canines sharpened. He had the sudden urge to sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh of her neck. He wanted to pin her to the wall, and fuck her until she surrendered all to him: her body, her mind, her heart.

Drax made a vow then and there: before this day was over, she would belong to him. This female was more than a vampire. She was his mate. And Drax was ready to claim her. Kyson bumped Drax's shoulder.

"Hey," Ky whispered. "Did you hear Garrison introduce you? Say hi to the crowd."

Fuck the crowd. Drax pointed across the room. "Her," he roared, momentarily forgetting to use his inside voice.

The chandeliers shook, creating a soft melody that floated over the quiet room. His female's eyes widened once she realized he was talking about her. Shaking her head, she took a step back. Everyone in the room turned to stare at her.

"Bring her to me," Drax roared. The guards rushed to do his bidding.

"Wait," Ky said. "Isn't that Zane's mate? What's she doing back here already?"

"That's not her."

"You sure? She looks exactly like her."

"It isn't her," Drax growled. "This one is mine."

Kyson slapped him on his back. "You lucky motherfucker. You don't have to go through weeks of seeing if one of these females will arouse your beast. You found yours without even trying. Oh, shit, she's fighting the guards."

Indeed, she was. If one of them hurt her, he'd fuck up their entire world. Drax leapt from the stage. He could hear Ky and the others calling for him to come back. Fuck that. He had to protect his mate from his guards.

The crowd parted as he stormed across the room. He shoved his guards aside, and came face to face with his female. Her eyes were wide, but he didn't see fear in them. Her claws were out and they were bloody.

So were her lips. Her wild hair covered most of her face. Crouching in the corner, she hissed at him, showing off her sharp fangs. He'd never seen a more beautiful creature. She'd held her own against three guards.

His mate was a warrior, and she was beautiful. The fates had surely blessed him. For years, he'd prayed for a mate. Seasons had come and gone with some of his brethren finding partners, yet, he remained alone.

He'd thought the fates hadn't heard him. Or perhaps they deemed him unworthy of having a mate to love and protect. He'd been wrong. They had heard him. They did think him worthy. The female before him was proof of that.

"Are you hurt?"

She cocked her head to the side, but said nothing.

"My guards weren't trying to hurt you. They were only trying to bring you to me."

She stared past him to his guards. Another hiss escaped her lips.

"Don't worry about them. They won't bother you again."

Her gaze drifted to his. Her eyes were light brown, with a red ring around the iris. Damn, she was beautiful. It took every ounce of strength he had to not touch her. She was causing him to feel things he'd never experienced.

His cock was rigid and aching. This was his first erection. Though he was ready to shove into her, he had to remember everything he'd learned in mating training. Females were fragile. They didn't view sex the same way males did.

They especially didn't view it the same way dragons did. It took a lot of foreplay to get females in the mood. They often required compliments to put them at ease. He wasn't accustomed to giving compliments.

"You fought well," he told her, which was the truth. "I only stepped in to keep you from harming my guards." A partial truth, that seemed to work better than the compliment.

Using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, she slowly stood up. Her eyes darted around the room. He was pretty sure everyone was staring at her. He stepped closer, wishing he could shield her from them.

"I don't like being touched," she told him. "Especially, not by huge dragon shifters with weapons."

Her voice washed over him. She looked like a warrior, yet, her voice was soft. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. When he put his hands on her, they would be alone, with no one to interfere with what he had in store for her.

Drax cleared his throat. "They won't touch you again."

"Swear it."

"For the remainder of your stay here, neither my guards nor my brethren will lay a finger on you, without your permission. This, I vow to you."

Her eyebrow rose. "You didn't add yourself to that vow."

"I didn't."

"Well..." She folded her arms over her chest. "I'm waiting."

Drax took another step in her direction. "I cannot make that vow."

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "Why not?"

"Because, I have every intention of putting my hands all over you."

Her eyes flashed red for a brief second. That one second fueled his desires, causing them to reach hellish levels. He wanted to fuck her... hard... right now.

"Come with me." He extended his hand to her.

She shook her head. "I have to audition. You should return to the stage. Everyone is staring at us."

"Fuck them. You don't have to audition. You're accepted. Come with me."

"You mean, you want me in your harem?"

Oh, the harem, right. Drax nodded.

"But, don't you have to pick a few more females or something?"

"I'm free to choose however many I want. I only want you." He could feel his dragon clawing at him, wanting to be released, wanting to meet their mate. He pushed back at his beast. She was not ready to meet his other half.

"What if I, uh, don't want to be in your harem? Maybe, I want someone else. Maybe, I want to get to know the others. Maybe, I want to be shown around. Isn't there a tour or something?"

"I can give you a tour."

She stared down and whispered, "It seems you want to give me more than just a tour."

Drax looked down to see his cock tenting his pants. He returned his attention to her.

"He's eager to meet you."

"I see. Thing is, I don't think your big friend will fit inside my little friend."

Drax burst out laughing. Something he hadn't done in years... maybe ever. Even his mate wore a slight smile on her face. Was this flirting? He'd only learned of it in his mating lessons. If this was it, it wasn't a waste of time, as he'd previously thought.

"How about we not worry about my friend for now, and instead focus on giving you that tour?"

"We're just going to leave while every else stays here?"

Drax nodded.

His mate glanced around the room again before saying, "Okay big guy, I think I'm ready for that tour."

When she placed her small hand in his much larger one, his dragon roared. Fire raced through his veins. She stared up at him and smiled. His heart flipped over in his chest. She was definitely his mate. He said a quick prayer to the fates.

"Thank you. She was worth the wait."

Chapter Three

Touching him was doing something to her.

Kya wanted to pull her hand away from the dragon at her side. Doing so would make him even more suspicious of her. She sensed he was already questioning her motives. Vampires could smell emotions.

The beast at her side smelled of arousal and suspicion. However, his arousal scent was different from what she was accustomed to. His scent was pure, not tainted by years of sexing whoever bent over for him.

That was how the males where she lived smelled. He was a dragon who owned a harem. He should smell tainted. The fact that he didn't piqued her curiosity, but not enough to make her stay around here longer than she had to.

It wasn't only his scent that had her curious, it was the feelings he was stirring within her. Her kind didn't feel arousal. They weren't born of passion. They were cold and heartless creatures.

They were that way because their kind couldn't feel emotions like others. Sex wasn't something Kya had ever been interested in. She'd tried kissing a boy once. He'd grown excited by the act. She'd felt repulsed.

There was nothing arousing about having someone else's germs in your mouth. Vampires frowned upon intercourse, and chose to have their children via artificial insemination.

They used birthing chambers as their host body. Once the egg was fertilized, it was attached to the nutrition tube in the birthing chamber, and that was where it remained for an entire year.

That was how things used to be done. There weren't many vampires left. Most of her kind died years ago, during the Great War. Only a few vamps survived the war. It was until twenty-five years ago that an underground medical facility was discovered.

Inside, were cryo-chambers, with over a dozen frozen fertilized eggs. The dragon king decided that since the vampire race had nearly been completely wiped out, those eggs could be placed into the birthing hosts to create a new generation of vamps.

A generation that wasn't hell bent on draining all the blood from every creature they came across. Kya, her sister and a few other vamps that lived in The Shadows, were the only vampires left in this part of the world, thanks to the dragon king's decree.

Though, he'd allowed them to be given life, he'd also restricted where they could live. Instead of allowing them to move to the dark side of the planet, they had to remain here, where the suns burned bright during the day hours and the night.

Here, the only place where vampires could live without being scorched was The Shadows, a remote island with tall trees that provided shelter from the suns. It also had a volcano that was dormant.

However, it spewed ash at least once a week. That ash contributed in sheltering them from the suns. An elderly vamp had taught Kya and Mya that exposing their flesh to the suns daily, would help them build up tolerance.

He was right. They could now walk in the sun for a few minutes before their flesh began to burn. That, paired with their ability to move fast, aided them in stealing from the markets outside The Shadows.

Her mentor, Yoshin, had taught her a lot about surviving in a world that considered vampires to be lesser beings. However, he hadn't taught her how to deal with dragons. He'd only told her to steer clear of them.

And because of Mya, her hand was now being held by a much larger hand, that belonged to a tall and very muscular dragon. Kya's eyes darted right, to the dragon walking beside her.

He pointed out some paintings on the wall, and told her the history of them. She wasn't listening. She was too busy staring at his chest. Must he really walk around shirtless? Her gaze slid to his abs.

Was her heart racing? Her gaze drifted lower. That tent in his pants was still present. Damn it, was she sweating? Maybe she was about to have a heart attack. Or maybe she'd done something she hadn't thought possible.

Maybe she'd found her mate. It sounded ridiculous, but, that was the only explanation for the red haze surrounding him. The color was darker than the color she saw, when she stared at Mya.

Yet, it was Kya's color of love. And this dragon was wearing it. A new scent filled the air. The scent of arousal. And it was coming from her. What the hell was going on here? Drax ceased giving her a history lesson, and tilted his head in her direction.

He sniffed, and then his eyes jerked to hers. Flames flared in the depths of his gaze, and for some reason, that caused her heart to flutter. His red haze burned bright, calling to her, making her want to touch him.

She should be afraid. Yet, it wasn't fear pumping through her. She had no idea what she was feeling. There was no time to consider it. Before she could blink, Drax had her pinned to the wall. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her closer to his erection.

Her fangs elongated, her claws sharpened, ready to attack. Then he did something that made her body shiver. He pressed his lips against her neck. Her hands were raised, in preparation to claw at him.

They stilled, as her mind turned to mush. His tongue trailed up and down her neck, as he ground his erection against the heat of her center. Pleasure spread through her. Not even drinking blood had ever made her feel this good.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, she lowered them to her sides, closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, giving him more room to explore. Growling his approval, he lifted her up, and held her against the wall as he dry-humped her.

She knew she should stop him. All logical thought flew out the window, as he tongued her neck, and rubbed his erection against her center. Her pussy had never felt so needy, so lonely. Horny... that's what she was.

This was new. She hadn't thought her body could feel this way. But it could. It did. And she wanted more. She needed it like she needed her next breath. Wrapping her arms around Drax's body, she pulled him closer to her.

That drew another growl from him. She liked the sound. It made her wet in places she'd never been wet before... not counting when she took a shower, or a dip in the Lake of Tears. Normally, she was opposed to heat of any kind.

It rolled off him in droves. Instead of being burned or disgusted, it turned her on, fanning her growing desire. He ripped away the flimsy fabric of her clothing. He even tore off her boots.

She found herself parting her legs, as his hand inched between. He cupped her sex. An array of colors burst to life behind her closed eyelids. No. Not an array of colors. One color in many shades. Red.

Bright reds, like the color that streaked across the sky during a sunset, that she could only watch if she had protective shades on. And dark reds. The color of blood. Kya gasped, and her eyes popped open when he slipped a finger into her.

He raised his head. Staring down at her, he whispered, "You're a virgin."

Of course, she was. Oh right. She was here to be in a harem. He expected her to be just as sexually experienced as he was. He removed his finger from her, but kept it pressed against her entrance.

"I..." She didn't know what to say.

He rubbed his thumb over her clit, causing her body to shiver, and her pussy to clench, grasping nothing but air. Lonely, her body was lonely. She needed him. He repeated his actions. She squirmed, trying to cause his finger to slip deeper into her.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Be still," he whispered.

"I can't." Having him in her personal space didn't feel intrusive. She placed her hands against his chest. His skin was hot. She wanted it against her, all over her. She wanted to feel his heart beating against her chest. Damn, that sounded like something she'd read in the mating scrolls. Could he really belong to her and her alone?

"I have to be gentle. Even more so, now that I know you're a virgin."

She didn't want gentle. She wasn't weak. Her virginity wasn't an obstacle for her, like it was for most. There would be no pain. No blood. Her body was too stingy with blood to allow her to bleed much.

After going her whole life not caring about physical pleasure, she was suddenly filled with the need to experience it. He'd awakened something inside of her. Something hungry. Something that craved more than blood. She craved fire. And only he could deliver that.

"I want you," Kya whispered.

A look of happiness crossed over his face, as he smiled down at her.

"You will have me, soon." He lowered his mouth to hers.

Kissing was only the touching of lips. It was as insignificant as brushing against someone by mistake in the market. Or, as basic as shaking hands. So, she'd thought. Kissing her dragon was much more than that.

His tongue teased her lips, coercing them open. Once they were parted, his tongue slipped into her mouth. Only one taste, and already she was addicted. Their tongues danced a dance as old as time, but new to her.

His hands fondled her body, as his mouth made love to hers. The need inside her grew stronger with each passing second. She felt like she'd erupt soon, if she didn't get more of him, all of him.

The fact that he wanted to be gentle with her was sweet. But she was a fighter. She'd survived in The Shadows all her life. She was just as tough as he was. Yet, he was treating her like a damsel in distress.

Damsel in distress!

Shit! She'd forgotten all about Mya. How messed up was it that a hard body had caused her to forget her sister's plight? Kya wrenched her mouth away from Drax's. He groaned. Inwardly, she was doing the same.

"What's wrong?"

She pushed him away from her. "Let me go."

"Never." His grip tightened.

Ignoring his cock, that was pressed against her wetness, she shoved him harder. It was like shoving a brick wall. Reality began to sink in. She was naked and pressed against the wall of the Dracon Castle.

A dragon shifter, whom she didn't know, had his cock pressed against her pussy. And, her sister was still missing. How the hell had she let herself get sidetracked? It was the red haze, and the fact that he was sexy as sin.

"I'll go slower," he whispered, eyes hazy with lust. The scent of his arousal was intoxicating. Mouthwatering.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "I don't want slow." I want it hard and fast. "I don't want you at all," she lied.

"A lie. I can smell your arousal."

"That's not my arousal funking up the air, it's yours."

His eyes narrowed, lips thinned. She could sense his anger. He released her.

"Finally," she muttered, suddenly feeling cold. "Wait. What the hell are you doing?"

He dropped to his knees in front of her. Before she could push him away, he pressed his nose against her clit. She didn't know if she should be embarrassed or turned on. He inhaled deeply, then leaned back and stared up at her.

"Trust me," he groaned. "The sweet arousal I smell, is all you."

Wow! She was pretty sure her pussy was dripping wet. Kya cleared her throat, and forced herself to focus on the mission.

"Get up, dragon."

"I like the view from down here." His eyes were glued to her center.

Yep, she was getting wetter. Pretty soon, evidence of her arousal would be dripping down her thighs.

"I'll ask you one more time. Get up."

"Why would I do that?"

She was done playing the nice vampire. Claws out, she made sure her nails dug into his scalp when she gripped his hair, and forced him to look up at her. He didn't seem hurt or bothered at all.

"I'm not here for this. I don't want to be your plaything. I'm here for my sister. I know you've seen her. Tell me where she is, and I may let you live."

She was shocked by the grin that took shape on his face. Damn, he was gorgeous. But, what the hell did he find funny?

"I'm okay with killing you," she told him. "Don't push me."

He gripped her hand gently, and used his thumb to massage the inside of her wrist. Stunned by the pleasure that simple touch created, she released him.

"Stop fucking with me," she yelled. "Where's my sister? She looks just like me. She came here with a wounded dragon. What did you monsters do to her?"

"I knew you weren't here for the audition."

"Whatever. Where's Mya?"

"You lied to get in here. Is that why you let me touch you? Did you think I'd tell you where your sister was if you got me horny enough?"

"No. That does sound like a solid plan though."

"So, you let me touch you because you wanted my touch?"

"What does that have to do with anything? Tell me where she is, or you'll never feel the touch of another again."

"Your hands are the only hands I want on me."

Wow. "I don't have time for this. Do you know where my sister is or not?"

"I know exactly where she is. I'll let you talk to her, if you promise to stay here for three months."

"You mean be one of your harem hoes? Hell no."

"I mean be mine, for three months. After that, if you want to leave, I won't stop you."

Kya nibbled her lower lip. "And if I say no?"

"Then I'll throw you out, and you'll have to find another way to talk to your twin."

Fucking blackmailing dragons. "Okay. I'll stay," she lied. "Now take me to my sister."

Drax shook his head.

"You said..."

"I said I'll let you talk to her. First, I want to do something to you."

Kya rolled her eyes. "Is this the part where you tell me you want to fuck me? Not happening."

"When you're ready, I am going to fuck you, until you crave the feel of my dick every time you open your eyes."

Wow!

"But, that'll have to wait. Right now, I'm hungry. And your pussy looks good enough to eat."

Well, damn.

Chapter Four

Kya shivered as he rubbed his hands over her thighs.

"I wish I could take my time," he told her.

"The quicker you finish, the quicker I can see my sister." Damn, she couldn't wait to feel his tongue on her heated flesh. His chuckle forced her to open her eyes and gaze down at him.

"What's funny?"

"You, acting like you're not happy that we met."

"Happy isn't the word I'd use."

"Yet, it perfectly describes what we're both feeling."

Was she happy? She was horny. "I think you're using the wrong H word."

"No. I'm not." He leaned forward and kissed her clit.

She hissed, and pressed her hands flat against the wall. Her eyes damn near rolled into the back of her head at the first swipe of his tongue against her center. Closing her eyes didn't stop fireworks from igniting behind her lids.

Red. Her favorite color. For some reason, her body was associating that color with her dragon. Damn, why did she keep thinking of him as hers? He wasn't hers. He was a stranger. A stranger who was licking her pussy like there was no tomorrow.

Right now, she didn't care if tomorrow came. All she cared about was the tongue licking between her wet folds. He lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder, giving himself more access to her flesh.

A low growl filled the room, right before he devoured her. She gripped his hair, and pulled his face closer to her body. He tongued her hard and fast. She jerked against his mouth, as pleasure unfolded within her.

Finally, when she thought she could take no more, she exploded, all over his tongue. He swallowed every drop of her orgasm. After her body stopped shaking, she released his hair, and rested her head against the wall.

Her mind instantly began replaying what had just happened. She didn't move when she felt him stand up. Nor when she felt his arms wrap around her, and pick her up like she weighed nothing.

She didn't even open her eyes when she felt him walking down the hall with her in his embrace. Her eyes opened when he laid her on a comfy bed. Damn, she'd drifted off to sleep on the walk to his room.

He stood at the center of the room, taking his clothes off. That red haze followed him everywhere he went, a reminder that he was much more than just a dragon. He was hers. Should she tell him?

If she kept him, he'd have to give up the harem life. She didn't share. But, would a virgin like her be enough for a sex God like him? She shivered, recalling the way he'd tongued her down moments ago. That had been good enough to make any girl fall in love.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

Everything! She was lying in a stranger's bed, and instead of finding her sister, she'd found a mate. She pushed her hair out of her face.

"You promised you'd let me see my sister."

He was now fully naked. The huge erection he sported was begging for her attention.

"I said I'd let you talk to her."

When Kya sat up, the sheet fell from her. She grabbed it and covered her breasts.

"Don't hide yourself from me," he growled.

"I don't know you."

"You know my tongue."

Yes, she did. Very well.

"I want to get to know you," he whispered.

"I want to see my sister."

"Your sister is safe."

"When you say that, I immediately think she's not safe. I'm ready to see her."

"You can talk to her."

"Okay," Kya sighed. "Let me talk to her. Where is she?"

"She's safe."

He walked over to his huge wooden dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small device and sat it on the dresser. He pressed a button, and a loud crackle filled the room.

"What's that?"

"An old school communication device."

She wouldn't know old school from new school. They didn't have much technology in The Shadows. "It's going to let me talk to Mya?"

"Yes."

He tapped the device. The crackling ceased. He pressed a few more buttons, and then a ringing noise sounded. A few seconds later a deep voice filled the room.

"Cousin, is something wrong?"

"All is fine," Drax said. "Better than fine."

"Then why would you disturb me while I'm bonding with my mate?" The voice boomed.

Mate? Surely, he wasn't referring to her sister.

"I have Mya's sister with me."

Yep, he was referring to her sister.

"Fuck," the male muttered. "Mya was afraid she would come looking for her."

Furious, Kya jumped from the bed, and stalked over to the device. She leaned down and yelled into it. "Damn straight I came looking for her. Where the hell is she?"

Drax grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her back a step. "You don't have to speak directly into it."

"Yeah," the other male said. "I think you burst my eardrums."

"I'm going to bust your ass, if you don't put my sister on."

The other male chuckled. "She said you'd be furious, Kya."

"Don't say my name. You don't know me. Put Mya on. Now."

Ignoring her, the male spoke to Drax. "Why do you have my mate's sister?"

Drax pushed her hair over her shoulder. His fingers grazed her flesh. She shivered and stepped closer to him. The move was instinctual. Her body craved his heat.

"She's mine," Drax whispered.

Kya's gaze met his. "You knew this whole time?"

He smiled. "I knew the moment I saw you, mate. You're everything I prayed for and more."

His words warmed her heart, and left her speechless. A new voice filled the room.

"Oh my gosh, Kya, I'm so happy for you."

It was Mya. Kya turned back to the device. Though he'd told her not to speak directly into it, she couldn't help it.

"Mya, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kya. You found a mate."

"Uh, it seems you have too."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for running off. It just sort of... happened."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at Zane's cave. We're on our mate-bonding trip."

"Are you sure you're there of your own free will?"

"Kya! Of course."

"I had to ask."

"I know. Thank you for coming to look for me. I love you sis, and I'll be home soon."

"I love you too, Mya." The crackling noise returned. "Mya. MYA!"

"The connection has been lost, mate." He pulled her close.

"Do you think she heard me say, I love you?"

"It doesn't matter. She knows."

"Is she happy?"

"I believe she is. Are you happy?"

Was she? Mya was safe and mated. Kya was wrapped in the arms of a sexy dragon, who said she was everything he'd prayed for. Yes, she was definitely on her way to being happy.

"I'd be happier if your tongue was on me again."

He growled before lifting her up, and carrying her to the bed. He laid her down, and then climbed on top of her. His lips pressed against hers, as his fingers stroked her center, readying her for him. His thumb massaged her clit. She needed more.

She needed all of him inside of her. He would fit. He had to. He was her mate. He was created for her. Their bodies were meant to be together as one. She rubbed her hands over his chest, grazing his nipples. He shivered.

"Mate, I'm trying to be gentle," he told her.

She reached between their bodies and gripped his cock. His whole body jerked.

"Mate," he groaned.

"I'm a vampire." She rubbed his cock against her silky folds before using his length to part them. He tensed. "I don't need gentle," she told him. "I need you. Just as you are, Drax. Fuck me, mate."

"Kya," he groaned, as he pushed forward, breaching her innocence.

After a moment of discomfort, the pleasure returned. Her mate was inside her. He pulled out, and she saw stars. Damn, she hadn't expected it to feel this good. He surged forward, slamming into her.

There was nothing gentle about their love making. It was hard, rough, and perfect. She wrapped her legs around him and raised her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Sweat beaded their skin as their bodies rubbed together.

The pleasure was intense. It slammed into her like waves crashing against the shore, leaving her feeling breathless. She rode the waves, as he rode her body. Never had she experienced anything as wonderful as sex with her mate.

The storm brewing inside them peaked, and then they both exploded. Body quaking, she held him like he was her lifeline. It was a while before their breathing returned to normal, and they stopped trembling. He stared down at her. The look in his eyes made her feel safe, cared for, loved.

"What are you thinking about mate?"

"The color red," she admitted.

"Why red?"

"It's the color I see when I look at you. It's the color of love."

He smiled. "Red is my new favorite color." He lowered his head and captured her lips in a heated kiss. She sighed, as his arms wrapped around her. She'd come here looking for her sister. Instead, she found love.

Yes, she was definitely happy.

2018 (C) Siren Allen

Siren Allen

Siren Allen is an author of erotic paranormal romance. When she's not jotting down her characters' naughty adventures, she's working as a Clinical Laboratory Scientist.

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# Healer

by

Ericka Arthur of Authenticitee Speaks

Photo Courtesy of Marianne Jenack

--------

Lover you are the warmest of wading waters

Full lips slow blowing kept promises across my storms

I knew you felt different the instant you dared me to see me

In that alone; I found you to be so very different than...he

Against my spirit's better judgment, my soul leaned heavily

Against the grayest of his controlling kind

See, craving to be craved hands free...was so hard to find

My freedom was discovered but not until it refused to be denied

Settling for dusk when dawn is what I longed for

Blue in the face; weighted I waited - I fought to hold on

Breathing staggered, heart rate erratic, pulse ever so faint

And then...there...was...you

You...

Transparent, I see right through you....and you are salve

Your power; firm yet gentle when we color mouth to mouth

And ya got the nerve to be a sight for newly opened eyes

A balm for solitary spheres and the chief astronomer of my night skies

Unintimidated by my depth nor proclivity to French kiss intellectually,

We laugh and talk for hours, and then fully clothed go skinny

d r i p p i n g.

In the sweetness of our mist, I lay bare.

My heart tells my mind, "We are safe here".

The length of your hues holds all of me

While the range of your spectrum keeps-a-beckoning.

For I've not ever known a red earth singed oil

That soothes the undetected crevices in my bronze quite like you

Healer you are. Deserving I am.

I promise to be gentle...healers need healing too.

2018 (C) Ericka Arthur

Ericka Arthur

Brooklyn NY native Ericka Arthur, is an Inspirational blogger, speaker, singer/songwriter and poet. As the host of the Inspiration With E Radio Show on GrindHard Radio, she frequently shares her love for different cultures, music and her unwavering burden for Suicide Prevention. Self described as "an open book written in invisible ink"; Ericka is known for her sincerity, sense of humor, candor and wit. A fearless wordsmith who writes with the thinking heart in mind, she was a contributing writer in Feminine Collective's 2017 release: "Love Notes From Humanity: The Lust. Love and Loss Collection"; Ericka is a fearless wordsmith who writes with the thinking heart in mind.

Follow Ericka on Social Media:

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/authenticiteespeaks>

Facebook: <http://facebook.com/AuthenticiteeSpeaks>

Blog: www.authenticiteespeaks.com

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/authenticitee>

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# For Only One Night

by

Sheena Binkley

Three years ago, Kimberly Howard was living her fairy tale when she met and fell in love with Christian Dawson. Just when she thought things were good, Christian abruptly ended the relationship, making her wonder what could have happened to make him end things.

When a chance encounter puts the two together on Valentine's Day, they realize that things could change in one night. Will Kimberly give Christian a second chance, or will she walk away from her one-true love? Find out this and more in the short story, For Only One Night.

Photo Courtesy of Guilherme Stecanella

1.

Valentine's Day. The day that I dreaded the most. It's a day for couples to rub in single people's faces that they're with someone. Always has been, and always will be.

Many years ago, I, Kimberly Howard, was one of those people who proudly displayed that I was in a relationship; but sadly, that ship has sailed. It sailed from the Port of Houston, and beyond. After that relationship, I wondered if I would ever start a new one.

Nor do I want to?

It's not like I can't attract a man. I'm a beautiful black woman, but I know it takes more than good looks to be in a relationship. You also have to be committed to your partner. I was to mine; it was my partner that wasn't.

Since I was spending another Valentine's Day alone, my best friend Valerie decided to have me tag along with her and her husband, Vincent, to Dubbin's, a neighborhood bar, for a few drinks. Even though they're going to have their celebration later, they wanted to make me feel less depressed, than I already was, by being around them while they were all in love and shit.

Like that was supposed to make me feel better.

I stared at them as Vincent gave Val a kiss on the cheek. She smiled as she stared at him adoringly.

God, I hope I don't vomit right here.

Don't get me wrong, I was happy for my bestie. She was just as unlucky in love as I was, but she met her Prince Charming three years ago, and they have been going strong ever since. That was the same time that I thought I'd met mine, but unlike Val, I didn't get the happy ending that I wanted.

I smoothed down my honey brown hair as I looked around the bar. I sighed as Valerie looked at me with a sympathetic glance.

"I know this wasn't the ideal Valentine's Day."

I shook my head. "It's fine, Val. I'm glad you and Vic thought about me, but I told you both, I could have stayed at home and watched the movie Valentine's Day with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream."

"And you would have been lonely and depressed. We know how you get around this time; especially since Christian broke up with..." Vincent mentioned.

Valerie sharply jabbed Vincent, as he gave her a crazed look.

"Do you have to remind her about that?"

"Just saying,"

"She doesn't have to relive the pain of it."

"Please, stop. I don't want you two arguing over my issues. It's Valentine's Day, so continue to be happy."

"Kim, you've been my friend since elementary, so I want you to enjoy life and be happy. I don't want you to stay in this depressed state that you're in."

"I think I have surpassed being depressed."

The two looked at me, and shook their heads at the same time.

"Seriously?"

"You haven't, Hun," Valerie confessed.

"That's why I decided to confront the issue, and invite Christian here," Vincent confidently announced.

I just stared at Vincent, not believing he would do that. I hadn't seen Christian since Valentine's Day last year, when he broke my heart and shattered it in a thousand pieces. Not sure why I was referring to the lyrics to New Edition's If It Isn't Love at the moment, but I had to think of something besides wanting to go across the table and choking Vincent.

"Are you crazy?! What possessed you to do that?!" Valerie exclaimed.

"Because they need to talk. It's been a year since it happened, but they're still miserable."

I took several deep breaths, hoping I didn't pass out. I looked at Val, who put her hand on top of mine. She knew it would be hard to see Chris. Even after what happened, I still cared about him. Honestly, I'd never stopped loving him, but we were going in different directions with our relationship. I wanted more, and he didn't.

But I knew Vincent would do this; Christian is Vince's brother, so he was probably tired of seeing him miserable too.

"Are you sure you want to see him?" Valerie asked.

I didn't know what I wanted. A part of me wanted to see him, but another part wished I would just move on.

I turned towards the door, and my heart suddenly started racing. Coming inside was the man that I had loved for two years. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. He was still as gorgeous as ever, with a flawless caramel complexion. Even though he was standing across the room, his brown eyes were still staring into mine. He seemed nervous, as he slowly walked to our table. He ran his hand down his close-cropped fade, as he gave a quick smile to everyone.

"Glad you could make it," Vincent said, while giving him a brotherly hug.

"Thanks. Hey, Val. I know you're surprised to see me."

"Surprised is not the word I'm thinking of right now," she said with a heated glance.

"Stop it," Vincent whispered.

"No, it's okay. I know what I did was messed up, so you have every reason to hate me."

"And I should,"

"It's not any of your business. This is between Kim and Chris," Vincent said.

The two of us were staring at each other, as he slowly sat down beside me. We both were silent because we didn't know what to say. Actually, I had a lot to say. I just didn't know where to start.

Vincent stared at us with a smile. "Since this night is full of surprises, let me add another shocker. You both are going on a date."

We looked at Vincent with shocked expressions. We were wondering if he was being serious.

"Please, don't thank me all at once," he joked.

"It's not really necessary," I said.

"I think it is, Kim. It's finally time that we talk," Christian said.

I looked at everyone seated, wondering how I felt about talking to Christian.

It's just for one night, while he tells me why he broke things off and disappeared.

"It's just for one night, Kim. You don't have to see me again after this, but I do want to give you my reason for what happened."

I stared at Val, who gave a light shrug. "It can't hurt, Kim."

I sighed. "Where are we going?"

Vincent gave us a pair of blindfolds. "It's a surprise,"

"I'm not being blindfolded," I fumed.

"Why not? It'll be fun."

"I'm not..."

"For one night, try to be a little more spontaneous. Now, go."

I sighed and grabbed the blindfold from Vincent. Christian took his as we got up. Vincent got up as well, and we followed him outside. He instructed us to put them on. Once we did, I felt his hand grazing my back, as he led me to the vehicle.

"This better be worth it," I mumbled.

"Trust me; it will be,"

I heard the door slam, as he told us to have fun, before the vehicle stared moving.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" I asked Christian. I moved my head to him, as if he could see me.

"Are you staring at me?"

"Yes, I am. Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No, Kim. Well, not the blindfold part. I know how much you hate not knowing things."

"But you had a hand in this?"

"I had to. Vincent may be my brother, but he doesn't know you like I do."

"Do you really know me, Christian?"

I felt him staring at me. "I hope I still do, but I guess we'll find out soon enough."

I took a deep breath, as I felt the vehicle stop several minutes later. The door opened, and I tried to take the blindfold off, but I felt a hand go to my arm. It slowly came off, as Christian stared at me.

"I was going to let you keep it on until we got to our destination."

"I guess I'm too eager to find out."

"Let's go then."

He held my hand as we began walking. The place looked familiar, as we walked to a beautiful candle lit dinner on the deck. I stared out at the open water and smiled, realizing where we were.

"You took me here on our first date."

Christian smiled. "Where it all began. I couldn't afford to take you to a fancy restaurant then, so I asked Vince if I could use his friend's house."

"With the beautiful deck."

He led me to the table; a spread of the meal we had on our first date was set before us. Christian pulled out a chair. I thanked him and sat down.

"I guess I still know you, huh?"

I gave a tiny smile. "This doesn't erase what happened. You really hurt me that night, Christian. Just when I thought we were going to open a new chapter in our lives, you abruptly ended it."

Christian sighed. "It's not like I wanted to, Kim. I really loved you at that time. I still do, but I felt I wasn't good enough for you."

I looked at him as he took out his napkin. "Let's talk about that later. Right now, I just want us to enjoy our dinner."

I slowly nodded, not sure what to think about that last comment. If he felt like that, then why didn't he talk about it then? I couldn't even eat as I looked out at the water. Christian noticed I wasn't eating and put down his fork.

"You're not hungry?"

I shook my head. "I lost my appetite."

"You want to talk instead?"

I nodded, as Christian got up and came to me. He took my hand and guided me over to the bench in front of the water. We sat down as I felt the night breeze against my skin. It felt a bit warm, which was odd, since we were near the water, but I loved it.

"When I first met you, I had to take a step back and admire you because you are a beautiful woman. I love your brown hair, since it compliments your eyes and skin. I remember you were wearing this pink sundress because it really brought out the highlights of your hair. When you spoke, I thought my heart would stop beating because I thought I'd heard an angel speaking."

I blushed, as I gave a tiny giggle. Christian stared at me, wondering why I was laughing.

"I'm not giggling because of what you're saying. It's just that I'm thinking about that day as if it was recent. That was the day that changed my life."

Christian nodded. "It changed my life too."

"So why did you break things off with me? You said you loved me, so breaking up shouldn't have been an option."

"It was as if my life wasn't equal to yours. You had this great career as a production manager, while I lost my job. I couldn't find anything to keep me afloat, and I was behind on my bills. You were supporting me, when it's my job to be taking care of you."

"Is it really, though? Christian, this isn't the 20th century where the man has to take care of the woman. Women can do a lot to take care of ourselves. Regardless, that didn't mean you had to end things between us. If you felt that way, you should have talked to me about it."

"Why would I? I just spared you the trouble, and ended things so you could find someone on your level."

"Christian, you were the man that I wanted to be with. That was my decision if I wanted to stay with you. Besides, if I had a problem with it, I would have told you."

Christian lowered his head and looked at the deck floor. I put my arm around him to give him a side hug. "You know we would have gotten through anything together. You know that, right?"

Christian looked at me as he put his hand on my cheek. He stared into my eyes, and gave a tiny smile. "I know we would have; I guess it's just my pride that got in the way of things."

"Was that the only thing that led you to break up with me?"

Christian nodded. "Yeah,"

I stared ahead while giving a long sigh.

"Now that you know what happened, do you think you could ever give me another chance?"

I glanced over at him, as he gave pleading eyes. Once he said that, my heart started skipping. Could I really give him a chance, after he basically dumped me because his life wasn't in order?

"That, I can't say, Christian. You left me, so how do I know you won't do it again?"

"Because, I won't. I made a mistake that night, and I regret it every day. I hate what I did to you. It hurts like hell that I hurt you, but I can't change what happened. Believe me, I would, but I can't. All I can do is, if you give me a second chance, I'll prove to you the man that I know I can be for you."

I continued to stare at Christian, as he nodded. "I don't know why I'm even asking you this. It's been a year since that happened, and now I'm surprising you with this dinner and asking you for a second chance. How crazy am I to think that you'd fall into my arms and we'd be together again?"

I smiled. "You're not crazy, Christian. Believe me, I have been thinking about us getting back together. It's a possibility, but it just won't happen now."

Christian sighed, while I squeezed his hand. "I'm not saying we won't ever get back together. We might have a second chance, but I don't want to rush into something, and then it all falls apart again. I'm glad you told me what happened because now it gives me a sense of closure, but I can't just get back with you because of it. I just need time to sort things out."

Christian looked defeated, as he lowered his head again. I cupped his chin, and gave him a sweet smile. "But tonight, let's not worry about what happened in the past, or what will happen in the future. Let's just focus on us having a great time together."

"Which is something we can do."

I got up and took his hand as we went back to the table to eat. I got my appetite back, so it was time to eat.

***

After we ate, we decided to spend some time by the water as we caught up on what we'd been up to. I told Christian that I had recently been promoted at my job. He told me that he got a job as a sales executive. I was proud of him because he was doing something that he loved. When we first started dating, he had a job that he only tolerated, since it paid his bills. Now, he was able to do something, that not only made money for him, but was something that he enjoyed doing.

We even talked about where he was during the year that we broke up. He mentioned that he moved to stay with his other brother, Drake, in Austin. He decided to move back to Houston when he received his new job. Of course, he always asked Vince about me and how I was doing. I wished I could have said the same about him, but I never wanted to since it brought back painful memories.

We sat on the deck for a few more minutes, until Christian gently nudged me. I looked over as he smiled.

"Come on, I have another surprise."

I smiled, as he took my hand and led me off the deck. We walked away from that area to an open field, where a large blue blanket was laid out, surrounded by several flameless candles. I smiled as we both sat down. I looked up, noticing how clear the sky looked as multiple twinkling stars were peeking through.

"I know how much you like looking up at the stars. That's why I wanted to have a wonderful view of it."

I laid down on the blanket, and looked up at the stars. I was suddenly at peace as I took a deep breath and smiled.

"This is relaxing, isn't it?" Christian asked.

I nodded. "That's one of the reasons why I love it. Thank you so much for doing this."

"Even though I had to blindfold you?"

I laughed. "It was worth it."

"So, tell me about each star?" Christian asked.

I nodded as we got closer. As I explained each star in the universe, the feeling of love came over me. I began to hope that one day, Christian and I could start over.

--------

2.

The night that I spent with Christian was absolutely perfect. Even though we hadn't seen each other in a year, it felt as if we were in sync again. I knew the two of us still had issues that we needed to resolve about the past, but maybe I would be willing to overcome them so I would know where we stand as a couple.

It was two days after Valentine's Day, and I was back at Dubbin's meeting Val for Happy Hour. I looked around and smiled, thinking about that night when Christian reappeared in my life again. I guess I was daydreaming, because I didn't know Valerie was already sitting across from me at our booth.

"Earth to Kim. Earth to Kim..."

"Huh, what?"

"You must have really been daydreaming if you didn't even notice me sitting down."

I took a deep breath, as I gave Val my full attention. "I guess so. Anyway, how was work?"

"It was cool, nothing special. And you?"

"Pretty much the same."

Valerie put her elbows on the table and sighed. "You know I'll ask about work, but I really don't care. What I need to know is about you and Chris."

"What about us? I gave you the full scoop on our date."

"I know that. What I'm wondering is, are you going to give him a second chance?"

I sighed again. "It's not that I don't want to, but..."

"You're still thinking about the past. Didn't you mention that you wanted to forget about the past and move forward?"

"That was just for that night; I wasn't talking about completely forgetting. Besides, weren't you the one saying that I shouldn't get involved with him again?"

"I did, but I didn't realize the reason why he broke things off. Even though it was still dumb, at least he wasn't cheating on you."

"Did he date anyone in Austin?"

"Why didn't you ask while you were on your date?"

"I just didn't want to bring it up."

"For all I know, he wasn't. That's what Vic told me, but who knows. Anyway, he's here now. So what are you going to do?"

I looked around the bar, wondering if I needed a few drinks in me to make that decision, but I thought I needed to have a clear mind when doing so.

"Honestly, I don't know yet. I want to, but..."

"Your heart is not letting you. I can understand."

I nodded as I picked up my phone from the table. I scrolled to my pictures to see me and Christian from our date. I smiled, still thinking about that moment, when a text from Chris popped up on the screen.

Still thinking about Valentine's Day. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

"Christian?" Val asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I really don't know what to do right now."

"Just give it some time, Hun. Don't jump into something that you know you're not ready for."

"What if I am ready, but..."

"You don't want to get your heart broken again."

I put my phone down and sighed. I really do have a lot to think about."

***

After having a few drinks, it was time for me to go home. I called an Uber to take me to my place, since I didn't want to drive. As soon as I got in front of my house, I saw a trail of red rose petals. I stared at the numbers on the house, wondering if I was at the right house.

"You did take me to the right house, right?" I asked the driver.

"You don't know your own house, Miss?" the driver asked, while giving a crazed look.

I looked again, realizing I was home, and slowly got out. I was a little nervous to walk to the entryway, when I noticed Christian was near the door with all smiles.

"Christian, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to surprise you, if that's okay."

I looked down at the rose petals and then back at him. "Did you go inside of my house?"

"Well, Val does have a key."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. I guess that explains why she wanted to meet with me for drinks.

"I wish I could have been informed about it."

"That's the idea of a surprise." Christian said while flashing a pearly white smile.

"Which is nice, but I really didn't want to be surprised, tonight."

"Is everything okay?"

I nodded. "It is. I just want to be alone and sort out everything that is happening between us..."

I stopped in the middle of the foyer to see the living room transformed into a sea of candles. Angel, which is my all-time favorite song, was playing on the stereo. I glanced at the plates sitting on the counter and smiled.

"You even cooked my favorite meal,"

"I had to set the mood, right."

"Wow, Chris, I don't know what to say."

"Just say that you want to spend time with me; that's all."

"Okay."

I went to the bathroom to freshen up, as Chris set the table. When I returned, he had everything placed, and he was pouring a glass of Merlot for me.

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome. Now, just sit back, relax, and see where tonight takes us."

I nodded as Chris sat across from me. We talked about how our day went, as well as current events. It felt good to be talking to him on a regular basis, but I really did need to know where things stood between us.

"Care to dance?"

I smiled as I took his hand, and we went to the living room. I put my arms around him, as his hands went on my waist. We swayed to the music, as I put my head on his shoulder.

"I never expected for us to be like this again."

Christian looked at me and smiled. "I did,"

"How?"

"Because I knew it was meant to be with us. I know it was my fault for what happened. I think I needed time to grow as an individual, and accept who I was before I could get involved with anyone. It was more of me having an issue with myself, which was the reason for our breakup."

"How do you know if I'll want to go back to you? Go back to us?"

"You said you wanted to start over."

"I did, but I also said in my own time. Right now, I just don't think I'm ready."

"Do you love me?"

I looked into his eyes and nodded. "That's why this is hard for me because I do love you. I want nothing more than for us to be together, but..."

"You're still scared that I'll leave you. Kimberly, that's something you don't have to worry about. I'm here for the long haul, baby, that is, if you'll let me be."

"I have to know in my heart that things will be different. Right now, I can't say that it is."

Christian looked disappointed. "I understand."

"Chris, I'm sorry if you're upset, but you have to understand my side of things. You left me, and I didn't even know why until now. Of course, I'm going to still feel some type of way with everything."

"But I've changed, Kim. If you let me, I can prove that to you."

"I'm sure you have changed, but I can't make a decision that would affect the rest of my life in a matter of seconds. You can't just come back into my life after a year, and expect everything to go back to normal."

"I know that, Kim. I wasn't expecting that, but I did expect for us to slowly regain each other's trust again."

"And we will, but in order for that to work, you have to give me some time to figure everything out."

Christian sighed. "I get it, and I'll respect your decision. Like I said on our date, I shouldn't expect for you to take me back so quickly; but when I saw you that night, all I could think about was the two of us together, reliving the fun moments that we shared. I missed you so much when I was away, so I want nothing more than for us to be together again."

My heart started racing as Christian came closer to me. "I'll give you your space for now, but I'm not going to stop fighting until you come back to me."

I felt as if I couldn't breathe, as Christian gave me a kiss on my cheek. He held me a little longer before letting go, and going to the door. I watched the door close, and I quickly sat down, wondering if I had made a huge mistake.

3.

It had been two weeks since I told Christian I needed space, and he did exactly that. I hadn't seen nor heard from him since that night. It was slowly confirming my theory that maybe we didn't belong together. Although I did tell him I needed time, I would have thought he would have at least asked Val or Vince how I was doing. It felt like deja vu all over again, but maybe this time I brought it on myself.

I glanced out at the window, seeing how drastically the weather had changed since Valentine's Day. During that night, it was particularly warm for February. Now, it was a chilly night, and the city was expecting snow.

Snow in Houston! Who would have thought?

I was still looking out of the window, when the doorbell rang. I looked at the wall clock, and noticed it was late for visitors to show up. I was hesitant to open the door, when I heard Val's loud voice outside.

"Open up, Kim!"

"What the hell?" I sighed and went to the door. I opened it to see her, Vince, and my parents standing outside.

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?" I asked, as I gave the two a hug.

"We have to have an excuse to see our only child?" my mom asked, as she walked into my house.

"No, but it's kind of odd that you are here. I just talked to you both an hour ago."

"A lot can happen in an hour," my dad said with a smile.

The four of them had goofy grins on their faces. Something was going on.

"Okay, you four, spill it. Why are you all here? You should all be snuggled up in your homes, since there's suppose to be snow coming."

Vincent laughed. "You believe that nonsense? It hasn't snowed here in almost 11 years."

"But, what if it does? Then the event will be even more romantic," Valerie said.

I stared at Val, wondering what she was talking about. "Event? What's going on..."

"Why don't you find something nice to wear so we can all leave?" My mom quickly jumped in. She looked at Val, who lightly shrugged.

"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what is going on? You all know I don't like surprises."

"Hopefully, you'll like this one," Vincent mumbled.

Valerie gently took my arm and ushered me to my bedroom. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but it looked as if I was outnumbered.

After picking out a winter white sweater dress, and brown boots, Valerie let me change alone, before coming back into my room, and getting me so we could leave. I glanced at my parents, who were grinning from ear to ear.

"We can't wait to see your reaction," my mom beamed.

I looked at her, wondering what she's talking about. When I talked to them earlier, it was just a normal conversation, even though my mom kept talking about Christian. I knew she loved him when we were together, and was a little heartbroken when we spilt. My dad, on the other hand, did like Christian, but was pissed when he broke things off.

"I guess I'll know soon enough," I declared. I gave up on trying to figure out what was going on, so I just went with the flow.

We all decided to take Vic's SUV, and everyone insisted that I ride in the passenger's seat. During the car ride, I stared out the window, thinking about everything that had happened the last few days. I hadn't had this much action in my life since Christian and I were together. I can say my life is much more interesting, again.

Vincent suddenly stopped, which meant the ride was over. I looked over, seeing that we were at a lighted open field. I could see an orchestra playing, as the sounds of Angel filled the night's sky. I looked around at the people that were inside the SUV, wanting someone to give me a hint to what was outside.

"We can't give you any hints, Hun. You just have to see for yourself," Valerie said.

I gave a nervous look as I opened the SUV door, and slowly walked out. I looked ahead, seeing Christian dressed in a black tux, as he gave a wide smile. I looked back at the SUV, as everyone was getting out. They gave encouraging smiles, as I looked back at Christian.

"What is all of this?" I asked as I slowly approached him.

"I know you said you needed space. That's why I gave it to you, but it was hard to do it."

I smiled. "Thank you for doing it."

"You're probably wondering what is going on, huh?"

"Yes, I definitely am. No one will give me any hints."

He laughed. "That's because I asked them not to. I know that was hard for Val to do."

"Whatever!" Val exclaimed.

I laughed, as I continued to stare at Christian.

"Is it okay if we take a walk?"

I nodded as he took my hand. We walked away from everyone, making our way to Christian's surprise. If I would have known where we were going, I wouldn't have worn high-heeled boots because now my feet were killing me.

We continued walking, when I noticed more lights were ahead. They were candles shaped into a huge heart. I glanced at Christian, who smiled before stopping me.

"While we were apart these last two weeks, I did a lot of thinking about us and where our lives should be together. When I left last year, I didn't want to leave you, but at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought if I ended things, you would find a man that would be able to provide for you..."

"You know I'm not like that, Christian. I knew you were going through a rough patch, but I would have still been by your side."

"Which I realize now, but as a man I didn't believe that because I should be the one taking care of you, and not the other way around. Anyway, what I did only made me realize how much of a fool I was. It not only hurt you, but me too. I couldn't live without you. That's why I did what I could to get you back. Thank God you weren't involved with anyone."

I gave a tiny smile. "I wasn't because I was still hung up on you."

"But it didn't erase the fact that you were miserable during that time. For that, I'm truly sorry. If I could go back and change things I would in a heartbeat."

"I know you would, but what's done is done. Right?"

Christian nodded. "That's why I wanted to do this right. I know during that time you were thinking I was going to propose to you, weren't you?"

I gave him a baffled look. "I wasn't thinking that."

"Yes, you were, Kim. That's why now; I can't mess up on this."

I looked ahead and saw Val, Vincent, and my parents holding up signs. I stared at Christian as he turned around, and began to walk towards the heart-shaped candles. While walking, he signaled for the four to come to me.

Each person turned over their sign, revealing the phase, "Will You Marry Me," in big, black letters. I looked at Christian, as he took out a blue, velvet ring box from his pocket, and bent down on one knee. I covered my mouth with both of my hands, as tears spilled down my cheeks.

"I know you probably thought I meant for us to date again, if we ever got back together, but I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about us spending the rest of our lives together. I want us to have kids, and live in a beautiful home, and grow old together. I want for us to have the life that we have imagined together.

We spent too much time apart from each other. That's why it's only fitting to go to the next step in our lives."

I continued to stare at the ring that Christian was holding. I felt I couldn't breathe. This was the moment I had been waiting for, but did I really want it? Did I feel as if we were rushing into things?

"What do you say, Kimberly Howard. Will you be Mrs. Christian Dawson?"

I heard the faint sounds of the music behind me, as I looked over at my family. They were still holding the signs, waiting on my answer.

"I was hurt when you broke things off with me. I felt as if I had done something wrong to make you leave."

"You did nothing wrong, Kim. It was all me."

"I know that now, but I didn't then. I thought I could move on, but when I saw you on Valentine's Day, I couldn't because I'd never stopped loving you. I still love you. Always have and always will."

"So, what are you saying?"

I nodded as I walked over to the heart. "Yes, I will marry you, Christian. I want to be Mrs. Christian Dawson!"

"Yes!" Christian exclaimed, as he got up. I went to him as he put the ring on my ring finger.

I heard everyone cheer as they yelled out congratulations. I leaned into Christian, giving him a kiss that was long overdue. I put my forehead to his, as he held me tighter.

"We can have a long engagement," he whispered.

I nodded. "It doesn't have to be too long, but at least a year."

"Sounds good to me."

"Even my dad was for this?" I asked.

"You see how happy he is? Besides, he gave his blessing."

I looked over at my dad, and he winked.

"Just know that we're together for the long haul, baby."

I smiled. "Which I'm looking forward to. Just know, next time talk to me if there's a problem."

He smiled. "I know, but there won't be a next time, because I have you back."

"Just like I have you."

And we sealed our engagement with another kiss. And to think that it took one night for us to reconnect again. If I didn't agree to Vincent's crazy scheme, I wouldn't have had a chance to talk to Christian again, and to find out why we broke up. I guess I have to thank Vincent for that. But for now, I was going to bask in the glow of becoming Mrs. Christian Dawson.

Now, I have a second chance to be with him, and to have my happily ever after.

2018 (C) Sheena Binkley

Sheena Binkley

Sheena Binkley first discovered her love for storytelling when writing her first story for a class project at the tender age of nine. Since then, she has composed several short stories and numerous tales that are not only engaging, but simply entertaining. She is also a freelance writer, penning articles on various topics including education and entertainment.

To date, her best-selling novels include In Love with My Best Friend, Love Unbroken, Something Just Ain't Right, and The Love Chronicles.

In April of 2016, Sheena launched her own publishing company, which focuses strictly on romance books. Besides writing, she loves reading, shopping, and spending time with family and friends. She lives in Houston (where the weather is always unpredictable) with her husband and son.

Follow Sheena on Social Media:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/sheenabinkleyauthor

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# Say That You Love Me

by

Kay Blake

Destiney and Malcolm have hit a rough patch. In this story there is love, color and second chances.

Photo Courtesy of @1321540500

You know, love is a funny thing. Love can literally make or break you. It could be the be all and end all. At least that was what younger me thought. The younger me was so hopeful. So naive. So completely oblivious to all that life really had waiting. Color me red. Color me blue.

And when I started this relationship, I did so gullibly. But life happened, and we changed. I lost two children through miscarriage, and I felt Malcolm blamed me. Of course he denied it, but I felt he did. He was different with me. He only showed any real passion when we fucked. We didn't make love anymore. And it pissed me off. He pissed me off. Sometimes, I wanted to hate him. Really hate him, but I couldn't. Color my days black.

The other night we got into a bad argument. He was late, once again, after I had spent all day cooking what he asked for. He came in nonchalantly, like it didn't matter. And it pissed me off. I was livid.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I said angrily.

"Working."

"For three extra hours?"

"Yes. Listen, I had to finish this or my boss would've been on my ass."

"You don't know how to use your cell phone all of a sudden? You're on it all the time."

"Listen Destiney, I'm sorry. I swear it wasn't on purpose. Damn, calm down."

I laughed sarcastically. "Calm down? Calm down? I cook and wait for you for hours, and I need the calm down? You know what Malcolm fuck you. Fuck your job. Fuck all of this. I don't know why I keep kidding myself into thinking that things would change with you. It won't. I am done."

"I am sorry. I swear I'm sorry. You're right."

"I know I'm right."

"It doesn't mean you have to be this upset, though. I come home from a long day, and the last thing I want to hear is you yelling at me."

I shook my head.

"Why are you here, Mal?"

"What?"

"Why are you here? Why are you even in this relationship? It is obvious I am only a sex thing for you. You never mention marriage. We are at a standstill. You have been this way since the miscarriage. I hate that you blame me. I know you do."

"That's not true."

"Save it. When was the last time you said I love you first? Why is it so hard for you to say that you love me?"

He was quiet after that. And I knew he would be. What could he say? I wasn't wrong.

And ever since the argument that day, he had been different. He didn't say too much, and for once I was grateful. It wasn't that I regretted what happened. I was just relieved, that for once, I didn't have to hear the ugly words that constantly played over and over.

Sure, anxiety had me worrying about all the things I had never worried about before. Anxiety had me wound up so tight that I was damn near a prisoner, trapped in my life, that didn't seem like it was my own. You would think you were supposed to tell your significant other how you felt, but every single time I thought to express myself, I found myself in tears by the end of it.

His way of dealing with things was to work hard, and stay at work later at nights. It was disconcerting to me. Did I disgust him now? Did he not love me anymore?

I sat.

I could hear the front door open, and I knew that he was home. Normally, I would go to him and hug him; ask him about his day. However, today I didn't feel like doing that. I felt so raw from it all. And I wanted a break from his accusatory stare. He came into my studio. I could feel his presence, even before he was near. Everything about him was so massive. So massive, in fact, that sometimes he made it hard to focus. He had loosened his tie, and his hair was unruly. So, this all had bothered him too? I studied the way his legs moved, as he took each step towards me. I studied the way his jaw tightened, as if he was thinking about something.

Taking off his shirt, he threw it on the couch, and I found myself mesmerized by how perfect his body was. How sexy he looked doing something so simple. Finally, he was in front of me, and he touched my face lightly as if to get my attention. The thing was, he always had my attention, even when I felt I didn't have his.

"Do you like what you see, Destiney?" he said softly.

I nodded. It was true. I did like what I saw. I loved what I saw, and at that moment, I hated myself. Hated that I allowed him this much control over my body, my soul.

I had been fantasizing ways I could have him all day. It was the reason why I came to paint. Painting eased me from my thoughts and from my fears. I was hoping that I wouldn't have wanted Mal, but I did. I wanted him so bad.

"Why do you look so afraid of me? Like I'm the big bad wolf or something?"

"Maybe because that is what you are Malcolm," I said softly.

"You think so?" he said, stepping closer to me. I could smell his scent much better now, and I closed my eyes inhaling it. Inhaling him and wanting his strong hands to touch me in places that have been on fire all day.

I stood up from my stool, to back away from him, my nipples now protruding furiously, under the flimsy shirt I wore. I was profoundly aware of his sexual magnetism. He was too. I could sense it in his aura. He knew how bad I wanted him. Almost, needed him. But my mind said no. It wouldn't fix our issues. It wouldn't fix anything. Okay, but who was I lying to? Myself, probably. Every kiss we shared was like magic. Magic I wanted to dip myself in, and revel in it forever. His whole body screamed sex, and he knew it. Everyone knew it, but as far as I know he only gave it all to me.

He stared at me, an expression on his face I couldn't read. I prided myself on being able to read people, but with him I couldn't get a clear reading of what exactly it was he wanted from me. It drove me insane, and worried me at the same time.

"You know, every time I catch you staring at me, I could tell you miss me. You never want to admit it. Like you are afraid to admit it. Then you move away, like you don't want to be close to me. Is there a reason for that?" he asked his eyebrow rose, and he stepped closer. My mouth ran dry, and I tried to swallow.

If he moved any closer to me, I was done for. I would give in. Damn it, he knew. Fuck. Hell, fuck him!

"You're probably cursing me out right now in your head. I know how you are. I know how you think. It is one of the reasons that I love you so much. You are just...well, you!"

He gave me that mouthwatering smile, and I closed my eyes counting to three to myself. I wouldn't last long if he kept this up.

"You don't act like it."

"There you go with that smart ass mouth. Of course I love you. I only ever loved you. Only ever will."

"Bullshit. You act like I am fucking invisible. I don't matter to you anymore, Malcolm. We play house, but that's it. It is all fucking pretend."

"You want to test that theory?" he asked again, that small smile leaving his face.

"I..."

His face was inches from mine. Painfully so. The fire that radiated off of him was too much to bear. He was lighting a fire under me that I couldn't seem to shake. Actually, I didn't want to shake it because we both knew I wanted that fire, even if it was only for a moment. He could give me one look, and I would do anything. I hated it. I loved it.

Fuck, he was making this difficult. Oh, so difficult.

"You know I can even tell that your breath has quickened," he said, stepping so close into my space that I was backed into the wall.

So what he was handsome, and sexy and every word that comes to mind for a man as good looking as him, but it didn't mean anything. Sure, he was mine. Sure, he knew things about me that no one else would ever know. And yes, we have been through so much together, but it wasn't going to happen. I refused to succumb to him. Even as I said this, I trembled under his stare.

It was weird how much he knew me. Knew me better than anyone I have ever known. I wasn't sure how though. We used to talk about everything. I felt he took every single word to heart. He listened. Really listened with no judgments. No questions. Just being there. That was something that I hadn't been able to get with anyone, but with him it was like we had known each other forever. But, now I didn't know anymore.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" he said interrupting my thoughts.

"Nothing," I said.

"Really? Nothing, huh?" he said, tilting my face towards his.

I looked up into his dark brown eyes. Brown eyes that always looked straight into my soul. His eyes knew so much, and yet there was still so much I felt I didn't know. And still, I trembled next to him. He gave me a slight grin, and I closed my eyes leaning in. I heard him sigh softly.

I was beginning to feel foolish. Was it really that hard to resist him or was it simply, I really didn't want to.

I opened my eyes, and he was smiling. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. They were soft. Just like they always were. I opened my mouth slightly, and he stuck his tongue in, causing me to moan. He chuckled a bit before pulling away.

"You really think I don't love you?" he asked me softly.

"I don't know. Sometimes it feels like you don't."

He took my hand, and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. His dick was hard. Just the way I liked it to be.

"Do you think I could get like this if I didn't?"

I laughed bitterly. "Sex is sex. Any man can get hard if he wants to get laid."

"You think that's all I want?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Of course, that is not all I want. I want all of you. Mind, body and soul."

"That's the problem, you have that. I don't think I can say the same about you."

"You do."

His fingers trailed across my neck and down the front of my shirt. Once he reached my erect nipples, he squeezed them roughly. I could feel the dampness in my panties. I moaned loudly.

"If you keep making sounds like that, I'll take you right here," he said the tone of his voice dangerously low.

"And maybe that is what I want," I said, hating how easy it was for me to let him have his way.

He kissed the top of my head. "I know, my love. I know."

Grabbing my hand, he led me to the bedroom. I sat down at the edge of the bed watching as he got out of his dress pants. I watched how his dick pressed against his briefs, and thought just how much I needed to have him inside of me. I wanted him. I wanted it all, even if I hated myself in the morning. I needed him.

He came to me then and bent down, kissing me again. His tongue pried my mouth open, and I greedily took his tongue with mine. He gently lifted the shirt I wore over my head, and I was left with nothing but my panties on.

He let out a low whistle, and inside I smiled, happy that he liked what he saw. Happy, that even if it was only for a moment, I could shake this temporary pain.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked him, repeating the question he had asked me earlier.

"Yes, I do," he said appreciatively before placing one of my breasts in his mouth.

He nibbled and sucked on my full breasts, and I moaned pressing my body to his. It was not enough and all too much at the same time. Leaning over me, his mouth trailed kisses down my stomach until he reached the edge of my panties.

Pulling them off I felt goose bumps come across my skin. His mouth licked hungrily, but slowly along my seam. He sucked on my lips, his tongue dipping into me, in and out. He repeated that many times, driving me insane. A strangled moan came out of me, and he let out a low one.

"You love when I do this? Love how I feast on you? How I relish your taste?"

I could only nod. With that, he took my clit into his mouth, his tongue flickering across my bud, sucking gently and rough at the same time. He had reduced me to nothing but a puddle of whimpering mess. I needed to get off badly. I bucked my hips towards him, wanting him, needing him inside me. I could barely contain myself anymore.

"Anxious, aren't we love?" he said with a slight chuckle.

"Patience, baby. I know you are almost there. Let me finish you off this way first," he said.

He dove back down there, his tongue deep in my pussy, his strong arms holding me down. I fisted the sheets, knowing that it was too much and still not enough. I let out a scream as I came gloriously, and he kept lapping it all up, as the waves of my orgasm washed over my body.

He propped himself up as he gave me that devilish smile. I studied his olive colored skin, and his strong jaw. The way his hair would get when he was sweaty. I loved him. I just wasn't prepared for if he didn't love me anymore.

My hands reached for his chest, and I pulled him closed, grabbing a fistful of his hair, bringing him to me so I could feel his lips on mine again. He kissed me.

"Please...Mal. I need it..." I muttered.

"I love you, Destiney. I love you so much. I love everything about you. Your beautiful brown skin. The way it shines like you are constantly glowing. I love the way you twirl your hair, and the way you stare intently at one of your paintings. I love your pouts, and when your mouth is in a scowl. I love how you love me. How my name sounds as it comes off your tongue, no matter if it's loving or angry. I love it all. I am sorry I neglected that with you. I will prove it for the rest of my life if I have to. Show you how much I love you. But for now I need to feel you. I need to feel your warmth, and be connected to you, skin to skin."

And as he said these things, I could feel his dick pressed against my thigh, and I had never loved him more than I did at that moment.

"Take me now," I whispered.

"Anything for you," he said, and with that he pressed inside of me. I let out a loud gasp, never prepared for how big he was. It was always like it was the first time with him.

"Breathe, baby. I got you. I promise," he said.

I nodded, not able to speak. He pushed until he was already in, and then steadied himself over me.

"Love me...please" I said softly.

"Whatever you want, my love," he said. He took me to places I had never been. Every time he moved. Every time he whispered into my ear, I moaned. I loved it. I loved him. Color me white. Color me bad.

"I love you so much," he said over and over.

We moved together in combined bliss. I could feel the room spin, and my soul felt it was going to a place that I haven't in a long time. We were making love, engaged in a battle that I had lost before it even began.

I had reached my peak. I was there, and I stiffened under him as I came, fireworks going off all around my head. I screamed out his name over and over as the waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Say that you love me," I said in a strangled voice.

He grunted. "I love you," he whispered, and I could feel his dick flex and he came. I loved the pulses that came from him as he came. We came. Together.

He laid his head on me trying to catch his breath.

"That was amazing," he said.

"It was," I murmured, already feeling tired. Wanting nothing more to hold him close, and never leave his side.

He rolled to the left of me, and he pulled me close to him. My eyes were starting to get heavy, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter that I was upset the last few days. It didn't matter how much we had to work through. What mattered was that he was here next to me. That he said he loved me. He said it many times. And for now, I was content. For now I think I would color myself red.

2018 (C) Kay Blake

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Kay Blake

Kay is an award winning author who writes sassy, sexy and sweet contemporary and interracial romance. She is from arguably the greatest city in the world. (New York). She is a sarcastic sweetheart who prefers snuggling at home with a good book. She is a mom to three cubs. Kay indulges in strawberry cheesecake, horror movies, Harry Potter, The Walking Dead, wrestling and of course a happily ever after.

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# Train Me

by

Eliza David

A physical trainer in a new town makes friends with her client, a retired NFL player. What happens when professional lines are crossed and passion takes over?

Photo Courtesy of Dark Red Photography

I tugged at the hem of my starched white scrubs, as my new manager Becky flipped through the pages of her file. She looked at me in that familiar way I'd known since I began working as a physical trainer a decade ago. People always underestimated my under five-foot frame, my endearing smile, and - most of all - my smooth caramel brown skin. I knew I stood out in tiny Wakefield, which was just sixty miles south of my hometown of Atlanta. Working in the city for the first ten years of my career made me forget just how different I was, but the residents of Wakefeld made sure to remind me throughout my first month in town.

"Can't say we've had a PT as small as you on our staff," Becky said, turning on her heel, as I followed her down the hall. "You'll be working with some big clients. Most of them will be around six feet tall - and wide."

"No worries, I can handle it. I'm small, but mighty," I said, repeating the phrase my mother had drilled into my head during my forty years on earth. It was reassuring to me, a quip that restored my faith in myself, and sparked a faith in me for others. Well, others, excluding Becky. I could tell the fifty-something unit manager had zero faith in my abilities, despite my stacked resume and glowing recommendations.

"Hope so," she huffed, as we turned into a training room. "First client of the day is Clive Norman."

I sparked up upon recognition of the name. "Clive Norman? The football player?"

"Former. Retired five years back after he ripped his ACL on the green. Coming in today at noon to resume therapy." Becky flipped the pages back and stuffed the clipboard under her beefy arm. "You'll perform a consult, followed by a run-through of some basic leg and knee exercises with him. Should be easy enough for your first day." She gave me a final once-over, a smirk on her face that indicated she didn't believe I was up for such a run-of-the-mill appointment.

I lifted my chin. "I look forward to Mr. Norman's visit."

"That's another thing," Becky said waving a finger across my torso. "Your scrubs. They're too tight."

I tugged at my hem again. "I..."

"This ain't the time to be showing off those curves of yours, especially when most of your clients are men. Save that look for the weekends, and grab scrubs a size bigger to make room for your..." Becky's voice trailed off, giving my body a final once-over, before turning to walk out of the training room.

"Duly noted," I said, half-enthusiastically to her back. Containing my country-thick body in scrubs had been a challenge, but my curves blended in with the rest of Atlanta's buxom women. Here in lily-white Wakefield, however, this chocolate body of mine was a rarity. I let out a sigh after Becky left me alone in the room, relieved to be rid of her judgmental gaze. I turned to give the room a quick review, noting the antiquated equipment. My old clinic, nestled in the Bankhead District, was a state-of-the-art facility with oak treatment tables, stainless steel exercise bikes, and a colorful children's corner for our tiniest patients. Wakefield Rehabilitation Center, however, boasted nothing more than a worn treadmill, a rehab trainer cycle with a crack in its plastic wheel shell, and a row of dusty gray medicine balls. I took a deep breath, as I walked to my desk to read up more on my new client.

I sat with the manila file folder in my hand, and stared at the C. Norman written in black Sharpie on the tab. I was nervous about being the newbie at Wakefield Rehab, and the thought of my first client being someone relatively famous made me all the more anxious. I took in as much information about the former baller as I could in the hour I'd spent at my desk. Clive was thirty-six - just a few years younger than me. My eyes glazed over the pictures of his injury, ligaments twisted pre-surgery. The next page surprised me with a picture of him in full uniform, a throwback to his professional years. He was very handsome, a face that must have only grown more beautiful with age. I was tracing a finger across the pic when I heard footsteps approach the office.

Becky turned the corner with a visitor in tow. "Meet your client, Mr. Clive Norman."

I stood up, my eyes impatient to meet his. I was right. He was still a beautiful man, his skin a velvet tea-and-milk tone with commanding hazel eyes. I swallowed as I walked toward him with a professional hand out for a shake.

"Mr. Norman, I'm Tamela Davis, and I'll be your PT for the next six weeks."

A warm smile, framed by his trimmed beard, emerged as he took my hand in a firm shake. "Well, if I knew PTs looked like you, I'd have come back to therapy a long time ago."

Becky let out a fake laugh, placing a coy hand on his shoulder. "Well, go easy on her. She's new to the center, and is having a little challenge getting used to the dress code, as it were."

I stopped myself from cutting my eyes at her snide remark before I felt Clive give my hand a small tug. "I think she's following the dress code quite well, if I may say so myself," he said, his eyes bearing into mine. He turned to Becky before slipping his hand from mine. "Does Ms. Davis have any other clients?"

"Well, she has a few scheduled for this after-"

"Can they be referred to another PT? I'd prefer to have Ms. Davis' services exclusively. Is this possible?"

Becky looked back at me with a gasp before pleading, "Of course, Mr. Norman, but as I mentioned, she is brand new to the clinic and--"

"What's your resume?" Clive said, turning his attention back to me, and cutting Becky's stuttering short.

I squared my shoulders. "Ten years at Atlanta PT in Bankhead. That was after I got my degree in sports therapy from Clark-Atlanta. I'm planning on going back for my Masters when I find the time and the money, but I enjoy working with patients too much to stop right now."

"You don't sound so new to me, Ms. Davis," Clive said before turning back to Becky. "I will be Ms. Davis' exclusive client. Any hours she loses from the clients you reschedule will be billed to me."

I could tell by the tone of his voice that the statement wasn't a request.

Becky twisted her hands, torn between pleasing a very famous client, and giving me the opportunity she didn't think I deserved. "Very well then," she said in a flat tone, her chubby face pink with embarrassment. "We'll adjust Tamela's schedule to accommodate only you, Mr. Norman." She gave me a stern glance before turning out of the door. My nerves rattled as he returned his gaze to me.

"I hope you won't think that was too forward. Will you miss your other clients terribly?"

I gave a nervous chuckle, smoothing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Mr. Norman, I'm just--"

"Clive," he interrupted, his low grumble of a voice causing me to clench below. "Please, you can call me Clive."

"Clive," I started. "I'm just flattered that you chose me without any pretense."

"Well, it's rare to see a sister in Wakefield, especially in a professional setting. How've you been holding up? Gotta be a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the ATL."

My shoulders dropped. "Yeah, it's been weird being here. All of my family is in Atlanta, and I don't know a soul in Wakefield."

I felt Clive's hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Well, you know a soul now."

"I appreciate that," I replied as our eyes met again. The warmth stirring inside of me almost made me forget that this man - this famous man - was my client. I needed to get a hold of myself. I turned toward the equipment in the center of the room, shifting my body from his touch. "Let's begin our tour, shall we?"

"Yes, let's. Haven't been in PT in over a year."

I walked us toward one of the therapy bikes. "Yes, I read in your file that you aggravated your ACL recently."

"That I did," he said, nodding with a smile. "Had my son over for the weekend, and he convinced his old man to get out on the grass to toss the ball around."

"Tossed it a little too hard, huh?"

"Clearly," he said, smoothing his hand across the handlebar. I hated myself for noticing he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. "I guess that ever since my divorce, I've been trying to take full advantage of my weekends with him."

"That's admirable. Well, I'll do my very best to get you all fixed up here."

"Oh, I have full faith in your capabilities, Miss Tamala," Clive replied, closing the gap between us. He gave a quick glance to the doorway before saying, "Listen, I know this is totally unprofessional, and you probably have a man so--"

"I don't," I said too fast.

Clive's smile widened. "Let me take you out to dinner."

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "I just got hired, and I'm not sure if you could tell or not, but I'm not exactly welcomed into the fold here."

He took my hand, allowing my fingers to dangle from his. "I understand. You think that just because I got a little bit of fame, and can afford to live in these suburbs, that my race still isn't an issue?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you had problems out here?"

"Been stopped a few times, but let go as soon as the cops realized I was Clive the Drive," he replied, doing a careful rendition of his infamous touchdown dance.

I laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You be careful with those knees now," I said, before Clive pulled me into him.

"I'll ask again," he started, his voice a quiet grumble. "Let me take you out to dinner."

Maybe it was his cologne, a sensual mix of lavender, musk, and sandalwood. He was charming enough, but that's to be expected from the former Falcons wide receiver. Maybe it was how I felt in his arms, a sensation my body hadn't known from a man in months. Either way, I knew it was a mistake before the answer fell from my lips.

"Sure...but after a month."

Clive's brows shot up. "So..."

"So," I said, loosening myself from his embrace. "Let's see how our professional relationship goes for this first month. If your mobility, and my attitude about this new town both improve, we'll reward ourselves with dinner."

I watched as he nodded with that sexy smirk of his. "Ah, so we train each other - because, let me tell you, Wakefield isn't that bad."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that," I said, our eyes meeting again. I knew that if I wanted to keep my job, and still risk it all to have an evening with Clive the Drive, I needed to make sure I could mix business with pleasure. I broke my gaze from his and walked to the treatment table.

"Let's get started on your Month One, Mr. Norman."

***

Two weeks had passed since I'd started working with Clive. While the sexual tension was thickening between us, we remained professional on site. He'd playfully taunt me with text messages afterhours, urging me to break my self-imposed vow to not date him until our thirty-day threshold had passed. I'd persevered, never giving into the temptation to indulge Clive's requests. The memories of massaging his calves, watching his body flex with the calibrated movements of the therapy machinery, and catching his eyes wander across my body during my sessions just a second too long were rushing back to me in Becky's office that afternoon. It was our weekly one-on-one meeting, the time she took to pull rank over me. I prayed that she was none the wiser of my attraction to my client.

"So, Tamela," she said from across her desk, turning away from her monitor. "How have things been going with Mr. Norman?"

"Good. Great, actually," I said, smiling a touch too hard. "The mobility in his knee is improving, and he's taken well to the lifting regimen I've prescribed. If he--"

"I'll cut to the chase," Becky interrupted, scooting her squeaking roller chair up to the desk. "It's been brought to my attention that you and Mr. Norman seem to be...closer than what's deemed an appropriate therapist/client relationship."

I felt my nerves tremble in my chest. "How so?"

"Nothing specific, really. It's just been observed that Mr. Norman seems to be friendlier to you than the rest of the staff."

"It's been observed, you say? By whom?"

Becky showed her palms. "Well, now look, Tamela. No need to be defensive."

I stifled back a sigh, well aware of where this was going. If a black woman dared to question authority, she had an 'attitude problem'. "I'm not being defensive at all, Becky," I started. "Just curious about where this observation stemmed from."

"It's none of your concern. What should be concerning is that it's a prevalent impression, a bad one at that. It would be imperative that you get your behavior with Mr. Norman under control. Otherwise, despite his preference, you'll be placed with another client. Am I clear?"

I clenched my jaw before giving her a curt nod. It was clear, all right - this observation stemmed from one source: Becky. "Crystal clear," I said, before standing from the chair. "Will there be anything else, Becky?"

She turned back to her monitor. "Not for today, but..." Becky gave a side glance at me as she typed. "I'll keep you posted if I hear anything else."

"I'm certain you will. Good afternoon," I said, turning out of the door. I headed to the bathroom, trying hard to keep the tears from falling before I reached the private stall. I didn't care if anyone heard my sniffles. Being the newbie at Wakefield presented me with challenges, but the thought of my own supervisor trying to sabotage me felt as if it could break me. After a moment, I gathered myself, walked out of the stall, and looked at my tear-streaked face in the mirror.

"You can do this, Tamela," I whispered to my reflection. As much as I needed the job, I knew my body needed Clive just as much. If I could manage our mutual attraction for another two weeks, it would give me time to come up with a plan to keep my career and my attraction intact.

It seemed like our month together passed in a series of laughs and conversations. What surprised me was how much I learned about Clive Norman, the man. He had a story to tell at each of our sessions, and all of them left me in stitches. As he peddled his paced miles on the stationary bike, Clive shared a collegiate tale of him and his frat brothers stealing the mascot costume from their football rivals. He worked his stretching regimen on the wooden Pilates machine, regaling me with a laundry list of pranks he'd participated in at the expense of his NFL coaches. There was never a dull moment between us during our time together in the office, which led to conversations about what we'd do once he got me outside of my professional world.

"So, Tamela," he groaned as I raised his calf toward the ceiling for a stretch. "Tonight's the night."

I nodded, my cheeks warming with anticipation. "It is." I lowered his leg back to the table, and moved in on his arm. "I hope you don't mind my change of plans about staying in. Just thought it be better for us to remain discreet, you know."

"Absolutely, I agree. Besides," he paused. I felt his strong fingers ease up the thigh of my khakis, swooping upwards with the curve of my ass. "I can't wait to taste you."

I gave his muscular arm a playful smack before laying it back on the table. "Clive! Not here!"

"I meant to say, I can't wait to taste your cooking," he said, giving me that sly smile of his.

I walked around to his left side. "I'll bet. But seriously, watch those hands. Becky could walk in here at any minute. I told you she has had her eye on me these past two weeks."

"Let her. I don't care."

I twisted my mouth as I raised his leg toward the ceiling. "Well, Clive the Drive doesn't have to care. She's not on a mission to fire you. In fact, I think she's got a thing for you."

Clive gave my wrist a gentle tug toward him. He gazed up at me from the table, his eyes hungry for me. "Well, that's too bad for her because I have a thing for someone else."

I felt myself get wet, as my nipples hardened inside of my bra. "Is that so, Mr. Norman?"

"It is," he replied, releasing my wrist, and tracing his fingers between my legs.

I clenched, letting a quick moan escape my lips. "Clive, don't..." I whispered a lie. I'd been aching for his touch for weeks, just not at the clinic. This was risky at best. "What if--"

"What if?" he whispered back, giving my pussy a soft kneading. My hips moved against his grasp as he grumbled, "Are you wet?"

I nodded, my lips parting as he locked his gaze upon mine.

"When's the last time a man's had the honor of touching you?"

"It's...it's been a while..." I whined out, gripping the rubber cushion of the table, as I felt my orgasm approaching faster than I wanted. "Please stop, Clive," my voice trembled out.

I felt him unbutton my khakis, the zipper clicking down, as he eased his strong hand into my panties. "You really want me to stop?"

I closed my eyes as he played in my wetness. My hand slipped from the cushion to the metal railing as Clive's two fingers massaged my clit. "Oh Clive...please," I pled for him to stop. Or continue, I wasn't sure.

"I want you to come. You deserve it," he demanded as his fingers worked beneath me. His words made me let go, my first manmade climax in months washing over me. I sealed my eyes shut, gripping the table as my softness soaked his fingertips. I hadn't fully recovered when he slid his hand away, my clit pulsing from the aftermath of our risky moment. I opened my eyes to see him staring back at me from the table, the shock setting in at what we'd done. "Shit," I exclaimed as I reached for my pants' zipper.

Clive smiled as he watched me button my khakis. "You looked beautiful when you came."

I gave his clenched bicep a slap. "Don't do that again! I could be fired!"

"I'll see to it that you'll never be fired. I don't care what your boss has to say."

I put a hand on my hip in jest. "Oh, is that right, Mr. Big Time NFL Player?"

"Indeed," Clive said, easing himself to a seated position. I noticed the visible hard-on imprinted in his mesh shorts, as he took both of my hands in his.

"Listen," he started, rubbing the tops of my hands with his thumbs. "I haven't been this excited about a woman in years. And yes, you excite me, Tamela. I plan to show you tonight just how much you excite me."

***

"Clive Norman is your client? Girl!"

Cackles rang through my cell phone, as my baby sister Terri swooned after I let her in on my famous client. "You have all the luck. All these men in Atlanta I've dated. Come to find out, the real players are out in the burbs!"

I laughed, as I placed the cell on the counter, and stirred the boiling pasta on the stove. "Girl, hush. You aren't even thirty yet. You have all the time in the world to find the man of your dreams."

"Shit, well, Clive the Drive is pretty close to it," she said before lowering her voice. "What's his body like?"

I stopped stirring and gazed ahead. "Amazing, girl...but he's my client. I need to keep it cute."

"And letting him finger you on the job is 'keeping it cute'?"

I sighed. I knew better than to tell her about my moment with Clive that morning, but I had to tell someone. Why not my only sibling? "That was a fluke, and it is never happening again on the job."

"Mmmm, but what's happening tonight?"

I took the pot of noodles off of the stovetop, and emptied the contents of the steaming pot into a strainer in the sink. "We're having dinner, some wine, a little conversation, and then..." My voice trailed off, knowing that - if Clive's promise of excitement earlier was any indication - I'd have more than a hand down my panties by the end of the evening.

Terri's chuckle from the cell pulled me from my thoughts of him. "Well, Honey, have a good time with Clive the Drive. Hope he takes you for a ride!"

"Bye fool!" I said with a laugh, before pushing the End Call button on my screen. I went on with my dinner prep, my nerves building with each passing minute. Clive was expected to arrive soon and, I had to admit, seeing him outside of Wakefield would be strange. I was more nervous about the dinner than the sex. It wasn't like I didn't have an idea of how he looked naked. I'd spent a month stretching his lithe body every which way. I only hoped he'd return the favor tonight.

The chime of the doorbell sounded before I took a final look at the table set for two. I exhaled as I opened the door, my eyes landing on a different Clive than I was used to seeing at the clinic. His body was easy in a black button down and dark denim jeans. "Clive, welcome."

"Tamela, you look amazing," he said as he stepped over the threshold, and offered a bouquet to me. "For you."

"Pink roses, my favorite," I said, closing the door behind him. "So you were actually listening to me during our many conversations during therapy." I turned into the kitchen with him hot on my heels.

"Of course," Clive replied. "I listened to every word you said."

I tuned to him once we reached the counter. "Oh, did you, now?"

"I did," he growled, edging me against the counter. His warm breath tickled my earlobe, before he traced kisses along the curve of my neck. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to indulge in the feel of his soft lips on my skin. When I felt him harden against my thigh, I opened my eyes with a start, placing my palms on his chest. "Dinner first," I said reluctantly.

He draped his eyes across my face, before grabbing my waist and placing me on the counter. His hands smoothed underneath the skirt of my royal blue wrap dress. I jumped when I heard the rip of my panties.

"I said dinner first, Clive," I said, half-smiling at his forwardness.

Clive knelt before me, and smiled up at me from between my legs. "Oh, no worries. I'm about to eat right now." The first swipe of his tongue sent a shock through me, one I couldn't recover from before he tasted me a second time. I gripped the edge of the countertop as he spread my legs wider, exploring my folds with his incredibly skilled mouth. My head fell back as his tongue found my clit, taking it into his warm wet mouth with ease. He suckled me as my thighs quivered against the marble, my climax rushing over me as I grabbed his bald head and pushed him further into me.

He rose up, taking my mouth in a kiss. I tasted myself on his tongue, as my hands reached down to unzip his pants. I fell to my knees but, before I could take him in, I felt his fist in my hair.

"You don't have to--"

"I want to," I moaned, his hardness in my gentle grasp. His grip loosened in my hair before I took him in my mouth. He groaned as the tip hit the back of my throat, his upper body arching against the countertop. His hand returned to my hair, this time guiding my head against his length.

"I'm almost there," I heard his whimper above me. It gave me an illicit joy to reduce a man of his brawn and strength to a whine. I moved faster against him until I felt his warm slickness fill my mouth. I slid him from my mouth before Clive picked me up, mounted me on the counter, and entered me so smoothly that it reminded me of his quick and precise movement on the Astroturf. I held him as he pumped inside of me, giving myself to him. I clawed his shirt up over his head, hurrying the touch the smooth pecs I'd been admiring in our sessions for the past month. His body seized against mine as I held him tighter, feeling him empty his essence into me a second time.

We held each other on the counter for a beat before Clive lifted his head from the crook of my neck. "Another satisfying workout with you," he said, stroking my cheek.

I held his bearded face in my hands. "I think this might've been the best training session yet."

2018 (C) Eliza David

Eliza David

Eliza David is the author of the six-book Cougarette series. She was born and raised on the noisy South Side of Chicago, but now lives in super quiet Iowa. When she's not writing, working full-time, or raising two children with her loving husband, Eliza enjoys reading throwback Jackie Collins, and indulging in the occasional order of cheese fries.

Eliza is a blogger as well, having served as a contributing writer for Real Moms of Eastern Iowa, Good Men Project, and Thirty on Tap. She was a featured panelist at the Iowa Soul Festival and Iowa City Book Festival.

Eliza's ninth novel, The Follow, dropped in July 2017. Its sequel (The Follow 2: Blocked), slated for release on February 16, 2018, is available for preorder now. She's currently working on a spinoff to The Follow duet - The Lamar St. Jon Experience - a novella slated for release in March 2018.

Follow Eliza on Social Media:

FaceBook: www.facebook.com/elizadwrites

Twitter: www.twitter.com/elizadwrites

IG: <http://www.instagram.com/writegirlproblems>

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# For Eternity

by

Kiana Donae

when I said I do

this is what I dreamt of

growing old together

growing stronger in love

my heart still flutters

at the sound of your voice

yeah we argue

but at the end

you'll always be my choice

side by side

ride or die

we might not be perfect

but we love each other just right

next to God

you keep me number 2 in your life

and I thank God every day

that you made me your wife

you are my everything

my guiding light

with you I'm a better woman

with you I have true purpose

and standing beside you

is where I belong

this I am certain

you are my favorite person

my lover

my best friend

the one I'd go to the end

of the Earth for

and if I could I'd hang the moon for

give you the World and more

so as we lay here together

on our anniversary

I vow my all to you again

to love you for an eternity.

2017 (C) Kiana Donae

Kiana Donae

--------

Kiana Donae is the author of three poetry collections, Love & Ink (2014), Love & Ink Vol.2: Reflections (2015) & Cultivating Ink (2017). Her poetry has appeared in many places with a few being mentioned here, I Am Not A Silent Poet (a blogzine), Second Sight/Insight II art exhibit (Kalamazoo Institute of Art), Black Fox (literary magazine), ME! Newsletter (Hampton Publishing House, LLC) and HoneyBeNatural (a magazine). She lives in a small town in Southwest Michigan with her family.

Follow Kiana on Social Media:

Facebook: <http://facebook.com/poetkianadonae>

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/poetkianadonae>

Instagram: http://http://instagram.com/poetkianadonae

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# Behind the Words

by

Keinya Graves

A journal is defined as a daily record of news and events of a personal nature, better known as a Diary. We all have family and friends that we can tell almost everything, but then there are things that we choose to only share with ourselves.

How do we tell anyone the power someone has over us? The first text, announcing the return of a long lost friend, triggers several emotional memories. Memories of the first meeting in a small bar that peeked interest. The second meeting being interrupted by a phone call, and the third; the beginning of feelings that weren't ready to be unleashed.

Following a bad relationship, we tend to close ourselves off to the possibility of finding something good. We try to bond with someone on a sexually level without the emotional connection. But what happens when our subconscious makes the decision for us. What happens when lack of communication could have taken the bad experience away and given us what we had craved, even if we didn't know that we craved it? What happens when we get "comfortable"?

When all is said and done the only one we can talk it through with, is ourselves and the pages of the Journal.

Photo Courtesy of Devon Vereen

Journal entry: Jan. 20, 2017

Reborn: Brought back to life or activity

I could still remember how his touch felt. It has been so long since we had even spoken, so when I got that call that he was coming back to town, I began having flashbacks. I don't know what it is that he does to me, but I can't let him out of my soul.

I remember that first night. He walked in the bar, and sat right beside me. I was with my friends, and he was alone. I had just ordered my third drink and as soon as my glass was sat down, he reached for it.

"Excuse me," I looked at him. "That's mine."

"Sorry, I think you're mistaken. I just ordered this."

I tried to get the attention of the busy bartender to clear up the possible mistake, but he was running back and forth and not even looking my way. "So if you ordered a drink, why aren't there two sitting here, instead of one?"

"Maybe he didn't hear you," he said, as he proceeded to take a big gulp of my rum and Coke.

I don't know if it was his smile, his boldness, or the fact that I hadn't had sex in months, but it was something about this interaction that made me want to keep it going, but it just ended there.

I remained seated next to this guy for what seemed like an hour. I didn't have the nerve or a reason to strike up another conversation after our drink mix up. He made sure to let me know he was still there, with a slight brush of his arm, when my back was turned, or finding some reason to reach in front of me.

That hour seemed to fly by, and my friends were ready to go. I turned to look, as if to let him know that this was the case. He was no longer there. I called the bartender over to let him know I was ready to cash out, and he handed me my card and a note on my receipt with a phone number. "It's been taken care of," he commented.

Sigh. I didn't even get his name.

Journal entry: Jan 27, 2017

Acquaint: to make someone aware or familiar with

I have been counting the days until he will be back. It's been a week since I received his call. Right now, thinking about it has me feeling like a drug addict waiting for my next fix. I can't remember the last time that I felt this anxious about anything in my life. I can't believe that I'm feeling like this. What this man has done to me is crazy.

I remember going back to the bar the next night after we met, and just sitting there looking for him; waiting to see if he was going to show up. After some time, I gave up, and went home. I shot him a text, just in case the number was fake. That was the last time I would see him. When he replied, we went back and forth for several hours.

"How are you?" I asked

"Bored."

"Why?"

"Because I'm by myself."

"Oh."

"Oh? You can't help me with that?"

"How can I help?"

"Well maybe not, if you have to ask. I'll talk to you later."

"No wait."

"For what?"

"I mean I can keep you company."

"How? I mean I don't think that you can help what I need help with."

"And what's that?"

"I need to be touched."

"Oh." I wasn't expecting that.

"See I didn't think that you could help."

"I could help. You may need to guide me just a little. I've never done this before."

"How about I touch you first. I mean when I touched your hand at the bar, I couldn't believe how soft it was. I could only imagine how the rest of you felt."

Sigh "Continue. What would you like to feel next?"

"Well I want to feel how soft those lips are. Then once I've satisfied myself with your tongue, I would move on to your neck, and slowly toward your milk chocolate breast."

That escalated quickly. I didn't even know where to go after that, and really didn't know how to respond.

"You still there?"

'Yes, I'm here."

"We can stop if you want."

"No, keep going. I'm not impressed."

"Oh, so you're not impressed. Maybe I should stop. Or maybe I could softly lick that hard nipple that is showing me that you're more than impressed with what I'm saying."

"Maybe you should, but the other one seems to be getting a little lonely."

"Oh, it is? So, we can't let that happen. But what are you gonna do for me if I make her feel included?"

"Well, If I'm noticing correctly, I see a little man that needs attention."

"First of all, there's nothing little about him, and yes he does want your attention. How about you put those soft lips to work, and you can see how big he can get."

"MMM. That sounds tasty."

We texted all night. I never thought that I would ever come so much from just words. He never touched me, but my imagination took me there with each word. I learned so much about myself that I didn't know. I had never been the type to sext, but some of the things that he prompted me to say or type, even as a grown woman, I definitely wouldn't have been able to show my mother.

Journal entry: Feb 3, 2017

Situationship: A situation that resembles a relationship without the commitment.

I can't think straight. He keeps texting me, telling me that his trip is delayed. I can't stand it anymore. I'm so confused. I don't understand why I'm feeling this way. He has this power over me, and I can't even deny it. It's been over six months since I've seen him, and I can't take it anymore. I want him so much it hurts.

The first time we were together was different. I thought I had been with others before, but he had me in a trance when it was over.

I walked into his apartment. It wasn't anything special, a basic bachelor pad. He was in the kitchen finishing cooking, and offered me some. I had called last minute, but he had made enough for us both. It smelled so good, but I declined. I watch him while he ate. I examined his mouth with every chew. It was so sexy. Since our initial sexting attempt, we had evolved to FaceTime. I knew every curve of his face, and other parts of his sexy body. Just sitting and watching him move was mesmerizing. It had taken a lot of time to get me to the point that I could come over. I had kids, so for him to come see me, was out of the question. I wasn't ready to explain a new face to them.

My heart was beating so fast. Sex was not something I gave freely. I was nervous knowing for sure that this is what was about to happen. He always complimented me, and told me how beautiful I was. It still didn't change the fact that the last man I had let touch me was my ex, over a year before. Now, I sit waiting, as if going into the firing squad. I didn't know if he would change his mind once he saw my naked body in person. I didn't know if the scars that I had on my stomach from C-sections, and former abuse would be a turn off. Although he had seen them, it wasn't up close and personal. I was still so self-conscious about them.

He sat his plate on the small side table next to the couch.

"Hey, you want to step outside with me. I want to smoke this black? You smoke right? I thought I saw you smoking at the bar."

"Yes, but I didn't bring them in with me 'cause I didn't know if you did or not. But sure, they're in my car"

I wasn't sure. I didn't know why it was taking so long to get to the business. I know that seeing him sitting there shirtless was killing me. I was sure of that. I knew that I wanted to either start or get it over with, if it was bad, so I could go home. I knew the waiting was messing with my mind.

We sat on his porch, and talked for about thirty minutes At this point, I was about to change my mind and just leave. My nerves had gotten the best of me. If he thought that us talking and him taking his time, was making it any better, he was sadly mistaken. Plus, it was getting late, and the kids were at home with the sitter. He finally suggested going back in. No sooner than the door closed behind him did he grab me, and pin me against the wall. It took me by surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into a turn on.

His mouth attacked my neck. I could barely catch my breath before his mouth was near my ear.

"You want to know what my tongue feels like?" he whispered.

I felt his words all the way to my toes. I couldn't muster up a simple yes.

He took my hand and guided me to his room. He had to have had a female help decorate because there was more of an effort than anything that we as downstairs. I was only able to take a quick glance around the room, before his hands were once again on a mission. He grabbed me around my waist, one of my feared spots, and lifted my shirt over my head. Just then he dropped to his knees, and began kissing my stomach. I closed my eyes and held my breath praying that he didn't get discussed by what he saw. He specifically concentrated on my scars, planting long kisses on each one. I was terrified. I wanted to stop him, grab my shirt and run, but my feet would not move. Even if I tried, he had a strong grip on me, as if he could read my mind. Using his hold, he finally guided me over to the bed.

"Sit down," he commanded.

I did as I was told. Just as quickly as I did, he changed his mind, as if he had a brilliant idea pop up, and snatched me back to my feet.

He then took over the spot that he had just moments before commanded me to be, his hands never leaving my body. I stood before him baring my most embarrassing parts. He took his fingers and proceeded to trace each scar.

"These are beautiful."

"No they're not."

"Don't speak." He cut me off.

I braced myself for his next touch. I wanted to panic. Then I felt it. His mouth grazed my stomach once again, causing me to jump. His grip prevented me from moving, but I felt like I had lost my footing.

"I want to see more," he ordered. "Can I?" his voice softening.

"Yes." Was all I could muster up?

He proceeded to unbutton the one button that was, at that moment, holding in the reminder of my confidence. My pants fell to the floor. There I stood in bra and panties, while he sat on the bed and admired. "I'm so glad I decided to wear matching under garments." I thought to myself."

"MMM" I heard him growl. I didn't want to look down. I didn't want to make eye contact at all. He was making me face every fear that I had about my body. After my kids, my ex never wanted to look at my body. As a matter of fact, he would comment on how much weight I had gained, and how disgusting the scars were. Now here I stood, waiting for the same, and getting the opposite. I couldn't take it. I felt myself getting moist with anticipation; and then his phone rang. It was important, so he had to go.

Journal entry: Feb 5, 2017

Seductive: Tempting and attractive; Enticing

Got another text saying that he was delayed. I think he's playing games with me at this point. I'm starting to feel like I did that first night. Who gets a phone call and takes it when you're on a date? Well technically we weren't on a date, but still. It was like a gut punch. Then, he had the nerve to ask if I wanted to ride with him. I couldn't. I just had to come home almost in tears. I was thinking everything from; was it planned? To, did my cookie stink? I didn't know what to think. I just knew, at that point, I didn't want anything else to do with him. Once again, he was playing with my emotions.

Thinking about it now, I should have let that first night be the end of it, but he called me a week later, apologized and asked me to come back over. I didn't think that I could do that again, but I also couldn't bring myself to say no. I wanted to see where he would have taken me. I wanted to see what would have come next, had his phone not rang. I just wanted to feel desired again, and that's exactly how he had made me feel. I accepted. An hour later, I was at his door.

He leaned in and kissed me on my forehead. This was another new feeling. My ex was shorter than me, and would have never even thought about trying, even if I was sitting down.

He smelled so good. He had just gotten out of the shower, and only wore a towel. He confessed that he got a quick workout in after we had spoken, and didn't want to be sweaty; at least not before I had gotten there.

This time, there were no downstairs production delays. This time, we went directly to his bedroom; to the same spot we had last seen each other.

"Take your clothes off," he commanded.

I had been looking forward to the same treatment from before, but this was the opposite. I almost turned to leave, and I think he realized it, too. He grabbed my hand.

"Do you heed help?" he asked in the same commanding voice.

"I'm good." I responded confused, at the same time slowly removing my shirt.

"MMM. Yeah, just like that." He leaned back on the bed showing his obvious appreciation of what I was doing. I glanced and had to pause. Was I seeing right? It just kept getting bigger and bigger.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Oh, sorry." Finally removing the final stitch.

He smirked, knowing exactly why I paused. He leaned back against the headboard. "Crawl to me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go to the end of the bed, and crawl to me. I want you on your hands and knees, on the bed."

This was so sexy. My ex was an ass, and he talked to me like I was nothing, but this felt different. I felt so sexy. I wanted to do this. It was over. All demeanor and demureness was out the window. I didn't care what I looked like. I believed that I was sexy, and that was all it took. My heart was beating in my throat. He still wore his towel, but I didn't care. I could see what I was going to be rewarded with, if I did as I was told. I climbed on the end of the bed, and began crawling toward him.

"Stop there." He finally un-wrapped the towel, and let fall flat on the bed.

"Oh My Goodness!" I screamed in my head. Something inside of me felt like it burst into flames. It felt like the heat was turned up ten degrees.

That night, kneeling in front of him in all of his glory, I wasn't thinking. I was longing for his touch. I wanted to take every bit of what he showed me.

"Come to me, beautiful," he whispered.

I continued my journey. His skin glistened with a slight bit of sweat. Maybe I wasn't the only one that was feeling the heat. Our lips touched, and I felt it to my toes. I wanted him. I wanted him more in that moment than, I wanted anything else.

I placed my hand on his smooth chest, so I could see if his breathing matched mine. He was as excited as I was. In one motion, I was on my back. I couldn't object. I didn't even know what was happening.

"God, you're beautiful."

I couldn't respond.

"I want to taste you." He had me mesmerized. I had never had anyone look me in my eyes with such desire. It wasn't just a line. I knew he was with me, but I could also tell he had gone to another place. Then the eye line was broken, and his face disappeared.

"Oh, my!" I breathed. His mouth was amazing. His hands were so soft, and he used both of them very well. "Stop." I finally mustered.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to catch my breath."

"No." He sternly objected as he dove back in.

I had no control over my body. I fought with myself to stop squirming. "You must look crazy. You can't let him see what he's doing to you." I cursed myself. I didn't want him to think that this was my first time, but it felt like it. The Ex never wanted to, not even to return the favor. This man, not only wanted to, he was putting a lot of talent and pride into making sure that it was done to pure satisfaction. And then.... When he knew that I was nice and ready, he allowed me to feel what I had been in awe over. Just thinking about that first feeling is making me have a mini orgasmic flashback. He took it slow, but I was so full. His tongue now filled my mouth, while he filled everything else.

For the last four days, I've read his texts over and over. Each time I got to the "Sorry", my heart sank. These feelings were not supposed to happen. This was supposed to be sex only. It was supposed to be a rebound from the Ex, no feelings, no butterflies; not longing to see him, just sex.

Journal entry: Feb 10, 2017

Comfortable: Providing Physical ease and relaxation

Another text, another cancelation. I'm not going to think about it anymore. I have too many other things going on to stress over whether or not this man was going to show up. I can't focus on work or the kids without something reminding me of him. It's so crazy because I hadn't thought of him in months. I had been with him that first night, and many after, but was able to walk away with not even a second thought. So why are all of these emotions starting? I don't understand. Did I purposely bury what I really felt? Did I walk away because I wanted to or because I wanted him to chase me?

I remember the last night that we were together, like so many others. We had an understanding. We had talked several times while lying in bed, about what we were really doing. It was just sex. But at the same time, I knew everything about him. I knew his kids names and ages, as he did mine. I knew his birthday, what he did in the military. He even broke down and told me why he had to take that phone call the very first time I had come over. He was pledging and his big brother called him.

We had a routine. I came over, we watched TV or listened to music, he may talk to me about his latest business ventures, which there was always a new one. We even talked about some of the other women that he was dealing with. He would always reassure me that it was not on the same level as us, which, I didn't care about. I appreciated the arrangement we shared. I didn't care who he was with, as long as he didn't lie to me about doing it. Then we would have amazing sex, and talk some more. Finally, I would get up, shower, dress and leave. This worked for us. There was no nagging, no labels, no jealousy; it was our situationship. We had become private friends. I didn't even use his real name if I talked to my friends about anything. This had gone on for about a year before one day, I fell asleep.

We had laid together, my body connected to his. In the past, this was fine maybe to catch our breath after going hard or even just while we talked, but this time I fell asleep naked in his arms. I was comfortable. He felt so warm as he held me, and I completely forgot what we had agreed on. I fell asleep and forgot that he was not my man. I fell asleep and dreamt that I was at peace with life. When I woke and realized what had happened, I jumped up, got dressed and left him lying there, alone.

He had called several times, but I ignored each one until the calls finally stopped.

I couldn't help but wonder, was he just returning the favor? All of a sudden, I received all of the texts and calls to say he wanted to see me; offering to meet at a bar, something we hadn't done since we had first met. Then, as if in the same breath, he cancelled.

Journal entry: Feb 11, 2017

Encounter: An unexpected or casual meeting with someone

Ok. I'm just going to stop replying. He said yesterday that he would be here today, now today he's not sure. I can't keep doing this to myself. I had a babysitter for the kids and everything, and then once again he says that his plane was delayed. That could just as well be a lie. I'm done. I can't do it. We weren't even that close. It was just sex. Why is he doing this to me? I'm not going to worry about it. I postponed the sitter until the 14th. The girls and I decided that we are going to have a Single ladies night out for V-Day. Screw him and any other man that would even play with someone's emotions this way.

Actually, I shouldn't even be worried about him. The last time I saw him, I couldn't even look his way. Not only was he in one of the last places I thought I would see him, he was there with a date.

I was having a great time at my first ball. Unfortunately, we had been seated at separate tables, but our brains must have been on the same wavelength. I was talking to the people at the table, when I look around the room, and we lock eyes. I hadn't seen him the entire night. Tee was the only friend that actually knew who he was by name and sight. So when the ball was almost over, she shot me a text, "Do you see who is on the other side of the room? Has he been there the whole time?" she asked, as if she were sitting next to me

"I just saw that. Oh my God, is he coming over here?" I replied in a panic. I looked up just in time to see both Tee coming from her table, and Him coming toward me from his. But he wasn't alone. But he wasn't alone. Luckily she was closer, and managed to take the seat next to me before he arrived. He looked so handsome in his tux. Across the room, he looked like he smelled good, and my instincts were correct. I could smell his cologne as he leaned in to give me a hug. I could barely think. The beautiful female that stood next to him smiling was then introduced, once he decided to pull away. Even her name was nice. I don't even think that I heard anything that he said after her name. I think that I blanked out, that was until she leaned in to hug me, as if we had been friends forever. I didn't know how to respond. I glanced at Tee, with a "WTF? Please save me look."

Before she could, he did it himself, "It was great seeing you. You look beautiful. Have a good night."

"You two as well," I choked out, as they walked away.

That was the last time I had seen him. This last delay made me wonder if he was bring her into town, and was that the real reason he was not in any major rush to see me. I honestly don't know why he picked me to give updates to. Was I the only one he knew or was I in some sort of group message, and wasn't the only one getting these updates? All I know is that he needed to stop. I should just tell him that; just stop texting me, and I'll see him when he gets here. Yeah, I'm going to do that... tomorrow.

Journal entry: Feb 13, 2017

Foreboding: Fearful apprehension

Yep, once again no show. This time, not even a text. I got nothing today or yesterday. I was so busy yesterday that I didn't even get to tell him not to text me. Maybe he read my mind? Maybe he realized that he was wasting time by saying if he was coming and not. Or maybe something happened. Oh my God, I hope nothing happened with the plane. No, he just didn't send me the message. I can't even think like that. He's safe and sound and he's on his way. I have to believe. He's making me crazy.

I think I need to shoot him a question mark or something to see if he responds. Just to make sure that he's ok. If he replies, then I'll know that he's ok. But then I don't want to get my hopes up if he says that he's been delayed again. A question mark won't hurt anything. It's not like I'm asking him where he is or if he's here. Or is it? If he is ok, he'll think that I'm pressed to see him, which I'm not. Of course, I'm not. Or am I? I've been reminiscing for the last month about everything that happened with us from day one. Oh, I hate feeling this way. I'm so confused!!

I can't worry about it. Tomorrow is Valentine's, and I'll just be solo. My friends and I made plans to celebrate our singleness. I have my sitter on deck. I'm going to have fun getting drunk, and if nothing else, forget the past month of this nonsense that he has put me through. Hopefully, he's not in some ditch, but I can't even worry about it.

Journal entry: Feb 14, 2017

Inebriate: The result of becoming intoxicated

Work sucked today. I can't believe how busy we were. By the time I got off, I was more than ready for that drink. Maybe it was a good thing, though. I didn't have the chance to even think about him, let alone look at my phone for a text. That changed as soon as I walked out the door. I glanced down my cell, still nothing.

I guess I'm going to just go out and try to have the best time I can, or maybe get blurred.

Happy Valentine's Day... whoopty freakin' doo!

Journal entry: Feb 15, 2017

Emerge: the process of coming into being or of becoming important

I can't believe I can even remember last night. Too many things went on. I'm still in a fog, but in that fog so many things became clear.

I started pre-gaming with Tee before we actually went to the bar. We met the rest of the group, who by the time we arrived, had moved two tables together, and had pitchers of margaritas flowing. One of the ladies, I found out later, had an inside hook up with the head bartender, so our drinks were on him.

Half way through the night, we decided to move the party to the dance floor. Once again moving tables to ensure that we had the best view, but still having easy access to the floor. It was a good thing too, the songs the DJ decided to spin, kept us up and down.

"Baby, I tried... but I can't un-love you... you know you got your hooks in my soul," blasted through the speakers. The whole table sang at the top of our lungs. I stood and swayed while the words took over my emotions. The past few weeks of ups and downs involving him and his broken promises still couldn't keep him out of my brain. "Feels like I'm dying... slowly all because you... and your love will never let me go!!" I sang, as if I were in concert.

I must have had my eyes closed because I was suddenly startled by a body against mine. I just continued to dance without even trying to see who decided to join me. It was Valentine's Day. I was slight tipsy, so just having that contact for just a song wouldn't hurt anything. That was, until I felt lips against my face.

I turned quickly. To my surprise, there he stood. I didn't know if I was happy to see he was alive, or pissed because he allowed me to have those thoughts.

"Hey, baby," he said in his deep sexy voice. I instantly went back to that place. All fear and anger was gone, at least for now, but I couldn't allow him just to come in like we were going to pick right up. Beside the fact that I didn't know where his head was.

"Can we get out of here?" he whispered.

"No. I'm not leaving with you. We aren't there. I'm here with people and no, just no." I fought every urge that was yelling to just go. "Don't you have a girlfriend? I'm not the same person I use to be. I'm not that girl that didn't care either way. You killed her." I tried to explain over the loud music.

"Can we at least go sit in the car? I want to talk to you."

I looked over at Tee for silence guidance. She nodded her head yes, not even knowing what the question was.

We walked outside.

"What?" I asked, stopping right outside the front door.

"Is it really like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I was determined not to fall for any of his talk. Not this time. I've come way too far to turn back, and his words were not going to be my roadblock.

"I couldn't wait to see you." He placed his hand on my forearm, which I quickly shoot off.

"Really? So you came to a bar?" I finally looked at him. I don't know why I did that. His eyes were hypnotizing. They had always been one of my weaknesses with him. I knew that if I looked into his eyes when he spoke, I could tell if he was lying or not. He had never lied to me, which was the second weakness. The third and biggest happened between the sheets. He had been the only one that knew everything that I liked and knew how I liked it. I was not about to fall into his trap again. I averted my eyes.

"Yes, really. I couldn't get you out of my head after the last time we saw each other. So, I hit your girl Tee up online, so I could surprise you."

"At the ball, when you were with your girlfriend?" I asked. "That's why that heffa was shaking her head like a mad woman when I looked at her." I thought to myself.

"My girlfriend? No that was my sister. Her daughter was a debutante, and she didn't want to go alone, so she invited me."

"And... you went M.I.A for the last two days? Were you even delayed all those times?"

"Yes, between the plane and my apartment not being ready, I was. I made it into town the other day, and have been meeting with the realtor to get my new apartment set up and furnished."

"You had been texting me all that time, and you couldn't have told me that?'

"It was a surprise. Oh... so you were worried about me?" He smirked.

"I mean, yes, who wouldn't have been? I thought your plane had crashed or something. Or that you hooked up with someone, and were playing games with me."

"Oh that's so sweet. So you do care."

I so felt dumb. All this time I thought he had actually given someone, something that we didn't have, a true relationship outside of his apartment. All this time, since it reassured me that I was right in walking away. I wondered why I wasn't good enough to take it there, get the "girlfriend title". All this time, I used that as my fuel not to pick up the phone on those lonely nights. All this time, I was wrong.

"I haven't been with anyone else since I saw you that night," he continued

"Ok, now you're doing too much. I know you. You can't keep it to yourself. You have this wicked need to share with multiple people."

"Wow... so I'm a hoe now?" His laugh was so sexy. I went from hearing it in my dreams, to longing to hear it again. "I'm serious. After I got out of the military, I decided to go back home and see what I could get into. I was honestly mad at you. I wanted you to go with me. I wanted to take you and the girls to meet my mom."

"We haven't even gone on a date."

"That was your fault. The impression that you gave me was, you just wanted to keep it casual, so I gave you what you wanted. I would have given you anything that you wanted. I felt something with you that I hadn't felt before, comfortable."

Oh that word!! Comfortable.

I allowed him to continue. "I have never told any female that I was "casual" with, about my kids. That was none of their business. I told you about other women, even though there weren't any at the time, so you would tell me to stop. You never did. I told you about all of my favorite things. If it was casual, that's what it would have been - in, handle business and out. The night you fell asleep in my arms I thought, no I hoped that was the turning point for us. Then you were gone, and I didn't hear from you. Yes, I'm not going to lie, I never have to you. I did sleep with women after that, but the night I saw you again, I realized that not one of those women came close to what I felt. I was fooling myself to think that they would." He poured his heart out.

"What am I supposed to say? How was I supposed to know that you were catching feeling, when all I could imagine was you with someone else?"

"I told you, that was for you. After a while, I thought it was a turn on for you or something. Anyone else would have told me to shut up or s-s-something."

I could tell he was getting agitated. He had told me about his speech impediment that only came out when he was frustrated. I could tell that he was trying to hide it, but he stuttered just a bit. It was my turn to reassure him. I placed my hand on his arm to calm him. He took a deep breath.

"I know that we aren't going to make everything right tonight, but I would like to just hang out with you and your friends; if it's not a problem. Will you be my Valentine?"

He looked so sweet. He reminded me of a 3rd grader asking his crush to be his Valentine. It was kinda cute. I had to ask myself, "Would I be weak if I gave him a break? What would be the harm in him just hanging out with us and just having fun? It's the night of love and even if it's just for pretend. It wouldn't leave the bar, right?"

We danced most of the night. Even when I wanted to sit, he held me in his arms. He wanted everyone to know that we were together; planting kisses on my face and neck, and playful, romantic dips when dancing.

"That was some conversation you two must have had," Tee asked when we finally made it back to the table, and I sent him to the bar. I couldn't even take another drink. Water was the only thing that I wanted in my mouth when I sat down. My rest lasted two gulps, and we were back on the floor.

"It's a quarter after 1 and I'm all alone, but I need you now." He mouthed the words to the Lady Antebellum song to me. "Oh, baby, I need you now..."

As I sit and reminisce over my night, I don't know if I made the right decisions, but I do know that I had fun. I also know that the man, who is fast asleep on my couch right now, because he didn't want me to think that he came over for sex, is worth giving another chance. We are starting off right this time. We are taking the girls to the zoo later. I guess I have to see if he really meant what he said, once he sees the girls in action.

2018 (C) Keinya Graves

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Keinya Graves

Keinya Graves is the mother of three very beautiful young adults. Every day she sees them push to fulfill their dreams and in return they inspire the same for her. She's been writing for 12 years and dabbles in photography. She is that crazy basketball mom and loves every minute of it.

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Facebook: <http://facebook.com/Keinyasbookclubandcarllouphotography>

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# His Secret Pawn

by

Cam Johns

Finding that once in a lifetime love is difficult, to say the least. Try losing that love unexpectedly, or better yet having it taken from you. That was me, the story of my life it seems. Just as I was putting myself back together after his murder, I found myself face to face with another obstacle; a "catch-22" that disguised himself behind enlivening brown eyes that awakened me in places that have been asleep for years. The sound of his voice, the movement in his swag, and his sarcastic undertones incinerated my wall of desire. So much so that my panties were ready to hit the floor hours after our first encounter.

However, nothing is what it seems. A lesson I learned the hard way, unfortunately. Now that I find myself placed in the middle of something unexpected, I've come to realize you never know who's watching you.

Photo Courtesy of @jamespenniephotography

Part One

Love can form in many ways. Sometimes it happens with time, and then there's that other way I've never had the pleasure of experiencing - at first sight. I don't want to say it, but for a long time I thought that was a crock of shit. Finally, there is the shade of love that formed out of the gutter where pain and sorrow develop. It's unexpected...but needed...better yet, craved. I think that's where my love formed...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

After an exhausting day at work, I decide to grab a drink at the bar down the street. It's not like I have anyone to go home to, and I need to relax a bit. Entering the bar, now leaving the brightness of outside and into the darker, eloquent ambience, I feel at ease. Even though this location is constantly overrun with the well-off and arrogant, I love the selection of smooth jazz that serenades softly in the background. Therefore, I try my best to ignore egotistical advances, and the lewd comments that spew from their drunken mouths.

Sitting at the bar taking a sip of my apple martini, I scan the room taking in the laughter and sounds of the carefree enjoying the company of their significant others or friends. Noticing all the handsome smiles guided in my direction gives me a little excitement. After all, I am a woman, and I have been told I need to give men a chance, if I ever expect to get laid again. Honestly, my friends may be right. I am thirty, and single as hell. Crossing my legs and letting my skirt raise just enough to show some thigh, I eye the tall impressive chocolate Adonis across the room. I watch him gazing at me, as I swing my ponytail to the other side. Did I really just do that? He seems to be here alone as well, and most important not wearing a wedding ring. Unlike some women, that actually matters to me.

After downing a shot of what looks like whiskey, he saunters my way never losing eye contact. Of course, I dare not look away. After all, I wouldn't want him to think he has the upper hand. I admire his strong stature, framed within his perfectly tailored navy-blue suit, towering over me at six feet or more...definitely fuck me potential. He stands somewhat behind me because there are no seats beside me. I turn to face him, seductively switching my crossed leg.

"I wasn't gonna wait much longer," I say smiling slightly.

He chuckles. "I certainly wasn't gonna let someone else catch your attention."

"So, let someone...is that right?" I say, taking another sip of my martini.

"That's right. I have to know why you're here alone."

"If that's a way of asking if I'm single...I am." I raise my left hand to show of my bare ring finger. Someone vacates the seat beside me, and he quickly takes it.

"Good...then I have you to myself for a bit." He smiles, leaning in close. The smell of his cologne captivates me, sending a scintillating chill through my excited body.

"A bit...depends on how well you do." He laughs out loud, causing me to giggle. God, his teeth are so white. That's sexy as hell!

"Oh, how well I do?"

"That's right, handsome. You need more than looks to keep my attention."

"And how exactly are you gonna keep mine?"

Okay, so he can keep up with me. I like that. I lean in closer, so close any on-looker would think we're about to offer a free show.

"I think I can handle that." I respond, letting my hand follow the length of his tie. His intriguing brown eyes roam my body; his anticipation obvious.... or nerves. My womanhood, maintaining dominance over our intimate encounter, refuses to let him have the upper hand.

"I'm sure you can." We gaze through each other, no doubt imagining our naked bodies entangled, playing out our salacious desires...at least I am. Snap out of it girl, we haven't even exchanged names. I abruptly back away from him, taking another sip.

"Veronica," I say, extending my hand.

"Luke," he responds, placing my hand between both of his. His caress pulsates through me, which makes me gradually remove my hand. No one has ever made me feel this way...so soon. I really need to get screwed. "You're a very captivating woman, Veronica," he says, grabbing the bartender's attention to order a Whiskey Sour. I watch him take a sip before reverting his welcomed attention back to me. "So, tell me more about yourself."

"That could take all night," I say, giggling.

"I hope so," he replies taking another sip.

Oh god! I can already tell he's going to have my panties off soon.

We spend the next two hours talking about our work and family lives. He tells me he's a financial advisor about to start his own firm, married once and no children. I of course, pressure him into telling me more about his marriage, wanting to know why it ended. Pretty understandable question, I think. I find myself telling him entirely too much about myself. Something I never usually do. For some reason I even mention my deepest secret, something I haven't talked about in years...the murder of my ex. Mentioning him brings up emotions I thought I've suppressed, but talking to Luke somehow eases my sorrow. Not sure how he's able to do that, but his paralyzing charm possesses me easily. The more exciting our conversation becomes, the more enticed I feel. There's nothing sexier than the confidence of a strong attractive man. I need a break.

"Excuse me a moment, Luke," I say, touching his hand then head toward the restrooms, hoping I've hidden my lewd thoughts. Luckily, at this time most of the after-work crowd has gone, and there's no line in the bathroom...or anyone in here for that matter. I stand in the mirror, staring at myself as women do. I adjust my ponytail making sure my hair is flat, and run my hands down my clothes picking at the shape of my body.

"Certainly, you know you're beautiful." I hear Luke's voice, never hearing the door open.

Was I that preoccupied mocking my imperfections?

"You do know this is the ladies room," I joke, not wanting to face him. He walks behind me standing close, but not touching me. We stare at each other through the mirror silently, but our yearning loins speak loud enough for the both of us. He inches closer and places his hands on the sink at either side of me. Our magnetic energy travels between our bodies, making the need for us to touch stronger.

"Feel that?" He asks.

Oh, I definitely do. I look away from him, needing him to give me space...or at least my brain does.

"Don't get all shy now," he whispers. He leans in softly, kissing my collarbone, and continuing up toward my ear.

Why am I letting him do this...and in here? Anyone can walk through those doors.

My body won't let me resist him, as I lay my head back against his shoulder, giving into his ravenous seduction. He turns me quickly and lifts me onto the counter in one swift motion. God, I've never been so happy to be in a nice place with a very clean bathroom. He stares through me, his brown eyes wanton as he wraps my legs around his waist. Why must I be wearing a skirt right now? I question my choice of wardrobe, as I feel his shaft slightly pulsating against my soaked underwear. Leaning me back and pulling my pelvis against his, I feel his erection growing against my warmth. He kisses me unhurried, grinding his dick against my pussy, making me feel provocatively consumed.

Am I really going to let him fuck me here? "We-can't-do-this-here!" I blurt out in one breath as he continues to kiss me.

He stops suddenly, still steadily grinding against me as he eyes me passionately. "I'm fucking you tonight."

Now, I should be getting the hell out of there. We barely know each other, and he's already taking ownership. Instead, I'm imagining him devouring my body...and I can't wait.

"Your place?" I say out of breath.

He doesn't answer me. He just lifts me down, fixes our clothes, and drags me from the bathroom, leading me straight out the bar to his car.

"What about my car?" I giggle.

"We'll worry about that later...don't need you changing your mind."

What the fuck am I doing? I just met this guy.

He quickly puts me in his black Infiniti, and we drive in silence. He steals enticing glances, as he grabs at my inner thigh. My warmth is still ready and wet, as he lets his pinky graze my moist, lace panties. We don't seem to drive for long, but his home is in the middle of nowhere. Should I be worried? I try to dispel my concern. Instead, I admire his large house as he pulls into the garage, parking quickly. I take my time getting out as he waits patiently holding open the car door.

Walking into the foyer, I remove my shoes as he takes off his suit jacket and tie. I follow him into the kitchen, where he grabs two glasses and a wine bottle placing them on the counter. As he pours the wine, I take the opportunity to look around in search of someplace comfortable to sit. Finding my way to the living room, I sit on the long white leather couch, and stare through the skylight in the high ceiling. It's so beautiful here.

"Here you go," he says, handing me a glass. "I'll be right back."

I smile as he walks away, no doubt wanting to get out of that suit. I'm not going to lie; I thought he'd be fucking the shit out of me by now. I drink the wine quicker than I should, realizing my nerves have returned. It doesn't take long for those nerves to turn my stomach...or so I thought. I start to feel woozy and dizzy.

What the hell is going on? I look at my now empty glass, and fall back against the couch. Did I drink too much?

Finally, Luke returns, still in his suit pants and shirt un-tucked.

"Luke...I'm not feel-well...I-"I can't find the words.

"Don't you know better than to go home with strangers?"

Everything goes dark.

Part Two

I wake the next morning with a pounding headache. Casually, I blink in the beams of light from the sun that are torturing me through the large floor to ceiling windows. As I turn around, taking in my unfamiliar surroundings, I notice I'm lying in a large empty bed in a desolate white room. Seriously, there's nothing in here but the bed.

"Oh shit!" I shout out as tiny specs of memory return.

The last thing I remember him saying was, don't you know better than to go home with strangers?

"Oh shit! I'm 'bout to die!" I bellow, jumping from the bed. I rush to the door furthest from the bed first, pulling and twisting the doorknob frantically... but it won't budge. My heart pounds rapidly. Not knowing what to do, I race for the remaining door. It opens.

"Calm down, Ronnie." A nickname my ex used to call me. I take a breath before stepping out into the hall. You would think in my situation, I would be trapped in some dark dungeon-like hole, but I'm not. It's quite a nice home, but as I walk the hall there are darkened shapes on the wall where pictures used to be...obviously there's something I don't need to know. As I pass doors of the hall, I jiggle the door knobs to see which of them unlocks but no luck.

Finally, I find myself back where I'm familiar. The living room...and the front door. Of course, I run for the door, ready to get out of captivity, but it's locked from the inside. "Shit!" I whisper, hoping he doesn't know I'm trying to escape his quaint fortress. Suddenly, I hear humming and the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. He's in there, relaxed as if he doesn't have a captive in his home. Staring out the window, I realize there's nowhere to go...we're amidst isolated woods. I stare out the front windows, realizing the nearest neighbor is so far away, if I did make it out of here, he would for sure catch me. I do notice my car now parked in his driveway, however. He can't possibly consider letting me live after this, he must have taken my car in case someone comes looking.

I hesitantly walk toward the kitchen scared shitless, tugging at the large T-shirt I just realized he put me in. Holy crap! He's seen me naked! Oh my god! I almost fucked him in the bar bathroom. See, that's why you don't listen to your friends...now I'm kidnapped.

"Are you gonna come in here? Or just lurk around?" he says from the kitchen.

My body shivers not wanting to be anywhere near him. If he wanted me dead, I would be. Take a breath, I coach myself.

I slowly step into the kitchen with my head down because I´m scared to look at him. He places a plate of food down on the table and pulls out a chair. He doesn't wait for me to sit. Instead, he goes to the opposite side and takes his own seat before pouring two glasses of orange juice.

I finally get up the strength to look at him as he sits back in his seat, and gestures for me to do the same. The same delightful smile from yesterday greets me, but today I fear him. Those pearly white teeth just don't have the same effect. I take the seat, seeing he's given me two strips of turkey bacon and scrambled eggs with lots of cheese. That, plus the orange juice, is my constant morning meal.

How does he know? I find myself unable to breathe as the realization hits-- he's been stalking me.

"We'll talk after you eat," he announces, as if he knows I know he's been watching me.

Weighing my options, I decide it's best for me not to piss him off, and just eat.

After eating as much as I could, he grabs our dishes and cleans up while I just sit here, wondering if I'll ever see anyone I love again. I want to know why I'm here. How long he's been watching me? Mostly, is he going to get rid of me? "Why am I here?" I courageously blurt out. After I say it, I immediately wish I hadn't.

He turns to face me, drying his big hands on a kitchen towel, and stares at me with those brown eyes that enamored me...tricked me...last night."In due time," he says.

He holds out his hand expecting me to take it, but I'm just too disgusted to touch him. I feel so...betrayed. Which is ridiculous considering I don't know this guy...I'm the one that chose to come here. Or rather my inflamed loins chose for me.

"I'm not gonna´ hurt you, Veronica," he says somberly.

For some odd reason, I actually believe him. The fact that he's taken me, drugged me, and is keeping me here has not changed that compelling urge to trust him. I take his hand and he leads me to a different room...with furniture.

"You may shower here," he says, walking me to the bathroom. "Some clothes in there." He points to the closet opposite the bed and walks out closing the bedroom door.

Why is he treating me like an expected visitor? Of course, I go through the dresser drawers and nightstands trying to find anything about him or his family, but there's nothing. Dammit. There's no use. I contemplate finding something to break the glass in these tall ass windows but that would make too much noise. I wouldn't get very far at all...and I don't know where I am. Therefore, doing what he has asked will be best.

I quickly shower wanting to get answers to my questions, and feeling obviously uneasy in my captive's home. However, going into the closet he pointed to earlier only infuriates me further. "He's been to my house?" I whisper. I step into the walk-in closet only to find all of my own clothes, shoes and even purses. What the fuck? "Son of a bitch!" I shout too loud. He certainly heard me and I honestly don't care at this point. The fear that paralyzed me has turned to venomous rage. I grab a pair of stretch pants and a large sweatshirt from the closet, and get dressed quickly. Enraged, I march down the hall to find Luke sitting on the couch with the newspaper covering his face.

"Yes...I've been to your home," he answers my unasked question. He folds the paper, placing it down on the coffee table before standing in front of me with his hands folded behind him. For some reason he smiles at me as if this is a goddamn game.

"Okay...so you're mad." He can't be serious...there is something mentally wrong with him. I've got to get the heck out of here. "Luke...why am I here?" I ask, trying to remain calm.

"For your protection." My protection? There's nothing going on in my life that I would need guarding from. I lead a simplistic, drama-free life for the most part.

"You're gonna have to elaborate," I say confused.

"Have a seat." He points to the cold, leather couch.

I do as I'm told. Now, somewhat sure he's not going to kill me at least.

He sits beside me and hands me the large envelope that was on the coffee table. "Open it."

Oh god, the last time he gave me something I was knocked unconscious. I suspiciously open the filled manila package, and pull out a large packet clipped together. When I turn it over, there is a picture at the top that's covered by a large black binder clip. However, I could see the name on the file clear as day...Quinton "Q" Lathan. Oh god. Just to be sure, I remove the clip that's hiding the photo...it's him. My heart starts racing as I slowly glance back at Luke.

"Why do you have this? Who are you?" I whisper. He grows quiet and visibly agitated. I should be the one feeling uneasy. He has a folder with information on the murder of my ex-boyfriend...well fiance. I stand dropping the papers to the floor, feeling the urge to erupt into a crying fit. "Answer me dammit!" I yell, stomping my foot like an errant child.

"He's my brother!" he shouts.

Part Three

I stand there aghast, unable to accept his absurd revelation as the truth. Quinton had never mentioned a brother to me. In fact, he claimed he had no remaining family members. I rather believe this kidnapper before me is the liar...not someone I trusted for years. "You're a goddamn liar!" I yell, getting in his face. It's unnerving how willful I've become dealing with this obvious con artist. He lifts his hands over his face and takes a deep breath, no doubt losing his patience with me. That should be a cue to back off, but of course my big ass mouth just pushes him further. "Hello! What the fuck is going on?" He drops his hands, placing them in his pockets. He impatiently stares at me, taking a few steps forward.

"Your smart mouth was cute when I was gonna fuck you last night...but don't push it."

Should that have turned me on? There's something wrong with me. What if he is telling the truth? I take a deep breath before sitting back down on the couch and picking the papers up from the floor. I should at least look through everything before I chew him out any further. The case file on Quinton's murder included everything from photos to suspects. Considering I was very involved with the case until it began to take over my life, none of this shocked me.

"Come with me."

Without hesitation, I follow him toward the back of the house and into a bedroom that was locked before. I walk in and immediately notice the Samuel L. Jackson Shaft poster on the wall. I laugh to myself finding it ridiculous.

"I guess he didn't tell you he was a fan."

He? Is this Quinton's room? "This was his room?" I ask, now reluctant to enter further. It´s as if I'm invading his privacy.

Luke nods, waving me in. I scan the photos of a teenage Quinton playing football and him and Luke...his brother. On the bed were the photos that Luke removed from the wall. Quinton's smile is displayed everywhere. The same smile I've missed for years. He just seems so free-spirited and at ease. Something I didn't get to see often. Now I know why. I could always tell there was something he wasn't telling me; I just figured he would let me in when he was ready. None of his secrets kept me from wanting to spend my life with him.

Hold the fuck up!

"You're such an asshole!" I shout suddenly not sure why I've just realized this.

He turns to face me. Anger and confusion written all over his face. "Yo, what the fuck did I just tell you?" He yanks my arm, pulling me into him. The closeness radiates between our bodies. I pull away from him wanting to break the tension.

"You knew who I was and you still tried to fuck me."

He stands straight, putting his hands back in his pockets and takes a deep calming breath, in order to cool his heightened temper before answering me."We shouldn't talk about that now." He almost whispers.

Why not? "Well I think we should." I cross my arms, tap my foot, and wait for an appropriate reason for his deceit.

"Too bad...I think it's more important to tell you why you're in danger."

Yes...he did say that, didn't he?

He takes my hand, basically dragging me back to the living room, where I sit and look through the file once again. There must be something I missed before.

"I already know about all this...why am I here?" I ask quietly. He sits beside me, taking my hand into his. His touch not only didn't repulse me, but he gazes with the same enamored scrutiny his brother used. He is telling the truth. I stare at his facial features now recognizing the subtle similarities. How did I not see the relation before now?

"There's something he didn't get a chance to tell you before he died."

I take a breath, nudging for him to continue.

"He was an undercover cop."

A cop? Why would he lie about that?

"He obviously couldn't tell you, and he needed to keep you and that separate." Which is understandable. Still doesn't tell me why I'm in danger. "I've been following the person I think killed him...which led me to you."

"How?" I ask confused.

"He's been following you."

What! "Luke, I don't understand. Why? I don't know shit!" I say frantically, but him holding my hand placates me.

"You don't know what you know." He turns so he's completely facing me, and grabs my other hand in his. "Do you mind telling me about that night?" Maybe there is something. I've gone over this repeatedly with the cops. I don't see how he would see anything different. "Just tell me."

I look down at our entwined hands not wanting to go through this again...but I have to. I begin with my memory of Quinton and my last night together.

* * *

That morning I wake up alone in the bed. Why is he up so early? It's only five thirty. He's rarely here, now I have to worry about him sneaking around too. Still groggy, I slide from the bed, wipe my eyes and slide on my slippers. The door to the bedroom is open. I walk into the living room without him hearing me. He's on the phone, so I step quietly trying to eavesdrop.

I'm telling her...I can't talk about that now...Terrence, I'll meet you in a few...Don't fuckin' piss me off and keep me waiting. He hangs up.

Tell me what? I watch him relax, now slumped on the couch. Something's clearly bothering him, and it has him anxious. "Sneaking off?" I ask, standing in front of him.

He jumps up as if he were caught in a lie. I eye him suspiciously wanting to know what's going on and why he is so jumpy. But I know better than to ask, considering he never answers me. He's clearly hiding something.

"I have to go," he says quietly. Of course you do.

"Just get the hell outta here," I say, throwing my hands up and walking away. He grabs my arm quickly pulling me back to him. Snatching it back, I push away from him pressing against his bare chest. "Just stop." I hold my hands up. We've been together over a year, and I think I've earned the truth. What accountant you know sneaks around like this...going off to meetings in the early morning and late nights?

"C'mon Ronnie...don't be mad." There's no way I'm looking him in the eye. He has a way of smiling with his fuck me eyes, telepathically dropping my panties...not that I'm wearing any. He chuckles, inching closer without touching me. "That shit's not gonna work." He warns, but I don't respond. Uncontrollably, my eyes survey his muscular body as he stands before me in his boxers. Obviously, he knows I'm admiring his chocolate physique because he begins to flex instantly turning me on. I hate he knows how to get his way.

"Don't you have somewhere more important to be?" I snap, now looking him in the eye. He silently gazes through me, and then begins to use his body to back me up against the wall. His hands remain balled into a fist, I guess annoyed at my response. Placing his hands on the wall above my head, he leans down and kisses me gently. I don't resist him as he presses his body against mine, lifting my leg. I feel his length growing, stroking at my pussy. "There's nothing more important than you," he says breathy, then lifts me to his waist before dropping his pants.

* * *

"Wo! Wo! Wo goddammit!" Luke says, interrupting my recollection. "Skip that shit." I giggle uncomfortably as he adjusts in the couch releasing my hands finally.

"Okay..."

"Did he say anything to you before he left? Get to the point." He snaps a bit. Is he jealous?

I think a bit before continuing with the memory.

* * *

Lying in bed, sweaty and out of breath, he caresses my hair as I lie on his chest. "There's a lot I need to tell you," he admits.

"I know. I'm ready to hear it," I whisper. I feel his chest lift as he takes a deep breath.

"After tonight, I can tell you everything...but I have to go." He kisses me on the forehead, and slides off the bed to dress.

"Oh yes...to meet this Terrance person," I say, revealing that I was eavesdropping.

He faces me, pulling his shirt over his head before leaning over me. He kisses me slowly, as I wrap my arms around his neck.

If I only knew that would be the last time.

"Yes...Terrance. I'll be back tonight. Love you." I smile back, as I always do, and watch him leave the room.

* * *

"I'm not sure why I hadn't mentioned that name to the detective...Do you know Terrance?" I ask Luke who is now standing. The agitation is visibly coursing through his body, as he paces the floor with his hands in a fist. Finally, he stands in front of me with his arms crossed.

"Veronica...Terrance has been following you."

Finale

I sit there unable to move. Following me? I watch as Luke paces the floor in front of me. His concern finds its way to me. Seeing him so anxious causes my nerves to return. Maybe Luke wasn't the stalker I should be worried about. What would he want from me after all this time? It's been years since Quinton's death. There's nothing I could remember before, otherwise I would have told the cops immediately.

"I don't understand. Luke, why would this guy be following me suddenly?" My eyes begin to fill with tears as all the angst from the past hours, combined with the memories of Quinton, come back to me. We were going to be married and he was stolen from me. Granted, there were some obvious secrets that I needed to know, it just never changed how I felt about him.

Luke finally stops pacing, and kneels in front of me. He places his pointer finger beneath my chin to lift my head. He stares at me with those worried, endearing brown eyes. His hand finds its way down my cheek as I close my eyes, letting the tears fall. "I won't let anything happen to you," he says, wiping the tears from my face. For some reason, I believe that.

I nod my head, accepting his confession.

He stands abruptly, pulling me up with him, and keeping my hands against his chest. "Do you trust me?"

I giggle. "I think trust is relative at this point."

He chuckles. "I'm serious...do you?" he says quietly.

I glance up at him. Obviously, he wants me to give in without a fight. Not my strong suit. "Ok. Yes, I trust you." I reluctantly admit.

He smiles wide before knocking me back down to the couch, and sitting beside me. "Good, 'because I have a plan...a plan you won't like."

Is that really a surprise though? I haven't liked any of this so-called plan of his thus far. He uses my raging hormones against me to get me here - to the middle of nowhere - he drugs me, tells me he was almost my brother-in-law, and last that Quinton's possible killer has been following me for God knows how long. Yeah...he's great at plans. I can't wait to hear this bull shit.

"Do I dare ask what this plan is?" I ask, trying not to laugh. However, once he notices I'm laughing at him, his deathly, don't fuck with me stare refocuses me. Ok, he's serious. "I'm listening."

"I should probably start by telling you Quinton didn't lie to you on purpose. Like I said, he was under cover for most of your relationship. He couldn't very well bring you around his family...he wasn't even supposed to start a relationship." He turns to face me. "But after I saw you, I knew why he did." He takes a moment to stare me down, as he lets his arousal show through his sweat pants.

I sense his desire to lean in and kiss me, and amazingly it wouldn't be unwarranted. I think I want his lips against mine as much as he does. What the hell is wrong with me?

He looks away abruptly, breaking our longing. "Ummm...where was I?" He stands, and then walks to the other side of the coffee table, putting distance between us. "After his death, the cops thought it would be best not to tell you Q was undercover. They just couldn't figure out who killed him and why...so there was no need to put you in danger.

"Yes, ignorance is bliss, as they say." He smiles standing still running his finger across his lip. Why is that turning me on?

"I guess." He strides back over to the couch and sits beside me, taking my hands in his. "I just didn't want to make things worse for you. So, I kept my distance. I thought it would be best for me to let the cops handle it. I mean, I'm just a businessman. What do I know?" He looks so sincere, as if that was his apology for keeping his brother's secrets. Which is not his fault. He thought he was doing the right thing.

I turn my body to face him, gripping his hands tighter. "I understand Luke. You did what you had to, not only because it was what your brother would have wanted, but to make sure nothing happened to me." I take a moment to let him take himself off the hook he has himself dangling on. He can't possibly believe I would hold that against him. He sits there silently, just staring at me with this appetizing glare. Oh no. I try to turn from him quickly, but he pushes me on my back, and before you know it, he's hovering over me. He stares down at me with more than just a carnivorous gaze. Devotion is hiding behind those piercing brown eyes, and is encasing me within the passion for me he developed while he was protecting me. My body is glued against the couch as if I'm suffering sleep paralysis. However, I'm not overcome with fear of him harming me; it's my own trepidation of letting someone in again. My breathing becomes heavier as I remember how he took control of my body so readily last night, and I let him. Not because I was just horny as hell, but because there was something pulling me toward him. My proclaiming desire for us to be entwined amongst each other deafening....and it's happening again right now. In this moment as he gazes down at me. He leans in closer, his nose rubbing against mine as he caresses my lips with his.

"I'm not sure I can keep my hands off you any longer," he whispers.

"So don't." The words just come out.

He drops his full weight on me, and kisses me softly. I follow the slow movements of his lips as he uses his knees to slowly spread my legs, pressing his erection against me. As I cross my arms behind his neck, he scoops his hands beneath me, gripping my ass so he can grind into me harder. He sneaks his tongue in my mouth, deepening our kiss as I wrap my legs around his waist, accepting our wanting. It's been years since I've let anyone touch me like this, or take control of my body. Knowing exactly what I need. He lifts us slowly, before standing to his feet, and begins walking toward the back of the house. Never leaving my lips.

Three hard knocks at the door interrupt us.

"Shit!" he barely whispers. "I'm sorry, I should have told you this first."

"What?" I stare down at him still confused. He slowly slides me down to stand.

"Listen...don't freak out...just relax." What the fuck?

"Luke, what's going on?"

"Shhh!" He tries to quiet me by putting his finger on my mouth. "This was the only way."

Suddenly, I'm more scared than I was when I thought he was a psycho. He goes to his phone on the coffee table. I see him select Detective McKinley's contact, and then put the phone to his ear.

"He's here.... I know.... I'm putting the phone down...I know what to do." I only hear Luke's part of the conversation.

"Luke, I'm tired of being in the dark. Tell me what's going on. Who's here?" I ask frantically, as he grabs my hand and sits me on the couch.

"I don't have time to explain, but Quinton was investigating one of the police departments. There was a group of rogue officers that would rob drug dealers and not turn in all confiscated cash. They believed Terrance was the leader, but couldn't prove it. And until today, no one but you knew he was meeting Terrance that night."

There are three more knocks at the door. Dammit.

"Gimme a minute!" Luke shouts. "Look, I watched Terrance put a tracker under your car.... I had to see this through. I knew once he saw you come here, to Quinton's place, he would assume you knew everything."

"You used me as bait?" I asked shocked.

"Veronica. I had to...I'm sorry. There's a lot you don't know. I just need him to confess on tape." He stands quickly and heads to the door, leaving me dazed and confused.

As Luke opens the door, I try to look around him to see who it is, but his large stature blocks me. I watch as Luke raises his hands slowly to the air and takes small steps backwards. Oh, that can't be good. As Luke steps further back into the living room, the person at the door becomes slowly visible. He's slightly shorter than Luke, dark hair, ivory skin, but nothing is more daunting than what I see next.

He takes a terrorizing glimpse at me just as the gun he has pointed at Luke's chest becomes visible. I stand abruptly in shock, standing stationary not wanting to budge. I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me. Luke turns his head to glance at me. His brown eyes have no ounce of concern, relaxing me immediately. How can he be so stealth with a gun pointed at him?

"It's okay." Luke tries to reassure me.

"No, the fuck it isn't." The stranger says. Well, stranger to me anyway. "I knew you were a fucking rat! Just like that asshole. And you see what happened to him."

Oh fuck. "Terrance?" I whisper. I've never seen him before.

"I knew that bitch knew about me!" Terrance shouts, removing the gun from Luke's direction and pointing it at me. I cower back down to a seated position on the couch, paralyzed.

"Yo! What the hell is your problem?" Luke says, stepping in front of Terrance.

"Who the fuck you tell about our lil' operation?" Terrance asks Luke.

"Nobody knows about shit!"

"Oh, so you just happen to be fucking his bitch!"

"Watching your goddamn mouth!" Luke says, ignoring the gun. Finally, his hands down and balls his fists. Is he nuts? Terrance just stares, shocked at Luke's response as if he just had some sort of revelation.

"Yeah...you're a rat. You almost had me too. Glad I put that tracker under this bitch's car! Neither of you are leaving here alive." He lifts the gun to Luke's head, and I don't know what came over me, but unfound courage rages through me.

"No! What do you want? I don't know anything!" I stand abruptly.

Terrance averts his attention to me, lowering the gun. "Step back," he tells Luke.

As Luke steps back, Terrance follows but stops just as Luke reaches me.

"Don't fuck with me." Terrance still points the gun at us. "You knew my name, that night I shot your boyfriend he told me he was going to tell you about our business...and then that asshole had the nerve to show up late. I was gonna kill him anyway, but that just made me more pissed. Honestly, I was gonna kill you too, but the cops beat me there! Once I realized you weren't spilling the beans, I just kept my distance."

"You-killed-Quinton?" I whisper as the tears start to fall from my face. Hearing him say the words was much more effective than having Luke imply them....and he was going to kill me too.

"Of course, I did. I couldn't have him fucking up my money."

Before I know it, an older white male, I immediately recognize barges through the door, momentarily distracting Terrance just long enough for Luke to knock the gun from his hand. Luke hits Terrance so hard you hear the connection his fist makes with Terrance's chin. Terrance falls to the floor, and Luke follows ready to pound on him more. Lucky for Terrance, the detective that's been handling Quinton's case steps between them. More officers stumble in the door, and cuff Terrance right away.

"Veronica." Detective McKinley greets me, shaking my hand. "Thanks for helping with this. Of course, I didn't know that you were unaware of it." He raises his eyebrow at Luke who just shrugs his shoulders.

"I'm just glad everything worked out, McKinley."

"I think we've dealt with enough tonight. Debrief tomorrow?" Luke says as he shakes the detective's hand.

"First thing," the detective demands. Luke nods in agreement.

The detective smiles at me before leaving, and all the chaos of the last daunting fifteen minutes follow. I turn to Luke who also faces me with his hands in his pockets, expecting a tongue lashing, no doubt. I could do that, express how angry I am that he used me as a pawn in his chess game, but I stare at his tender brown eyes. I can't help but think of something else I would much rather do. Besides, he just stepped in front of a gun for me.

"Just one question," I ask.

"Listening," he says with the sexiest, hurry up so we can get back to business smile.

"What was your plan had I not stopped him?"

"Baby, you've been my plan since the first time I saw you." He picks me up swiftly, squeezing at my ass cheeks. "Now, where were we?" He kisses me hard, as he walks us towards the back of the house like that ordeal never happened.

What can I say? LOVE IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT. Luke just happens to be my second chance at it. That's my shade of love. The one that starts in the dirt, and blossoms into a new beginning.

2018 (C) Cam Johns

Cam Johns

Cam Johns is labeled as an Erotic Suspense author. She writes stories about kickass heroines, and their sexy alpha-males with very steamy scenes. She started with just writing poems, which turned into short stories, and then what do you know...a whole book!

She's no genius, but she feels you might enjoy some of the things she decided to put on paper. Some may think, "My goodness she's got a foul mouth!" Especially anyone that knows her, but what can she say, she must've been a sailor in a past life!

Her first published book is an erotic romance based on the life of Karisma Washington. The first of the Arousing Trilogy, that of course, leaves you hanging onto what happens next. Beyond it being a sexy tale of Karisma finding true love unexpectedly, she will also come to find some truth in the murder of her father.

Follow Cam on Social Media:

Facebook: <http://facebook.com/authorcamjohns>

FB Reader Group: Cam's Corner

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/Camj83>

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/author_cam_johns>

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# Neurotic Behavior

(Voices Unheard A lesson in self-love)

by

Candis Johnson

I seem to function best

In the dead of night

When, corpses of regret

Are supposed to be lying dormant

Instead, the hold hands

Frolicking with all my erratic idiosyncrasies

At night, while

The rest of the world sleeps

I am made whole

A sacrificial lamb

Making peace with my grief

Poetry, has a way of enticing me

While everyone else sleeps

I just stand there naked

Letting him touch me

No not a man, poetry

He uses imagery against me

As a reminder there was never love

Everlasting

Poetry gives birth to pain

That smells like lilac and blood stains

Dripping into to the abyss of emptiness

Puncture wounds, where my heart used to be

Poetry has a way of exposing me to myself

So, nowadays I don't want to write

I bathe myself in lies of meditation

Disguised as scented bath bombs

I use pomace stones of hope

To scrape away hurt

That has grown there

Becoming a shallow grave for my once

Vibrant, triumphant heart

Since I was never supposed to feel

That ache anyway

I tell myself I can sleep

When I'm dead

Because poetry is the only lifeline I have left

I've died and gone someplace

That's neither Heaven nor Hell

It took me somewhere outside of safety

Where anxiety can no longer exist

They defined it as

Unstable and locked me away

In a room with padded walls and just a pen

I became a number to a bunch of

Other unstable men

That no one else could hear

When I closed my eyes, and opened them again

There I stood

Staring in the mirror, a shell of my former self

I guess I should have done something sooner

Especially when I realized there was no one else

There to begin with

All along I'd been talking to myself

Too bad I never mustered up the courage

To save either of us

2018 (C) Candis Johnson

Photo Courtesy of Gabriel Matula

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# Death of a Prodigy

(THE EUOLOGY)

by

Candis Johnson

Rest in peace to poetry

It died inside of me

I guess you can say I miscarried

Better yet, mismanaged

A gift until it dried up from malnourishment

I had no time

To process this loss

Because poetry was long gone

Before I got the chance to love it like I used to

Dear poetry, please forgive me

For putting life ahead of you

You are survived by the fruit

Growing from the Harlem tree

The ghosts of Langston and Zora

No longer sit there, waiting

I should have taken better care of you

Now, all I can do is eulogize you

I would cry but I did this to you

The little child inside of me died

Along with every dream

I promised to someday reach

Dear poetry, here lies a budding prodigy

The world barely knew thee

I hope that by the end of this eulogy

One thing remains clear

You should have been able to reach your fullest potential

Instead, you're dead

Because of me

Now, I'm left with my grief

Realizing, when I lost you I lost the best part of me

Rest in peace poetry

Until we meet again

I'll mourn everything you should have been

2018 (C) Candis Johnson

Photo Courtesy of Dani Ramos

Candis Johnson

Candis M. Johnson is a thirty-year-old native of Camden NJ. She attended Camden public schools, and graduated from Creative Arts High School in 2006, with a major in Creative Writing. In 2010, she graduated from Delaware State University with a Bachelors degree in Mass Communications, and a minor in Political Science. She is currently attending Strayer University, obtaining a Masters degree in Public Administration and Business.

She is the author of several poetry books including, "Splurging on Poetry" "Somebody Had to Say It" and the Literary Magazine "S.O.U.L" (Say on Universal Languages). These publications are available on lulu.com. She is gearing up to start a publishing company in the near future. She currently resides in NJ. For inquiries, comments or questions or to join the S.O.U.L Movement, please email igotsoulthemagazine2@gmail.com.

Follow Candis on Social Media:

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/_harlems_child>

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/soulliterarymagazine>

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# Dance with Me

by

Dandii_Lion

Photo Courtesy of Isaiah Mcclean

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the rhythm of our pulsations,

Racing through our veins.

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the melodic waves of our happiness,

Coursing through our universe.

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the symphonic horns of our spirits,

Anchored deep within our souls.

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the synchronized drums of our joy,

Beating throughout our union.

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the crashing waves at sunset,

Washing away our fears.

Dance with me,

As we vibe to the beat of our own symphony,

Vibrating within our hearts.

Dance with me,

As we vibe together, hand in hand,

To monogamous, unified sounds of love.

2018 (C) Dandii_Lion

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Dandii_Lion

Tamara Wellons-Blanks, aka, Dandii_Lion is a mother, EKG Technician, crafter, Georgia Notary, author and online business owner.

Follow Dandii_Lion on Social Media:

Facebook: http://facebook.com/author Dandii_Lion

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/keeping_it_roaring>

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/DandiiAuthor1>

Google+: T.W. Blanks (Author Dandii_Lion)

Website: www.dandiilion.com

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# Parasol

By

L. Loren

Kenzie Martin is trying to get her life back on track after a tragic accident claimed the life of her best friend. Secure funding for her upstart business is what she needs to save her life. Jagger Jameison holds the key to her success, but when he recognizes her from the night of the accident that haunts him, he wants more than a business relationship. He wants a lifetime.

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Photo Courtesy of Favour Omoruyi

Chapter 1

Have you ever had one of those days where everything and I do mean everything, goes wrong? Well, multiply that by a hundred and that's my life for the last two and a half years. It all started with that stupid club. I should never have allowed Linda to talk me into going. It wasn't my thing, but she kept wining until I gave in...

"Linda, I don't care if you are my best friend. You should have never assumed that I would be cool with that. Who tricks their friend into going to a lock down? You know I hate male strippers. They are disgusting to me. Eeew!" I looked at my friend like her body had been taken over by aliens. There was no way she thought I would enjoy that. Not after the conversations we had.

"Dang, Kenzie you need to live a little. You are so prudish; you put Laura Ingals to shame. Chile, you need to take that bonnet off and let your hair down. What woman doesn't like looking at half naked men?"

"Me! I'm that woman, and you know this. I don't even know who you are right now. I can't even stand to look at you. Just take me home. I can't believe this shit."

I was truly aggravated and re-thinking our friendship. This was a major violation of friend code. Strippers were at the top of my list of hard limits. Linda should never have disregarded my feeling and tricked me. I had man juice on me for Christ's sake. Just as I was about to light into her again, her phone chimed and she went to read the text. Before I could tell her not to text and drive, especially not in the rain, it happened. Linda lost control of her car, and headed straight toward an 18-wheeler. The man swerved to miss hitting us, and ran another car off of the road.

"Oh my God! Linda!" She was silent and not moving.

Our car ran head on into the railing on the bridge. I was wearing my seatbelt and had no injuries. Linda, however, was not so lucky. She died on impact. I screamed for help until I noticed no one was coming. I had to help myself. I had to climb out of the sunroof, no easy feat in skintight club wear, but I made it out of the car just in time to see the truck, that swerved to miss us, go over the side of the bridge and into the water.

That's when I heard someone crying out for help. The darkness of night, aided by the pouring rain, made it difficult to see. I ran toward the cries not knowing what I would find. As I got closer, I saw another vehicle pined on the guardrail. The car was hanging partially off of the bridge and someone was inside.

"Sir! Sir, are you alright? Can you move?"

It was raining so hard now, and lightning illuminated the sky not far from the bridge. With just that flash of lightening, I saw just how dire the situation was. I had to act fast, or this man was going to end up in the water, the same as that trucker.

"I'm stuck! My leg is trapped under the dash, and I can't get it out."

Fuck me sideways! This man was going to die unless I did something. Think, Kenzie, think! Just as I was about to panic, a gentle calmness came over me. It kept me from panicking, long enough to come up with a plan.

"Sir, I need you to be brave. I am going to move this dash from around your leg. It will probably hurt like hell, but if I don't do this, you are going to fall into that water down there. Got me?"

The panic-stricken look on his face broke my heart. I had no time for sympathy. I snapped myself out of my reverie and began the countdown.

"I'm doing this on 3. Ready? 1-2-3!

I yanked as hard as I could, and to my surprise the dash gave way. His leg was free, but the jarring caused the car to shift. The vehicle was sliding off of the side of the bridge! The fall wasn't too far, but the impact would be tremendous. Plus, it was dark as hell, and this man couldn't swim with his injured leg. I had no time to be gentle. I latched onto the man under his arms, and pulled with all of my strength. Just as I cleared him from the car, it careened over the embankment, disappearing into the darkness.

The man was saved, but his leg was torn to shreds. I heard the sirens wailing in the distance, and help would soon arrive. Hopefully, the doctors could save his leg. At least he was still alive, unlike my friend. Once my adrenaline stopped pumping, it hit me that my friend was dead. Wracked with guilt from our last words, I started crying. I kept seeing flashes of her face, blood staining her hair and clothes. She was never coming back, and I would never be able to apologize. I was so distraught that I jumped up and started running. I had to get away from there.

For the last two and a half years, I have been healing. I decided to get the help I needed to move on with my life. I still had nightmares, but they weren't as frequent. Nowadays, they were less about Linda, and more about the man in the car. I could never remember his face. I hated the way I left him alone on that bridge. I needed to find out what happened to him. My therapist has helped me regain my ability to believe in myself. My life was still a mess, but all of that was about to change, just as soon as I get this meeting with the biggest financier in the city - Jagger Jameison.

I just know he will see the value in my proposal. I have shopped my business around to contacts, but each and every time I have been shot down. They have no vision, no imagination, but Jagger Jameison is known for his innovative ideas and willingness to take chances. Besides he was my first choice. The man is a shark in a pool of guppies. If anybody could help launch Parasol into orbit, it is him. I have no doubt he is the one who will change my life. Now, if I can only get a meeting.

"Thank you for calling Jameison Enterprises. This is Amy speaking. How may I assist you today?"

"Good morning Amy. This is Kenzie Martin calling for Mr. Jameison. Is he available?"

"Miss Martin, good morning. I am sorry, but Mr. Jameison is not available."

"Can you please tell me a good time to call back? I understand he is a very busy man, but I would love to speak with him about an important matter. If he is unavailable to talk on the phone, I would love to set an appointment for a meeting. How is his schedule for Friday?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Martin he will not be taking a meeting with you on Friday. He is a very busy man and his schedule is full at this time. You can try calling back in a month or two to see if he has any openings. Thanks for calling."

This was my daily routine. I call his office and Amy, his trusted assistant and apparent security guard, would always freeze me out. She was so polite and extra charming when she stuck it to me, but my ass still had icicles hanging from it at the end of the call. I would never get in to see him unless I found a way to heat things up. I was the queen of adapting. If old boy was going to play this game, I was going to change my strategy. He had no idea who he was dealing with. I knew how to get what I wanted, and I hated the word no. He would say yes, I guarantee it. It would just take some time and a little ingenuity. Operation Ice Melt was in full effect.

This Kenzie Martin broad was persistent, I'll give her that. My poor assistant, Amy was at her wits end. She practically begged me to take a meeting, just to stop the phone calls. I had to admit, the daily avoidance from Miss Martin was starting to take over my life. She called mornings, afternoons, and just before closing, with no relief. Amy had gotten to the point where she could predict when the phone was going to ring.

"Mr. Jameison, it's almost time for your afternoon call from Miss Martin. Do you wish to take the call, this time?"

Amy sounded exasperated. I couldn't blame her. It was Monday, and I had been hell on wheels because of the investor's meeting I had to attend. They were pressuring me to expand the recipients of the funds they were providing. They wanted diversity based on gender and skin color, where I wanted profit. I didn't care what color or gender someone was, as long as they had a well thought out business plan, and the know-how and work ethic to succeed. I wasn't about to just hand over a ton of money to the first minority who walked through the door. I just didn't do business that way. It was obvious the investors never attended business school.

"I'm sorry to do this to you Amy, but you'll have to deny her once again." Amy's hopeful eyes dropped, and she took a deep breath. She raised her eyes, and I could see fire in them, something very rare with her.

"Why?"

"Excuse me?" It wasn't like my assistant to question my orders. It angered me a bit. I turned to face her, giving her my signature asshole face. My eyes bore into her, but she continued with her rant.

"I know it is none of my business, but I am the one who has to talk to her three times a day. I think I have earned the right to know why you won't talk to her. You don't even know what she wants to talk about. It could be the very project you've been looking for."

"Because I said so! That will be all."

I didn't mean to raise my voice, but she was speaking out of turn, no matter how much truth her statement spewed. I turned my back, signifying the conversation was over as Amy rushed out to answer the ringing phone. No doubt, it was the infamous Miss Kenzie Martin on the line. I ran my hands through my perfectly coifed hair, and stood looking out of my floor to ceiling window that overlooked downtown Tampa. Truth was I didn't know why I was refusing to take her calls, except at this point, it had become a matter of pride. She thought she could wear me down, and I took that as a challenge. Nobody made Jagger Jameison do anything he didn't want to do. Fuck! Now I'm thinking to myself in the third person. This woman was getting under my skin.

She had no idea who she was going up against. Apparently, somewhere in her collegiate career, she was misinformed that persistence would pay off. That may work on some people, but not on JJ. I valued the subtle art of knowing when to jump ship in an opponent. Miss Martin's ship had sunk, and good old JJ wasn't coming to her rescue. Damn it! I am doing the third person thing again.

Chapter 2

I was sick and tired of the cold shoulder I was getting from Jameison's office. I knew he was in because I saw him go in the building this morning when I was getting my coffee. He walked right past me, and had no idea who I was. I was about to change that, as soon as I finished getting the weather report. All I needed was a good downpour and I was in business, so to speak.

It was easy to bribe his assistant into giving me his schedule for the next two weeks. All I had to do was promise to stop calling her. She would have given me her first born if I had asked. My plan was genius. I had gained permission from the local businesses in the pavilion, which housed the building where he worked, to let me set up a temporary kiosk in front of their shops. I had used all of the money from my savings to purchase the kiosks, build my app and for the inventory of custom made umbrellas with built-in smart chips, and now the moment of truth was upon me.

My company, once I received the funding from Jameison, would be the first US based umbrella sharing service. In doing my research, there was only one other business like mine, and that was all the way in China. They were doing a test market to see how successful the idea would be, and so far the numbers were phenomenal. They installed their kiosks in public transportation stations in large cities, and on rainy days, people flocked to them like red box on movie night.

This was an untapped market, and I was in on the ground floor. There was no way this wouldn't be a successful venture. I had spent months crunching numbers, researching the best places to house the kiosks in Tampa, and which markets it made sense to expand into, once things got up and running. Today would be my lucky day. My uterus had been doing flips all morning. I was about to score big! The local weatherman assured me this morning, as I watched the news, that downpours were imminent. The Doppler radar also confirmed the clouds would open up in my target area.

All I had to do now was wait for things to fall into place. Mr. Jameison had a lunch meeting at 1 o'clock, which was perfect because the downpour was scheduled around the time he would be headed back to his office. The restaurant where his meeting was to take place was within walking distance, and he loved to stroll in the afternoon.

At 2:05, the sun disappeared behind several gloomy clouds, and the skies opened up, emptying their precious gift from heaven. It wasn't just a drizzle. Oh no, the clouds were angry today, and dumped their contents with a vengeance. I was literally giddy when I saw Jagger Jemison walking hurriedly in my direction. I noticed a slight limp in his walk, but paid it no mind. The collar of his suit had been pulled up, and he was using his messenger bag as a makeshift umbrella. Something seemed off with him. There was a panicked expression on his face, and his steps faltered a bit. Was he sick?

Regardless, I had no time to waste if I wanted my plan to work. I snatched one of my signature umbrellas from the rack, and made my way toward him. I pushed the button that expanded the umbrella to its full size, and hurried over to him. I had to admit, the black umbrella with the word Parasol written in huge pale yellow script, really stood out in the crowd.

"Excuse me, sir. May I offer you a little relief from the elements?"

I stood there holding the golf size umbrella over his head, causing him to halt his steps and look at me. The look in his eye was one of gratitude, confusion and something that resembled arousal. He was grateful for the shelter, but he was also devouring me with his eyes. That was a real douche bag move, but it gave me an opening. Better women than me have used their wilds to get ahead. I certainly wasn't above a little flirting, to get what I wanted. Hell, the man was fine! This was going to be easier than I thought. I smiled at him, as he reached for the handle of the umbrella.

"Thank you. Please, let me help you with that."

I handed him the umbrella, as he flirted with me. His smile warmed my soul and drew me to him. I have never had this reaction to a stranger before, and it threw me off my game a bit. We walked together to his building, but I noticed he was no longer in a hurry.

"Mr. Jameison, you are a hard man to reach?"

His face clouded as he tried, but failed to recall my name. That's because we had never met face to face. Sure, I had stalked him online, and knew most everything about him, but he didn't know that.

"We have met before? I never forget a face, especially not one as beautiful as yours. Tell me again how we know each other."

"Well, I have to admit, we never officially met before today. I have been more in touch with your assistant - more times than either of us would like. The two of us have become so familiar, I was thinking about inviting her to my birthday party a few weeks from now."

I gave him a cheeky smile, ensuring he knew I was aware he was avoiding me. His shoulders dropped, and his eyes showed recognition. He knew of me, but had no idea what I looked like before now.

"Ahh, then you must be the infamous Kenzie Martin. The woman who has called my office three times a day for the last two months."

I did a little curtsey and laughed at the pained look on his face. He was caught in my snare, and now I had to reel him in.

"That's me, in the flesh," I flirted.

He looked me up and down again and smiled. "And what flesh it is. It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Martin. It is Miss, isn't it?"

Oh yeah, I had him right where I wanted.

"Why thank you, Mr. Jameison, and yes, it is Miss. I am very single." I batted my eyes for extra emphasis, letting my inner Southern Belle out to play. Call me crazy, but I started channeling Whitley Gilbert. Men who looked at me, like he was looking at me, always found it charming when I played that role. I looked up to find we were at the entrance of his building.

"So, what was this umbrella all about? Were you lying in wait to rescue me?"

His odd word choice caused a flashback of the night I was a heroine, but I disregarded the feeling. Deja vu they called it.

"As a matter of fact, I was. I would love to take this conversation up to your office, and tell you all about the reason I offered you a Parasol umbrella. Shall we?"

I placed my hand seductively on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. He reluctantly nodded his head as I followed him to the elevator. He looked at me like a predator as we entered our metal cage, but I made sure to stay on the opposite wall from him. I had to admit, his pictures did not do him justice. Seeing him in the flesh was an experience. I usually didn't go for white guys, but this man was speaking to me. Or was it those oddly familiar green eyes, hidden behind those tortoise shell frames? I had always been a sucker for a tall man in glasses.

He slicked his wet hair back with his hand as he licked his full lips, never taking his eyes off of me. The custom fitted suit he was wearing did nothing to hide the muscular build of his chest. I found myself wondering what it would be like to have him pull me into those muscular arms, and kiss me senseless. I was totally picturing him man handling me like Christian did to Ana in their many elevator encounters. Damn, I guess the rain wasn't the only reason I was wet.

Chapter 3

She was magnificent! I couldn't believe my eyes when this angel, disguised as a woman, walked up to me and offered me shelter from the rain. How did she know? Rain was my kryptonite. It brought back such painful memories of the accident that almost took my life. I was just on the verge of a panic attack, remembering how I was trapped in my car, hanging off of the Howard Frankland Bridge in the rain.

I had a flash of my leg being crushed by the 18 wheeler as it crashed into me. When she smiled up at me and guided her umbrella over my head, I could have sworn I had seen her beautiful face before. It was like she was sent to save me. Then it dawned on me. She was indeed my angel, the one who saved me from falling off the bridge. She disappeared, just ran off into the night before I could thank her. Now, here she was again, sent to save me once more.

When she identified herself as the thorn in my assistant's side, I chuckled to myself. I had wasted so much time. I had been looking for her, but never knew her name. Kenzie Martin was beautiful, with curves for days. Her lips were so succulent I wanted to kiss her until she flushed with desire. Her silky smooth cocoa colored skin glistened against the pale yellow dress that hugged the hell out of her perfect breasts; the cold of the rain making her nipples stand up and say hello.

All of my foolish pride washed away. I couldn't believe I had been avoiding a meeting with this beauty. Amy looked at me with curious eyes as soon as we exited the elevator. Her eyes followed us all the way to my office, no doubt because of the stupid big smile stretched across my face.

"Amy, can you give me 15 minutes before my next meeting, please? I need to discuss a proposal with Miss Martin."

Amy's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in disbelief. I never took impromptu meetings.

"Kenzie Martin?"

"That's me," she said with a charming smile. She turned to my stunned assistant, and offered to shake her hand. Amy had to force herself to snap out of her shock, in order to shake hands with the lovely lady. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I feel like we're old friends as much as we talk on the phone." Kenzie laughed as she withdrew her hand, and followed me into my office, where she took the seat I offered.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked, taking a hand towel from my stash in my desk, and removing any excess water from my face and hands. I would have offered her one, but she was unaffected by the rain.

"No, thank you. I'm fine. I know you're a very busy man so why don't we get started? After all, 15 minutes isn't a lot of time. I usually need at least an hour to handle my business."

I almost choked on my own salvia at the innuendo laced in her comment. Is it possible that she doesn't remember me? Kenzie removed her trench coat draping it over the back of her chair. I was shocked to see a messenger bag slung across her body. How the hell did she hide that? Her coat was unbuttoned, and I had a great view of her beautiful body in that yellow dress. Never once had I seen a bag. She reached into the black bag with the word Parasol written in script across the front. Now that I think about it, the same word was on the umbrella she used to escort me to my building. I couldn't wait to see what it meant.

"I certainly wish I had more time to explore you. I meant to say, Miss Martin, please tell me why I can't live without you." What? Oh shit, I didn't mean to say that. I cleared my throat, and adjusted my tie as I corrected myself. "I meant to say, why I can't live without your product." Yeah, that's it.

The entire time she never took her eyes off of me. I was putty in her hands, and she knew it. She flashed that charming smile once again. Kenzie began to present me with the most thought out presentation that I had seen in a long time. The woman had done her homework. Her business plan was stellar, and the numbers she was displaying had me salivating for a huge profit. My angel was not a only beautiful savior, she was brilliant. I would buy anything she was selling if it meant spending more time in her presence, but I had to admit this proposal was top notch.

I was chomping at the bit to invest in Parasol, but I was also dying to get to know this lovely creature better. I wanted her more than I have ever wanted a woman. She had plagued my dreams, haunting me with her sexy voice. The day of my dreams had arrived, but she still didn't recognize me. I had to play it cool. I didn't want to seem too eager. That would lead me down the road to rejection, and I don't think I could survive a no from her beautiful lips. Think JJ, think, and do it quickly.

"Your proposal was good. I have some concerns I would like to address, but I have another meeting to take right now. What do you say we discuss this more over dinner?"

Chapter 4

I had heard everything I needed to hear from him, except the word yes. My presentation was stellar. I prepared it with the approval of my mentor, Shonda Loveless, and if she didn't find anything lacking, there was nothing to find. The man couldn't be still. He kept absentmindedly adjusting his pants, which had grown noticeably tight in the front. He was packing an impressive package that, I wouldn't mind jockeying tonight. I was willing to do what I had to, to get my funding. If it meant sleeping with a handsome man, that I would have slept with anyway, why not?

There was no sense in pretending. We both knew his dinner invitation was a rouse to get me into bed. I decided to cut to the chase. I hated when people wasted time on fluff. Just get to the point already. I wanted to ride him like a stallion, and he definitely wanted me to saddle him up.

"My place or yours?" It was matter of fact, and I caught him by surprise.

Jagger's mouth flew open in shock. He eyed me with curiosity. He seriously didn't know what to make of me. Well, just wait until I am lap tied to your fine ass. You won't know your own name when I am finished with you.

"Don't look so surprised. You haven't been able to take your eyes off of my body since I removed my coat. It's obvious why you invited me to 'dinner'." I used air quotes to emphasize my point.

He finally snapped out of his trance, acknowledging my accusation. He dropped his head in shame.

"I apologize, Miss Martin. I should have better control of myself, and I usually do. There is just something about you that makes me lose all reason. I didn't mean to come off as a creep. The acceptance of your proposal is not contingent on your having dinner with me. In fact, I made up my mind to fund you five minutes into your presentation. Congratulations! Your company is just what I was looking for. Let's just forget about dinner."

"So you don't want to have dinner with me?" I smiled letting him know I wasn't offended by his offer. I was actually flattered, and horny - very, very horny. It no longer mattered that I didn't have to do this for my funding. I wanted to. Hell, I needed a good dicking down, and he was well equipped for the job.

"That's too bad. I was looking forward to feeding you dessert, or don't you eat sweets?"

I leaned into him and whispered, as I said the last part. He knew what I was insinuating, and I could feel the heat rise in the room. He reached up to loosen his tie, as I stood back to watch his reaction. A few beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. He reached down to adjust his pants again, this time with a painful expression on his face. Yeah, he was horny, too. I had just what he needed to douse his fire. I stepped back, grabbing my coat and bag. I left the umbrella leaned against his desk on purpose. I wanted him to think about me for the rest of the day. Reaching in the side pocket of my bag, I pulled out my business card, and handed it to him.

"This has all of my contact information. Text me for the address. If I don't hear from you by 5 o'clock, I will know you're not coming. Otherwise, I'll be expecting you for dinner around 7. Three things if you decide to show... one - Take your vitamins, two - drink some pineapple juice, and three - expect a marathon night. If you can't hang, don't come."

I left him standing in the middle of his office with his eyes bugged out of his head. No doubt, he had never been spoken to like that before. I was the type of lover who got what she wanted. I would take it, if need be, but I preferred that the man was prepared ahead of time. I hated the one and done type. I expected at least three rounds, each providing amazing orgasms. We'll see what that fine ass JJ has to offer. I hope it's tasty. I would hate to be disappointed again.

--------

Well, it looks like my angel is no angel at all. She had a little devil popping up over her shoulder waving at me, enticing me to play, and I couldn't resist if I wanted to. No woman has ever had me panting after her, salivating like a thirsty puppy in the throes of a heat wave. Yes, that's what she was, a heat wave. She turned my mind into a helpless mound of mush, and my body was burning like volcanic ash. I wanted to text her as soon as she left my office, but that would make me look too eager. I totally was, but she didn't need to know that.

I waited as long as I could. At 3:30, in the middle of my meeting, I pulled out my phone and sent the text. She replied a minute later, making me wait. Damn, I could fall head over heels for this one. I don't think I'll make it until 7 tonight to see her again. I knew one thing. She was going to get exactly what she wanted. I excused myself from the meeting, to speak with my assistant.

"Amy, I need you to head over to the pharmacy for me, since I am trapped in this meeting. I need a good multi vitamin - the gummy kind. They tend to work faster. I also need lots of pineapple juice and some condoms. Thanks." She gave me a knowing look, shaking her head. She snatched the 50 I handed her and rushed off, smirking at me as the elevator door closed.

I spent the next few hours in a daze. I needed to focus on my business, but my cock was taking over my thinking. I couldn't concentrate on anything, except those succulent breasts and that plump ass. I was going to get to see all of her unclothed tonight. I was so distracted that I was forced to go into my private bathroom, and milk the one eyes snake. My antics did little to relieve my problem. I was walking around with a semi at the mere thought of her. Her perfume still lingered the room, or was it my imagination. Her scent reminded me of lemonade on a hot summer day, lemony and sweet. And damn if I wasn't thirsty.

***

She answered the door looking like walking sex. Her curves were calling me from all sides. The sheer black dress left nothing to the imagination, as I spied the decadent undergarment she was wearing. It was black and molded to her sexy body like it was poured on. I was going to have a lot of fun taking that off. The scent of lemon and sugar tickled my nose as she leaned in to kiss my cheek. I instinctively wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her into my body, where she was born to be. It was ridiculous to think, but at that very moment, I claimed her. She was my woman, perfect for me.

"You look amazing." I kicked the door closed behind me, and lowered my face to hers. I was done asking for permission, Yes, I wanted her approval, but she invited me over here, and told me what she wanted. I couldn't keep my hands off of her if I tried. She moaned giving me exactly what I wanted. She didn't resist, and in fact leaned in closer. My hands explored her intoxicating form, as I devoured her mouth. She tasted like peppermint and I wanted more. Trying to control myself I pulled back to look into her eyes. She was on fire, pupils dilated and breathing hard. My cock jumped as she licked her ruby stained lips. I had never been this hard in my life.

"Damn, that was hot Mr. Jameison. You're about to make me burn dinner. Come in and get comfortable, while I finish up in the kitchen. There's wine on the table if you're thirsty."

I was thirsty all right, but not for wine. I wanted to taste her nectar, and I couldn't wait. This woman did things to me. I followed her into the kitchen, and watched as she went to the stove. I reached around her, turning the burners off, rubbing my length against her. She moaned and moved her booty against my erection. Damn this woman! I growled in frustration. I needed her now. Turning to me, she delivered a kiss that lit my soul on fire. I spun her around to face the wall, at the same time moving my hands over her ample hips. She felt so good, I almost came. I had to get a hold of myself. Kneeling behind her, I used my hands to push her legs apart, and slid my mouth up her inner thigh licking a trail up to heaven. Mmmm, her skin was hot and sweet.

My tongue found its way between her folds, and she gasped at the intrusion. The first taste of her honey was the sweetest. She was even more delicious than I imagined.

"I can't believe how sweet you taste, baby. I could snack on you for hours."

My God, she was made for me. I ran my teeth over her lips and sucked them into my mouth. Her knees dipped and she moaned so loudly, I knew she loved it. I alternated licking her clit, tongue fucking her sweet pussy, and sucking her lady lips. Kenzie melted in my mouth, just like she promised, and I had to squeeze my dick to keep from coming in my pants. I always got extra excited, whenever I could make a woman come with my mouth. It was such a power trip knowing I was responsible for her pleasure.

Chapter 5

His mouth was magnificent! This man was straight out of my fantasies. His body was definitely ribbed, and I intended to use it for my pleasure. After making me explode in his mouth, he stood behind me kissing my neck. One hand fondled my breast, while the other found its way to my clit. He was driving me out of my mind with desire. It had been a while since a man had touched me. He definitely knew what he was doing. I hoped he was just as talented with his cock, as he was with his hands and mouth. Odds were in my favor.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good, but I want to taste you now."

Before he could move, I pulled out of his grasp, and lowered myself in front of him, unzipping his pants as I went down. Damn, he was sexy as hell. He smiled, apparently happy with what I was about to do. I attempted to pull his pants off, but he stopped me mid-thigh. I thought it odd, but whatever he liked. I licked my lips just before lowering them over the head of his thick cock. The wet heat of my mouth caused him to jerk forward, and a bit of pre-cum leaked out. Mmmm, he tasted good. I see he knew how to follow instructions. He drank his pineapple juice, like I asked.

My eagerness caused him to moan, as I moved my mouth to take his nine inches to the back of my throat. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of him in my mouth. I loved giving head. It was such a power trip. I bobbed up and down on his shaft, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. Placing his hand in my hair, he gently coached me to the pace he liked. A very satisfied moan escaped his lips, as I did my little tongue trick. I dubbed it the atomic wave. I had the ability to move my tongue like the wave of the ocean. It drove men wild, when I unleashed it.

"Oh, fuck, Kenzie! Do that shit again. Don't stop whatever you do."

Yeah, that's what I liked; a man not afraid to express himself. The more he talked, the wetter I became, until I couldn't take it anymore. I had to feel him inside me. I popped his cock on my lips as I pulled away, causing it to lurch.

"I don't know where you learned to do that, but I need that shit again."

I giggled at his excitement, and began to lower his pants. Again, I was met with hesitation. I stopped and looked at him with curiosity.

"Shit, Jagger, if you want me to fuck you, theses have to go or they will be very messy when you try to put them back on. I tend to get extremely wet when I'm excited."

He took a deep breath, like he was willing himself to do this. All I knew was, he had better hurry up because I needed him, and I wasn't going to wait much longer. What was he hiding, anyway?

"I need to show you something, but I don't know how you'll react."

"At this point, Jagger you could show me a Nazi tattoo and I would still fuck your brains out. I need you. Do you understand? I don't care what it is. Stop with the antics and let's do this."

He took one more deep breath, and dropped his pants to the floor. There stood before me, a very muscular right leg, and a prosthetic limb attached to his other knee. A flash of the accident washed over me and in that moment I realized it was Jagger in the car. I could clearly see his face now. Oh My God! This had to be a sign from Linda. I was supposed to be with JJ. He was my soul mate. That's why I was able to save him that night and not her.

"It was you - that night on the bridge. Did you recognize me?" I stood waiting for an answer and he nodded his head. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted you to want me without knowing who I was. I didn't want you to feel obligated. When you started flirting with me, I knew you were just as attracted to me, as I was to you. I didn't mean to..."

I cut him off mid-sentence. He was sexy as hell and I had to have him. My lower lips pulsed, and my freak level went up a degree. I wanted to know how his prosthetic would feel against my skin. I grabbed him, and started kissing him.

We ended up in the bedroom, with clothes strewn across the floor along the way. I pushed him down on the bed, and snagged a handful of condoms from the drawer. I intended to use them all tonight. Opening one, I instructed Jagger to lie back and relax. I was in control this go around. He could take charge later, but I knew what I needed to get me off. I stood at the edge of the bed watching him get comfortable on his back.

"Put your knees up with your feet flat on the bed."

He did as I demanded without hesitation, and it turned me on even more. I loved a man who could relinquish control in the bedroom.

"Open your legs for me, baby," I commanded.

He looked puzzled, but did as I asked. He was about to get the ride of his life. I joined him on the bed, crawling between his parted legs. I rolled the condom in place, and then straddled him facing his left leg, the one with the prosthetic. The feel of the metal was intoxicating. With my left bent leg next to his hip, and my right leg between his legs, I impaled myself with his gorgeous cock. Our heads went back at the same time, as if on cue. He felt so damn good. A sight better than that damn dildo I had been using. He pulsed inside me as I lifted myself, and lowered back onto him. It was the perfect angle to continually hit my g-spot. Each movement caused pure ecstasy throughout my body.

I rocked my pelvis up and down on his length, crying out in pleasure over and over. The faster I moved my hips, the better it felt. I was rocking on this man like a speed demon. By the time my body erupted in orgasm, he was crying out for me to stop, not wanting to come. I couldn't stop if I tried, so I kept riding him, causing him to join my bliss. He was panting, with eyes rolled back, and hands gripping my waist.

"Damn, Kenzie! You are amazing. I never came so hard in my life."

--------

I was amazed that this beautiful woman still wanted me after seeing I was missing a limb. I thought for sure she would ask me to leave when she remembered me, but she surprised me. In fact, it seemed to get her going even more. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Kenzie was a beast in bed. The way she rode me was off the charts. I had never experienced anything like it. She ripped my orgasm out of me before I could stop it. My god, she was beautiful when she came. I vowed then and there to make her come as often as I could. I needed to see her like that again and again.

I was spent after our first round, but my body still craved her. When she collapsed on top of me, my heart expanded two sizes. I wanted to be like this with her for the rest of my days. No other woman could make me feel like this. I tightened my hold on her and rubbed my face in her hair. Lemony sweet, just like she tasted.

As I lay there holding her, I couldn't help but to think about what our future held. I definitely wanted a future with her. I just hoped she wanted one with me.

"What are you over there thinking about?" She asked, as she returned from the kitchen with water for both of us. I smiled at her thoughtfulness. She was a nurturer by nature, and that was just what I needed in my life.

"I was just thinking about how I'm going to enjoy watching you come, as I take you from the back."

I had given myself 20 minutes to recoup, and I wanted to taste her again. My intention was to spend the rest of the night making love to this amazing woman, and in the morning having her for breakfast. The way I was going, she would be lucky to see the light of day for at least three days. It had been almost three years since I had been with a woman, and I wasn't about to let her go easily. She was mine!

I grabbed her and pulled her to me, kissing her deeply.

"Kenzie Martin, I could spend a lifetime buried in you."

"Oh, really? Well, I have no problem with that. Let's get started."

2018 (C) L. Loren

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# My Favorite Color

by

L. Loren

Photo Courtesy of Melissa Mjoen

Your aura invades my mind

You attack my senses deeper than I have ever felt

The feel of your touch does things to my soul.

Your scent is embedded in my memory

Causing me to crave you more and more

You're intoxicating.

I could melt in your eyes

When you look at me that certain way

I feel like your voluntary prey.

And every time I see your smile

I want to freeze time so the moment will last

When I hear our voice, goose bumps appear on my body

Your love is the closest thing to addiction I have experienced

And when I taste your manhood, I want to devour you

My mouth waters at the thought of your essence.

I live for the moment when you wrap me in your arms

There is no place I would rather be in post coital bliss

My favorite color is YOU!

2018 (C) L. Loren

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# Orange Dreams

By

L. Loren

Photo Courtesy of Marinn

--------

I dream in color when I dream of you, the visions are so vivid

The memories so clear.

Some days I lie awake hoping to drift back to sleep

Just to see you again.

The joy I feel when your hands touch my body is unimagined

Our lips press together in a swirl of lust.

When you lick my body, I ignite

The fire always burning out of control.

The throbbing in my core makes me want you more

Touch me, taste me, have your way.

Slide between my thighs and let me see the color I long for

Only you can bring me the color of joy.

When I awake a cloud of ORANGE floats throughout the room

Reminding me of my dream and of you.

2018 (C) L. Loren

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# Giving Me Purple

by

L. Loren

Your eyes hold the key to unlock the mysteries inside me.

There is no need for resistance when you're around

With just one look I am putty in your hands.

Smile and I'll give you the world.

Laugh and my day is made

Your touch has magical powers

And you certainly know how to wield them.

I would die a happy woman as long as you are inside me.

Your loving is luxurious and it spoils me

There could never be anyone else to satisfy my needs.

I feel like a QUEEN in your presence.

Love and Happiness reign supreme in our kingdom

YOU are giving me PURPLE!

2018 (C) L. Loren

Photo Courtesy of @heynaaty

L. Loren

L. Loren is a former call center supervisor currently based in Birmingham, AL with her loving and supportive husband.

Growing up the youngest of seven in a small town in North Carolina, she embraced her love of reading which helped to develop her imagination. Her desire to write lay dormant for years until she found the courage to look within and her passion could no longer be ignored.

She created her own brand of Romance that she dubbed LoveRotica - Love stories with an edge of sexy. Her current works include, The WanderLynn Experience Series: Book 1 - The Layover, Book 2 - Island Adventures and Book 3- Destination Home, Egyptian Nights, and Hall Pass.

Her short stories are also featured in Volume 4 of SOUL Magazine, The Christmas Kisses 2017 Anthology and the Lovestruck Anthology.

Follow L. on Social Media:

FaceBook: <http://facebook.com/l.lorenwriter>

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/rebirthoflisa>

Twitter : <http://twitter.com/rebirthoflisa>

Pinterest: <http://pinterest.com/rebirthoflisa>

Blog: <http://llorenwriter.wordpress.com>

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# Twice in Love

by

Brookelyn Mosley

Desiree met Zane the evening of Independence Day at Brooklyn's Coney Island. On Christmas Eve that same year, Zane brought her back there to ask her to be his wife. Two months later they exchanged vows. Then ten months after that, she forgot it all... including Zane. Before they met, Desiree never thought she could fall in love with a man she barely knew. Can she do it again?

Photo Courtesy of Meghan Holmes

I gasped before my eyes opened.

My shoulders shot up from my pillow next.

"Dammit," I spat.

Pulling in air fast enough seemed impossible, but the positive was my vision became clearer by the second. I darted my eyes around the room. I was sweating so much my silk cami and shorts clung to my skin like saran wrap.

"Desiree, look for something familiar," I coached, reminding myself of what the doctor told me. When my eyes fell on my gold chain with the word YOLO written in script, hanging from the mirror of my dresser, I released a long sigh, and took another breath. I leaned back against the white tufted headboard to steady my breathing. My eyes closed when I dropped my head into my hands.

This, waking up like this had become the usual for the past week since returning home. Night terrors caused by visions of blinding light I saw in my sleep. Me driving in a car in total darkness, only stopping when I collided with nothingness. But it wasn't the crashing that woke me. It was the bright lights. Headlights from a moving car I couldn't get to stop, no matter how loud I screamed in my dream... or nightmare. Whatever it was.

I ran my fingers up from my temples to my forehead to dry my sweat. My hand gripped the ball of my top bun as I sighed, preparing myself to face another day.

I glanced around the room again. It was beautiful. Everything white. But not uncomfortably white. It was a romantic white. Everything soft. The vintage white dresser a little distressed, but that was the design. The canopy bed I slept on alone had a whimsical vibe to it. A sheer curtain that draped down the sides was folded and pinned upward. Black art of couples hugging, kissing, or caressing adorned the surrounding walls. Just beautiful.

I decorated this room, you know. Well, at least that was what my husband, Zane, told me. But I can't recollect ever laying a finger on a single decor piece. And I can't remember my husband.

Since returning home from the hospital a week ago, I'd slept in our master bedroom alone. Zane was uncomfortable with me being uncomfortable. He thought it would be too much to share a bed after my memory loss, so he spent his nights sleeping in the guest room down the hall.

I took another deep breath and swung my legs to my right, scooting to the edge of the bed, and feeling for the floor beneath me with my toes.

I returned home from the hospital ten days ago. It was bad, my accident. Almost fatal. Apparently, I'd randomly popped up out of bed the night before New Year's Eve with a craving for clam chowder. Just my luck it was the night of a wicked Brooklyn snow storm. I was home alone. Zane was at work until morning and I was hungry.

The thought of him and work made my eyes move toward our closet where his bulletproof vest hung over the door. We spoke enough for me to learn he was a SWAT officer. The irony. My job as an Off-Beat journalist was safer than his, but I was the one who almost lost their life.

Damn snow storm. That storm changed everything.

It was so bad, weathermen advised all residents to stay indoors because the roads were slick. That meant nothing, because I got dressed anyway, sat behind the wheel of my car, and drove down those slick roads to Sheepshead Bay. All for the love of clam chowder. Not exactly my recollection. This was what they told me. Based on the soup my car's carpet got to eat instead of me, investigators determined I'd crashed after buying the soup.

What happened after that was more educated guesses. I must have slid over a patch of black ice after losing control of my car. Then I had to have slammed my car into a pedestrian crosswalk sign. The pictures from the accident proved this, and made my stomach turn. The front of my car practically hugged that pole. And I was stupid enough not to have on my seatbelt because the paramedics didn't cut me out of it. I suffered a terrible blow to my head after I banged it against my steering wheel. Somehow my airbag never deployed. The concussion I received was so terrible, there's an entire year and some months of my life I can't account for. Like meeting a man and marrying him.

I entered my master bathroom, and caught a whiff of pancake batter rising and firming in a skillet along the way. Sweet smelling, I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled the air.

"Mmmm," I hummed. The pancakes smelled like they had chocolate in them. My stomach growled in anticipation. Those pancakes were being prepared by my husband. A husband I don't remember having. I'd met a man, connected with him so deeply that I agreed to start a life with him, and I can't remember a single moment.

That was so unlike me, anyway. To settle down. Not my thing. Marriage. The thought and the word made me cringe. It signified loss of freedom. The muting of fun. I'd never even had a boyfriend... ever. Having anyone who had a say in my life, I thought, was like death to my soul. But somehow, I said, "I do."

I shook my head at the thought and stood over my bathroom sink, sliding on a thick line of toothpaste on my toothbrush.

He's a nice guy, Zane. Handsome and beyond caring. Physically, he was my type. You know, way taller than me. Beautiful eyes. Million-dollar smile that beckoned me to return one back. The quiet kind which surprised me because he didn't appear that way on the surface. He was like a saint in the body of a warrior. Since my accident, he's been very supportive and sacrificed a lot. He was by my side every day and night for the month I was in the hospital, not reporting to work where needed. He brought me things from home during my hospital stay like books to keep my mind busy. I spent thirty days in the hospital after my crash. That concussion I mentioned, left me dazed for days along with a case of Amnesia. According to the doctors the accident affected my short-term memory. My memory would come back, maybe, but there was no telling when.

I remembered my childhood; my awful high school years, and being bullied and picked on for being out of shape, sporting braces and having a head full of frizzy curls. You would think if I could forget anything in the world it would be my teen years, but no. I had to forget an entire year, I supposedly was my happiest. I remember college and graduating with honors. And I even recall celebrating my 28th birthday two years prior with my friends. But everything after that is black. And coincidentally enough, around that black time, I met my husband.

After taking a shower, I picked out clothes to wear. I dressed myself in a simple pair of black leggings, the matching deep V-neck top, and a gray Polo zipped-up hooded sweater.

I tiptoed toward the kitchen.

This home was stunning.

Mint green walls with gold decor and crown molding, that framed the walls and base boards. An exposed brick wall in the living room, and an arching entryway to boot. Short-stemmed white roses mushroomed the top of a crystal vase that sat on the coffee table in the living room. Seeing them made me all warm inside. Apparently, I've insisted on white roses being in the living area. And according to Zane, I designed all of this. I couldn't fathom how I had the patience to pull off something like decorating a home. The chic style of the decor, yes, I could believe that. But the actual action of taking on a project and completing it was a shock.

"Captain Rogers, I don't know what else to tell you," Zane said from the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder then turned to follow his voice. "I'm not reporting to work until Desiree's memory is back."

"Armstrong. You have training," a voice echoed from Zane's phone speaker. "This is mandatory, and you know that."

"You know I don't give a damn about work when my wife isn't well."

"Look, Armstrong...."

"No, you look. I understand you gotta do your job, Captain. But seriously, where's your heart?"

I leaned on the wall behind the kitchen's entrance, eavesdropping.

Zane had been a SWAT officer for years, even before we met. News clippings of hostage rescues he taped to his home office wall were proof he was the best at his job. He was modest about that fact, though.

Rogers' exhale vibrated through the phone's speaker. "You are so close to moving up in rank. All you have to do is pass training this week and...."

"What are you not understanding? I don't give a fuck about a rank or even a job," Zane barked. "And if it's a problem, y'all can just fire my ass. In fact, I'll hand in my letter of resignation this afternoon if I need to."

"Calm down, Armstrong. Damn." Rogers snorted a laugh. "Why must you always take things there? I swear you go from zero to one-hundred in seconds."

They both laughed.

"Anyway," Rogers added, "I'd be a fool to do something stupid like that. You know you're one of the best in the unit."

I cleared my throat, to make my presence known, before entering the kitchen.

Zane turned quick in my direction then turned back around to take the phone off speaker. "I gotta go. I'll touch base with you later."

Zane didn't even wait for Rogers to reply before he ended the call.

He turned to face me again. "Good morning. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Hey." I forced a smile. "It's Valentine's Day? Wow. I guess Happy Valentine's Day to you too then."

Zane closed the space between us. He was close when he leaned in for a kiss.

I responded by turning away.

"Oh, my fault." He ran his palm down his lips and stepped back. "Habit."

"Hmph." I forced another smile. I did that a lot. Offer fake smiles. Not intentionally. Nervously.

My husband made me nervous.

His looks at least.

Tawny brown skin, bald, with a stunning trimmed beard. Big arms, one arm etched with a sleeve of tats that extended from his shoulder to his wrist. On the other bicep a simple tribal tat with my name written below it in script.

His eyes?

His eyes were enchanting. A deep amber with so much shine they resembled chocolate diamonds.

Zane was tall. He towered over me. At first glance he was intimidating. Wore a natural scowl with brows set in curiosity like he was always reading people, mostly me. And his voice. He could melt the panties off an ice Queen. No exaggeration.

I sighed and focused elsewhere.

"I made you a little something." He turned and approached the chairs at our wooden kitchen table. Zane slid it out and motioned for me to take a seat.

I'd sat down when he pushed the chair in with ease, as if I weighed nothing. I glanced over my shoulder to watch him plate three pancakes.

He placed my dish in front of me and they were perfect. Just as my nose detected, they had tiny chocolate morsels cooked into them.

I leaned forward to inhale them. "Mmm, these are my favorite."

"I know." He sat on the chair opposite me, and slid the bottle of maple syrup over.

"Thank you." I smiled.

"You're more than welcome, baby."

I moved my eyes off my plate and focused on him then blinked in response.

He cleared his throat. "I mean, Desiree."

Zane sighed then ran his palm down his face slow.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He wrinkled his brows. "For what?"

"You obviously... we obviously were... are... in love and I can't--"

"Listen," he said reaching for my hand. "You don't have a thing to apologize about. This is only temporary."

I stared at his hand on mine. Noticing my view, he was about to pull his hand away until I held it.

The gesture made him smile, and that smile melted my heart.

"It's been a month," I told him. "And I haven't remembered a single thing besides what you've told me."

"You will." Zane gestured at my plate. "Eat up. I don't want your food to get cold."

I tilted the sweetness out the spout. "Aren't you going to have a plate too?"

"Too many carbs." He grinned.

I forked pancakes into my mouth and moaned at the sight of his physique. The man was perfect. GI Joe figurine perfect. Abs tight, veins lining his biceps and hinting at his strength. As shallow as I might sound, I could see why I'd say yes to a marriage proposal from him.

"I'm more of a green protein smoothie kind of guy in the morning." He pointed at my plate. "This is more your thing. You love chocolate chip pancakes. Always have. So...."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"I appreciate you," he replied.

I nodded and continued eating.

"I was thinking," Zane said. He stood up from his seat to approach the blender that held his green smoothie. "We've tried the telling-you-stuff-about-yourself thing. Progress seems slow doing it that way. So, let's try something different. Maybe we can revisit some of these places we've visited together. I think that will help jog your memory a little."

I shrugged. "If you think it will help. I trust you."

The words left my lips before I could stop them.

His smile eased my hesitation.

"Good," he said.

"What did you have planned?"

"I was thinking we check out the place we first met. Coney Island."

"We met at Coney Island?"

He nodded, unable to contain his smile. "I proposed to you there too."

"Really?!"

Coney Island in Brooklyn was my favorite place to go... the amusement park and boardwalk at least. I could never forget that. Ever since I was a kid, Coney Island was my go-to place every summer for a guaranteed memorable time.

"Yup," he nodded. "Seven months after we met on the Thunderbolt coaster's line, I asked you to marry me."

My brow arched. "Seven months? I agreed to get married after only seven months of dating?" I shook my head. "No way."

He chuckled. "No lie. I asked, and you said yes. Happiest day of my life."

I blushed. "It's too cold for rides, no?"

"We'll just walk the boardwalk and peer in through the gates if it'll help."

I nodded. "Okay. Let's do that."

***

Instead of driving, we swiped our Metro Cards, and rode the Coney Island-bound Q train. We took it to the second to last stop. As soon as I caught a view of the tallest rides framing the skyline, I smiled to myself. We saw the amusement park's coasters as the train rolled over tracks, elevated high over street signs outside. The Coney Island Cyclone roller coaster, Deno's Wonder Wheel, and the Brooklyn Flyer were right there in plain view.

I'd seen it over a thousand times, but seeing the area again made me smile like it was my first time. The parks were closed since it was the off-season,

Two parks made up Coney Island's amusement area. In one of those parks were rides specifically for kids. The other rides were there for the pleasure of adults.

Zane thought it would be a smart idea to get off the train near the Aquarium, so we could walk the boardwalk.

Even with my quarter-length puffer coat, with my hood on, and my knee-high riding boots, I still felt the cold biting at my skin. It was freezing, one of the coldest days on record. I didn't care. I was at my favorite place in the world.

The bottom of my riding boots and his black Timberlands made hollow thuds below us as we walked along the boardwalk. To our left was the beach, that even in the winter, appeared inviting.

Zane blew into his hands and rubbed them together when he peered over at me, and offered a boyish smirk. "Perfect weather for Coney Island, right?"

I laughed.

"So," I said, staring straight ahead of us, "how did we meet?"

Zane smiled. "Standing on line. The evening of Independence Day, and a few hours before the fireworks. We were waiting to get on the coaster up that way." He pointed at the Thunderbolt ride.

I squinted my eyes to get a better view.

"You were there with Lauren and Paulette. They're your--"

"I know my girls, Zane."

"Right." He nodded. "Only short-term memory loss. My fault."

I waited for him to continue.

"Anyway, I saw you and you saw me, and you wouldn't stop glancing over your shoulder to see if you still had my attention."

"Sounds like me."

"As fate would have it," he said gesturing to a bench opposite the entrance of the ride we met on, "we were seated and strapped in next to each other on the Thunderbolt."

"Really?" I sat on the bench and he joined me.

He nodded. "The moment they secured your harness, I introduced myself to you and you did the same."

I turned to peek at the ride, observing it out of service. During the summer, Coney Island was the liveliest. In June, once noon struck, the parks opened. Music blasted from unseen speakers. You could see people eating, playing and having a good time. But that day, Valentine's Day, everything stood still.

"So, we eventually exchanged numbers, I'm sure," I suggested.

"We did. And we went out that weekend."

I smiled.

Old man winter made his presence known. My hands absorbed that cold air like a sponge, leaving my fingertips numb. I cupped my hands over my mouth and blew in them.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's freezing out here," I replied.

He turned to face me, took my hands in his then rubbed his palms against each one. Zane then brought my hands to his lips and exhaled hot air into them while looking in my eyes.

He did more than warm my hands. There was something about how he fixed his eyes on me that told me we were more than married. We had to be lovers too. From the moment I was well enough to return home, seduction cloaked his once sympathetic gazes.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He kissed the center of my palm. The move caused my walls to pull in, in response. I moaned to myself.

"You're always welcome," he said back.

When he hadn't broken eye contact with me, I turned my head away to hide my smile. My view settled on the water that spanned for miles behind us.

"You said you proposed here." I faced him again. "How'd you do that?"

"Christmas Eve," he said, smiling. "It's a tradition in my family to open one gift on Christmas Eve, and I wanted to propose in a place we both knew and that meant something to us. So, we came out here and were walking along the boardwalk when we stopped over there to sit on the bench facing the beach. Before then we hadn't discussed marriage, and everyone told me it was still too soon in our relationship for it. But when you know, you know."

I refused to fight back my smile after that. "Was I receptive when you asked me?"

He nodded. "I got down on one knee, told you I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I understood you treasured your freedom. Relationships were never your thing, you told me this from the beginning. But..." He shrugged. "When you finally let me in, I was honored. I am honored. And I couldn't miss the chance to blend our forevers together. You said yes before I could even finish my speech."

I laughed. "Oh, yeah right."

He laughed too. "I'm serious."

Zane adjusted his North Face coat, and pulled at the hood until he draped it over his head.

"We clearly didn't have a big wedding--"

"You refused to have one. So, we exchanged vows at the courthouse downtown. Dinner at a cool restaurant a few miles south from there followed." Zane looked at me. "The same night we flew out to Cabo for our honeymoon. That was a year ago today."

I slacked my jaw then wrinkled my brows. "What? Today is our anniversary?"

"Yeah, our first wedding anniversary."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

He shrugged. "You're dealing with a lot already. I just--"

"Oh, Zane." My heart felt heavy. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Regardless of the circumstances, we're spending it together, and that almost didn't happen. So, even if that means only having you here with your memory elsewhere, I'll take it."

I smiled.

After a brief silence, Zane said, "If you can remember the color of the wedding lingerie you wore our honeymoon night, then I'll accept you not remembering anything else."

"Why the color?"

"It's just significant." He beamed. "Anyway, re-telling the story of how we met and made this official is a beautiful trip down memory lane for me. So, I'm not complaining."

"You're a great guy, Zane. Seriously."

"That's because I have a great woman."

My eyes swept him from the hood over his head, to his eyes, over his nose, then finally settled on his lips. It wasn't uncommon for me to sleep with a man after barely knowing him, so it wouldn't be any different sleeping with my husband even if I couldn't remember him. Desire drove me more than anything else, and I never apologized for that. The urge to kiss him tugged at my heart. It almost pulled me to him. His hand soon found a home at the side of my coat's hood that was over my head. He slid his fingers over the curves of my ear and buried them in my hair. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. He moved closer in his seat, sliding next to me, only stopping when the sides of our thighs kissed.

Zane was eliminating even more space between us when his ringing phone interrupted us.

He grunted as he pulled away, and then turned to get the phone out of his pocket. Took one glance and silenced the call, shaking his head.

I cleared my throat and turned toward the beach again.

"Sorry about that," he said.

I turned to face him. "Work?"

Zane sighed while nodding his head. He leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out in front of him, lolling his head over the back of the bench.

"You know," I began, "you can go back to work, Zane. They need you--"

"You need me more."

"But--"

"Don't worry about them. Compared to you, everything else is a low priority, okay?"

I only blinked in response.

"I made that mistake already... putting my job first, and look what happened. You would have never had the thought to jump in your car and drive for miles during a snow storm if I was at home with you."

"Zane--"

He placed his finger to my lips, so I'd stop speaking. "Don't worry about it. The only thing I care about is you remembering me. Remembering us. Because what we have is so beautiful, baby. So magical."

I bit the side of my bottom lip and he moaned at the sight, which made me giggle.

He clapped his hand once and stood to his feet. "Let's get something to eat. How about Ethiopian?"

"Ethiopian?" I questioned. "Do I like Ethiopian food?"

"You do... after I put you on to it."

"Really?!"

"You were hesitant about it when I suggested we go there for our first date. But you're all about that YOLO life."

I grinned, searching with my fingertips for my YOLO chain that lay against my chest, beneath my coat.

"So?"

"Yes, let's do it. I'm ready to fall in love with Ethiopian food a second time."

"With me too?" Zane asked, his eyes locked with mine.

I nodded slow. "Definitely, with you too."

***

Zane and I hopped on the Q again, and took it across town to downtown Brooklyn. Although it was only my short-term memory I'd lost, it seemed like years disappeared from recollection when we arrived in the area I thought I knew so well. It appeared different. Construction everywhere, new high-rises erected or were in the process of being built. Buildings that were once there, gone, with only space remaining. More spas, Starbucks, and boutiques. I felt like I was in Manhattan instead of Brooklyn.

When we arrived in front of Azifa, the Ethiopian restaurant that, according to Zane, was my new favorite place to go, I was instantly in love with the outside. Orange and red French windows were the first thing to catch my eye. It was the only business in the area with brightly painted shutters. The moment Zane and I walked feet in front of the door to enter; I inhaled the delicious smelling food salting the air.

"Mmm," I moaned to myself.

I gazed to my left to see him grinning at me, as he reached to open the door for us. My eyes settled on the two bookshelf-like fixtures straight ahead, nailed behind a booth of seats. Those shelves held only Ethiopian red wines. Between the wooden structures was a stunning photo, a side profile of a black girl dressed in African garb.

The restaurant appeared simple but still chic. Wooden tables and chairs. The flame from tiny candles flickered in votive candle holders atop each table. Beautiful Ethiopian woven art laid flat against another side of the restaurant's bone-colored painted wall. Besides the plain wall, everything in the restaurant was brown.

Authentically, African.

"Ah, Desiree!" I heard a voice behind me. I turned in that direction to see a petite dark skin woman with close-cropped hair heading my way.

My eyes found Zane's and before I could say anything he told me, "her name is Serafina. She's the owner and adores you."

"I am so happy to see you again," Serafina said as she closed the space between us, drawing me into a tight hug.

"Uh, yeah. Hi Serafina," I said.

She leaned away and balanced herself on the arches of her feet to place two kisses on each of my cheeks. "Zane told me what happened. Your accident. Oh, sweetheart. I was wondering why you two were away for so long. You guys always come here every weekend."

I smiled politely.

"I know about your memory loss," she told me, guiding me to one table close to those orange and red windows. "Do you remember me? Be honest."

We stared at each other. And even though we'd just met... again, I cared. She was so sweet; my heart ached at just the thought of letting her know I knew nothing about her besides her name.

"It doesn't matter, because I remember you and know your favorites. We just finished grilling the veggies you love. Here." She gestured at the chair. "Have a seat and I'll get your waiter, Stefan, to take your order. But we already know what you will get. You get the same thing all the time." She winked.

I looked up at Zane who stood opposite me, peeling the sleeves of his coat down his arms.

"Zane," Serafina said, patting his bicep, "great seeing you too. Forgot to say that. Sorry."

He chuckled.

"Happy Valentine's Day and happy anniversary, loves."

I turned my focus on Zane. "How does she know it's our anniversary?"

"This is where we had our reception," he said with finger quotes. "After we exchanged vows at the courthouse we came down here with close friends and family to celebrate. It was great."

For a Wednesday, on Valentine's night, the restaurant had a lot of people. They occupied almost every table. If we arrived a moment later, we'd need to wait at least an hour to be seated.

The voices of patrons buzzed around us as couples and friends shared conversation and laughs over drinks and slow-cooked cuisine.

There were barely utensils used. I couldn't find any on my table. A quick glance around myself showed me the food was being eaten by hand.

"So..." I said, to get Zane's attention. "What do we order?"

He smiled. "You like to get vegetarian dishes when we come here, and I always agree to it because you want it and because it's healthier." Zane picked up the menu and turned it to face me. "This is usually our pick. The EngudaiTibs and Gomen."

"And what are those?"

"The EngudaiTibs is a dish made up of mushrooms cooked in thyme, ginger and onions."

I licked around my lips, and he snickered.

"That one is your favorite," he added. "And the Gomen are collard greens seasoned in ginger and garlic."

"Hmm," I hummed.

"All that comes with a little sauce-mix that drives our taste buds insane." He laughed. "I remember when I suggested we come here for our first date you were a little hesitant but because it was new, you were excited to try it."

"Sounds like me." I grinned. "Always wanting to live on the wild side."

He nodded. "And this place ended up being your favorite. Every weekend you want to come here and so do I."

Just as Serafina promised, our waiter Stefan was over to our table with his pen and pad taking our order. I asked for a glass of red wine to go with my meal. The shelf of wines enticed me to indulge in a sip or two.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to clean the subway and most of the day off our hands, Zane and I returned to our table to find the food we ordered placed at the center. And the aroma was amazing. As he pulled my seat out to sit, I gawked at the mushrooms and the medley of vegetables that laid around a circle of light-brown flatbread.

I leaned forward to sniff it, a habit, then sat back to make eye contact with Zane.

"What's this thing?" I asked lifting one side of the flatbread with the tip of my finger.

He pushed the sleeves of his sweater over his forearms then said, "Injera. It's what we eat the meal with. We could get some spoons and stuff for you to spoon the veggies. But traditionally," he said, flipping his hands back and forth, "we work with these."

I glanced down at the meal then up at him again. Not a second later I shrugged my shoulders, pushed back the sleeves of my hooded sweater and grabbed a piece of what I now knew to be Injera. I watched how Zane gathered the food, and I did the same. And when I took the first bite of this amazing meal, I closed my eyes and let the spices and sauces bathe my tongue in delight. The taste was divine. Nothing I'd ever experienced. The Injera was as thin as a crepe but tasted like sourdough, and together with the well-seasoned veggies, it was heaven on a plate. After a few tries, I'd gotten the hang of eating Ethiopian food. I became a pro at tearing-off a piece of the Injera, scooping food with it, rolling it up, then popping the whole thing on my tongue. I kept those motions on repeat until I leaned back in my seat satisfied and full.

"Wow," I mumbled through a stuffed mouth of food.

Zane laughed. He reached for his napkin then patted his lips with it. "Good, huh?"

"Beyond that." I closed my eyes to savor the last bits of food, licking my lips slow to gather any of the sauce that may have missed my tongue.

I opened my eyes to Zane staring right at me. He scanned me from my upper lip's cupid bow to my neck that peeked out from my Polo hooded sweater. His eyes settled on my cleavage. I'd let the zipper down just enough to get some air in the warm restaurant.

Zane's eyes met mine again as our waiter Stefan approached our table. We remained locked in our gaze.

"Can I get you two anything else tonight?"

We heard him, but couldn't break eye contact. I wasn't sure what Zane was thinking, but I was curious what his body was like underneath his sweater. We're married. So, that justified my curiosity, right?

I bit my bottom lip then turned away trying to hide my smile again.

"We're good," Zane finally said. I turned my view back on him and noticed his attention was still on me. He was visually undressing me, and the sight made my nipples tighten in my bra.

"Can I interest you guys in some dessert?"

Zane's eyes coasted over the curves of my breasts. He folded his lips in his mouth when his eyes met with mine again.

I smiled, and he smiled back.

He said, "No. I think we're ready for the check."

***

Zane and I returned home and spent the remainder of the evening just hanging out in the kitchen.

Our kitchen had become one of my favorite places to be after returning from the hospital. Zane told me being in the kitchen was always my thing. Cooking wasn't. He prepared most of our meals, since he genuinely liked to cook.

We'd both taken seats at the kitchen table when I spotted a bottle of wine, already uncorked, sitting in a corner on our counter.

I gestured at it. "I think I'll have a glass of that."

He turned to glance over his shoulder at where I'd pointed.

"Of vino?" he asked.

I nodded.

"You had a glass at the restaurant. You never have two glasses in one night. You're always saying how you're a lightweight."

"Well, I want a second one tonight." I smiled. "So, may I?"

He chuckled. "Absolutely. I think I'll have one too."

We sat there, taking slow sips of our wine while stealing glances at one another. The silence between us was refreshing, comforting. It pleased me knowing we could be around each other and communicate without words.

"What happened after Azifa?"

He grinned. "What do you mean?"

"Our first date. Did we kiss?"

He snorted a laugh. "We did more than that."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

Zane nodded.

"I did not sleep with you on the first date!"

A loud laugh left his lips which made me laugh too.

"After Azifa," he began, "I drove you to your apartment, and you invited me up."

"My apartment." I beamed. Now that place I remembered. It was a studio that sat atop a tiny restaurant. I loved it so much. I lived there for three years.

"You used to live over an Indian restaurant. It was a small place but just like you're creative with this house, you worked with the space you had in the studio. When we first walked through the front door of that studio, the first thing I noticed, and that I will never forget, is your place smelled like..."

"Curry," we said at the same time before laughing.

"Yes," I said through my laughs. "That I remember."

He smiled. "You got me up to your place by offering to make me coffee. We'd had wine at Azifa that night too and you believed I had a glass too many, and felt responsible in sobering me up."

"Oh, did I?" I grinned. "I must have really liked you because one thing I remember is I never invited most guys up to my apartment on the first date. The second maybe, but never the first although they'd always try."

"Well, Desiree," Zane said leaning toward me, "I'm not like most guys."

We stared at each other until he licked his lips, and my walls contracted in response. "So, then what happened?"

He smirked. "I never had coffee."

I giggled while shaking my head.

"You made the coffee, true. But it never made it into the mug until the next morning."

"Who made the first move?"

"You did."

I grinned.

"I'd taken a seat on your couch and you joined me. We waited for the coffee to brew. All it took was one look from me for you to move in my direction and climb on top. I couldn't resist."

I bit my bottom lip imagining what that looked like.

"It was..." He blew his exhale through his lips. Lips, I hadn't been able to take my eyes off since doctors and my parents introduced him as my husband.

"That amazing, huh?"

"The best," he whispered. He wet his lips again, this time slower. Zane leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on mine.

We sat there in silence, just staring at each other. I outlined his body with my eyes, visually devouring his physique once again, but this time willing and able to do what married people did. I'd held out even though I'd slept with men I knew less about. But there was something about Zane that made me want to give him the respect of remembering what we had. That we were in love. That we are in love as he put it.

He sat there patiently, allowing me to undress him with my eyes. Zane adjusted the seat of his pants so I'd get a better view of him expanding in his jeans.

I grinned at it, and then trailed my eyes up his abs, over his chest, past his lips to meet my eyes with his.

"How often do we make love?" I asked, letting down the zipper on my hooded sweater.

"Every day," he replied, watching.

I peeled the sweater down my arms. "Every day?"

He nodded.

"It's been a month."

"Thirty-six days to be exact," he corrected.

"So, your cravings must be insane right now?" I smirked.

He ran his hand from the top of his bald head to over his face. "More than you know."

I pushed my seat back, the legs of the chair scrapping lightly against the tiled floor. He turned in his seat to face me as I moved closer. I stood over him and he let gravity pull his head back. Our eyes met. Zane brought his hands to each side of my waist, and the moment he touched me, I sighed. His fingertips on me sent shock waves through my body, settling at the tip of my clit. I tingled. His grip was strong, something obvious by how fit he was. But his touch was gentle. Tender. He ran the palm of his hands over my hips and down the back of my thighs which he used to bring me closer to him.

I still stood over him, legs astride, when he encouraged me to lower myself on top of him. Our lips now mere inches away from each other, we stared in each other's eyes. And that was all it took for things to get hot between us.

He brought his hands to the sides of my face and slowly smoothed them past my cheeks, over my ears, burying his fingertips in my curly strands. I moaned at the sensation his fingers provided as he moved them through my hair. He pulled my lips closer to his and when they touched, a static shock between us made me flinch.

Zane leaned away. "Sorry, are you all right?"

I was breathing like I'd just completed a race. My heart racing like I was still running. Heat grew behind our clothes from our loins being pressed against one another sheathed. I couldn't take the wait any longer.

"Take me to bed," I told him.

Zane smirked then grabbed me by my legs, lifting me in his hands, and holding me up by my thighs. I crushed my lips to his and finally kissed him. He wrapped my calves around his waist, and then carried me into our bedroom.

We tongue wrestled the entire way there, and when we got behind the door of our boudoir, he pinned me against the wall.

Zane and I tugged and pulled at our clothes until they laid like puddles at our feet. There, only in our underwear, he turned me around, grabbed my hands and made me press my palms against the wall in front of me.

He kissed and sucked my neck while unclasping my bra. Pressed his torso to my lower back as his fingers hooked the sides of my panties. As he removed those panties, he moved with them to the floor, squatting behind me and helping me to slide them over my feet.

Zane turned me and pushed my back against the chilled wall and inched closer to the crease between my thighs. He placed his thumb against the top of my lower lips, lifting them high enough for him to find my pink pearl.

"God, I've missed you," he whispered, looking up in my eyes. He moved in even closer, so close he inhaled me as he teased me with the tip of his tongue. I leaned my head against the wall, and rested my hand atop his head, craving his next lick.

He lifted my left leg and placed it on his shoulder. Then he did the same with the right. With the support of his forearm beneath me, he stood up with me, sliding me up the wall with just the strength of his shoulders. On his feet, he buried his lips between my crease. I was so high up that wall I could press my palms flat against the ceiling. He licked and sucked, causing my legs to tremble and my back to arch under his control.

I held my breath as he rotated my clit with his tongue. He made me sit on his face as he turned me into his dessert. Each climax was like a blackout. And those blackouts served a purpose.

In bed, he climbed on top and slid right in. I lifted the back of my neck with his first deep stroke.

He whispered, "Baby, look at me."

I did, and nearly climaxed. He held my jaw still, staring in my eyes then pressed his lips to mine. Snaking in and out of me slow then quick, repeating the move to my satisfaction. He orally penetrated me. His tongue thrusts matched his in-strokes. He reduced my moans to cries of joy. Our lovemaking transitioned from a slow burn to a wild fire. I closed my eyes and he grabbed my hand. Another touch shock sent a charge through me that settled in my head.

Blurred visions of Coney Island appeared. Sitting on the Thunderbolt coaster, and remembering the first touch of his palm as we shook hands.

My walls fluttered, and my body became motionless. I held my breath and whimpered below him. Soon, a mental snapshot of us standing opposite one another, in a courthouse occupied my mind space. The smooth glide of a diamond eternity wedding band sliding down the length of my ring finger. The person holding it, Zane.

"Oh my God," I moaned. My back curved. Zane growled then angled up. His pace quickened. My body shook.

Images of a beach faded in. Two flowing curtains separating a room from the outside. Me standing over him removing a white linen dress to reveal a red lace teddy.

"Red," I whispered right before I allowed my body to submit to him.

I remembered.

How could I forget? I chose red for a reason. We decided on the hue together. Traditional white made us gag. There was nothing traditional or pure about our union. Red was more appropriate. It symbolized the fire we had between us. Our intense passion for each other. So electric, we bonded ourselves as one, so soon after meeting.

Zane pumped, and I swayed beneath him. I pressed my fingertips to his back and wrapped my legs around his waist, releasing the longest and deepest moan into his ear.

Another dose of ecstasy built within, and I gasped as it all came back. Memories flooded my conscience in waves.

I loved him.

I love him.

I'm in love with him.

Zane was my light. My joy. My reason.

I didn't just care for him. He earned my heart. We were more than just soul mates. Our souls were spiritually knotted as one.

My eyes shot opened, and I took a deep breath. On my exhale I whispered, "Zane, I remember you."

The End.

2018 (C) Brookelyn Mosley

Brookelyn Mosley

Brookelyn Mosley is an erotic romance writer who pens short stories and novellas with characters based in urban settings. Her writing focuses on the intimate encounters and emotional experiences of women today, through the use of vivid characters and relatable scenarios.

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# Expedition of Devotion

by

Nyikia N.

Photo Courtesy of @backfromthefuture2

--------

I desire you to touch me

More than just physically

In every conceivable way

Singular kisses along my soul

My spine

I arch them both for you

Fingertips amuse my exposed spirit

Wet kisses on mountain peaks

Waves of enthusiasm

Hit the motherland shores

Curving myself in ways

New possible

Capable, feasible

Your exquisite disposition steers me

Consumed fully by you

I am free

Hesitation once felt

No longer exist

Under the weight of my wish for you

I breathe you in

I feel free

Stay nearest to every part of me

Stand close to everything about you

I will do

Stay close

Just stay close.....

2018 (C) Nyikia Nixon

Nyikia N.

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Nyikia N. is a Writer, poet, blogger out of South Jersey.

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Follow Nyikia on Social Media:

Blog: <http://lifeandotherfunnyish.wordpress.com>

Instagram- <http://instagram.com/Ambitious.writer>

Twitter- <http://twitter.com/Nyikia_N>

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# Wanna Take a Swim

by

Wilberta Sanders

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He tapped me on my

shoulder and

whispered in my ear,

"I wanna take a swim in

your ~Vagina Canal~My Dear."

I said, "Come on Big Daddy,

I've been thinking about you all day;

My Heart is starting to race

 in anticipation of this "Lay"

(C) Wjs, 2017

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# Am I Dreaming?

by

Wilberta Sanders

Photo Courtesy of Jassir Jonis

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I'm Your Nubian Queen,

My Adoring King.

In Our own little World,

in your Arms I'm curled.

Hott and Passionate is Our Love,

blessed from God up above.

With a Love Sooo Sweet,

like a Bird I tweet and I tweet.

Without Your Love I'd become Astatic,

Sporadically breathing like an Asthmatic.

Is this Real or just a Dream?

As you lift me up in this River's Stream.

As I lay on your Chest Our Hearts beat as One,

I adore You My Love

as You are so Pure and Fun!!

I have truly found My Earthly Soul-Mate,

seconds away from You brings me painful heartaches.

(C) Wjs, 2017

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# Without You...

by

Wilberta Sanders

Without You, My Life Wouldn't Matter,

Life as I know it would be infinitely shattered.

You are so easy on the eyes and as I look into yours,

I see the shining mirror into your Beautiful Soul.

With Breath so sweet, I live to feel you and I live to smell you;

Dear God help me breathe.

My Sweet Love, You Whisk me away to a place of utter solace.

Inside of you I troll around your palpating heart that mimics

the familiar sound of the sporadic waves of the deep blue ocean.

Inside of you I feel the sizzling heat rising from your genitals

like a gentle and smoldering fire ready to feel the ultimate desire.

I see your sweet, sweet Spirit floating as easy as a Summer's lazy breeze.

From your mere essence I float and I float and

without your existence I would wither away....

(C) Wjs, 2017

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# Color Me with Love

by

Wilberta Sanders

Love is Gentle, Love is Kind,

A Beautiful Love Like Yours And Mine.

Love is Colorful and full of Hope,

let's explore the Love Scope:

Love is Orange like Our Fire that Burns Within,

Love is Yellow and I Truly Adore you My Cheerful Friend.

Love is White like your Delicious Semen,

Love is Red my Horny and Lustful Demon.

Love is Blue and I Appreciate your Loyalty,

Love is Purple and My King you are indeed Royalty.

Love is Green and I Admire your Growing and Forever Maturing Heart,

Love is Black signifying that Dreadful Till Death Do Us Part.

(C) Wjs, 2017

Photo Courtesy of H. Heyerlein

Wilberta Sanders

Wilberta Sanders is the Coolest Most Down To Earth Chick You'll Ever Have the Pleasure of Knowing. Teaching the World to Express itself, one Raw and Naughty Word at a Time. Her work has been featured on voicesnet.com.

Follow Wilberta on Social Media:

Facebook: <http://Facebook.com/WilbertaJacksonSanders>

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/Wilberta_Sanders>

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/wee68>

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# The Softness of Light

by

Nadine Tomlinson

Photo Courtesy of @11XIII_images

The Softness of Light

i

Soft is the light. It

traces the folds the way your

fingers read my skin.

ii

Soft is the space 'twixt

light and shadow. Find me there.

Your secrets are safe.

2018 (C) Nadine Tomlinson

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Nadine Tomlinson

Nadine Tomlinson is a storyteller, blogger, content creator, and published short story writer. She is writing her first novel, a speculative fiction tale with elements of magical realism drawn from Jamaican folklore.

Follow Nadine on Social Media:

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/naditomlinson>

Facebook: <http://facebook.com/NadineTomlinsonWriter>

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/nadine.tomlinson>

Pinterest: <http://pinterest.com/naditomlinson>

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# Honey Colored, Blue

by

Rashida V.

Love is beautiful. Love is ugly. Love is the blues. These are the life lessons Katrina learned from her parents and their love of The Blues. She watched as her parents loving marriage is almost destroyed by infidelity, but is rebuilt on love. Because of this she avoided relationships at all cost, that is, until she met Honey Colored, Blue.

Photo Courtesy of slim-emcee-ug-the-poet-truth from Africa photography

The first time I heard the Blues, I was 6 years old. My mother and father played one of B. B. King's records on a 45 inch vinyl record in our living room. I can recall them sitting back on that old multi-colored wool couch sipping Old English from Champagne flutes, like they were sexy. They were both young, brown, and in deeply in love. And, despite any issues they may have faced, my parents were bonded like Gorilla glue. It was a love, a young me could never tire of.

I guess my big head caught my mother's attention as I was gazing in awe of them. As soon as our eyes connected, mom wiggled the pointing finger of her left hand signaling me to come here. My dad smiled at me like always. I smiled back at my father before my mother reached down and scooped me up, placing me on to both of their laps. My father complimented the white flannel night gown I wore, adorned in blue and red flowers. He then began to slowly nod his head to the beat of the depression, coming from the old wooden Victrola record player. "You like the Blues baby?" asked my father, as if I knew what he was talking about. "What's da blues?"

My mother nodded at my dad with a quiet smile. "That's what you hear in that record player." I lied, immediately. "Yes! Sounds old but, I like it." Both my parents laughed in unison, and told me 'yes it was old', but asked me to take a listen anyway. Out of respect, I grew quiet in the moment, laid back onto my mother's heavy chest, and allowed the blues put me to sleep.

Dad put me in the bed later that night, but I could still hear the music flowing from somewhere in the back room as I slept. The Blues weren't my favorite at the moment, but I felt something in B.B's music that night...even at 6 years old. As I reflect, it may have been the first time I connected to anything other than my family and 1st grade friends.

The following morning, I rose to help my precious mother in the kitchen with breakfast. "Good morning, Ma!" I ran up to her for hugs and kisses after I washed my face and brushed my teeth. "Good morning baby. Go get your slippers. This floor is cold." I ran to the room to get my slippers, and hurried back to help my mother crack and whip the eggs, before buttering the toast to put in the bottom of the oven. I called it the steamer. My mother got a laugh every time.

"What was that man's name that yall was playing his song last night?"

"B.B. King," said my father, who was approaching me with a kiss. "Oh. Bean B. King?"

"No honey." My father chuckled....B.- B. King." My mother was frying a big batch of bacon as she laughed. "Ok. I want to hear some more, one day." Neither of my parents said a thing for a minute, before my father ok'd my request. I was elated.

We ate breakfast that morning, me, my mom, dad and my 3 brothers, while laughing and talking without a care in the world. Yet underneath it all, my parents were stressed about a few things but we didn't know. They handled their "blues," different than the rest because they never complained to us or anyone, for that matter. They did what Black fold did, and kept on keeping on. Their collective theory was: we were going to be alright anyway, like always.

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Growing and Learning More about the Blues...

Over the span of the next 7 years, I had grown to love music...especially, the blues. My parents had introduced me to: Ledbelly, Skip James, Bessie Smith, Muddy Waters, Gladys Bentley, Ada Brown and several others. For whatever reason, their music had captivated my young soul. Their stories and claim of unfair treatment and broken heartedness were understood by me. Not from a personal perspective, of course, but I was a student in their school of dealing with hard times. My siblings would call me old and say that I was ahead of my time. It didn't bother me much. I was proud of my old soul. No one would ruin that for me.

After some time, while I was growing and learning and living, my father had begun to find favor in a few women at his job as an auto detailer. One of them was named Fancy. It was easily understood why she had that name. She was a Black woman with big happy eyes and long black deep wavy hair that poked out wide and hung all the way down her back, nearing a super round rump, and perfectly shaped hips. For the last two years, my dad had been sleeping with this woman, and my mother knew all about it. Only, she couldn't leave my father. They had 5 kids, rent, a car and several other responsibilities. Plus, she loved him.

Sometimes while cleaning, my mother would sing straight from the words of ol Bessie's "A Good Man is Hard to Find."OOOOH A good man is hard to fiiiiiind!" And though I couldn't understand personally, I did objectively. See, my mother was crying out from the pit of her soul, for my father to do right. Though he was in plain sight, he never seemed hear a sound.

One day, I came home from school with my sister and brothers. I found my mother in the hallway of our apartment sitting up against the wall with her head in her lap. My oldest brother ran over to her. "Ma, are you alright?" She said yes. Only I could smell the beer on her breath, from 3 feet away. It reeked. She was trying to drink her problems away. Bills began to climb because daddy's new play thing needed her car fixed, hair did or a new necklace. She was always looking for something. Meanwhile, my mother was trying to make ends meet. Plus, she was missing her husband, mentally, physically...any kind of "ly" you could muster.

I stripped off my coat, and sat next to my mother, to reassure her that a change was gonna come. She faked a smile as I moved the 22 ounce of Old Gold, wrapped in a Brown paper bag, away from her. She didn't need any more liquor; just some music to soothe her soul. And so, I headed to the old record player, and put on some Sam Cooke.

Finally, my mother rose up from the hallway floor and met me in the kitchen, while I made a fresh batch of fried chicken, cornbread, Succotash and white rice for dinner. She didn't help me because I was now a professional cook. Instead, she sang along to Sam's sad music until she began to feel better...stronger.

Later that night, my parents were arguing when mother told my father that she was leaving him. My siblings and I cried when we heard the horrible news. We were all Daddy's precious ones. He loved his kids, just not our mother, properly. We didn't want him to go because we'd miss him. Only, mommy needed a break. For as she claimed: Love was no longer being served.

It was sad. After a strong 20 years together, their marriage appeared to have come to an end. But Daddy wasn't gonna let go that easily. He wasn't finished, as he put it. He was just a man in lust with another woman. He claimed that she was fun and young and full of energy. My mother was the exact same way. I guess Fancy was just younger and more shapely. Perhaps, Fancy was more sexual, who knew. Whatever it was, Daddy had found cocaine, shaped in a black curvy body, and grew addicted, while my mother grew tired.

Sometime after that, my father finally signed the papers for the divorce. He had already moved out of the house, and was living with Fancy. She was so happy to finally have her man. My dad was somewhere in between feeling happy and sad about his move. Not having his wife and kids around at his discretion was weakening him. Weary began to flourish inside of him.

Times had begun to get harder. Bills began to pile. This time, my mother was alone and needed help. So, my brother and I decided to find work. Fortunately, we both picked up part time gigs and helped out, financially. Favor had it that soon thereafter, she'd find a job as a Manager at a local Pathmark and bought her first car. We were so proud, as she began to find her groove again.

Further...

Although my father was no longer living in our home, he frequented for visitations. Sometimes he'd come by to pick us up, and stare at my mother for several minutes before taking us out for the evening. It was always hard for them to part. His heart was still there; hers was too.

One day, I was pulling a late shift at the record store. My mother showed up at 8:45 to pick me up. "Hey, Ma." I happily jumped into the front seat of the car. I was tired. Thankfully, my boss let me do my homework while I was at the store. It helped to cut down on losing too much sleep. "Hey, baby. I see you working hard. You are getting that homework done too, right?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Good. You know your dad came by the other day when everyone was out. He wanna get back together." I was reluctant. Fearful that he may hurt her again, I didn't say anything. "UHM," I manage to hum. "I'm thinking about taking him back. You know I love your father. He's the only man I have ever been with. We got 5 kids together. I think it makes sense. I still love him, ya know? Plus, we've never finalized the divorce!" I looked directly at my mother with sheer concern. "Aren't you afraid?" I asked in a concerned tone.

"Of what? Love. Shooo. Love is beautiful. Love is ugly. Love is the blues. You know that. Love is gonna feel good and hurt sometimes. You gonna learn that one day yourself. Trust me you will." I never said a word on the remainder of our ride home but, somehow I knew she was right. Only there was NO rush.

4 years later

It was nearing my 20th birthday when I first became interested in guys. I never had the urge to date because there were no daddy issues in my life. My father was always there. He took me on my first couple of dates, escorted me to 3 father/daughter dances, and I went to the Prom with my second cousin, Tariq. But as time went on, all of my siblings had started having love interests. I started to feel lonely at family gatherings.

My oldest brother told me to try to date. It was hard for me because I was the literal definition of an awkward Black female. If I wasn't reading or fantasizing about stories I'd one day write, I was feeding the homeless, and taking small drives around surrounding neighborhoods looking for homes I wanted to purchase one day. Other times, I volunteered at the local animal shelter. Maybe secretly, I was trying to steer far from that blues called love. Yet somehow, I knew the 'Jonesin' would one day come.

One day, my best friend Shantay called me up. "Giiiiiiiiiiirl, I got a guy for you! He is reeeeeeeal cute! I won't tell you his name. But, meet me and my boyfriend at his house on Friday, if you're not busy, and I will hook yall up. He's a good dude. Trust me!" Trusting her was the enemy. One time 3 years prior, she tried to hook me up with a guy that was 30, trying to pass for 19. That did not end well once my brothers found out. "Well, what does he look like?" I asked in an I don't really care attitude. "He is fine girl. Tall, like 6'2, slim built, honey-colored and uhm, just gorgeous. I think he can't wait to meet you either. He keeps asking about you." I secretly wondered how he even knew I existed, but I knew Shantay. She was always eager to hook me up. I'm sure she showed him my picture and so forth.

"Ok," I said reluctantly. "I will be there, but he BETTER be fine. Let me grab a pen to write down his address." I returned to the overjoyed voice of Shantay on the other end, and quickly wrote down the address. "Ok, it's 51 Willoughby Street. Ring the first floor doorbell. Be there at exactly 8 o'clock." I hung up scared to death. But loneliness wouldn't let me hide for much longer.

Friday came around quick. I made sure someone would switch shifts with me at work, and planned for a fun evening on my first real date. 6 o'clock rolled around quick. After a long shower, I ran to my closet and found a cute pair of tight jeans, red knee high shoot boots, a red belt and black fitted top covered in lace. After getting dressed, I applied my makeup, put on large gold hoop earrings, and pulled my long braids into a Greek goddess style. After 2 squirts of Curve, I ran to my car and headed to the quiet house that sat next to a building on Willoughby Street.

Parking was simple. I jumped out of the car, and headed for the thin gray steps. Slowly, I climbed 8 steps which felt like 50. My legs grew heavy with fear. I was excited and terrified at the same time. Who was this guy, really? He'd better not be a monster or I was going to kill Shantay. I reached up to press the first floor door bell, and waited for my bestie to greet me.

To my surprise, Shantay hadn't met me at the door. I was face to face with the most beautiful Black man I had EVER seen. When our eyes met, our souls stood still for a minute. "Hi!" I said, before I reached out a shaky hand to greet the man before me. "Hi!" he replied, before grasping my hand. The only things that stood out to me were his beautiful, deep story-telling aqua blue eyes. And though it was night and stars were high; I visualized palm trees, a high sun, and white sands form around his eyes. "My name is, Blue. It's nice to meet you Katrina." I gasped.

"It's nice to meet you, Blue."

Blue excitedly escorted me into his apartment. My best friend and her boyfriend sat on a long gray couch before a table with frozen drinks set upon it. Shantay stood to hug me and screamed with excitement in her voice. "I'm so happy you made it. Now, let's have some fun." We laughed and spent the evening playing cards and listening to hip hop music. I learned a lot about Blue that evening. He was the only child of a single father, whose mother died of Breast Cancer 15 years ago. He had no kids or a criminal record, and worked as a Computer Tech in a major company downtown. His life consisted of learning and shopping for fly clothes, as he had no major responsibility.

Blue was easy on the eyes. Soon, he'd turn out to be easy on the heart, until trouble would find its way in somehow. But, I was prepared. All of my Blues singers had already let me know the deal. Of course, I didn't want the pain I knew would one day come but, his eyes were worth every ounce of dismay I may have had to face one day.

So, this is the Blues my mother was referring to many years ago. That's what I said to myself the first time he stepped out on us, two years later. I wasn't personally experienced, but thank GOD for B.B. I was certainly ready.

2018 (C) Rashida V.

Rashida V.

Rashida V. is a published authoress by way of NJ. She was born a creative thinker, who developed the gift of poetry & short story writing. A woman God-kissed and blessed by the pen.

Follow Rashida on Social Media:

Instagram: <http://instagram.com/Authoress.rv>

Thank you for reading Love is Color. We hope you enjoyed our Anthology. If you did, please take the time to leave a review at the retailer where you downloaded it.

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# Acknowledgements

Thank you to everyone who participated in this project with me. This was my first endeavor in curating an anthology. The love and support I received from my fellow authors was amazing. You ladies will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for your cooperation, your time and patience. I appreciate the talent that each and every one of you holds.

My husband, Doug \- as always, you are my rock. Thanks for the encouraging talks and putting up with the long hours it took to put this together. You are my favorite color. I love you more than you will ever know.

A special thanks to our ARC readers. You all rock! We really appreciate your feedback.

Thanks to Chris Barbalis for the amazing cover photo.

