bwwm romance novels

Dark Romance Books: American Alpha Soldier (WMBW Interracial Romance Novel)

American Alpha Soldier

A dangerous love story between a former racist on the path to redemption and a black woman skyrocketing towards fame.

An alpha male soldier with a dark past…

His dream woman, desperate for a gospel music award…

Their hearts weren’t prepared for a head-on collision like this.

A white man journeys towards healing and sheds his dark past by falling in love with an African American woman.

This page-turning ultra-steamy story of atonement, true love, kinky lust, and real redemption will change the way you think about interracial love.

Hi everyone! I have been working to make some changes and re-release my book previously published as Rock Hard Soldier under a different title. Finally, the book is ready and on sale. I have to warn you that this book has very sweet romance mixed with dark themes and if you feel sensitive regarding some of the explicit content in this book, you may not enjoy it. However, the sex scenes in this book are INSANELY hot and I promise you will be scouring bars looking for the military man of your dreams to take you home…

Keep reading here to enjoy the entire first chapter FREE. 👇


Talia leaned over the table, pressing her elbows into the table and squeezing her bosom together unconsciously.

“So how much time do you have left?”

“One last tour of duty. Not sure when.”

“Exciting. So you’ve been all over the world?" She probed.

He sat back and nodded, “All over the middle east at least. Spent some time in Africa.”

“Oohh, Africa. Sounds wild.”

“It was.”

“Well, Damian, I’m glad Imogen convinced us to get together.” 

Damian smiled at the woman sitting across from him. She was the one who’d needed to be convinced. From the moment his buddy’s wife, Imogen Henderson, had brought her stunning friend Talia out for drinks, Damian had been smitten. He’d only said a few, shy words to her, but he was desperate to find out more.

Imogen, eager to play matchmaker, had convinced Talia to see Damian beyond the group setting. Their first date had started off well.

“I’m glad too.”

Talia shrugged, “Though I can’t say I agree with all this war stuff. I’m more of a pacifist.”

“A pacifist?"

Talia nodded.

“I don’t think there’s a single conflict that we can solve better with violence.”

Damian smirked and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Well, we’re all entitled to our opinions, aren’t we.”

“Hey, no judgment,” Talia replied.

“So what about you? What do you do for a living?”

Talia shook her long, curly black hair out of her face. Her sparkly eyeshadow complemented the Ankara print on her dress. 

“I’m a singer."

“What kind of singer?”

“Gospel music. Jazz music. Anything that will pay the bills.”

“No way.”

“Yup,” Talia nodded, “It’s always been my dream to be a big star. Like Etta James. Or Billie Holiday.”

“I love Billie Holiday.”

“There's not a man I trust who doesn’t.”

Damian grinned. He liked Talia so far. A lot. She was on the thicker side, with a nice round buttocks and a set of breasts that he’d pay to suffocate between. Not like he’d be so crude as to say that to her out loud. Her skin, a reddish-brown ochre color had a deep, warm glow. Her smile lit up her face, carving out two dimples in her cheeks. 

Her patterned dress was loud and extroverted, in stark contrast to the shyness she displayed on their date. She was reserved but open at the same time, giving Damian the impression that she valued her honesty.

“So where do you sing?” 

Talia lit up once he asked her about singing.

“I started off singing in church. But then… I stopped going to church. Started getting gigs singing in bars. I put out an independent album and now my agent is working to sign me a record deal.”

“Wow. That’s…impressive?”

Talia shrugged, “Not really. It’s not like I’m rich or anything. But I hope to be some day.”

“Don’t we all,” Damian replied with a smile.

He continued to press her, “So this album, can I listen to it some time?”

“You can buy it,” Talia teased, “Lord knows I need the money.”

“I’ve never been a fan of gospel music.”

Talia clicked her teeth, “I have a feeling I’ll change your mind.”

Damian admired her confidence. She seemed to ooze it, especially when talking about singing. Hell, he could imagine she’d be a good singer too. Even her regular speaking voice was deep and sultry, with a slight rasp to it. He could just imagine how beautiful she looked with her mouth all twisted up, as high notes flew into the air. 

Talia could see him looking at her and she changed the subject again. She found Damian attractive, but she didn’t want to lead him to believe she was ready for something that she wasn’t. A man being fine wasn’t enough of a reason for her to let him in.

“Another drink?” Damian asked.

“Sure thing.”

Damian pulled a waiter aside and ordered another drink for the two of them. He leaned across the table and smiled at Talia. His blue eyes were widened with curiosity. As he smiled, Talia noted how perfectly straight his teeth were, how he smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and how his hair was a gorgeous ash brown color.

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“Then ask it.”

“How good are you at shootin’ pool.”

Talia smiled back.

“I’m pretty damn good.”

“Then you won’t mind if I challenge you to a game after we drink?”

“Mind?” Talia replied, “I’ll whoop you ’til next Tuesday. Won’t be much of a challenge.”

Damian chuckled.

“I love your confidence.”

Talia teased him by winking. Man, she was gorgeous. Where the hell had Dwayne Henderson been hiding a single woman like this from him for so long? It had been such a long time since Damian had been with a woman. Deployment meant there wasn’t much time for romance and when there was, it was usually brief and meaningless.

Now that he’d settled down for a while, Damian could see himself pursuing something more. And with Talia, he could definitely picture it. She was luminous, confident and charming. Her voice was magnetic too.

Their drinks came and Talia pounded hers back quickly. Damian followed suit. She stood up and sauntered towards the pool table.

“Get ready to have your ass kicked,” She teased.

Damian grinned, “Oh no missy, I ain’t about to let you whoop me.”

They grabbed cues and set the balls in the triangle. Talia leaned over the table and squinted one eye shut. She seemed to be making micro-adjustments. As she set up her shot, Damian couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to her body. Her bosom swung over the table, giant mounds of flesh that distracted him thoroughly.

When the cue cracked into the first ball, sending three solids into the holes, Damian snapped out of his reverie.

“Shit. Nice shot.”

“I know it was,” Talia replied, winking at him.

“You know,” Damian replied, “I’ve never lost a game of pool.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Not this,” Damian said cheekily.

“Have you always been such a flirt?”

Damian chuckled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Talia waited for him to make his shot. She was playing hard to get with him, but the truth was, she was trying to convince herself not to take things too far with Damian. In the past, most of the guys she’d dated had tried their hardest to get in the way of her career.

They’d seem OK with it up front, but when they realized just how much work Talia put into her singing and producing songs, they lost interest. Fast. If the guy was a particularly troublesome one, he’d try sabotage. Talia was wary around new guys. Damian was a bit different because Imogen had pleaded with her to give him a chance.

He was Dwayne’s buddy from Afghanistan and they worked out together three times a week. If Dwayne and Imogen vouched for him, that had to be worth something. Damian’s shot wasn’t bad. But Talia was convinced she’d still beat him.

She shot again. And missed. Badly.

“Damn it!” She swore.

Damian chuckled, “They let you sing gospel with that mouth?”

“I’m a singer, not a saint,” Talia replied, “And I really thought I had you there.”

“Guess I’m more of a challenge to beat than you thought.” 

Man, she was sharp. And Damian was finding himself more attracted to that than he expected. It wasn’t just her looks, her sharp wit or her charm. It was something more.

They played one round. Talia won. The smug look on her face didn’t bother Damian one bit.

“Round two?” He asked.

“Only after a shot of whiskey.”

“Gotcha.”

Damian was starting to feel the liquor. The slightly dizzy feeling plus the excitement he felt just being around Talia was starting to make him feel frisky. Damian ordered two shots of whiskey at the bar.

While Damian was at the bar, Talia leaned her weight on her pool cue, waiting for him to return. She knew she could beat him again. Talia was smiling so widely and so distracted that she didn’t notice the two men come up behind her.

“You usin’ this table?” One of the men grunted.

The two men were both taller than Talia. Both with protruding, globe shaped beer guts. One had black hair and the other was bald.

“Yeah. I’m waiting for someone.”

“It’s our turn,” the bald one said.

“Excuse me?”

The black haired one folded his arms and smiled smugly, “It’s our turn. So hand over the pool cue.”

Talia glared. 

“No.”

The black haired man started getting in her face when Damian returned.

“Do we have a problem here gentlemen?” He asked.

The bald one smiled, “We were just watching.”

They stood back and left Talia alone for the time being. With their arms folded, the two men stood against the wall watching. Talia tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling the men gave her. She had a sense that they hadn’t seen the last of them.

“Whiskey?” Damian offered. 

She took her shot.

“And you’re really okay?”

“Yeah. They were looking for trouble, but I don’t think they found any.”

“Good.” 

“Bottoms up,” Talia said with a smile.

Damian grinned and they tilted their heads back, consuming their shots of whiskey quickly.

“Mmm.” 

“Burns.”

“Ready for me to beat you again?” Talia teased.

“Hell yes.”

Damian was willing to let her beat him a second time. He was intoxicated just being near her. The liquor didn’t help. Damian watched as Talia leaned over to take her shot. Again, she looked perfect like this, all bent over with that look of hunger for victory beaming in her eye.

“Your staring is distracting me.”

“A man can’t help looking when he sees something nice.”

“Well try to keep it in your pants, okay?”

“No guarantees,” Damian teased. 

As Talia took her first shot, the two guys cheered and whooped in the back. Damian braced himself. He could tell they were looking for trouble from the moment he’d seen them start piling on Talia. For now, they’d held themselves back. But Damian didn’t know how long that’s last.

He took his first shot. Awful.

Damian stood up and cast a watchful eye at the men up against the wall. They were getting rowdier. At Talia’ next shot, they approached the table to whoop and cheer for her.

Talia was getting visibly uncomfortable. Damian turned to the guys and told them off.

“Why don’t y’all get away from this table.”

“It’s a free country sir. We’ll stay right where we are,” The bald one said.

It’s a date. Don’t give them the trouble they’re looking for. Damian tried to talk himself down from lashing out instantly, despite his urges.

Talia pressed her hand to Damian’s arm.

“Don’t worry about it. Ignore them.”

Damian was finding it hard. Talia was winning the game, whooping him badly. When she bent over to shoot what Damian was sure would be her last shot, the black haired man who’d been watching them waltzed over and smacked her on the ass.

Talia stood up, mouth agape. The bald headed man and the black haired man began laughing at the top of their lungs, their faces turning tomato red and beer spilling out of their pony-neck bottles.

“Did you see the look on the face of that monkey,” The black haired one laughed even harder. 

Damian couldn’t hold back any longer. He rushed towards the men. Talia grabbed his arm, trying to stop him.

“Damian! No! It’s fine.”

“To hell it is…” Damian growled. 

Damian walked over to the two men, getting into the taller one’s face. 

“Why don’t you two get away from here so I don’t have to get my hands dirty.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re gonna do to us?” The bald one grunted, cracking his knuckles.

“I don’t want any trouble. I just want us to be left alone,” Damian replied. 

He could feel his face turning red. He could feel blood boiling in his veins and that old desire to grab onto someone and bash their face in was running strong. Damian tried to resist. 

I’ve changed. I’m not gonna let one douche bag upset me. 

The black haired guy took a step forward, refusing to back down.

“It’s a free fuckin’ country and I don’t have to do shit that a nigger lover like you tells me.”

“What did you just call me?” Damian growled.

Bald head folded his arms with a cocky grin plastered across his face, “I think he spoke loud and clear. He called you a nigger lover.” 

"I already told you to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Damian growled.

He cracked his knuckles. He knew the type that these guys were. They’d fix their mouth to say anything, thinking that no one would have the guts to stop them. But Damian had already identified their weak points. He could see that the bald headed guy had a slight limp and that the black haired one was too drunk to take a punch. He was prepared to fight them off.

“It’s a free country mother fucker,” The bald one said.

“Please Damian, let’s just get out of here,” Talia pleaded.

She didn’t want this to escalate. But Damian couldn’t stand to sit back and watch somebody spit out the n-word like it was nothing. Damian wasn’t going to listen to her. There was a time to be the bigger man, but it wasn’t now.

He stepped up to bald head and swung. Bald head dodged the first punch but he didn’t see the second coming. Damian’s fist connected with his face and Damian kicked his feet out from under him. Bald head fell, hitting his head on the pool table first. Damian landed another kick.

“Damian! Damian, you don’t have to do this!” Talia screamed.

Damian was too overcome by his fury to stop himself. Hearing the man’s words echoing in his head stung. Rage blinded him. Damian stepped over bald head. He grabbed black hair by the caller and slammed him into the pool table. He bashed his head into it again and again.

“Don’t you dare say that word,” Damian growled, “Don’t you dare say it!” 

The bartender had finally noticed something was wrong. He had called a couple bouncers who were now making their way to where Damian was standing. He slammed the black haired man’s head one last time. Damian stepped back before the bouncers and the bartender had arrived.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Damian announced. 

Damian dropped the black haired man to the ground. He stepped over both of them and approached Talia.

“C’mon,” He replied, “Let’s get out of here.”

Talia was shaken. She followed Damian, grabbing his hand as they left the bar. The bouncers and the bar keep weren’t too perturbed. Damian had a feeling the men he’d run into were regulars — and regular troublemakers. While they expected him to leave, no one caused him more trouble. 

As Damian and Talia exited the bar, he shook his fist. Throwing a punch hurt. And he hadn’t thrown one in a while. He tried to abstain from violence wherever possible.

“Are you okay?!” Talia asked.

Damian nodded as they walked towards his car which was in a garage a few blocks away.

“Yes. I’m okay. But really I should be asking about you.”

Talia wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The weather was cool enough for a light jacket, but not cold. Still, she was shaken from her experience in the bar.

“I’m… fine,” Talia replied.

Damian shook his head, “I can’t believe those assholes. I know I shouldn’t have blown up. But I couldn’t help it.”

Damian paused and then held Talia still on the sidewalk.

“It’s not okay for people to treat you like that.”

“I know,” She nodded.

“Are you cold?”

“A bit.”

“Take my jacket. I don’t need it,” Damian said.

He took his jacket off and wrapped it around Talia. She fit nicely in the jacket, except for her breasts which prevented the jacket from zipping up all the way. Damian linked arms with her and they kept walking.

“Think they’ll let you back in the bar?” Talia asked.

Damian shrugged, “Probably not.”

“Y’know, I appreciate it. But you didn’t have to do all of that for me. I can handle myself.”

“I know. But why should you have to.”

Talia felt her heart flutter. She hated to admit it to herself, but she found herself painfully attracted to Damian. And while she considered herself a pacifist, there was something sexy about seeing Damian defend her. He'd meant it when he’d said those guys deserved it.

“Well thanks. I appreciate it."

“No problem,” Damian grunted.

They approached the garage.

“Second floor?”

“Yup,” Damian confirmed that she’d remembered correctly.

They walked up towards his car. Damian knew the night was almost over and he’d ended the date on a strange note. Those bastards…

Once they were outside Damian’s car, a restored 1973 Pontiac Grand Am, he stopped Talia.

“I’m sorry that things ended the way they did. I really am.”

“It’s fine, I swear,” Talia replied. 

“No. It’s not fine. When Dwayne told me that you'd actually go out with me, I wanted to make a good first impression. That… wasn’t it. You might think ‘cause I’m military that I'm here to play around. But I’m not.”

“Oh?”

“I’m looking for the real thing Talia. And you’re something… something very fascinating to me.”

“Fascinating? Well that’s new.”

“Sorry,” Damian muttered, “I’ve never been too good with my words.”

He took a step closer to her, forcing Talia to lean up against the Grand Am. The old car, the hot date, Talia couldn’t wait for him to kiss her. Damian started slowly, running his hands along her hips and sitting them right above her bottom.

“You’re beautiful Talia Sherbert,” He whispered.

“Thank you.”

Damian then leaned in, slowly, calculating each motion. He kissed Talia on the lips softly. His lips pressed against hers and their eyes both snapped shut. Talia reached up to touch Damian’s face. Stubble peppering his chin rubbed against Talia’ hand as she kissed him deeply. Damian thrust his tongue into her mouth and supported her as she leaned back against the car.

When he pulled away from her, Talia’ brown eyes were wide open. She looked… pleased. 

“I’ve been waiting all night to kiss you,” Damian muttered.

“Same…”

“Well c’mon then. Let’s not wait here any longer so that those guys don’t come looking for me.”

“Good idea.”

Talia got into the passenger seat. 

“So… Night cap?” Damian asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Wanna head somewhere else?”

Talia fidgeted in her seat like she was contemplating her answer. The truth was, she didn’t want the night to be over, but she also didn’t want to go anywhere else with Damian. The bar had been enough drama for the night. Plus, she was getting more tempted by the second to invite Damian back to hers.

“Why don’t I show you my place. I can play one of my records for you,” Talia blurted out.

She’d gotten ahead of herself. But she didn’t mind. Damian was hot. Smokin’ hot. And even if nothing happened between them but a few kisses, she had a feeling it would be worth it. Plus, he said he didn’t like gospel and she was determined to change his mind.

There was a practical reason for this. Of course. 

“Fine. We’ll go to yours,” Damian muttered, trying to hide his smirk.

For a pacifist, it was clear Talia was turned on by his display. That was the thing with good girls. They always went a little crazy when they bounced up with a bad boy. 

Damian gripped the steering wheel tight and listened to Talia give him directions to hers. As a moderately successful but not-quite-famous gospel singer, she lived in a nice part of town. It wasn’t too far from Damian’s place either. On the ride home, Damian flicked on the radio. Talia changed it to the RnB station.

Alicia Keys’ song No One came on. Talia started to sing every word. It was hard to stay focused when she was singing. When Damian heard her voice for the first time, he was mesmerized. Notes came out of her mouth effortlessly. Her voice had a type of power, a deep soul to it. Soul that put Amy Winehouse to shame. She was clearly a diamond in the rough as her voice was better than most living stars Damian could name.

She even sounded better than Alicia. As Talia sang, she rocked and danced along with the music. Damian could see it written all over her face: her music brought her joy. It was hard for him not to be infected by it. When the song was over, Talia was all smiles.

“Whew! I love that song,” She said, beaming from ear to ear.

Damian was mesmerized. Drawn in by her intoxicating smile and her liquid gold voice, he couldn’t help but hope another song came that would bring Talia out of her shell and cause her to belt out another beautiful tune. But the last few songs before they arrived at her place were dull, unchallenging to her vocals. So Talia was quiet. But still gorgeous.

Of all the time Damian had spent with her, being alone with her had been the best. She’d morphed from “Imogen’s friend” into this full, complex woman and there was so much more he’d noticed about her that had nothing to do with her looks. And well, her looks were magnetic too.

Talia had noticed him looking at her. She noticed the way his eyes tried not to stray to her breasts, yet remained inexplicably pulled there. She noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel tighter when she sang and how much Damian Buckley seemed to be holding back.

Don’t hold back. She wanted to tell him. I feel it too. And I want you…

Talia was far too timid to say this all out loud. She’d wanted Damian from the second Dwayne Henderson had brought him to the bar a few months ago. All that dancing around each other and casual flirtation had finally led to a real date. And even if Damian was no stranger to her, this was all still very new.

It had been a while since Talia had poked her head up from work to notice a man, much less go on a date with one. And Damian wasn’t just a man. He had a stable career, albeit, one she disagreed with. He was athletic, spending hours in the gym with Imogen’s hubby. He had gorgeous blue eyes and a woody, leathery scent to his cologne. 

When they pulled up at her place, Talia felt nervous. If she’d jumped the gun with him, she’d feel like a fool. She still couldn’t tell how Damian felt about her. He felt strongly enough to take on two drunks in the bar, but how far did that extend? What if he was just being a gentleman? And when he found out how much she put her work above everything else, would that turn him away?

He parked the car.

“Your home is… massive.”

Heat rushed to Talia’ cheeks. She’d started off her career renting out a basement bedroom with mold so thick she’d developed permanent hay fever from it. This house was a recent upgrade, and one she was barely comfortable with.

“Thanks.”

“So… Gonna play me one of your records?”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about coming in.”

Damian leaned over. His face was close to hers, like he was going to kiss her again.

“Trust me… I haven’t changed my mind.”

He pulled away and opened his door, stepping out. Talia exhaled. Damian barely said much, but when he did say something, Talia found herself wanting to know more. For a military guy he seemed more reserved than she expected. All the army guys that Talia had known from high school were loud douche bags. Nothing like Damian.

He was hot and he wasn’t a dick. Not in the least bit.

There was something behind his eyes that told her he’d seen a lot in life. But what was it? What was it that pulled her in, compelling her to know more, compelling her to take a risk for him?

Talia opened the door to her house and flicked on the light. She saw Damian looking around, trying to hide how awestruck he was. She’d looked the same when she’d first walked into the place and when she was first hit with the realization that she could actually afford to live in a place like this.

Crisp minimalism defined Talia’ house. She didn’t have much furniture and nearly everything inside was a stark ivory or a cool grey. Damian was surprised. Given Talia’ colorful outfits, he expected her place to be louder. 

In her living room, Talia had a white shelf, filled with records. Some of them were bargain bin jazz records from the 1960s. Others were brand new. Her Beyoncé record was propped up on the top of the shelf, against her brand new record player. Talia saw her display catch Damian’s eye.

“Everything sounds better on vinyl.”

“Oh really?” Damian replied.

Talia nodded, “If you don’t listen to records, you should start.”

Damian chuckled. He’d never met anyone as passionately into music as Talia was. Her record collection was beyond impressive.

“Got any rock’n’roll?” He teased.

“Of course!” 

Damian raised his eyebrows. Talia was full of surprises. He didn’t mean to hold onto prejudice, but he didn’t know any black women who were into rock’n’roll.

“What’d’y’got?”

Talia had everything impeccably organized. On the middle left hand side of her shelf, she flipped through her rock collection.

“Zeppelin. Beatles. Grateful Dead.”

Damian chuckled, “You listen to the Grateful Dead?”

“Why not?”

“You’re full of surprises.”

Talia ignored his request for the Grateful Dead and instead just flicked on her Beyoncé album. Pretty Hurts started to play. Damian had never heard it before. But it was an album Talia had heard a million times. As she swayed to the music, preparing herself to match Beyoncé’s notes, she felt Damian approaching behind her. He was close now. So close she could feel his warmth.

Talia turned around abruptly. Her logical brain made one last dash to save her from her impulses.

“Maybe… Maybe it’s getting late… And you should go now.”

Damian took a step closer to her.

“Is that what you want?”

Talia tried to hold true to herself. 

“Y-yes,” She whispered.

“Is that what you really want,” Damian replied, firmly.

His hands reached around her hips as he asked. He squeezed her tightly and kept his blue eyes locked to hers. His eyes were fierce, filled with the fires of his lust. He licked his lips like a lion about to pounce. Talia could feel her will getting weaker. Damian was fine. Far too fine. She’d made a mistake letting him this close.

There was no saying ‘no’ to a man like him.

“Yes… It’s what I want.”

Damian smirked, “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” Talia sassed.

“Because… I think you’re dripping wet. And I think what you really want is to feel my big cock sliding between your thighs. I think you want to cry my name out and sweat that gorgeous hair out ’til the sun comes up.”

“What if you’re wrong?” 

Talia knew how weak she sounded — how unconvincing. 

“I’m not.”

Damian leaned forward and kissed her. Talia wrapped her arms around him and kissed back. Damian pressed her body up against the wall. Her back tapped the wall with a gentle thud and she flung herself head first into kissing him. Screw it. His lips were baby soft. Each kiss was more tender and deeper than the last.

He was right. Talia could feel wetness pooling between her thighs as her desire for him heightened. Damian’s fingertips pressed against Talia’ skin. Fire surged through her body as he touched her. He pulled away from her for a moment and eyed her body.

“I want you…”

Talia took Damian’s hand and started leading him to her bedroom. She wanted him too, but not here.

“No,” Damian stopped her, and grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him.

“Here,” He growled, “We’re doing it here. Take your clothes off.”

His dominance made Talia wetter. She was used to being in control. At work, she called all the shots. On the stage, she was the center of the show and the center of attention. That’s what she was used to. And in one night, Damian had upended her need to maintain control.

Talia started to pull her dress up over her head. She pulled the printed dress up over her curves and struggled to get them over her large breasts. Once she was before Damian in her underwear, she felt a mix of vulnerability and excitement. She tried to cover her body with her arms.

“No. I want to see you… every last beautiful inch.”

Talia reluctantly let her arms down to her side.

“Fuck… It makes me so hard just looking at you.”

Damian rushed her again. He planted kisses on her lips and neck as his hands ran all over her curvaceous body. He squeezed her hips and her round buttocks and pressed his chest against her breasts. He couldn’t wait to get one of those supple blackberry nipples in his mouth. 

“Mmm, take your panties off,” Damian growled.

Talia took her panties off, exposing her plump, shaved pussy. Damian reached around and unhooked her bra with one swift motion. Talia shivered as the cool air of her living room teased her nipples to hard attention.

“Perfection,” Damian muttered. 

He bent his head to Talia’ nipples and took one into his mouth. Her bosom was warm and her flesh had a gentle vanilla scent. Damian knew he’d have to be gentle with her. The gospel singer with the molasses voice had flushed skin as he touched her. When he kissed her neck, she turned her face away ever so slightly. She was nervous to be like this in front of him. 

Damian planned to change that. He led her over to the couch and bent her over the arm.

“Stay put,” He commanded.

Talia stayed still, quivering as she felt Damian kneeling between her legs. He splayed her thighs apart and dove his nose between her legs. Mmm. Damian inhaled the scent of her freshly shaven pussy and then pulled his face away. Talia had never felt so exposed before, but heat curled down her spine as Damian’s face returned between her thighs.

He spread her pussy lips apart with his fingers and began to kiss all around her thighs, diving his tongue between her pussy lips only so often.

“Mmm, you smell amazing,” He groaned.

Talia shuddered. His lips flicked across her pussy lips again. She buckled, leaning against the couch with all her might. Damian squeezed her thighs and drove his tongue between her pussy lips. He lapped at the full length of her lips, tasting every inch of Talia’ flesh.

“OHHH,” She cried out as his tongue grazed her clit.

Damian began to lick at her folds with more vigor until her knees buckled and her thighs quivered in pleasure. Talia moaned and squeezed her eyes shut as a climax drove her body to orgasm. It was true what they said about white men…

Talia had never had her pussy eaten so passionately before in her life. Damian seemed to enjoy dipping his tongue into every fold and tasting every inch of her plump pussy. When he finally pulled away, her thighs were dripping wet and she was more than ready for him to take his cock and shove it into her.

Damian stood up and fished a condom out of his pants. He stripped naked and rolled the condom onto his dick. Talia glanced backwards, catching her first glimpse of Damian’s naked body. His physique was far more formidable than she imagined. Every inch of his body was pure, cut muscle. His hours in the gym had been well spent. 

Damian’s physique wasn’t the only thing impressive about him. His hardness protruded from his body like a monument. His thickness and hardness looked like it would stretch her wide open. Talia tried to hide her surprise. Damian had been so humble, that she’d never even thought about what he’d be packing between his legs.

But he was big. Really big. She braced herself against the couch as he positioned his hardness behind her. Talia was dripping wet and eager for pure pleasure. She was here for a good time with a good guy and so far ‘good’ was just the beginning of what she felt.

Damian began to press his hardness between her thighs. Talia gripped the couch and grit her teeth as he began to press inside her. His dick head sliding past her entrance was an instant mixture of pleasure and pain. Her knees buckled again and she wriggled her ass to allow him better access to her wetness.

As he pressed into her tight wetness, Talia moaned. Damian felt her pussy gripping him like a vice as he slid between her lips. It was a tight squeeze. Talia cried out again as he pushed his dick halfway in. He gripped her voluptuous hips and thrust the rest of his dick inside her with one swift motion.

“OHHH,” Talia cried. 

“Mmm,” Damian moaned.

He began to thrust into Talia’ tight little love hole. She gasped as his hardness stretched her wide and he started to pound into her furiously. Damian was pounding her pussy hard and fast. With each stroke, Talia could feel fire rising in her chest. Her heart raced and her skin flushed as she drew close to climax.

Damian continued to pummel her, stroking her soft ass cheeks and gripping her hips as he pounded her ferociously. As a big orgasm overcame Talia, she bucked her hips back. Her pussy exploded and juices flowed all over Damian's hardness as her wetness clamped down on his cock, throbbing as the waves of orgasm washed over.

She whimpered and gasped as Damian kept pounding her, close to a finish of his own. Her long hair was stuck to her neck as Damian kept pummeling her wetness. He was getting close too, Talia could sense it. Damian let out a loud groan as he finally finished.

He grunted with his cock buried inside her, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body. Damian pulled his dick out and then took his condom off, tossing it into the trash. He returned to the couch, fully nude, as Talia lay on her back, gasping for breath.

She turned to look at Damian who smirked mischievously.

“I can see you enjoyed yourself.”

Talia nodded weakly. She could tell Damian would be eager for round two, but she needed to catch her breath. Damian walked over to her and pulled her up off the couch.

“Round two is in the bedroom…”

“You can’t be serious,” Talia said with a grin.

(She was hoping that he was.)

“Oh, I’m serious. And if you don’t get up… I’ll have to carry you there myself.”

Damian reached for her and Talia playfully swatted his hand away.

“I can get there myself.”

“Perfect. Now which way is it?”

Talia stood up and grabbed Damian by the hand, leading him to her bedroom. Her bedroom was just as tastefully decorated as the rest of her house with a giant, four poster king sized bed sitting right in the middle.

Lace white curtains framed the windows in the room, giving it a sensual and feminine look. Just like Talia. Damian leapt onto the bed first and Talia followed. She kissed and caressed his hair and then his back. She trailed kisses down his back until she came to his lower back.

The tattoo was small but it caught her attention immediately, pulling her out of the moment and turning her stomach.

It sat right there on his lower back. The six lines, twisted into a shape that represented hate, genocide and white supremacy. Talia had just made love to him and she felt sick.

With a shaky voice, she asked, “What the hell is on your back?” 

* * *

🇺🇸HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! 🇺🇸 I published this day to celebrate BBQ, cookouts, family time and all the other awesome times we have on this holiday. This BWWM military romance is not heavy on military action but you’ll find steamy hot scenes that will rile you up for an incredible holiday weekend.

The book has so many twists and turns you won’t even be able to predict from this sample. Luckily for you, the book is live NOW and you can get your copy easy as pie on any eReader platform of your choosing.

CLICK HERE TO BUY THE BOOK DIRECTLY FROM JAMILA JASPER

CLICK HERE TO BUY THE BOOK FROM AMAZON, IBOOKS, KOBO, NOOK, ETC.

Romance Novel Excerpts | Book #7 | Parisian Billionaire Brotherhood - Interracial Billionaire Romance Novel

Romance Novel Excerpts | Book #7 | Parisian Billionaire Brotherhood - Interracial Billionaire Romance Novel

Romance Novel Excerpts | Book #7 | Parisian Billionaire Brotherhood - Interracial Billionaire Romance Novel

BWWM Books | Mr. Too Big (BWWM Hitman Romance Novella)

mr. too big billionaire hitman romance novellaMr. Too Big, a steamy hitman novella came from an idea that I had while talking to my husband. Yes, it sounds corny but it's true, my HUSBAND inspired "Mr. Too Big". Infer what you will from that one! I couldn't wait to get the novel written and I actually had it done two weeks before I published it. I had no idea what to do with the book and my mind was RACING with questions...

Will my readers like this book?

Is this book good enough to publish?

Will the kinks in this book be "too raunchy" for Amazon?

I can tell you right now that the book is HOT. It's almost too raunchy for Amazon. Oops. I guess I couldn't help myself. The book was definitely good enough to publish and to this day, I get emails about Mr. Too Big from readers who were pleased to stumble across my steamy novella. Sometimes it's better to believe in yourself than to cloud your head with doubts...

I don't want to spoil too much of this story for you, but let's just say our hitman JAY will have you drooling. I know you need a new book boyfriend, so dive into the sample ASAP

BWWM Books Novella Sample: Mr. Too Big

Jay 

One more job, and then I was out. 

Isn't that what they always say in movies, right before the shit hits the fan?

I guess maybe it was only too appropriate, then. Because things were about to go down for me like they'd never gone down before. 

As I would soon find, I'd gotten far too big to try and pull out now... 

I sat across the street from a towering skyscraper in the middle of downtown, outside a small cafe. In another lifetime, I would have been sitting with a newspaper pressed against my nose, trying to look inconspicuous in order to hide what I was really up to. These days, though, a guy like me reading a newspaper would have stuck out like a sore thumb- six foot one, jacked and rugged, occupying his time with a relic of the previous century. 

So instead I sat stooped over an iPad, blending in a lot better that way, a set of shades concealing my persistent glances toward the building on the opposite side of the street. I kept pressing my earpiece closer and closer like there might be something going on that I was missing. I'd bugged my target's car, then watched as he and his bodyguards made their way out into the building in question. I knew there was nothing that I should be listening for, but I guess I was just a little bit on edge. 

This was the job to end all jobs. The payday that was going to get me out of this shit once and for all. And I was going to do everything in my power to ensure that it went off without a hitch. That any one of a million different things didn't manage to fuck it up for me. 

I'd been following my target around for weeks, hoping to gain some insight into his schedule. A mister Ray Philips, one of the most contemptible sons of bitches I'd ever been assigned to take out. Day trader. Arms dealer. A major player in the pharmaceutical industry, who'd made a fortune jacking up drug prices for those who were most vulnerable, and most unable to afford them. 

I'd never been proud of how I made my living. It wasn't that I'd chosen the life of the assassin, so much as it had chosen me. Having enlisted as a soldier and seen things that no man should see, and doing things that man should ever do in good conscience, I found myself unable to reshape myself into the mold of a healthy, everyday life. The violence was in my blood. My soul craved peace, and a reprieve from all the horrors I'd witnessed and been a part of. But I still needed to make money, and at the end of the day, I realized there was really only one thing I'd ever been good at. 

I worked for a man called Hillary. Marlon Hillary. A rich jackass in his own right, he'd kept me around as his gun for hire for the past five years. I took care of his enemies for him. The business rivals who posed too much of a threat. Those who were willing to get their hands even dirtier than he was, and who seemed as though they might serve as a problem for him in the long term. 

I harbored no delusions about what I did. I was a murderer, pure and simple. But at least in this position, I had some say over who bit the bullet. I could say no to a job if I had to if my conscience started objecting too loud, unlike in my previous line of work. 

I did have a moral code, even if it wasn't much of one. I'd always refused to take out the innocent. To hurt anyone who didn't have it coming, and then some. I'd turned down a few high profile clients who'd requested such services of me- asking me to kill men and women who, obnoxiously wealthy and corrupt or not, had done nothing worthy of the death sentence that had been asked of me to impose upon them. 

I'd lost a pretty penny that way over the years, believe you me. I could have been done and out of this game by now if I hadn't shown such restraint, but here I was, still in the game, and only just now on the threshold of getting out of it. 

I didn't even want to think about how much of my soul I would still have left by the time I finally did get things wrapped up...

Thankfully, this Ray Philips was like the best of both worlds to me. He was both rotten to the core and worth a fortune in my pocket- easily the largest bounty I had ever made an effort to claim. 

Then, at last, the moment I'd put the bullet through his temple and washed the blood from my hands, I had plans to pack up my fortune, buy a first class ticket to Belize, and leave this life forever, spending my remaining time on earth making my best effort to forget that any of it had ever happened. 

Not that I would forget. 

I could never forget all that I'd done. The sins these hands were responsible for. The lives they'd taken. But at least, for once, I could try to rest. I could lay my head down in contemplation, and try to figure things out for myself. What I was meant for. What I was put on this earth to do. If, indeed, I really had any business being on this forsaken rock at all. 

The only problem right now with my ingenious plan was that Ray Philips didn't seem to stick to any kind of reliable schedule that I could make out. All the days I'd been following him, I had hoped to take note of a recognizable pattern of some kind. Something that would make it easy for me to catch him when his guard was down, and when I stood the lowest possible risk of getting caught. 

But of course, I really should have learned by now, nothing was ever really that easy for me... 

Apparently, having his fingers in so many pies at once kept Philips as busy as a bee, flitting from one flower to the next, his movements erratic, unpredictable. He must have done enough coke to never have to spend ten consecutive minutes asleep at a time. 

And so, I decided, I was just going to have to take the plunge one way or another. 

I made up my mind that today would be the day. I was ending this, tonight, as soon as he was at home and, with any luck, asleep. 

And then I was out of this, at long, long last. 

I'd lapsed into a reverie in the heat of the early evening sun, and let my vision fall out of focus without meaning to. I jerked awake at the sound of static in my earbuds, then footsteps clacking across the sidewalk toward the Mercedes in which Philips had been driven here. 

“Okay, men. We're done here today. If Esposito doesn't want to listen to reason, I'll just take things into my own hands. I'm done playing games with such a goddamn child. Now, take me the fuck home, I need some rest. I haven't slept a fucking night clear through this entire goddamn week.” 

So much of the time I kept my cool so well. Now, though, I let myself get too excited. I leaped up from my chair without meaning to, keen to follow after my target, even though there was no imperative need to do so just now. I knew where he was going. I should have waited a while instead of trailing them too directly, but I wasn't thinking. 

Across the street, Philips didn't notice me. Nor did the large, thuggish bodyguard opening the back door to the Mercedes for him. The one at the driver's side did, however. 

Through two lanes of heavy evening traffic, my eyes met those of the driver through his shade, making my heart skip a beat. 

Damn it... Damn it... Damn it! I thought to myself, freaking the fuck out that my cover was about to be blown at best, and that at worst I was about to wind up with a bullet in my own head. 

I thought fast, though, trying to minimize the damage. 

I stretched, as though my eyes meeting those of Philips' brute had been nothing more than a coincidence. Then I took the last sip of my coffee, and laid some money on the table, as though I'd become totally oblivious of all that was ensuing on the other side of the street. I sorted out some change from my pocket and left a far too generous tip for the young woman who'd brought me my coffee- if this worked like I hoped it would, it might have just been her that ended up saving my life. 

Then, keeping up the charade, I set off down the street, away from the Mercedes, away from where my bike was parked nearby, striding as though I knew exactly where I was going, and why I was going there. I really had no clue, except that I needed to get as far away from Philips as I could, as fast as possible. 

I didn't dare look back over there again, back over to the building where Philips had been. I did, however, squint into the glass windows of the building I passed on my side. The knot in my stomach unclenched at the sight of the Mercedes pulling away, the bodyguard's suspicion of me evidently minimal enough for him to let me off the hook. 

I let out a sigh of relief and decided I would circle the block once for good measure. 

There was no rush to get to Philips this instant. I would wait until tonight when conditions were more favorable, and then I would end this, once and for all. 

I could almost taste the fresh air of freedom on my lips... 

_____

Midnight. 

I'd parked my bike in the woods outside Philips' mansion several hours ago, then hiked over to a spot overlooking his place. I'd watched his house through the scope of the rifle I carried with me until every light had gone out, and a vehicle had pulled away out the driveway- the vehicle, I hoped, of Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, his bodyguards. 

I couldn't be certain that Philips was the only occupant in the place but now felt like as good a chance as any. At that moment, it honestly felt like my only chance. 

I crept down to the house like a phantom, switching instantly into combat mode. I'd learned to turn off all of my inhibitions, to cast aside all of my doubts whenever the moment of truth arrived. I was no longer a human being anymore. But a machine. My actions swift and decisive. My decisions, my responses, purely rational. Dedicated to getting a job done, and nothing more, nothing less. 

I pushed a fist through the glass panes of his front door, and made swift work of disabling his security alarm- I'd cracked the code the previous week while he was away one afternoon. I stepped through the door with soft, but speedy footsteps, and glided my way up the spiral staircase for the second floor, heading for his master bedroom. 

I was normally so good about all of this. So skilled at making an entry, and doing my job, and disappearing without a trace. As I made my way down the hallway, however, and the door to his room came closer and closer, and so did my freedom, I felt my blood pressure rising. It all seemed too good, too perfect to be true. 

And suddenly, I realized that it must be. 

Something wasn't right... 

I stopped, dead in my tracks. 

I didn't know what was off. But something was. There was just a sense of it. A feeling in the air, that I couldn't quite seem to put my finger on. 

And then I heard the sound of a footstep, trying to be lighter than it could manage to be from around a corner. 

I spun on my heel, whirring back around in the opposite direction. 

I saw the flash of light before I heard the sound. 

BAM! BAM!

I hurled myself down to the ground as the bullets missed me by nothing greater than a few millimeters. Once I was to safety, I didn't even think about it. I lifted my gun up to what I calculated to be the man's knees in the darkness, and I fired. 

“Jesus Christ! Motherfucker!” 

He shot at me again as he was falling, but only managed to hit a vase atop the stand beneath which I'd taken cover. He hit the ground like a timbered tree and was already rushing to point the barrel of the gun back up at me, but I was too fast for him. 

I pointed at his head and fired, and that was the end of him. 

He lay there, motionless in silent in the middle of the hall. I waited, for just a fraction of a second, long enough to be sure that he was as dead as a doornail. Then I sprang up, and rushed over to him, and saw that it was the man from the Mercedes. The one who'd locked eyes with me across the street.

Clearly, the place hadn't been left as unguarded as I'd hoped. 

I'd largely been suspecting that, though. 

I let out a light sigh, not wanting to let myself be too relaxed just yet. My gut told me that this was the only guard in the place, but I still had Philips left to go. And something told me he would be on a high alert after I and Tweedle-dee had just made enough noise out here in the hallway to summon up the living dead. 

I hastily weighed my options at that moment. 

Retreat? Fuck no. 

I was getting this job done, dead or alive. 

Wait? For what? For Philips to have more time to get his guard up? To call the authorities? Not that I imagined he would, given the many dirty dealings he was connected to in some way or another. Still, though, the principle was the same. The longer I let that son of a bitch stay alive, the longer he had to come up with a plan to stop me. 

Time was of the essence here, and whether I liked it or not, I was all out of time... 

I stepped up to his door, staring at it for a moment with dread, instead of the naive optimism I'd allowed myself to feel at the sight of it, only a few short moments ago. 

I lifted my hand to the knob, and almost made the mistake of stepping inside. But then I checked myself. I twisted the knob, just enough to get it started. Then I stepped off to the side so that I was no longer positioned directly within the doorway. I lingered for a moment, then pushed my foot against the door's lowest panel, kicking it open from off to the side, still standing next to the hinges. 

Immediately once the door was open, a mad volley of automatic gunfire exploded through the door, the bullets pelting wildly against the opposite wall, tearing the drywall to smithereens. 

I heard Philips yelling over the sound of the bullets, his battle cry the sad mimicry of a middle-aged man who's never been in combat but who's watched Rambo on TV at least a dozen times. 

He moved slowly out into the hall, still firing, too blinded by the pulse of the gun to see that he was hitting nothing whatsoever, save for his own house. 

I waited until my shot was clear, then I jerked my gun up, and aimed it right for the side of his head. He became aware of me just as I started pulling the trigger, and started turning in my direction.

BAM!

“FUCK!” 

The bullet raced clean through his head, but he was facing too me way too much as he fell, and the gun was still going off in his hands as he fell. Streams of bullets whipped and whizzed through the air in my direction, seeming to leave these white hotlines in their wake like miniature chemtrails, fading only very slowly from my field of vision. 

And then I felt something hit me, in spite of my very best efforts to avoid the barrage.

I yelled out in pain and was sure in that moment that this spelled the end of me. The impact had been against my head, and no sooner had I felt it than I watched my life flashing before my eyes. All the horror. All the carnage. All the mayhem, and all the heartbreak. 

No! No! Fuck! Fuck! Please, please, don't let this be the last thing that I see before I'm ushered in through the gates of hell! I'll have all eternity to look at all that... Just please, don't let this be the end!

I was lying on the ground by the time it dawned on me that I hadn't been mortally wounded. A scalding teardrop was rolling down along my cheek, thick and viscous. It seeped in between my lips, and I felt it on my tongue, and I realized that it was blood from my wound. 

I touched my cheek, and it stung but realized with relief that I'd only been grazed. 

I wasn't about to die. Not yet, anyway.

It took a while past the ringing in my ears to recognize the sound of voices ringing out in the background. I leaped back to my feet, instantly on my guard again, and the adrenaline of survival the only thing that was keeping my legs from collapsing. 

I held my gun pointing into the room but thankfully didn't fire. The afterimage of gunfire finally faded away from my field of vision, and I could see that there were two naked women, cowering in fear in the opposite corner of the room. 

I sighed and lowered my pistol. Then I looked down into Ray Philips' wide eyes, the gaping red hole in his temple a sure sign that it was over at last. I'd done my job. And I was finished. 

“You two could really do better,” I said to the two of them, with a last look inside the room. Then I pulled the door shut again behind me, and took off down the hall at top speeds. I should have felt victorious, elated, freed at last from the shackles of this line of work. 

Instead, though, I just felt sick. My blood pressure was high. My pulse was skyrocketing. I never felt great after a kill, but this was something different. I wondered whether it was the fact that I'd come so close to death, or maybe that I'd taken a life I hadn't intended to take when I'd signed up for this job. 

I didn't think it was either of those things, though. 

I think, somehow, my body was trying to warn me. I think it was a sense of foreboding, to let me know what I had no way of knowing yet, but that I probably should have anyway- by instinct, if by nothing else. 

That, quite simply, this wasn't really over. It was only just getting started... 

Right now, though, I ignored all of that. I rushed into the woods, and hopped onto my motorcycle, and took off down lightless back roads like a bat out of hell, increasingly on edge. I could hear the sound of sirens blaring like mad from the highway, and could see the red and blue lights flashing toward the crime scene as I made my escape- Philips might not dare have called the cops when he was alive, but I was sure the two women he'd probably paid to sleep with him would have. 

I told myself I didn't give a damn. That there was no way in hell I wasn't getting away with this. 

I just kept going and going, the momentum perversely soothing, as all the while the whole world seemed to be crashing in around me. 

_____

I started taking my clothes off the instant I stepped through the door of my apartment, and I was naked in the shower within a minute, the water cranked up to full heat, filling the bathroom with steam. 

I leaned forward against the far wall, panting so deep and so hard I thought I was hyperventilating. I didn't know what the fuck was wrong with me. As often as I'd done this, I'd never reacted to the way that I was now. Was it the girls maybe? Was it that glimpse of something I could never have in my life, making me feel so guilty, so paranoid? 

I still couldn't say for certain. 

I looked down at my feet, gasping, and watched the blood of Ray Philips and his bodyguard swirling down the drain amidst the scalding whirlpool of water. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. And then, without totally being aware of it, I noticed my hand finding its way between my legs, grabbing a nice, firm hold on my cock. 

I'd been hard ever since I put the bullet through the head of the bodyguard. 

It sounds terrible. I know it does. Like I get off on killing or something. But that's not it. 

Ever since I'd started doing this, I always got rock solid from the danger of a hit. I think it was something to do with survival, and biology, and all that shit. Like my body just knew, instinctively, that it was in danger. That its chance to reproduce was drawing to a close, and it demanded that I give it one last shot before I turn my back on life. 

I always had to cum after a kill. And right now I was aching for it like I'd never ached before. 

I wrapped my fist around my rock hard cock and started rapidly pumping myself beneath the shower, grunting as my hand slammed back into my balls, needing so badly to get this out of me, thinking that once I did it would finally be enough for me to be able to react. I jerked my growing inches of solid manhood with a vengeance. Like the job wasn't actually finished until I'd completed this crucial, cleansing ritual. I was pulsing so hard, and my tip was getting unbelievably swollen, and I wanted to get this heat out of me so fucking bad. 

But the pressure wasn't building. No matter how hard, how relentlessly I pumped myself, how desperately I needed to see this through to completion, my mind wasn't where it needed to be. I closed my eyes and tried to think. Tried to conjure up whatever it might take to get my rocks off, but couldn't figure out what the hell that might be. 

I tried picturing the two girls back at Philips' place- taking both of them at once- but of course, that only made matters worse. Then I tried thinking about Julia, my ex-fiance, who I'd dated all the way back before enlisting. Sometimes, she did the trick for me. That woman knew how to screw a man like it was nobody's business, and sometimes I could still taste her on me if I concentrated hard enough. Still feel the tight, rhythmic pulsing of her tight slit around my cock as she rode me. 

But then I would start thinking about everything she'd done to me. How badly she'd broken my heart, once I came back from combat so profoundly changed, so different, like she hadn't known what she was signing up for when I enlisted. 

This took me in the opposite direction. I started feeling bitter, and resentful, and about as far away from turned on as it was possible to be. 

And so I thought again. I shifted my focus. I tried to draw forth a name from depths of my mind. A name, and a face, of anyone who still filled me with any sort of tenderness. Instead so much pain. All the crushing heartbreak that had been inflicted on me by nearly everyone else in my life. 

And that was when someone strange came to mind. 

Keisha Hillary. 

It almost caught me off guard at first. 

I certainly hadn't been expecting it. 

Keisha, the daughter of my boss, Marlon Hillary. The two of us had only met a handful of times over the years that I'd ben in Marlon's employment. There had certainly never been anything between the two of us, as such- Marlon probably would have had me killed if he even caught me thinking about it. But the couple of times we had run into one another, there had been something unaccountably striking about her. 

Poise, and graciousness, and of course beauty. There was something mature about her, for a girl who was only twenty-one years old. A bit young for a blondish silver fox in his mid-forties? I'm not going to pretend otherwise. 

But on the occasions I'd seen her, I'd thought I saw some glint of those rich, mahogany eyes of hers. An expression of longing, unspoken, but very clear, and very present. I want you, she seemed to say, without speaking, and at that moment, beneath the boiling water, and with the last of Philips' blood draining away beneath my feet, something seemed to click. 

I wanted her. Badly. Like I'd never wanted a woman before in my life. 

I groaned and started slamming my hand against my body, pumping my shaft again at double the rate of before, jerking my fist along all those solid tumescent inches of mine. 

I pictured my tongue in her throat. My hands on her perfectly portioned breasts, squeezing them, pinching those dark, luscious nipples. I pictured her thighs, just the right amount of wide, and her tight, juicy ass, and imagined how wonderful it would feel, kneading those buttocks between my greedy fingertips. 

I savored the imagined touch of her rich, ebony skin, and the contrasting cool and heat of her body, and how hot and how tight she would feel around me if only I could be inside her. 

Finally, I pictured her down on her knees, and my cock in her throat and her tongue twisting around me, sucking me off with a kind of urgent desperation like I just couldn't cum for her soon enough. 

I started roaring and pounding myself, and I felt the pressure building, at last, building toward its sweet, inevitable, perfect crescendo. 

Then I let out a yell at the top of my lungs. Every muscle in my body seemed to spasm. Every part of me was seized by orgasm, gripped from head to toe, the bathroom seemed to spin around me, the steam making me lightheaded, and my heart thundering to escape from my chest. 

My cock spilled over, pulsing, leaping, pumping its hot cum everywhere. It plunged across my shifting hand, and hit the wall of the shower, and poured along down the drain. And all the while, as I just kept cumming and cumming, the whole of my being on fire with pleasure, was how fucking amazing my cum would look all over Keisha's skin, and dripping from her mouth, and spilling down so slowly between her perfect breasts. 

At long last, I felt the thrill of climax dissipating. I gasped, and shivered, and felt a devastating emptiness wash over me. All of the sudden, I was reminded of just how far I was from the girl I'd fantasized about. How ridiculous it was for me to imagine that kind of thing in the first place, knowing that a man like me could never settle down. Never have anything even remotely resembling what I craved to have with her. 

Best just to put her out of my head, and be grateful for what she'd done to me. 

Getting the toxins of murder out of my system, and allowing my heart to finally settle down to something even remotely resembling a normal rate of beating. 

I gave my shaft a last few deep, slow pumps, then practically slid along the tiles of the shower to the floor, exhausted, in so many more ways than I could count. 

“Fuck,” I gasped, tilting my head back, closing my eyes, and letting the steam from the water sweep me away. 

I tried my best to ward off my looming depression. To tell myself that I was all okay. So, I couldn't have what I really wanted. I could never have it. But I was out of this life now. I'd made enough on that hit to be finished with it. Gone for good. 

No looking back. 

That, as far as I was concerned, should have been enough.

What do you think about the sample? Pretty wild, huh? I won't deprive you any longer. You can read the full-length novella here: https://amzn.to/2ryTq85

If you'd prefer to read the Paperback version, you can find it here: https://amzn.to/2ryUetD

Dark Romance Books: Beauty & The Biker | Alpha Male MC Romance

alpha male bad boy bwwm romance novelY'all aren't ready. The BWWM romance novel I'll be publishing at the end of March is sizzling hot interracial romance deliciousness that you won't want to miss.

If you enjoy reading dark romance books with desirable alpha males, bad boys who make you swoon and strong black female heroes, you'll enjoy reading one of our top romance novels anticipated for the year.

Read the description below and then the first chapter FREE. 

Description:

Savage fighter. Ruthless leader. Icy blue eyes. 

My now ex-boyfriend lost me in a bet.

The winner? The ruthless leader of his rival motorcycle gang — Heath.

Heath is a cold-blooded killer, or so I’ve heard.

He expects total submission…

I don’t let anyone tell me what to do.

On the open road, I don’t have a choice.

I’m his. He won me fair and square.

And he won’t give me up without a fight.

Romance Novel Excerpt: Beauty & The Biker | Motorcycle Club Romance

Heath took me prisoner two days ago. Since then, I’d scoped out every opportunity to run. Clinging to him on the back of his Gold Wing, I scrutinized the landscape as we rushed past. Thick forests hung over the highway, shading us from the blazing heat of the sun beginning its descent in the sky. When all the bikes stopped and the men started their tune ups, I hung close to Heath’s bike. 

 

As he stooped down to check his tires, I checked on my cash.

 

I reached into my jeans and pulled out my wad of bills, mostly fives and ones. This was all the money I had but it would have to do. 

 

I counted it for the second time and prepared to run.

 

“Kaja, get over here,” he called and I rounded his shiny metal beast, my eyes darting furtively along the highway.

 

“Yes?” I folded my arms. 

 

My time approached.

 

“Hold this. I need to screw on the bolts,” he growled.

 

I stuck out my palm with a scowl on my face and he stuck the spanner in it with a bemused raised eyebrow.

 

“You don’t have to be so sour.”

 

“Whatever. I want to get out of here.”

 

He chuckled. 

 

“Bossy huh? We’ll see what you say when we get to Chicago and I off-load you onto the first toothless bastard I find.”

 

“Buzz off.”

 

He chuckled again and bent down to adjust his tires. 

 

“Spanner.”

 

I handed him the spanner. 

 

“Good.” 

 

He opened up the toolbox on the back of the bike and shoved it back in.

 

“Why the long face sunshine?”

 

“Don’t mock me,” I spat back, “I don’t have to put up with your bullshit.” 

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

“Ready to go you bastard?” Rhys approached and smacked Heath on the back, causing the two of them to erupt in guffaws. Heath’s laugh was a low chuckle while Rhys’ pierced the air with the same pitch as his Southern accent. Rhys ran his hands through his blond hair and stuck it in a loose ponytail.

 

“Damn straight,” Heath said, “Where’s Jacob and his girl?”

 

Don approached then zipping up his leather jacket and twirling his helmet in his hands.

 

“Those two love birds snuck off for a bit of nookie in the woods.”

 

Heath chuckled, “Joining ‘em this time?” 

 

Rhys snorted, “That slut? No thanks. She’s been passed around by every guy with a bike on the Eastern seaboard.”

 

Don chuckled and retorted, “Yeah right, you’re just pissed off she chose Jacob instead of you.”

 

“Fuck off,” Rhys snorted, putting his helmet on.

 

“Reckon I should go scare him out?” He touched the gun on his holster.

 

Heath shook his head, “Nah. They’ll be here soon.”

 

Don smirked, “Knowing Jacob, it should be about… 90 seconds.”

 

The men erupted into laughter again and I just stood there, glaring with my arms folded. I’d tried to go unnoticed but Rhys noticed my scowl and approached me pressing his fingers to my lips and flicking them.

 

“Why the long face? You ain’t find us funny?”

 

“No,” I spat back.

 

“Hey watch your mouth,” Rhys spat, “You’re nothing but a piece of meat and if you catch an attitude I’ve got no problem ditching your sorry ass on the side of the road.”

 

“Hey!” Heath interrupted, “Leave her alone.”

 

Rhys snickered.

 

“Whatever man, don’t defend her.”

 

Don grunted, “Don’t be a pussy Heath, he’s only joking. No one’s going to harm princess over here.”

 

The men laughed again, like I was some big joke. I kept my gaze steady, trying not to care. I wouldn’t be stuck with them much longer. Five minutes later, Angie and Jacob emerged from the woods holding hands and laughing.

 

“Not much stamina, Jacob?”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Angie spat, “Watch your mouth Don or I’ll cut your tongue out?”

 

“Why so you can shove it up you —”

 

“Watch the way you talk to my lady buddy,” Jacob interrupted, stepping in front Angie.

 

“Geez, it’s just a joke.”

 

“Yeah well fuck off leprechaun.”

 

“Me ma’s Irish, that’s why I’ve got this red hair,” Don replied, doing his best imitation of an Irish accent and breaking the groups tension, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Angie said, “Princess looks like she’s going to shit bricks.”

 

She jutted her chin towards me, drawing even more attention than I wanted.

 

“I’m fine,” I spat.

 

Angie winked, her brilliant blue eyes twinkling with excitement. Her daisy dukes barely covered her thin, pale legs with blue veins trailing through them. Her long chocolate hair hung to the middle of her back and she fixed it into a ponytail before donning her helmet and hopping on her bike.

 

“Time to ride…”

 

I had no choice. I hopped on the back of Heath’s bike, clutching his torso as he revved the engine up.

 

“Don’t let go sweetheart,” he both commanded and taunted me.

 

I wouldn’t let go. With only twenty miles to the next fuel station, all I had to do was wait. Once we got there, I’d go to the gas station restroom and make my break for it. I knew these backroads well enough and this would be my last chance to escape before these hooligans dragged me God-knows-where.

 

We drove down the highway, wind whipping my dreads into the breeze and my breath fogging up the helmet. I clutched Heath tightly because I had no choice. I had no choice but to hold onto his body or go flying down the highway. 

 

The road stretched out for miles before it curved, deserted since rush hour had passed. We were deep in the New England boonies and wouldn’t hit traffic until New York. The Steel Dragons spoke about going around the city when they thought I wasn’t listening. I’d been preparing to take my last stand. 

 

However they managed city traffic wouldn’t be my problem. I needed patience. Heath’s gaze fixated on me whenever we’d stopped. I’d have trouble getting out of his sight at the gas station but he couldn’t follow me everywhere. I hadn’t said much, hoping they’d underestimate me. He kicked the stand up and I squeezed my arm around him tighter.

 

The bikes roared and they kicked up dust as they accelerated down the highway. Jacob and Angie rode side by side in the front, Rhys and Heath rode together behind them.

 

Holding down the flank were Don, and Clay. Don would be the hardest one to get something past. He was too sharp and he didn’t trust that I’d stay with the Dragons in the first place. He’d begged Heath not to bring me along but Don didn’t make the rules around here — Heath did. 

 

I breathed a sigh of relief when we pulled into the gas station as they’d planned. My heart skittered in my chest. I was too accustomed to fear to allow it to paralyze me. I got off the bike and took my helmet off.

 

“You stay here,” Heath growled as he walked to the pump.

 

“I-I need to go to the restroom.”

 

Heath looked me up and down.

 

“Fine. Be quick.”

 

He gestured for me to hand him the helmet so I did, relieved that I was now unencumbered. 

 

The gang stared at me as I entered the gas station. I could feel their eyes on my back and of course, Rhys dog whistled which earned him a warning punch from Heath. A tinny bell rang as I thrust the door open and as the door closed behind me. 

 

I stood alone with the attendant, tempted to ask him to call the police. If the police found me, they’d find out quick that I knew Trey Holt. They’d want me to talk and if I dared say one word my life would be on the line. No cops. I didn’t need them. The attendant at the desk eyed me and then eyed the gang, clad head to toe in black leather in stark contrast to my jeans and white tank top.

 

“You with them?”

 

“Y-yes,” I replied.

 

I was too scared to say much to anyone. The man snorted.

 

“You don’t look like the type.”

 

“C-can I use the bathroom?”

 

“You sure you okay ma’am?”

 

“Yes,” I replied, “I’m sure.”

 

“Okay, it’s back there behind the hot dogs.”

 

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

 

I’d been here before with Trey. A girl had been working that time but the gas station had no reason to change. I walked into the bathroom and closed the door, turning the lock and exhaling.

 

“Pull it together Kaja,” I muttered, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans and looking up at the window, perched a few feet above me just as I remembered it.

 

I stood on the toilet, grunting as I shoved the small window open. I was small enough to fit and I’d considered running away the last time I’d come with Trey so I’d thought the plan through before. I grunted again as I thrust the entire window open. I reached up to the sill and grunted as I pulled myself up, shuffling my body through the window.

 

There was an eight foot drop from the window that landed on a patch of grass. Lucky freaking me. I tucked and rolled as I dropped. I stood to my feet and without looking back, I turned tail and ran.

 

The gas station was just outside of a small town with plenty of New England charm and an absence of any people. My feet pounded the pavement as I hurried towards the trees. My heart thumped in my chest and my stomach tightened. If I didn’t get away this time, Heath would be pissed and the rest of them would be pissed. I’d be stuck riding to California with a bunch of crazy assholes — who hated me.

 

I burst through the clearing and stopped to catch my breath, bending over my pressing my palms into my knees.

 

“THERE SHE IS!”

 

Shit. Angie ratted me out. So much for girl power…

 

I picked up the pace, adrenaline bursting through my chest and forcing my legs to carry me. At the other end of the clearing I’d have to cross the highway and then I could get to the strip mall. Once I got to the strip mall… Well someone in there had to have a phone. I could call Julie and she’d come get me. Wouldn’t she? I knew she was Trey’s sister but come on, Trey got me into this mess. It’s not like I wanted to be here in the first place.

 

I ran towards the light, through the trees, hopping over felled tree branches and avoiding deep murky puddles with rotting leaves. 

 

“Don’t you dare shoot her!” A voice called — this time Heath.

 

Yeah, I’m sure he wanted Don, Rhys or whoever had pulled the gun to keep their hands off his precious cargo.

 

“She’s heading to the mall, guys we have to split up!”

 

My chest tightened. They knew where I was going and they planned to stop me. I couldn’t stop running. I was less than 1/4 mile away from the entrance to the highway and if I was lucky, I could find someone passing by who would stop and pick me up. 

 

I heard the sound of motorcycles revving in the distance but I didn’t stop running until I exited the deep woods and stood at the edge of the highway on the other side of the guard rails. Traffic was far from heavy, but the roads weren’t deserted with a few family cars heading up to the Berkshires for the weekend. 

 

I climbed over the guard rail, listening for the choking and heaving of the motorcycle mufflers  and waiting for the right time to dash across the road. I stuck my thumb out as I waited, hoping for one of the two options to work out for me. 

 

My heart raced faster, my eyes snapped wider taking in every detail of the landscape from the tall evergreen trees to the leafy green maples to the dust kicked up by the Volvo rushing past. I stuck my arm out and waved but nobody stopped.

 

When I got a break in the road I started to sprint.

 

“Gotcha,” the voice came first them I felt the arms around me.

 

“AHHHHH!”

 

Heath. He’d caught up with me.

 

“Stop squirming and this will over soon.”

 

“LET. ME. GO.”

 

I shrieked.

 

I kicked back and struggled against him. Having height, weight and size as an advantaged meant I was powerless against him. It’s not like I couldn’t throw a punch mind you. With Trey, we’d had to defend ourselves a few times as we rode across the country from bar fights to fending off muggers. 

 

Heath stood a full foot taller than my 5’6” and he kept his body in immaculate physical condition. I screamed and kicked again but he pulled me deeper into the woods, back towards the gas station.

 

“Pull shit like that again and I’ll strip you down and leave you on the side of the road,” he growled.

 

“PUT ME DOWN! PUT ME DOWN! HEEELLLLPPPP!” I screamed.

 

“Shut up!” He growled.

 

“I’ll shut up when you put me down!”

 

“You tried to run. You lost the right to stand on your own two feet when you did that.”

 

Gasping for breath and desperate to stop his thick muscular arms from crushing me, I whimpered, “If you put me down I won’t run. I’ll go with you.”

 

He dropped me and I fell to the ground, screaming as my back hit.

 

“Get up,” he growled.

 

“OW!”

 

I sat up and glared at him as I got to my feet and dusted my hands off.

 

“That hurt.”

 

“Listen up missy.”

 

“What?”

 

“I won you fair and square… You aren’t going anywhere unless I tell you to.”

 

“It’s illegal to hold people captive you know.”

 

He chuckled, “Yeah, ‘cause I’m a real good guy right? Like Trey?”

 

“Don’t bring up Trey.”

 

Heath chuckled again, “I’ll bring up Trey if I want to princess. You’re mine.”

 

He snarled the word mine with such vitriol I flinched. 

 

“Y’know the way back is much faster running than walking.”

 

Heath chuckled, “Nice try. Make a run for it again and you’ll regret it.”

 

“Won’t be my only regrets,” I mumbled.

 

“Hush. Too much talking.”

 

The rest of the way back to the gas station we walked in silence. Heath walked behind me with his quiet long stride. When I burst through the trees fear gripped my chest again. 

 

“Keep moving. Say nothing.”

 

I nodded and kept going. Angie and Jacob straddled their bikes, visors turned up as they watched me.

 

“How far’d she get?” Angie asked with a wicked smile.

 

“Not very I bet,” Clay added.

 

The entire bunch of them laughed again and clinked their soda cans against each other before chugging them down and dropping the cans on the ground.

 

“Ready to ride outta here?” Don asked.

 

Heath grunted, “Yeah.”

 

“Get her on the back of your bike and make sure she doesn’t try anything else,” Rhys drawled with his thick Texas accent, “I’m sick of this. When you made that bet—” 

 

“Quiet,” Heath growled, “I don’t want a lecture.”

 

Angie nodded and gestured Rhys away from us.

 

“C’mon, leave him alone before he hits you again.”

 

Heath smirked at that. Angie got on her bike and led the charge, speeding out of the gas station with Jacob behind her.

 

“She gives too many orders for a woman,” Clay grumbled.

 

He and Don bumped fists and laughed, flicking down their visors and revving their engines into action. Heath turned around to face me before getting on.

 

“No more funny business.”

 

“Yeah. Whatever.”

 

“Listen,” he growled, “If your stupid boyfriend hadn’t bet you like a fuckin’ poker chip, you wouldn’t be here. So blame him.”

 

“He’s NOT my boyfriend!”

 

“Do I look like I give a rat’s ass? Boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, fuckin’ preacher, whoever the fuck he is, he owes me ten thousand dollars.”

 

“What if I could give you ten thousand dollars?”

 

He grunted and laughed.

 

“You don’t have ten grand. Put the helmet on and hold tight missy.”

 

He slammed his helmet on and flipped the visor down after handing me mine. I put it on. He was right. This was Trey’s fault. Trey had lost the right to call me his boyfriend the moment he’d traded me over to the leader of his rival gang. He’d apologized — of course, he always apologized — but that time I’d had enough of him..

 

Tensions had been flaring between me and Trey for a while. I’d been waiting for the chance and as I kicked and screamed slung over Heath Danger’s shoulder, there seemed to be no better time.

 

I straddled the bike, wrapping my arms around him. He adjusted my grasp and revved the bike up. The sound was like a drug to me. I squeezed tight as he started down the highway getting faster and faster until he caught up with the rest of the gang.

 

I grabbed onto his coat, my fingers cold without gloves. The scent of leather and dirt wafted in through the helmet. My faux leather jacket barely protected me from the elements. 60 mph. 70 mph. We were all headed west over 80, each of the dragons as fearless and furious as the wind.

 

Sunset approached and they’d have to stop again soon — this time for sleep. I hadn’t planned to be with them so long. My escape attempt failed and I feared what they’d do to me if I tried again. But if we stopped for the night, I’d have another chance. I clung to Heath until we stopped just after sunset.

 

“Let’s get some grub then we’ll head to the house,” Jacob said once the bikes had been parked.

 

“Did any of you stupid fucks tell Hannah about her?” Angie asked, jutting her chin towards me.

 

“I’ll deal with Hannah. Jake, keep your girl in line,” Heath growled.

 

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Angie asked, folding her arms. 

 

Jacob stepped between them.

 

“Hey, hey can you two cool it for a sec?”

 

Don grunted, “Keep her quiet. We’ll eat. Heath will deal with Han.”

 

Clay nodded, “Sounds good.”

 

We walked inside the Ponderosa and Heath chose our seats, ignoring the chipper hostesses direction.

 

They all ordered and as directed, I stayed quiet. I didn’t think they’d feed me but Heath got me my own steak dinner. I’d barely eaten all day so I didn’t mind staying silent while I wolfed down the entire steak, the mediocre mashed potatoes and the horrible coleslaw. 

 

Who knows when I’d get my next meal, especially if I managed to break away in the middle of the night. So far Heath hadn’t been cruel but I was still his prisoner.

 

Once I was done, Angie slammed down a little over a hundred on the table and tipped the waitress a fifty. The money they’d made for their last deal covered the gang as they traveled across the country to California to make another deal with Angie’s step-brother in L.A. 

 

I got back on the bike and we entered the small blue house with the white door one after the other after the men parked their bikes. Hannah wore nothing but a thin camisole with her nipples poking through and yoga pants. Her hair was a mess, she reeked of menthols and she kept itching her wrists as she told us which rooms we’d have.

 

“What’s her story?” Hannah asked about me.

 

“Mine,” was all Heath said. He didn’t answer any questions about me after that. I knew better than to open my mouth and speak when I hadn’t been spoken to.

 

He marched me upstairs and pointed towards an air mattress on the radiator.

 

“This is our room.”

 

“Our?!”

 

“Listen cupcake this ain’t the fucking Ritz Carlton.”

 

He prodded me until I entered the room. 

 

“Get on the mattress.”

 

“What?” 

 

I turned to face him, fists clenched, ready to fight him off if I had to.

 

“Get. On. The. Mattress.”

 

My chest heaved with my anxious breathing and I stood my ground.

 

“No.”

 

He grabbed me by the wrist and sat me down on the mattress. I squealed as my back sank into the rubber. He pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket and handcuffed me to the radiator.

 

“That’s so you don’t try to make a run for it while we talk business.”

 

I shook my arm and rattled the handcuffs against the radiator. Heath smiled.

 

“No making a fool out of me tonight,” he growled, “Stay nice and quiet and we won’t have any trouble.” 

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Romantic Comedy Novels: The Situationship by Jamila Jasper

bwwm romance romance comedy novelsThe Situationship  is a Jamila Jasper romantic comedy novel set in the beautiful city of NYC. The story described a complicated "situation" between two "friends with benefits", each hoping for something more but too afraid to ask for what they want.

If you're a fan of BWWM romance and you're looking for a light-hearted contemporary interracial romance novel, you'll enjoy this book.

You can get a copy of The Situationship  here:  http://amzn.to/2v3Jiar

Check out the full description below.

Description: 

LOLA HOPKINS

Not quite a friendship, not quite a relationship
Some women would consider that a HOT MESS 
But not me. 
I liked no-strings-attached fun with Mark.
That is, I liked it until I got pregnant... 
Will I ever convince this playboy to settle down?

MARK JAGGER

I love Lola, but I can't hurt her
My ex-wife will never accept me getting serious with another woman.
I need to keep Lola at arm's length to keep her safe.
But these days, she's been getting so damned clingy.
I can't figure out why...

This book is for lovers of hot and steamy action between the sheets. If you enjoy romance between beautiful, strong black women and handsome, alpha male white men, you'll enjoy this book. Take a look inside to get a taste of what you're missing...

The Situationship BWWM Romance Sample: 

 

1 SIDE CHICKS?

Lola Hopkins

 

I knew what kind of guy Mark Jagger was when I met him and that drew me to him like a fly to honey. He was everything I was looking for in a man when I’d met him. Mark was 6’3” tall and he had short cropped dirty blonde hair, killer white teeth and a body like a God. After a few drinks, I was hooked. I hate to say it but I was even more attracted to him when he told me he was “polyamorous”.

 

 

That night we didn’t sleep together but Mark explained to me what being with him entailed. He was seeing three other women and they all knew about it. They were free to see who they wanted and he was free to see who he wanted, as long as they were honest about it. I remember when he told me that at the bar, I almost burst into tears.

 

Thankfully, I didn’t. But after what I’d been through with Darius, I felt like I was witnessing a miracle. Mark was honest — up front. I didn’t mind that he was seeing other women because hell, I’d already been through it with a man who had a whole family. At least Mark was honest. 

 

And his honesty kept me hooked for two years. Yes, I’ve been seeing Mark for two years and that whole time, I’ve known about the other women he’s seeing. It’s easier that way. I don’t have to worry about him lying and I don’t have to worry about him expecting much from me. 

 

Since I’ve met Mark, I’ve been promoted twice and now I’m the Chief Financial Officer in the company. I have twenty-five people working under me and my office is almost as big as that first condo I moved into. I live in an even bigger two bedroom condo and I bought myself a white BMW — cash. I don’t need a man to take care of me. I only need a man to be honest with me. 

 

And despite his unconventional lifestyle, Mark is honest. 

 

I had him on the weekends for the next six months so I showed up on Friday as we’d planned. I let myself in with my key to his place and I went upstairs to get dressed. Mark was the kind of guy who was both kind, but dominant. He had specific tastes for women and instructions that all his girls had to follow on their nights. I didn’t know his other girls very well, but I knew that a part of why Mark loved me so much was that I was different from any woman he’d ever dated.

 

I’d fallen into his routine so easily and outside of our confusing “situationship” we made decent friends. I looked at the clock in Mark’s bathroom. Twenty minutes until he got home.

 

I’d just finished shaving everything and I slipped into the lingerie Mark had placed on a white wire hanger for me. The black teddy hugged my curves and the thong slipped between my ass cheeks, highlighting my gorgeous buttocks. I let down my hair, which was 18” long and totally natural except for the flat iron I ran over it every morning. I slipped into the knee high stockings Mark had left me and clipped them to the garter hanging from the teddy.

 

The final piece of the outfit was a pair of six inch Louboutin heels. Mark liked spoiling me like this, even if he knew I could afford everything he bought me and more all on my own. With fifteen minutes to spare, I worked on my makeup. I brushed dark shadow around my grey eyes and finished a smokey eye makeup look. I’d been waiting all week to see Mark and I knew when he walked in through that door, he’d rock my world.

 

Life got so much better for me when I learned to keep things casual with men. With Darius, I’d made mistakes. I’d thought all men were like my daddy — good, honest and willing to go the distance. But I’d learned that modern love was a lie. And as I’ve told you, Mark was honest. If there was a potential for love here, we’d never allow ourselves to explore it. We were a generation built for casual encounters, not lasting love, and I had to force myself to be “ok” with that, despite my childhood dreams of a big wedding and everlasting love.

 

If such a thing had ever existed, I was convinced that it had died many years ago.

 

I heard Mark walk in and I stood in the doorway to his bedroom waiting for him. He bounded up the stairs knowing what awaited him. When he saw me in the doorway, Mark let out a loud, long whistle.

 

“Holy shit that looks good on you.”

 

I spun around in the doorway giving him a look at all my goodies. He whistled again.

 

“Like what you see?”

Mark scoffed, “Hell yeah I like it. Come here baby.”

I strut towards him in my heels and let Mark wrap me in his arms. After a hellish week his arms engulfed me in the kind of warmth and comfort that I needed. He tilted my chin up towards his lips and then kissed me long and slow. He gripped my ass cheeks as he kissed me and pulled me closer.

 

“Mmmm,” I mumbled as he pulled me in for a second kiss.

“I can’t believe how good this looks on you.”

I pulled away from him and smirked, “You probably say that to all your girls.”

 

“Maybe you all look good.”

 

I dove in for another kiss. Mark gripped my waist again and I could feel his dick stirring in his pants. He wasn’t a man for wasting time at all. 

 

“Easy there, we have all night,” I reminded him.

 

He pulled away, “You’re right. Tell me about work today.”

“On second thoughts,” I replied, “Maybe we should just get right to it.”

 

Mark grinned. The tricky bastard. He knew the last thing I’d want to get into was figures and tables, especially not with a guy that looked like him standing in front of me.

 

“Wine?” Mark offered.

 

“No thanks, let’s just head into the bedroom.”

 

He grinned and followed me. I knew he was checking out my ass as I walked ahead and Mark couldn’t help himself but to whistle again as I reclined back on his kingsized bed. He kept his eyes on me as he started to strip down to nothing. I watched as Mark revealed his body piece by piece. 

 

He pulled off his work shirt and his rock hard abs came into view. Mark was the biggest gym rat I’d ever seen — spending hours a day sculpting his body despite the fact that he was one of the highest paid anesthesiologist in the country, he always found time to dedicate to his physique. He didn’t just look good for forty; he looked good compared to anybody.

Mark undid his belt and slipped into just his underwear. His dick bulged through his boxer briefs and I felt my pussy stirring with anticipation as he walked towards the bed. Mark’s dick redefined my perception of a “big dick”. He wasn’t just long, but his dick was thick and huge veins wrapped around his beautiful, dusky pink member. 

 

As Mark climbed into bed with me, he pulled me close and started to kiss me on the lips again. I ran my hand down his abs and grasped his cock through his boxers. He pushed me onto my back and positioned himself on top of me. He kissed and kissed me, letting his hand trail over the lace teddy that covered my body.

 

I kicked off the heels and allowed Mark to trace the outline of my hips and to squeeze onto bits of my flesh as his hands roved over my body. Mark’s hands hovered outside my pussy lips and he began to massage my mound slowly through my lingerie. I began to writhe beneath him, encouraging him to reach for my clit and start coaxing me to climax.

 

Mark stopped abruptly and then moved back up to kissing my lips. He used his hands to slip the teddy off my shoulders, around my voluptuous breasts and down to my hips. Mark struggled to slip the outfit around my buttocks, but soon I was lying there naked before him — no more lingerie and no stockings. Half the fun of the outfit was pulling it off me.

 

He looked at my shaved wetness between my legs and licked his lips.

 

“I’ve been waiting all day to taste you.”

He began to kiss my stomach and then the top of my mound. I squirmed as his tongue traced my thighs and my desire for him deepened. Mark squeezed my thighs and spread my legs open to allow himself greater access to what was between my legs. He inhaled the scent of my wetness and groaned with euphoria. 

 

He loved my scent, my wetness and my taste more than life itself. Receiving Mark’s kisses between my thighs drove me wild. He knew exactly where to touch me and for how long and he could bring me to writhing, shrieking orgasms at the slightest touch. Mark was great in bed — better in bed than anyone I’d been with. What made him even better was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about him. I could just be.

 

I gasped as Mark’s tongue made contact with my clit for the first time that night. I squirmed slightly and he pressed my thighs into the bed holding me still.

 

“Don’t move,” He commanded.

 

I obliged him and tried to hold my breath as Mark began to lap at my pussy greedily. I held still, but I couldn’t keep quiet. I let out a loud moan as Mark’s tongue grazed my clit and as he eagerly sucked on my pussy lips and the flesh between them.

 

“Ohhhh yes!” I cried out. I could already feel a climax coming close.

 

“Don’t stop,” I whimpered again.

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