Romance Novel Excerpts | Book #7 | Parisian Billionaire Brotherhood - Interracial Billionaire Romance Novel
Book 2 of the dark bad boy romance series BWWM Captive Series, makes an impact on interracial romance readers who love romantic stories and couldn't wait for the launch of one of our best contemporary romance novels. Ex Con's Captive is everything we have been waiting for after Book 1, SEAL's Captive...
This book follows the story of the second Jackson sister, Tyra Jackson. Unlike her sister, Gigi, Tyra has had a tougher life than most. She's used her loud-mouth and her spitfire temper to shield her from all the hurt she's been exposed to in life. Her father's death leaves her an heiress but it's not a status she's comfortable with at all.
Tyra can be impulsive, which makes for an explosive dynamic between her and her captor, Leon Wilkins. The chemistry between the two is instant and volatile, with the contrast between Tyra's outspoken ways and Leon's reserved stoicism. Set far away from life in America, Ex Con's Captive will take this African American beauty all over Eastern Africa, from Nairobi to Kampala, and even through Tanzania. Get relaxed to read the FREE sample of this steamy hot August 2018 interracial romance release from bestselling Author, Jamila Jasper.
Romance Novel Excerpts: Ex Con's Captive | Book #2 BWWM Captive Series
Goodbye to Gigi wasn’t easy. I’d only just grown accustomed to having a sister and saying goodbye so soon had never been a part of my plan. She zoomed off in a taxi and left me standing next to Dinah.
“Think she’ll be okay?” I asked.
“Of course,” Dinah smiled, “Of course she’ll be okay. “
“I dunno. She’s taking it hard…”
Dinah smirked, “Listen, I’ve got people looking after her.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“People? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t have to worry.”
I didn’t get along with Dinah as well as I got along with Gigi. I found her standoffish and she spoke as if she knew everything. If she knew so damn much, why didn’t she just tell us instead of being so cryptic and speaking in code?
“C’mon,” Dinah said, “Let’s head inside. We still have guests.”
We walked back inside when one of Dinah’s staff approached her with a worried look on her face. She touched Dinah’s arm and whispered into her ear. Dinah’s expression twisted with worry and she thanked her housekeeper before returning to my side.
I worried about my mama back in California. She’d never been without me for this long and with my younger brothers (half-brothers) off on their tour of duty, she needed me now more than ever.
Yup, my mama had more kids when I was sixteen years old and my brothers were just old enough to pick up guns and serve their country.
“There’s a storm. We’ve just had word a hurricane is going to hit tomorrow.”
“In Costa Rica?”
“Off the coast. It’s unusual but… not impossible.”
“I’m supposed to leave tomorrow morning!”
“Sorry Tyra. You’re welcome to stay here the night.”
I had no desire to stay in Dinah’s cold, Costa Rican mansion any longer than I had to. I was never close to my father and if I had to be honest, I came to collect my inheritance and meet my sisters, who I’d met only a handful of times during my life. The mansion had no life to it. The large beams and open spaces with their operatic acoustics only felt empty to me.
Despite the tropical heat, the humid atmosphere within the concrete megalith chilled me to the bone. I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and returned past the manicured palm trees and bougainvillea gardens to the guests. My father’s associates all imbued me with a sense of deep discomfort. When one man grabbed my hand, my palm shivered with the panic a woodland creature feels before being squeezed by an anaconda.
I stuck to Dinah’s side the rest of the evening. I could sense her growing frustration with me, but I couldn’t bear to mill about with the black-suited dementors whose soul-sucking interest in wealth alone was practically palpable to me. I reached for my phone, hoping to steal away for a few minutes to call my mother. No bars. Right — the hurricane.
Dinah had attempted an escape, but I spotted her across the room talking to a short, latino man, one of the ones who had spoken at the funeral. He had a scar across his eye and chilling anthracite eyes.
“Tyra, have you met Luciano?”
The name rang a bell. He’d spoken and given one of my father Jerome’s eulogies.
“Ah, I don’t believe so.”
He reached out his hand, licking his lips before greeting me.
“Beautiful Tyra. I remember your mother.”
“Oh, thanks. Hi.”
“I’m Luciano. I’m leaving. I must get out of here before the storm hits.”
His thick accent belied his perfect diction.
“Safe drive,” I replied.
He chuckled, “I doubt it.”
He hugged Dinah and we watched him leave together.
“Scary, isn’t he?” Dinah whispered.
“You could say so.”
“Harmless. I’ve known him since I was a child.”
I didn’t think growing up in this environment, Dinah had any clue what safety meant, but I didn’t question her. Drinking and partying continued until the wee hours of the morning. Dinah and I were the last to retire, except for the wait staff who now had the funeral of a century to clean up after.
Dinah yawned as we ascended the marble staircase.
“Daddy would have hated this,” she mused.
I didn’t know our father well enough to say otherwise.
“I’ve arranged a private company to take you to the airport tomorrow. You won’t miss your flight.”
“What about the storm?”
“They say it’s swung north. We’re safe.”
I exhaled a sigh of relief and caught another yawn from Dinah.
“Sleep tight. I’ll send Ana up in the morning to take your breakfast order.”
“Sorry, we didn’t get to hang out much this time.”
I doubted there would be a "next time". Since we’d grown, “next time” never materialized the way it had when we were younger.
Dinah went to bed, leaving me in my suite. I wandered around with my phone for a while, flipping my braids out of my face as I pressed it against the window.
Nothing. Nothing. I shuffled to the left. Nothing. I shuffled to the right. Ah! Yes!
I called my mama’s number, feasting on the melody of the warbled dial tone.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“Mama, it’s me? Can’t you see the number?”
“Ain’t it late?”
“Girl you done woke me up.”
“Sorry. There was a storm…”
The line crackled.
“I hope you’re staying safe.”
“Yes. I’m gonna make my flight tomorrow. Signal’s really bad so I won’t call most likely.”
“Okay. I’ll be at the airport with Steven.”
My mama had been trying to force her new boyfriend Steven down my throat for the past eight months and it wasn’t going well.
“Steven? Why?” I huffed.
“He’s my man. Maybe if you had a man, you wouldn’t be worried about my man,” my mom started.
I rolled my eyes and ignored her as she trailed off into a rant about how I needed to get laid more so I would stop getting all “up in her business”.
“I just don’t like Steven!” I interrupted.
“Uh huh? You just have a problem with an old lady like me getting busy six nights a week.”
“Mama gross!” I yelled.
“Well it’s true,” she mumbled.
Hoping to spare myself any more disturbing details about my mother’s sex life, I made an excuse and hung up the phone. My mama had been a famous super-model in London, parlaying her olive green eyes and tanned skin into an international career. She’d been in magazines, met the Versace siblings and partied until addiction yanked everything underneath her and sent her spiraling towards rock bottom.
Money corrupts. She’d ended up with a baby — me — a few leaked porn tapes that had excluded her from high society in Los Angeles, and a ten year battle with cocaine and heroin that had only ended once she got pregnant with me. She’d raised me well, but there were times she couldn’t shake the wild child inside of her off. Without me to look after her, I didn’t think she’d make it.
I needed to get back. Steven, her new man, was a former pimp. I suspected he hadn’t left the pimping behind and I needed to get back to her so I could use my inheritance to find proof of who Steven was and chase him away from my mama. She deserved better.
I stayed awake all night thinking about my mama, Steven, and my now deceased father. Jerome had never been a good man to her. My sisters didn’t know it, but he’d paid good money for the night he spent with my mother. He’d only cared about her once the baby was born. Up until he got a paternity test to prove I was his, he’d spent every moment denying me and calling my mama a dirty hooker when he was the one who had paid for her.
You could see why I didn’t tell my sisters…
My mama got on my case for not getting laid but I would have stayed celibate for my whole life if it meant not ending up with a man like my daddy.
My eyes burned in the morning. A knock slammed against my door. I slid out of bed and ordered a simple breakfast — local Costa Rican bread, avocado, scrambled eggs, fresh mango slices and sparkling water. While Dinah’s housekeeper prepared breakfast, I showered and prepared for my flight.
The tropical weather messed up my braids and I knew my mama would comment on my hair the moment I landed in Los Angeles. I took a quick shower, tied my braids up into a tight high bun and wrapped a silk scarf around my forehead to hide my less than perfect edges.
I couldn’t wait to get back to LA where I could wear makeup every day without melting it off. Not even my acrylics survived the weather and the French manicure on my toes were my only ties to good looks that remained.
Breakfast came to me on white platters and I ate in bed. After thirty minutes, the housekeeper entered my room and informed me that Dinah hadn’t slept well and she wouldn’t be getting out of bed to say goodbye.
“Are you sure I can’t sneak in there?” I asked.
“No,” she replied, “Dinah is sleeping.”
“Your driver is downstairs,” she said.
“Yes. You leave early.”
Discomfort knotted my stomach.
“Can I at least leave her a note?” I asked.
“No,” the housekeeper replied firmly.
“Come on,” she smiled, sensing my discomfort, “Let’s go.”
I followed her, tugging my suitcase behind me and deciding whether or not I should make a break for it and say goodbye to Dinah anyway. I decided against bothering her. I didn’t feel we were close enough to justify it.
I followed Dinah’s dark-haired housekeeper outside to the black car with tinted windows that awaited.
“This is it?”
The driver got out of the car and approached the housekeeper with an envelope. She took it and scurried off. I squinted in the sunlight trying to get a good look at him. The rays blinded me enough that I couldn’t quite see his face. He was pale, freckled and wore thick sunglasses that obscured much of his face.
He didn’t smile.
He opened the front door for me rather than the back. This wasn’t the custom in America, but figuring it was just cultural, I entered the car. He sternly got into the front seat and I tried to work my best Spanish on him.
It’s impossible to live in LA without picking up a little bit of Spanish.
“Buenos días,” he replied in a thick Costa Rican accent.
His voice surprised me as his skin tone was one usually found amongst foreigners or expatriates. However, his accent sounded natural, like he’d been raised in the jungle.
As we drove out of the driveway, a thicket of trees clamored together overhead. He reached for a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth, gripping the steering wheel loosely as we drove.
“Where are we headed?”
He didn’t reply.
“Cómo te llamas?”
“Eso es francés, no?”
Not much of a talker, I presumed. Too bad. I had been nervous among my father’s contemporaries but I usually charmed the pants off most people in the real world (not the wealthy world). I’d talk to cab drivers, janitors, and I knew the homeless people on my block like we were family.
Maybe now, I could do something for them, I thought to myself.
I leaned back in the seat, resigning myself to a three-hour early morning drive without a lick of conversation. When we hit the highway, Leon started to speed. The roads wound around and after a few minutes, when I caught hold of my stomach again, I noticed we weren’t getting deeper into the city, but further away from it.
My heart sank. I hadn’t thought much about the envelope exchanged between Leon and Dinah’s housekeeper. The incident flashed into my mind with worry. Oh hell no…
I’d watched hundreds of hours of newsreels about women being kidnapped and sold into sex slavery. In that instant, that was all that flashed into my mind: being sold as a piece of meat for some sicko who would make me regret the rest of my living days.
I went ballistic.
“WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?!” I shrieked.
“Señora, en español?”
“En fuckin’ español? WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME. DONDE?”
“CALM DOWN, ANSWER THE QUESTION NOW! DONDE?”
“Señora, cálmate!” He growled.
Oh, he wanted to get angry? I did what any rational person wouldn’t do. I reached over, grabbing the steering wheel and swerved the car off the road, dragging the wheel to the left and screaming as the car went flying off the edge of the road.
Phew! This story is already getting crazy. Are you ready to continue reading it right away? I won't hold you up.
Amazon readers: https://amzn.to/2UrRwTZ
This novel will be coming out new this month and I'm excited to share Jealous Ex Husband with all you interracial romance fans out there. The trailer just dropped on YouTube and y'all have been sharing the love in the comment section to enter and win an advanced review copy. If you love books similar to 50 Shades of Grey with an interracial BWWM twist, you'll love this full-length novel which maps out the crazy story of Quetta & Vlad.
As I said in the trailer, divorce isn't easy and this story is about finding love after divorce. If you like romance novel excerpts, love romantic stories and enjoy reading free romance novels online, keep reading to enjoy the first preview of Jealous Ex-Husband...
Divorce ain't easy...
It's even harder when your ex-husband is famous...
Jealousy, back-stabbing and Hollywood materialism threaten Quetta's joy after divorce.
The one man who makes all her troubles disappear is the one man Quetta must stay away from...
Or she'll risk losing everything.
Romance Novel Excerpts: Jealous Ex Husband (BWWM Romance Novel)
Vlad Romanov had tired of Tati. She was not only another boring, fake model filled with silicon at every point of injection, but she was another reminder of his tendency to make horrible decisions with women. On his quest for “the one”, Vlad found himself surrounded by the perpetual stream of plastic women in Los Angeles whose only obsessions included Botox and Birkins — nothing else. Sure, she was sexy enough but was that really enough?
The biggest issue with Tati, besides her empty blue eyes and her desperation for material objects was the fact that the second they’d slept together she had become clingier than a piece of gum beneath a table. She didn’t get the idea that Vlad had no time for her. No. Fucking. Time. Vlad was one of the highest paid divorce lawyers on the West Coast and although he loved passing time with these wannabe models, strippers and shallow rich chicks, he reviled interruptions, especially while he worked.
“What the hell is it Tati?”
“I love you Vlad…” She purred in her heavy Russian accent. (Vlad wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t faking it. She claimed to be from Moscow but he knew without a doubt, her parents had immigrated in the late 80s.)
Vlad rolled his eyes. They’d slept together once. And Tati wasn’t naive. She might have been twenty years old but she had been around the block. She’d starred in around fifty blue movies before “retiring” and attempting to become a professional girlfriend. Sugar babies were as common as bus drivers in the city.
“Listen… Tati… I can’t handle this right now. I’m working on a case…”
Tati hit back, “You’re always working Vlad. Always working. Why don’t I stop by your office and I wrap my lips around your cock. We’ll see how busy you are.”
Vlad cringed. There was no way in hell he was going to let Tati know where he worked.
“Listen… Tati, I’ve got to go. Why don’t you go find some other way to occupy your time. I promise I’ll see you later.”
“You are a terrible boyfriend Vlad. Perhaps I should call another man to occupy me this afternoon.”
Vlad ignored her obvious attempt to make him jealous. “Perhaps you should. And I’m not your boyfriend.”
“What are you afraid of Vlad? You hate commitment.”
Vlad scoffed. He’d known Tati a grand total of eight days. Afraid of commitment or afraid of crazy Russian chicks?
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Fine! You’re a fucking scumbag Vlad! I spread my legs for you and what do you do… you shit all over me.”
Tati hung up. Vlad smirked. She was so dramatic. He knew she’d be crawling back for more later anyway. He really didn’t have time for her. Vlad’s latest celebrity lawsuit and his work had always taken priority over bimbos. The deeper and deeper Vlad got into his work, the less he had time for women.
Of course, all the women his age wanted nothing more than to tie him down and start milking him for money and babies. Vlad was still looking for fun. Crazy as she might have been, Tati was fun.
Vlad’s receptionist paged his office.
“Mr. Romanov? I have your two o’clock.”
“Send her up.”
Vlad downed the glass of vodka he’d kept sitting on his desk. His latest clientele wouldn’t appreciate how much he drank on the job. He adjusted his lapels and sat up straight, pulling out a gold pen and a sheet of thick card paper to take notes on. He’d been up all night, working on his latest case and the dark bags under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
Vlad’s piercing eyes were brilliant greenish color that glowed like emeralds. The green picked up the deep chestnut brown color of his hair, giving his eyes an occasional champagne color. Vlad sat up in his office chair and straightened his orange and black Princeton tie. Breathe.
His receptionist had hinted that this client wanted to remain anonymous before they met. She had “security concerns”, which wasn’t uncommon for his clients. Vlad wondered who it would be… Some celebrity bodyguard hoping Vlad would get them a big cash payout from alleged mistreatment? A woman with a botched boob job?
A knock on his door interrupted Vlad from his fantasizing.
He coughed and sat up straight, prepared for anything.
When the door opened, Vlad’s jaw might have dropped if he hadn’t had so much practice maintaining his composure under all manner of surprising encounters.
“Good afternoon, miss,” He greeted her. Of course, most people on the West Coast knew who she was but people who were famous preferred the pretense that they could maintain anonymity. Instantly, Vlad noticed how much more beautiful she was in person…
Quetta Blackburn noticed the same things about him. Quetta wondered if she’d come to the right place at all. The man sitting across the desk from her looked more like a professional athlete and bodybuilder than a high-powered lawyer who had been personally responsible for bankrupting a number of high profile men. His office stank of vodka and cigars, but other than the smell, was perfectly clean and tidy, almost acetic in its appearance.
“Good afternoon Mr. Romanov.”
“Good afternoon, madam.”
Quetta stuck out her hand to shake his. Vlad maintained eye contact with her, his gaze piercing into hers as he assessed every detail about her, gripping her hand in a firm, powerful handshake. Her diamond tennis bracelet jingled as she shook his hand and her manicured fingers dug into his thick meaty palm. She released his grasp quickly and smoothed her tight dress, sitting with her legs crossed before invited.
“So… What are we speaking about today Miss…”
“You know who I am…” She said, “But don’t call me Mrs. Blackburn. Call me Quetta.”
“My husband and I are getting a divorce. I forced him to file the papers and I need a lawyer who can help me get what I’m worth,” Quetta said flatly.
Quetta’s cool impressed Vlad. Most divorcées were withering messes, unsure of what they wanted and more interested in salvaging what politeness they could from their spouses. He could tell Quetta wasn’t that kind of woman. Her dark, copper colored skin glowed with the effortless beauty of a woman who lived without stress. Vlad picked up on her intense gaze.
He was the best, everyone agreed he was the best. But Quetta was still skeptical when she saw him. Vlad still looked more like a pretty boy than a renowned lawyer.
“What do you have in mind?” Vlad asked.
She didn’t pause for a moment before speaking her mind.
“I want at least half… More than half if I can get away with it. It’s just… I’ve been through a lot with him and I’m afraid of what my husband will try to do.”
Vlad looked Quetta up and down. She didn’t look like your usual basketball wife gold digger, but she had some of the trimmings of one. Every part of her was perfectly manicured from her straight black weave, her body hugging dress and her manicured fingernails. Every inch of her that could dripped in jewelry. Her Prada bag on the table was the final touch in a made-for-TV outfit.
Vlad was certain she didn’t leave the house without consulting a stylist. Still, despite her manicured state, she was dressed properly. There wasn’t a hint of cleavage and her skirt fell far below her knees. Quetta Blackburn seemed just as wholesome as her TV image.
“May I ask the reason for the divorce, Mrs. Blackburn? Before taking on new clients, I need to know that I can win.”
“This conversation will be confidential, right?”
Now, Vlad was curious. He leaned forward, itching to have another drink as he listened to a story that promised to be intriguing.
“My husband…” she sighed.
“My husband hasn’t been faithful,” she confessed.
Quetta pursed her lips after the confession. Her calm exterior was only slightly ruffled, but Vlad was good enough at reading people to see that she had been. She twirled her fingers around and fiddled with the clasp of her bracelet.
Vlad raised his eyebrow. Even he wasn’t resistant to such a delightful piece of gossip. Kareem Blackburn was a famous NBA player whose entire image as a celebrity was constructed around his Christian faith and his love for his Christian wife that he’d been with since college. Vlad couldn’t believe that the pure and wholesome family man could actually be a philanderer. A part of him wondered if Quetta was telling the truth.
“Listen… Mrs. Blackburn. I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” Vlad replied with a smile.
Quetta’s expression changed. She could tell that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She stopped fiddling with her bracelet and she grabbed her purse off his desk. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke to Vlad in a stronger voice than she’d ever managed to muster up.
“Listen Mr. Romanov. I’m a serious client asking you to negotiate a multi million dollar divorce. I don’t know what impression you have of me but I can pay your fee and I want your services. I’ve heard about you… a lot about you… And I know that you’re the only man who will be able to get me what I want. Everyone knows that you’re a sicko in the courtroom and you’ll do what it takes to win. I want that… I need that. So are you really going to say no to money on the table?”
She opened her purse and took out a checkbook. She wrote, in dazzling neat script and ripped the check, sliding it across the table. Vlad’s eyes popped open at the amount, which far exceeded his usual exorbitant retainer.
For someone who played the meek, innocent wife during TV interviews, it was clear that Quetta was no innocent. She was ready to play hardball. The check was all he needed to see.
“Listen Mrs. Blackburn, my tactics as a lawyer have been described as wily… devious and by some men, illegal.”
“I don’t care. All I want is to walk away from this divorce with exactly what I’m worth.”
“And exactly how much do you think you’re worth Mrs. Blackburn?”
“At least $200 million.”
“Alright. Tell me more about what’s happening with you and your husband.”
Quetta sat down and began to tell Vlad about everything that was happening with her husband. It was a shame how quickly everything seemed to deconstruct. She had grown accustomed to the idea of a forever with Kareem but everything had turned sour fast. Getting drafted in the league had seemed like a dream come true at the time. Now Quetta was wondering if her relationship had been ruined the moment Kareem signed his contract. Everything had changed. The moment he’d gone from her man to a media darling, her life was completely different.
“Kareem and I met in high school. I was part of the Christian Students Association and back then I’d taken a vow of chastity which included not dating any boys until I turned eighteen. Kareem honored my promise to wait and I supported his dream to play basketball. We started dating our first year of college. I still kept my promise, no matter what people thought. And he remained committed to me. I still remember after practice every day, we would hole up in my dorm room with our Bibles and talk about the word of the Lord…”
Vlad was trying to focus on Quetta’s story but reading the Bible together was not how he thought this was going to start. But Quetta was making a good point: when had it all gone wrong? How could a perfect couple that was so committed to each other fall apart so fast? Was the allure of money, cheap sex and power so great that it could break a bond made between two devout soulmates?
Quetta was continuing, “When Kareem signed his contract I was so happy… We had just been married and I’d just entered into a perfect relationship with my perfect man. I’d done everything exactly the way God had asked of me. Kareem was reaping the blessings of his faith too. I felt like nothing could go wrong. But it was only about a year or so before things began to change.”
Now this was the good stuff… Vlad thought to himself.
“He started lying to me. I didn’t know he was lying to me but I could tell. Our relationship with each other and with God was starting to falter. I hated it… I hated playing the perfect couple for the cameras and at all the ball games while knowing he was lying to me. It hurt so much to have to be that person who was being dishonest. But I didn’t dare let up the image. After a while, I started doing my research. If I’d found out it was just one time…” Quetta started tearing up.
Vlad waited, stoic for her to continue. A part of him felt for her but another part of him wondered what on earth she expected with a man who played in the NBA.
“If it was just one time I could have forgiven him. God would have wanted me to forgive him. But that wasn’t it. It was more than one time, with more than one person and after I tried to forgive him, he lied and did the same thing all over again. God wants me to forgive, but he doesn’t want me to ruin my life for a man who don’t love me no more. Kareem might think he still loves me, but he don’t. And when he realizes that he don’t, I’m gonna suffer. Are you capable of helping me Mr. Romanov?”
“I’ll help you Mrs. Blackburn. But… Please, call me Vlad.”
This book will be coming to Amazon very shortly. I hope you enjoy the free sample. If you want to stay updated on the book, join my mailing list and you'll be the first to find out when it drops! Click here to join the list. When the book is live, I'll update this blog with the links to where you can find the book. This book will be included in Kindle Unlimited. To read more chapters free before the book drops, check out my Patreon.
Hello everyone! This free sample of Killer Love is shorter than what's available on my Patreon. If you would like a longer sample, you can sign up to my Patreon for as little as $1.49 a month. [[CLICK HERE TO GO TO PATREON]]
Keep reading to get to your free sample. KILLER LOVE is a BWWM mafia romance and is slated to be my first gripping romance between a black woman and white man for the year.
Check out the description:
Ryan’s been my best friend since 7th grade.
Nothing has happened between us.
Nothing can ever happen between us.
His family runs the local Italian mafia
I know he’s done things he isn’t proud of.
His rough life isn’t for me…
I prefer “playing it safe”.
Gina’s like a sister to me.
Lately, she’s been getting protective.
I’m done wondering “what if” about us.
I’m going after the woman I want.
I need her in my bed. I won’t take “no” for an answer.
I’m done playing it safe.
FREE Romance Novel Excerpt | Killer Love by Jamila Jasper
“She sounds like a psycho.”
I couldn’t help being honest with him. Ryan chuckled.
“She’s not a psycho,” he responded.
I leaned back in my chair, pulling the blankets up to my neck. The cold front blowing across the Eastern seaboard was no match for my parents heating system.
“OK,” I gave him a little wiggle room, “Tell me the story again.”
“We went out for a date at Dino’s, then we went back to my car… we… you know…”
“Had sex?” I filled in.
“Yeah we had sex,” Ry chuckled, “You don’t have to say it like its an accusation.”
I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to think about was Ryan Maggio having sex. Ew.
“Go on,” I prodded him.
“Then she told me she loved me.”
“And that’s a perfectly normal response to you?”
He shrugged, “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Enough!” I shrilled.
Ryan chuckled then kept on with his story.
“She showed up at my house the next day and was like all into it saying she loved me and she wanted us to get married. I dunno, it’s a little fast but she’s cute and I think she’s just one of those intense girls.”
“Intensely crazy…” I grumbled.
“She has issues okay,” Ryan defended her, frustrating me even more, “She called me the other day all drunk and confused to pick her up… I can’t just leave her.”
“Ryan,” I huffed, “Listen to yourself. You’ve only been on dates with her. And if I recall correctly, you found her two blocks down from your place. She barely seemed drunk. Read the signs!”
I could tell Ryan was boiling on the other end of the line.
“You don’t know everything,” he huffed.
“I don’t,” I replied calmly, “But I know a crazy ass basket case when I see one.”
Ryan replied gruffly, “Some women are just intense. Not every girl’s all cold and restrained like you Gina.”
I stood up.
“How. Dare. You.”
Ryan and I never fought. Ever since he’d started seeing Kate, that had changed. Two dates had been all it took for him to fall under her spell. I could spot a woman like her a mile away. She uses pity to get her way, all the while playing men around her like a fiddle.
I blew up at him. Perhaps the living room wasn’t the best setting for the conversation because my parents eyed me with concern as I imagined Ryan’s were on the other end of the line. (I’d heard his mom Nicki shush his father at an alarming volume earlier.)
“You know what Ryan, I don’t have to help you. You can keep dating batshit crazy girls and when they ruin you, you’ll have only yourself to blame.”
“Bit harsh Gina.”
“No, it’s not harsh. You need to pull yourself together Ry! I’ve known you for decades and you keep chasing after all the wrong girls. I’m getting tired of it.”
“As I said,” Ryan’s voice grew cold, “Not all of us can be emotionless like you.”
“I have to go,” I huffed.
“Yeah?” He replied, “So do I. I’m going to call Kate.”
“You do that. But when she gets your ass into trouble, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I pulled my smartphone away from my ear and slammed on the red “end call” button.
“Ugh!” I huffed.
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Bound & Gagged isn't just one of those books similar to 50 Shades of Grey. It gives you something much, much different. Yes, there's plenty of steamy sex. Yes, there's a HOT interracial romance between a black woman and white man. But there's also a story of deep and passionate love that you won't want to miss.
In this novel, African American women who love romantic stories will find important representation. They'll find lust, passion, and lots of hot sex.
This book is so controversial that the negative reviews about "too much sex" could have deterred me from publishing.
But I write for the women who LOVE to push the envelope...
Interested in learning more? Keep reading to get the full description and a steamy excerpt from this kinky novel.
(If you want to just buy the novel without reading further, you can get it here for $4.99: http://amzn.to/2tTeyIY)
After taking one look at May Roberts, Ben knows he has to have her.
But he's a player known for breaking hearts and May is tired of playing games.
After a night of the hottest sex she's ever experienced, May promises herself it won't happen again.
But something about Ben awakens kinky cravings she never knew she had. It's hard to stay away from him after lusty late night romps
...in his BMW
...in coat check
... and all over the city
Ben must convince her that he's changed, but with his shady past, he has an uphill battle ahead.
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...
Get this book right now: http://amzn.to/2tTeyIY
Or... Check out the excerpt below.
Books Similar To 50 Shades of Grey Excerpts: Bound & Gagged
“Nice place,” Ben asserted once he entered May’s house.
He stood in her foyer with his hands in his pockets, taking in every inch of her wall space and home. The place was spotless, as usual, with New England country design. May flicked on the light and kept her eyes on Ben. If he was going to expose himself as a creepy killer, he’d probably start now.
“Wow,” He said, “Well… Take me to the Etta James.”
“Bourbon. No ice,” He replied.
May took her shoes off and walked into the living room. She gestured towards her eggshell colored sofa and offered Ben a seat.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll take my station at the record player.”
May’s vinyl collection was the focal point of the room. Her shelves were organized by decade and then alphabetically by artist. Her record player was wiped clean and inside, there was Purple Rain — an artifact from last week’s “date night” when May had danced alone in her undies to Prince for three hours.
Ben ran his hands through her records, searching for one that caught his eye, so May took that opportunity to pour them both glasses of bourbon. She hadn’t quite reached Ben’s level of appreciation for whiskey, so she added a bit of ginger ale to hers and copious amounts of ice. May always thought of her grandfather when she poured a glass of bourbon.
She re-emerged and found Ben placing a Whitney Houston record on her turntable.
“Modern,” May said, “Bourbon?”
Ben walked towards her and grabbed the bourbon. Standing inches away from her, he was growing tired of playing this game. He wanted to take her now — sweep her off her feet and get those feet behind her head. Whitney Houston and bourbon was putting him in a mood that he no longer wanted to ignore.
Ben downed the glass in one big gulp and slammed it down on the shelf.
“Aren’t you supposed to sip bourbon?” May teased shyly.
Ben shook his head, “Sipping takes too long. I prefer to get my liquor hard… and fast…”
He moved closer to May and then plucked her drink from her hand, setting it down next to his empty glass.
“Ben…” She started.
“Don’t say anything,” He replied, “Just let this happen… And admit you always knew this was going to happen.”
May closed her eyes and allowed Ben’s lips to touch hers. Holy shit. Kissing him send jolts of electric energy surging through her body, forcing her to stand at attention. May pulled away with widened eyes. For something so wrong, it felt so right.
“Ben, we can’t do this. We just met,” May whispered.
“Then why does it feel like we’ve known each other a thousand years?”
This time, he grabbed her. Ben clutched May’s waist as he pulled her close to him and kissed her. This time, his tongue thrust down her throat and her heart ached with anxiety and excitement. He was right — she didn’t want to say no.
May pressed her palms against Ben’s chest. She felt his lion’s heart beating slow and dull. He was calm, as if he’d orchestrated the entire evening. He felt none of her prey animal jitters, just desire.
“Please… We need to stop.”
“Why…” He growled, his lips pressed to May’s neck as he sucked her flesh between them.
“Ohhh,” May moaned, as his tongue flicked over one of the most sensitive spots on her neck.
She didn’t recall what question he’d asked. Ben’s hands clutched her ass cheeks and he lifted her off the ground. May wrapped her thighs tightly around his muscled physique and allowed him to kiss her like this. Ben pressed her against the nearest wall and allowed his fingers to run through her hair as he kissed her.
May squeezed her thighs around Ben and ran her hands through his hair. His cologne had a cinnamon and citrus scent that drove her mad. His thick tufts of hair beneath her finger tips also pushed May over the edge of desire. She wasn’t sure what had come over her — what had possessed her to leap into Ben’s arms. She knew nothing about him, but her body propelled her forward like this.
Ben carried May to another wall and pressed her up against the wall as he kissed her lips and neck.
“I can’t wait to take you upstairs and fuck your brains out,” He whispered.
May was taken aback by the dirty talk. It wasn’t typical for guys that she’d just met to go that far on the first night. But coming from Ben, she felt her pussy getting wet. That was exactly what she wanted from him. Ben set May on the ground and then turned her around, pressing her against the wall.
“Before I fuck you upstairs, I’m going to pin you down and fuck you against this wall until you scream.”
May did nothing to resist. She pressed her hands against the wall and stuck her ass out. Ben hiked her skirt up and slid her underwear to the ground.
“Mmm,” He groaned when he saw May’s perfect, large ass.
Her butt cheeks were large, round and juicy. May jiggled her ass cheeks a little, tantalizing Ben and activating his desires for her further. He rubbed the area of May’s ass cheeks and felt his cock stirring to attention. For a woman with such a slim waist, May’s butt was deliciously large.
Ben got down on his knees and grabbed May’s thighs.
“Don’t turn around,” He commanded, “Just feel.”
May closed her eyes, waiting for what was coming next. She expected to feel Ben’s member sliding towards her pussy, but instead, she felt the warm wetness of Ben’s tongue touch the soft area between her legs.
“Ahh,” May moaned.
She had no idea what she was in for. Ben squeezed her thighs tighter and began to move his tongue smoothly across the length of her pussy.
“Yes! Oh yes…” May cooed.
Ben began to lap at her pussy faster and faster. His lips suckled around May’s engorged clit as he licked the length of her pussy, even allowing his tongue to dare graze her puckered asshole.
“Ohhh!” May cried out as his tongue grazed against the forbidden hole again.
Ben stood up and then pressed May into the wall further with his body.
“Stay still,” He whispered, “I’m going to fuck you now.”
May remained still and she could hear Ben undoing his pants. She could feel the heat of his cock pressing up against her ass cheeks as he kissed the back of her neck and shoulders.
“Condom?” May asked.
“Yes,” Ben replied.
As he answered her, he shoved the full length of his sheathed cock into her wetness. May let out a loud squeal. Ben began to pummel into her pussy. He gripped her waist and fucked her against the wall, right there in her foyer. May began to cry out louder and louder as she felt her body approaching climax.
When Ben’s cock first slid inside her pussy he felt incredibly huge — bigger than any guy she’d been with. Now, May struggled to accommodate each powerful thrust. He was pounding into her harder and harder. Her pussy juiced with each thrust and May found herself gasping and gasping until she reached release.
“Ohhh yess!” May cried out as she came.
Feeling her tightness grabbing onto his cock like a vice, Ben pulled out of her.
“Take me upstairs,” He demanded.
May turned around and caught a glimpse of the monster cock Ben was packing. His lust muscle was even bigger than she’d envisioned it. She couldn’t wait to impale herself on his dick again and allow herself stronger and stronger climaxes than ever before.
May led Ben upstairs to her bedroom. She saw the look of animalistic desire in his eyes. She saw that he wanted her more than everything and that he’d been hunting her from the moment he’d seen her. May had to admit to herself that it felt good to be a prize to a man like Ben. He could have had any girl in the room but he’d chosen her — the klutz that had caused a public scene at a fancy restaurant.
Once in the bedroom, May turned to face him with a smile on her face.
“Wow… You’re… really big,” She said.
Ben grinned, “Oh yeah? Never noticed.”
“Turn around sweetheart before you lose a chance to experience all of this.”
“I think I’ll need help getting out of these clothes,” May teased.
Ben rushed to her and unzipped her dress. He stripped it off of her and then unhooked her bra. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of May fully nude and his cock twitched to attention again.
May turned away from him and positioned herself on all fours like he’d demanded. With baby hairs slicked to her head with sweat and makeup running off her face, May found herself desperate for another climax. She felt Ben climb into the bed behind her. She felt his warm, large hands running all over her flesh and then she felt his cock lining up with her tightness.
“Mmhmm,” May whimpered. Ben shoved the full length of his cock into her with one stroke.
May cried out and Ben continued to pound into her harder and harder. He felt himself coming close to climax, close to claiming this beautiful dark-skinned beauty as his own. May moaned and cried out as she came; she thrust her hips back against Ben as she writhed in orgasm. Unable to contain himself a second longer, Ben grunted and emptied himself into the condom that separated their flesh.
He squeezed May’s hips as he came and then slowly removed his long member from her tightness. They both gasped for breath, high from the intensity of the climaxes between them.
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