Short BWWM Books: Black Widow Finds Her Billionaire

bwwm books black widow finds Check out another one of Jamila's short bwwm books. If you enjoy pregnancy romance books and interracial romance books, you'll enjoy this excerpt from one of our best contemporary writers. This is an intriguing and highly erotic tale which will appeal to almost anyone interested in stories about black women and attractive white men. If you love alpha male romance tales and stories with strong black women, keep reading.

Widowed and desperate...

Aubrey is widowed and desperate for happiness that she doesn't think she'll ever find again. The walls around her heart are hundreds of feet high, and topped with barbed wire. Turning to the church to help her overcome her grief pushes her into the arms of a charming, white man, Will Waldorf, whom she begins to date.

Desperate to overcome her grief and her guilt, she decides to finally have sex with Will. Will seems to have very specific tastes, tastes that he needs satisfied. Aubrey takes the plunge, and satisfies her new dominant in every way she can. In doing so, she finds out a secret about Will that changes everything. Before she knows it, Aubrey has a baby on the way and a billionaire wrapped around her finger.

Grief is a funny thing...

Short BWWM Books: Black Widow Finds Her Billionaire Excerpt


My husband died a few years ago. We were high school sweethearts who got married when we both turned twenty years old. Demarcus and Aubrey. Our names were well known amongst our peers. We had been the perfect couple since we started dating, our freshman year of high school. We had always known that we were going to be together forever. When Demarcus was twenty-five, he was killed for testifying against gang members whom he had witnessed committing a crime. When I went to identify his body, in the cold disgusting morgue where the love of my life was desecrated, most of what I remember is the stench. And of course, the bullet holes -- three nearly perfect round punctures in his chest. I cried for the rest of the night and didn’t eat for two days.


Grief is funny. You’ll never really know how it will hit you until it hits you. I knew that I would never love anyone again after Demarcus. I knew that my life, was over. I am a God-fearing black woman, but I turned away from Christ throughout my darkest months, cursing him over and over again for taking away my one true love for no reason at all. I lost around thirty pounds during the grieving process and had turned to alcohol for much of my comfort.


It took me a full three years to get over his death. I was in my late twenties, self-weaned off of alcohol and fully committed to my faith. Yes, I still believed that I would never love again. Yes, I still believed that the only way for me to keep on going was to remain closed off to the world. I did not want to let anyone in because I’d seen how easily God could pluck friends and lovers out of my life, without a hint of remorse. Every day, I prayed for some end in sight. I prayed for some great happiness to sweep me off my feet, to help me forget the grief I felt over losing Demarcus.


Then I met Will.


At this point, I was five foot six and a little over a hundred and ten pounds. My thin frame didn’t mean that I didn’t have a good body on me. My rich caramel colored skin was soft to the touch with lightning strike stretch marks over my hips. My tummy was flat and firm, and I had medium sized plush breasts with chocolate chip colored nipples. My ass was as plump as it could be for a girl my size; my taut buttocks were my best feature according to some of my closer friends. I wore my natural afro textured hair in long ringlets down the center of my back, with the front pieces pulled back in a little clip. My eyes were hazel brown colored, with flecks of darker brown. A few months after Demarcus’ death, I’d gotten the letter. Everything about my appearance looked a little hollow since Demarcus’ death, but when I met Will, things were on the upswing. Getting out of bed no longer felt excruciating.


I was at a local church charity event, when a handsome white man walked up to me. I could tell immediately that he was wealthy. His walk, his mannerisms and his confident smile clued me in to his dignified status. “Hello, I noticed you standing over her and I just had to say hello. You’re one of the most beautiful women that I’ve ever seen. My name is Will Waldorf,” he said, sticking out his hand to shake mine. I extended my palm, gripping Will’s hand in a strong handshake, noticing how his strength exceeded mine. “I’m Aubrey. Thank you for the compliment,” I said smiling. It had been a while since a man had approached me, and even longer since I hadn’t immediately rebuffed him.


We got to talking and Will asked me out on a date. I was hesitant to say yes. “I lost my husband a couple years ago, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to give you what you want,” I said to him honestly. “You don’t know what I want. But we can take it slow Aubrey,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. I was sold and agreed to go on a date with Will. The date was magical. I hadn’t felt that kind of magic since Demarcus. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years, especially not with a man. Will was charming, polite and as he had promised, he took things slow with me. He didn’t kiss me at the door or pressure me for sex, but left like a gentleman.


After two weeks of dating, my feelings for Will started to get stronger. But so did my feelings of guilt. Would Demarcus, from beyond the grave, ever forgive me for loving another man? Will and I hadn’t slept together yet, but after two magical weeks, I began to crave it more than anything. My dreams were filled with Will, pressing his beautiful body into mine, kissing and biting my neck and plunging deep between my folds. These passionate dreams seemed to be intertwined with nightmares. I imagined Demarcus’ punctured corpse rising, and watching me as I made love to Will. In each dream, after he watched me make love, Demarcus’ corpse would plunge a knife into my body. I woke up before the tip penetrated my chest, often in a cold sweat and always unable to return to sleep.


Despite my guilt, I was determined to sleep with Will. Perhaps that would be the only way that I could move on. But I still felt like I needed some blessing to make it happen. And so, I did what every good black Catholic woman does, I turned to the church. After seeking counsel with nuns and the priest, they that although premarital sex was forbidden, I should not in fact feel guilty of wanting Will’s love. They advised that we get married first, but my religious counsel pointed me away from guilt. That sealed the deal. With God on my side, I felt entitled to the pleasures of the flesh with Will. If I loved him, it couldn’t be so wrong, could it? I couldn’t continue to deny myself happiness. That night, I had only pleasant dreams. My guilt ridden nightmares seemed to have finally ceased. I made the decision: I was going to fuck Will Waldorf.


He came over to my house, bearing gifts. Will brought me a beautiful white gold bracelet, fancier than any gift that I’d ever received. He hugged me and kissed me at the door. It was only the second time we kissed, but it felt amazing. “Will, I’ve made a decision,” I began shyly, “I think it’s time we take our relationship to the next level.” He raised his eyebrows, like he was uncertain of whether or not this was a test. “You mean sex?” he asked bluntly. I nodded. “Are you sure, Aubrey?” he questioned. “Yes, I’m sure,” I replied.

Will paused for a little bit and sighed deeply. What the hell? I had expected him to be overjoyed and to immediately pounce on me once I had admitted that I was ready to take the next step. I’d seen his bulge straining through his pants on our date. I’d seen the hungry look in his eyes when I would take my coat off at restaurants, revealing my naked shoulders and bare chest. “Aren’t you happy?” I asked, totally perplexed by his reaction.

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