steamy romance novels

BWWM Books: Out Of Bondage

bwwm books out of bondage bwwm mafia romance jamila jasperThe final installment in an incredible trilogy of BWWM books. This sweet romance novel is perfect for people who love romantic stories about the mafia. If you've followed the story of Eve and Nico, I guarantee you'll find this steamy romance novel a satisfying finish.

(If you're not an Amazon customer, here is a universal link to all book stores where this book is available: https://www.books2read.com/u/m2oqvk

This story has everything -- true love, steamy passion and a happily ever after ending.

This book received the best reviews for the entire series so trust me when I say it will be well worth the read...

Check it out here: http://amzn.to/2tTWqi7

Or you can continue reading to get a taste of the description and the excerpt I've included below. 

WARNING: There may be spoilers below. If you haven't read the series and you want to know where to start, try out Book #1 and Book #2 first.

Book #1: http://amzn.to/2sB0gbV

Book #2: http://amzn.to/2tTEJ1Y

Description:

A dead man rises with the intent to destroy Eve and Nico's wedding.

They have one last battle to fight before they can leave the mafia forever.

While their love deepens, a threat to their lives looms on the horizon.

The strength of their marriage will determine their way out of bondage. 

Intrigued? Click here to get the full-length novel: http://amzn.to/2tTWqi7

BWWM Books Excerpts: Out Of Bondage

 

Chapter 1

Italian Spring possessed an energy unlike any other. Not even New England could compare to the gentle chill, the cool breeze that wafted through the land and the eruptions of green and coiled pink flowers wherever she went. Her wedding day had arrived quickly. Her family had left Boston and flown to Italy to sit alongside Nico’s friends, and the few family members he trusted to keep his location and the news of his wedding safe.

 

Domenico, his reclusive uncle, and Edoardo made up most of Nico’s wedding party. And of course, Edoardo was joined by Martina, who had invited a few of her friends from the modeling world. Daniella joined Domenico, accompanied by her mother. Domenico was Nico’s best man and Eve’s sister was her maid of honor. Daniella stood as one of her bridesmaids along with Eve’s cousins and a couple second cousins who were particularly close to her family.

 

The church was hardly filled, but that was how Eve had envisioned things with Nico. They were destined to have a small and intimate wedding, a counterbalance to the feverish vibration of their relationship. Matteo was the ring-bearer and although he’d been practicing for weeks, all who had been involved in the planning secretly feared that Matteo would toss the ring onto the altar as if he were throwing away a piece of trash.

 

Light classical piano drifted through the wedding in anticipation of its start. Eve had yet to see Nico for the day. She’d been calling him her husband for months in advance, but actually being here on her wedding day still felt surreal. That morning, she’d woken up alone after a night of imbibing near-toxic levels of cranberry vodka cocktails. Thanks to Martina’s hangover cure, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the wedding, with an unusual sparkling glow. The dress she’d chosen with Daniella looked even better than she’d anticipated, and the makeup on her face was light enough to just accentuate her bold, beautiful African features. 

 

Soon, Eve would hear the call to walk down the aisle. Accompanied by her father, Gerald Morgan, Eve would finally be led to her husband’s side. Eve and her father weren’t particularly close, but she knew this moment meant a lot to him. Gerald was from a generation where being close to your kids didn’t matter. What mattered was providing for them and giving them the opportunity to raise up right. And Eve knew that her father was proud of her: for her business, for her son and now for her marriage.

 

Her mother was in the front row of the audience, dressed to the nines. She had a church hat that threatened to hit everyone surrounding her in the face, and of course her hat was coordinated perfectly with her Chanel suit (a gift from Nico to his future mother-in-law) and the pair of designer heels she only brought out for special occasions. 

 

The wedding march began. Eve felt her father’s comforting hand on her shoulder as he linked arms with her. The bridesmaids and maid of honor titillated around Eve, falling into line as she took her first steps out into the church. All eyes were glued to her, the celebrity for a day, as she walked to meet her husband. The veil draped over Eve’s head, obscuring her vision of the crowd, helping her to feel less nervous about the fact that they were all staring. 

 

Petals from white roses fell before her feet as she walked in unity with the music towards the place where Nico stood. Nico’s black tuxedo draped over him perfectly. Eve could just make out the stunned look in his eyes as he saw her for the first time on her wedding day with the same excitement in his eyes from the day they’d first met. Through her veil, Eve detected a tear, streaming readily down Nico’s cheek. Her beauty could bring men to tears. 

 

Nico wasn’t the only one. As Gerald Morgan gave his daughter away, Eve detected tears in his eyes too. Even her stoic, distant father couldn’t help but be moved by the ceremony that had yet to begin. As the ceremony continued, the words of the priest melded together in a mash of glorious praise, prayers and well wishes. Matteo delivered the ring without incident and when Eve finally heard the words, “You may kiss the bride”, it was like she had just woken up from a long dream.

 

The audience gazed at her and Nico. Her husband raised the veil over her head and looked into her eyes for the first time as her husband… Not just her boyfriend, not just her lover, but the man she had now committed to spend the rest of her life with. In that instance, her doubts felt like distant fuzzy memories. All she could think about was how right this all felt.

 

All she could do was lean in and allow Nico to grasp her waist and sweep her off her feet as he planted his lips against hers. Whether it was appropriate or not, Eve’s side of the church whooped and cheered. She was the first of her generation to get married and the fact that she had such a gilded wedding in Italy- of all places- made the Morgans a very excitable bunch.

 

Nico released her from his embrace and they stared into each others eyes like giddy teenagers waiting for the final words of the ceremony, followed by the priest’s dismissal. Eve could feel her heart racing furiously, begging for this part to be over so they could begin the celebration and  leave on the honeymoon that they’d been looking forward to since the day Nico had proposed to her. 

 

Attention moved from the happy couple when the doors of the church burst open. Eve froze in place, looking outwards as all the heads in the church turned to look at what she saw. She cast a glance at her husband and saw that all the color had left his face.

 

A man walked into the church, a man who looked like Nico’s shadow self. They had all the same features except his were more haggard. His mouth was twisted up in cruelty and his eyes had embers of hatred burning just beneath the surface.

 

“Luca…” Nico whispered.

 

His twin brother’s name. But this was impossible. Luca was dead. He’d been killed years ago. Luca smiled as he watched the color rush from Nico’s face. He took sadistic pleasure from just the surprise he’d caused Nico. Luca hadn’t come alone.

 

He strode down the aisle, crushing the rose petals beneath his muddy boots with malice. Everyone in the church stood frozen. Luca was trailed by five men, each heavily armed. Edoardo cast a glance at Martina as they saw them. He hadn’t predicted this. He had eyes on the church for weeks, and he’d kept his finger on the pulse of all the whispers in Italy. If this sneak attack were coming, he should have been able to predict it easily.

 

“This is impossible,” He whispered into Martina’s ear.

 

She squeezed his arm tightly without saying a word. Eve’s parents and family looked to her for answers. Why were there men in a church — and this church of all places — armed with automatic weapons that looked better fit for combat than for a wedding. The guns followed Luca to the altar. He gave his brother a wink before he grabbed the microphone from the priest.

 

In troubled English, he began to speak, “Good morning… guests… I am here to inform you of a tragic mistake on the part of my brother… He planned to get married but he did not invite me to the wedding… What a mistake… A mistake that he shall pay for… Do not move, do not run or I will have my men slaughter each and every one of you.”

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Dark Romance Books: Mad Mafia Love | Jamila Jasper Interracial Mafia Romance

dark romance books mad mafia love jamila jasper Mad Mafia Love is one of Jamila's dark romance books and her first mafia romance novel. Interracial romance book lovers will find themselves turning the pages of this best-selling steamy romance novel desperate to read Book #2 and Book #3. 

That's right. Mad Mafia Love is just the first book in a steamy, action packed interracial mafia romance trilogy.

I don't want to give away too much of the story, but suffice it to say, like many of my other books Mad Mafia Love was controversial.

I think some people just can't handle a strong black woman dealing with a sexy alpha male... 

On the other hand, I believe black women can and should have FUN. Even if it means getting into a bit of danger.

Read the description below and decide for yourself.

Already intrigued? Get the book here: http://amzn.to/2sB0gbV

Description 

Eve never thought she'd fall for a guy in the mafia. 

But Nico is persistent and refuses to take no for an answer.

He wants to make Eve his... No matter the cost.

She can't allow herself to fall in love with a guy like that. 

But she does.

And her life changes forever.

This BWWM novel is an extra-steamy read so hot it might melt your Kindle.

Sound hot? Find it right here: http://amzn.to/2sB0gbV

Or... you can keep reading for the excerpt below.

Dark Romance Books Excerpt: Mad Mafia Love

 

PROLOGUE

Nico

April 2016 

Boston

 

America smelled like coffee, cigarettes and car exhaust. The country differed from Italy in all the worst ways. The highways rushed along, the cars were all shiny and tacky, unlike sleek Italian made vehicles. But there was no going back to Italy now. The sweet smell of the aging architecture and the damp smells of Venice would no longer remain a part of Nico’s daily fare.

 

If Nico so much as set foot in the old village, his father would know. He was in America for better or for worse. Nico didn’t want his father keeping tabs on him anymore. He knew he’d attracted a lot of attention with his recent stunt and Giuseppe would be angry. He didn’t take too kindly to betrayal. And from his perspective, Nico had betrayed him. 

 

At least there were some positives in this country. Here, he would have some hope of becoming anonymous. Americans hit you with their rawness and their honesty too. Nico knew that finding loyal men in America would be far easier than it would have been in Italy. He couldn’t hope to stand up to his father in the country where his father had spent most of his life forging alliances and stoking fears. 

 

Nico’s hands dipped into his pocket and he felt around for the tiny velvet satchel that held his freedom. That would keep his father from killing him. Nico was on his way to the safety deposit box — thirty miles out of the city in a random, quiet Massachusetts town — to deposit the satchel. He’d die before he told his father where he was hiding the tiny bag.

 

Nico thought about what had happened back in Italy, just days before he was supposed to touch down in the so-called land of the free with his twin brother. Nico had changed his flight at the last minute and managed to get a head start on Luca. The two were finally supposed to come to America and join Giuseppe, carrying out his dirty work in the land of consequences. Sensing Nico’s reluctance to leave what he had in Italy behind, his father had commanded the unthinkable. Nico was left without a choice.

 

And too many people were left without justice.

 

Nico’s twin brother could no longer harm him anymore. He’d carried out the unthinkable on the behalf of his father, and Nico had ensured that his twin brother would never hurt anyone again. Nico didn’t give a damn about his father’s wrath anymore. He’d spent his lifetime cowered n fear, always terrified to betray the family. But what did “family” mean after what his father had ordered and after what his twin brother had done? 

 

Giuseppe had pushed too far and he’d made an enemy out of his son — the softer of the twin brothers. But he’d messed with the wrong one. Luca might have been more violent and more sadistic than his brother, but he lacked Nico’s precision and sense of justice. He underestimated the fact that Nico would retaliate. 

 

Now, they were all paying for it. It had been a few days since Nico had thought of his twin brother.

 

(Tall Luca. Handsome Luca. Luca who pulled the legs off of living flies. Luca who laughed as he drove the knife into her belly.) 

 

Luca had always made people uneasy, Nico made men want to fight for him. He was strong, suave and he had inherited all of Giuseppe’s good traits. (It seemed Luca had inherited all of Giuseppe’s worst traits.) Nico wasn’t going to let his father get away with what he’d done. And as it turned out, Giuseppe had made more than a few enemies since he first set foot in Boston in 1970. Nico was just biding his time.

 

He walked into the bank and greeted the sweet teller who had helped him the last time. Beth Curtis was a sweet New England blonde who was utterly charmed by the tall, handsome man with the heavy Italian accent. She thought Nico didn’t notice, but he did, and he used his charm to distract her from what he was doing here. The less she knew the better. The less she knew, the less danger her life would be in. As far as she knew, Nico was just another foreign businessman. And his name wasn’t Nico. 

 

“Good afternoon Mister Ricardo,” Beth started.

 

“Good afternoon madam,” Nico said, taking Beth’s hand and kissing it.

 

She blushed. And then she looked down bashfully. 

 

“I suppose you’d like to head to the box today?”

 

“Yes, I’d finally like to make a deposit.”

 

“And your drive down here was alright?”

 

“My drive?”

 

Beth was flirting, Nico could tell. But that didn’t rid him of his paranoia. Giuseppe could have ears in all kinds of places. If this woman had any idea that he was from Boston proper, Nico would have cause to turn around and walk out of that bank, finding another city to make his deposit. 

 

“There was an accident over on Main Street this morning,” Beth continued.

 

Nico relaxed his posture a bit.

 

“Ah. Yes. It was no trouble for me getting down here.”

 

“Didn’t catch any of the gory details?”

 

“I’m afraid not.”

“Alrighty. Well, let me get your key Mr. Ricardo.”

 

She wandered to the back. To Beth, Nico Riccardi was Nicholas Ricardo, Americanized and utterly mundane, in no way connected to one of the biggest mafia families in Boston. She had bought his story, believing without a doubt that he was an investment banker who had retired early in a small town. His forged documents raised no red flags and Nico was in the clear to make this final deposit and ensure his safety. Thank you Bill for the good quality documents. 

 

While Giuseppe had friends here, Nico had even more. And he had plenty of men on his side who were tired of the tyranny. Like Nico, they wanted to be free. 

 

Beth returned from behind the counter holding the key to safety deposit box #3991. Nico followed her down the hallway to the box. He could tell Beth was trying to walk the walk and put on a show for him. She’d come too close to asking him out a number of times. Beth wasn’t his type. She was Irish for one thing. Her hair was a strawberry blonde color that looked almost faded. Her skin was so pale it was almost see through and Beth was too skinny in all the wrong places.

 

Nico was a traditional Italian man. He loved his women with bronzed or dark skin. He craved a partner who had a little meat on her bones. Someone like her. The woman who wasn’t Beth. The woman who he’d left behind in Italy. The woman who he would never see again thanks to his father. 

 

Beth tiptoed upwards and unlocked the box. An old Bible (printed in 1890), a solid gold rosary and now, the tiny velvet bag, lay in the safety deposit box.

 

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

 

“Going to tell me what’s in the bag?”

 

She was flirting again. Nico was still uninterested. But he observed her with amusement. She wrapped her wiry strawberry blonde hair around her finger and smiled at him with her overly perfect teeth. He could smell the fact that she smoked cigarettes on her breath. He usually didn’t mind (nearly every woman in Italy smoked) but today, he found evidence of the habit off-putting.

 

“No thank you ma’am,” Nico responded to her with a smile.

 

He could see Beth’s disappointment. She wanted in on the joke and she didn’t take too kindly to Nico’s rejection. He’d have to leave her with some hope. That would keep her well-behaved and quiet. Some hope that this handsome Italian man could really be interested in a girl like her would keep Beth Curtis right where he wanted her. 

 

“I hope when I come into town again, I’ll be able to see your beautiful face once again.”

 

Beth smiled, failing to be casual about receiving a compliment like that.

 

“Wow… Well Mr. Ricardo, I hope to see you again soon.” 

 

She locked the safety deposit box and led Nico to the front of the bank. She looked at him expectantly, hoping that he’d ask her on a date or do something more forward.

 

“Goodbye Beth,” Nico replied, taking Beth’s hand and planting a kiss on her hand.

 

Her face turned scarlet and Nico flashed her a wink. That would have to be enough for now. He walked out of the bank and got in his car, turning it towards Boston. He’d have to ditch this car as soon as he got back into the city. His buddy Paul was going to buy this one off of him and he’d turn up with a nice, respectable black sedan sure to fly under the radar. And it would be Italian made too. Thank goodness, Nico was tired of this clunky death trap.

 

Nico knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge his father for long. Giuseppe had many enemies, that was true, but he also had plenty of friends. Or whatever you called people who owed you favors. At least his father didn’t have his attack dog Luca by his side any longer. If 

 

The drive back to Boston was long and boring. Nico tried the country music station, the news but eventually settled on classical music. Classical music always reminded him of Italy. But it also reminded him of her. Nico grit his teeth and tried to fight back tears. What his father had done was unacceptable. He’d taken away the one thing that Nico loved most on the planet. The one woman he had truly loved was gone.

 

Nico knew that was it for him. He’d never love again. In America, how could there be another woman like her? Women in America were more like Beth. They were plain. They were regular. They didn’t have the taste for adventure, the zest for life that a purebred Italian man like Nico was looking for. Nico’s hopes and dreams for the future had died along with her. 

 

Hence this suicide mission. That’s why Nico found himself looking for problems with Giuseppe Riccardi of all the people on this godforsaken planet. His father was a dangerous man, but a man with nothing to lose is far more dangerous than Giuseppe realized. Without a care in the world except for his revenge, Nico was unstoppable. 

 

When he got off the exit in Boston, he checked his rearview mirror. No one following. He hadn’t been able to leave his paranoia in Italy unfortunately. There was traffic down towards the city and Nico found himself itching for a drink. 

 

He’d have to ditch this car first, then drink. Traffic oozed along at an irritating pace. Nico’s phone was ringing off the hook. Paul hated lateness. Nico hated being told what to do. Paul would just have to wait. He’d paid the guy well for his services, so he could stand to wait a few minutes. 

 

Finally, he found himself pulling over to an old garage near Alewife station. 

 

Nico parked his car and got out, scanning the place for Paul. His palms were sweaty. No sign of Paul meant that he could have been intercepted. How much more blood could Giuseppe get on his hands? Paul reached into his waistband, clutching the steel handle as he walked further into the garage.

 

“Hey hey hey buddy!” He heard Paul’s deep booming voice coming from the inside of the garage.

 

Nico’s hand darted away from the gun. Nothing to worry about. From the sound of it, Paul was his usual self. 

 

“Buddy!” He said with a big, broad smile.

 

“You alright?” Paul shook his hand, a formal greeting compared to what Nico was accustomed to in Italy. 

 

“Yes. I just need to get rid of this piece of shit.”

 

“Piece of shit, huh?”

 

Paul started walking towards Nico’s car, eyeing it up and down as he got close. 

 

“This is some piece of shit,” Paul chuckled. 

 

He didn’t understand quality cars the way Nico did. Loyal to American brands to a fault, Paul probably thought this car was just fine. At least that would make it easy to move. Nico needed to ditch every piece of evidence that could be traced back to his real identity now that he was here. 

 

Paul reached into his pocket. Nico felt his heart jump again. Paul just pulled out a box of cigarettes.

 

“Want one?”

“No thank you.”

 

Paul shoved the Marlboro into his mouth and lit up. The slimy scent of tobacco slithered into Nico’s nostrils against his will. He pursed his lips and waited for Paul to give his assessment.

“Well it’s in the condition you said it would be in.”

 

“I’m a man of my word.”

Paul chuckled and took in a long slow drag punctuated by a hacking cough.

 

“Well, perfect. All you need is twenty-thousand cash and the car will be yours.”

“No problem.”

 

Nico opened up the trunk and pulled out a black duffel bag.

 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

 

“It was cash you wanted right?”

 

“Well, I figured you’d write me a fuckin’ check.”

 

Paul’s Boston accent appeared to be getting thicker as he was confronted with more money than he knew what to deal with.

 

“No time for checks.”

 

“What kind of bullshit are you up to buddy?”

“Bullshit that you shouldn’t worry about,” Nico said, flashing Paul a smile while his icy blue eyes bore into him, warning him against asking too many more questions.

 

“Great. The Audi’s out back.”

 

Paul knew better than to ask too many questions too. He didn’t have any specifics about what Nico was up to, but he was also too smart to ask. 

 

“Perfect.” 

 

Paul picked up the duffel bag and Nico dropped the keys to his old ride into Paul’s leathered palm. Paul dropped the duffel on the ground in the center of the garage and continued to lead Nico to his prize. Nico grinned from ear to ear when he saw the car, exactly as he’d ordered it. A brand new 2017 Audi A4. Sleek, black, Italian and just cheap enough that it would fly under the radar. 

 

“She’s beautiful,” Nico said.

“Isn’t she? Nice fuckin’ car. Drives real nice.”

 

“Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to hold onto this one.”

 

“If you head back to old Italia?”

 

Nico smiled but didn’t reply. He didn’t think he’d be going back to Italy. He figured that he’d die here, right on American soil. It hurt to think about, but everything had hurt since she had died. There wasn’t a single moment of Nico’s life that wasn’t pure agony.

 

“Keys?”

 

“Sure. Sure thing buddy.”

 

Paul fumbled around in his deep pockets and pulled out the keys. 

“Well, why don’t I take her for a spin. I’ll drop by tomorrow if I have any issues.”

 

“Of course.”

“I’ll remember this favor Paul.”

 

“T’was no problem buddy.”

 

Nico got into the driver’s seat. The smell of new leather intoxicated him instantly. He pushed the button to start the car. The engine was smooth, silent and sexy. Mmm. Maybe he’d sworn off women but he could love the hell out of a brand new car. Nico waved to Paul and eased the beauty out of the garage. 

 

Nico’s buddy Paul was his “car guy” but Nico also had a guy who was renowned for making people disappear. He needed to be invisible in Boston. He knew if he walked down the wrong streets, walked into the wrong shops, he’d be vulnerable in an instant. Giuseppe would slit his throat and dump him into the harbor if he got the chance. Nico approached the park where he was supposed to meet up with Nolan. Nolan Lamb was a real scummy kind of guy, the kind of guy who made the back of your hairs stand up. He smiled at the wrong times, he stood too close to you and he was all around bad news.

 

But he was also loyal. Nico waited patiently in his new car, scanning his surroundings while he waited to see Nolan marked by his signature blue Red Sox cap. Nico relaxed as he realized he hadn’t been followed. Setting foot in the United States had driven him to perpetual agitation. Nolan was late. Of course. But it wasn’t too long before Nico saw the tall, strapping man sit down on a park bench and adjust his Red Sox cap. He sat patiently, waiting for Nico to appear. 

 

Nico got out of his car; he didn’t allow Nolan to spot which car he’d come out of and he walked around the park out of sight until he approached Nolan from behind.

 

“Signor Lamb,” Nico greeted him.

 

Nolan knew who he was from his greeting and he turned around slowly.

 

“Nee-Ko,” He greeted him, stretching out the syllables in his thick Boston accent, rolling Nico’s name around his mouth.

 

“I assume you found a suitable place for me?”

 

Nolan nodded, “Sure did. It’s fuckin’ nice too.”

“Yeah?” 

 

“Oh yeah. Townhouse near Cambridge. You’ll be invisible among all these Harvard fucks.”

 

“Cigarette?” Nolan continued.

 

“No thank you,” Nico replied.

 

Nolan pulled out his box of Camels and lit up.

 

“Here’s the address,” He said, fishing for an index card in his pocket.

 

The smell of tobacco on his breath was pungent. Nolan had a wound on his right hand that looked like he’d grabbed onto a knife. Nico mused that whoever had tried to stab the guy probably had very good reason.

 

“Keys?”

 

“Yup,” Nolan replied, taking a long drag and then searching his deep pocket for a single bronzed key.

 

“What’s the security like on the place?”

Nolan grinned. 

 

“Heh. We’ve done a good job of it. Trust me. Some motherfucker would need to really want to get at you.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Plus, I got my wife to decorate the place. I know you said you wanted it furnished.”

 

“Thank you Nolan.”

 

He wondered how the hell someone like Nolan had ended up married in the first place. Nico imagined his wife was some poor Massachusetts girl who had never left Boston and settled for anyone who would put food on the table and babies in her belly. Nico knew her well enough to know his guess was probably accurate. 

 

“No problem pal. You know I owe you one.”

Nico smiled. Nolan didn’t. Nolan did owe him one. Nolan’s inappropriate behavior had nearly landed him in a whole lot of trouble a few years ago. Without Nico, he’d be rotting in some state prison somewhere. Nico didn't do it because Nolan was a good guy, but because his wife was a decent woman and there was no way she’d be able to feed their kids on his own.

 

“I’ll check out the place then.”

 

“Sure thing,” Nolan said standing up, “Call me if there’s any trouble.”

“I will.”

 

Nico sat on the park bench and watched as Nolan walked away from him. Nolan was grinning as he walked to his old Chevy pick up and drove away. The money Nico had paid him to arrange all of this was probably going to make his wife a very happy woman. Once he was sure that Nolan had left and there would be no funny business, Nico returned to his car.

 

The fear of his father haunted him even when he knew he was safe. 

 

The townhouse Nolan had arranged for him was in the middle of the apartments rented by college students. Nico wanted a nice place to live but he didn’t want to be distinguishable from the crowd. That meant dressing to blend in. Once he moved in, he’d hang his leather jacket up in the closet and stick to bootcut denim and white t-shirts. Blending in was never something that Nico was too good at.

 

He had Giuseppe’s striking face, the scar on his neck and of course, the shiny golden crucifix around his neck. He was markedly Italian and markedly Catholic in a city where that got you noticed. And he looked like a model too. That might have helped him remain anonymous in New York City, but in Boston, Nico looked almost too beautiful to be there — an obvious European transplant. 

 

The car drove smoothly and he parked it behind the building. Nolan had paid careful attention to Nico’s criteria. Nico opened the townhouse door. It smelled like bleach. Nolan (or his wife) had clearly done a bang up job getting this together. The furniture possessed that Martha Stewart charm with blues and whites pulling together the decor of each room. Nico carried his bags into the house and locked the door behind him. He walked over to the alarm and read the instructions that Nolan had scribbled onto the back of the index card.

 

Nico set the alarm on. Once he was in the house, he planned to keep it on at all times for security. He could feel his level of paranoia turning him into his father. Nico unpacked his bags, neatly hanging his white t-shirts in the closet and folding his jeans. He placed his three pairs of shoes neatly beneath the white t-shirts and then sat on the bed once he was done.

He didn’t have much time before he was supposed to meet the boys — his loyal band of followers who had agreed Giuseppe should be unseated from his dictatorial throne over the local Italians. Nico had come all the way from Italy for his revenge on that motherfucker. 

 

He unpacked his guns, stashing them around his house in the locations that Nolan had arranged. His townhouse had become a fortress in under an hour. Nico slipped a knife into the holster strapped around his calf and slipped a gun into his back waistband. In a sense, it felt good to be back in Boston.

 

In some ways, this city was just as much of his home as Italy was. Having to exist underground like this felt like an alternate reality. With her he had vowed to put all of this behind him. But Giuseppe had been persistent. If he couldn’t control Nico, he needed to destroy him. And as for Luca… Luca had been born with the same cruel streak as his father, but he would no longer be a problem.

 

That made Nico’s job much easier. He would have never been able to complete this mission if his twin brother were still alive.

 

Nico thought about their childhood and he wondered if somehow, he’d always known it would come to this. Luca and Nico had always been so incompatible. And the way their lives had turned out, it was as if there had been no other choice but for only one of them to survive. Based on how he’d grown up, Nico had always figured he would be the one to die first. Luca was cruel. He had always been cruel.

 

Nico wandered out of the house and set his alarm. The streets were filled with college students. Their oversized spectacles, flannel shirts and tight skinny jeans that both men and women alike wore created this androgynous crowd of intellectuals. Nico picked up on what he would need to fit in quickly. A leather messenger bag. Spectacles. No beard. A haircut. Blending into Cambridge wouldn’t prove too difficult. Everyone here was so homogenous, that Nico found it too easy to pick out the trends. Dressing like these younger folks would be easy.

 

In a way, Nico felt like he’d been robbed of the youth they all had. College had been out of the question for him. The Riccardis didn’t do college according to his father. All they needed to be educated on was how to serve the family and maintain the family wealth. 

 

He walked to the bar. He fully intended for his new car to remain anonymous, even to the men that he trusted. If anyone went to report that Nico Riccardi was back in town, he wanted to leave them with nothing else but that simple useless fact. Before he went to the bar, Nico walked into Urban Outfitters and bought himself a large flannel shirt and a pair of fake spectacles. He ripped the tags off both and put them on the moment he left the store.

 

Nico had become Nicholas Ricardo to anyone else he met. His accent might be the only thing that gave him away. He hadn’t been in America long enough to tone it down the way he used to. Italian had given his voice a heavy, deep sound. It worked on the ladies but it wouldn’t do to maintain his anonymity. 

 

The bar was a dive. The blue-collar clientele occupied all the seats, eyes glued to the Patriots game broadcasted on the television. Nico had never understood the fascination with American football. Nothing could get his heart rate up so easily after the life he’d lived — well, the life he’d been forced into. Nico nodded towards the bartender who pointed towards the back room.

 

Even in a dive like this, greasing palms could get you a VIP room. In this seedy side of Boston, Nico had dredged up men who had a bone to pick with his father. That hadn’t proved too difficult. Nico was glad to see that the men who he’d chosen had done his bidding. He commanded the same fear as Giuseppe. Good. Nico didn’t have the cruelty that his father had, but he knew how to command a room. He knew how to use fear and uncertainty to his advantage in order to get what he wanted. Valuable lessons from Papa Riccardi.

 

Nico entered the room and the men fell silent.

 

“Good evening gentlemen,” Nico said quietly. 

 

The men grunted in response. 

 

“What are you waiting for? Someone bring me a beer.”

 

Power. Nico resented it, but he knew how to wield it too.

Nico sat down at the head of the table while the men around it looked him up and down. Nico knew what this was. They were assessing his strength and calculating whether Nico was deserving of their respect. Nico hoped that no man would try to test him. While he didn’t enjoy cruelty, he was capable of doling out punishment if someone crossed him. This mission was serious enough to draw out a bad temper. 

 

A local American-born Italian man named Tommy brought Nico the beer. He sipped the frothy dark ale with a hint of resentment that it wasn’t a full bodied dry wine. 

 

“Thank you all for meeting with me today… I’d like to discuss a few business matters. Phones off and on the table,” Nico started.

 

Each fella turned their phone off and placed it face down on the table. Tommy stood behind Nico, making sure that there were no snakes amongst them. Nico had inherited his father’s paranoia, his father’s ability to inspire loyalty and his father’s charisma. What he hadn’t inherited was his father’s bloodlust. 

 

If they were going to make money in Boston, he didn’t want to do it the way his father had. They weren’t here to incite violence, but to stop it. Nico needed to protect his community in a way his father hadn’t. His father gave Italians a bad name. 

 

Nico began to speak. His voice emanated from his chest and Nico could feel every man in the room hanging onto his every word. First he needed money. Then he needed men. Then he would get his revenge on Giuseppe. Nico had been patient and this would require even more patience. 

 

As he spoke, he looked at all the men in the room and analyzed each one. Tommy was a good right-hand man. Leo and Paul were the brawn. Their arms were sinewy, naturally strong and they knew their way around guns. Two eighteen year olds who worked down at the docks would make good ears — listening around the city for valuable tidbits about Giuseppe’s movements. There was only one person missing from the crowd.

 

After he had finished his first speech and the men started talking amongst themselves, Nico grabbed on Tommy’s shirt.

 

“Tommy,” He whispered, “Where is…”

Tommy interrupted before he could finish.

“The boy? He finished school fifteen minutes ago. He should be here by now.”

 

Nico nodded. He hated the idea of getting someone so young involved in this. But when he was his cousin’s age, he’d been involved in far worse. His father had given him a gun from the time he was old enough to know how to use it. Nico waited patiently for a few more moments, letting his men plan and discuss their next moves amongst themselves.

 

Trust. Trust meant they would do anything for him and he wouldn’t have to micro-manage their every move.

 

But the boy…

 

That was the final piece of the puzzle that Nico would need to ensure his plan successful. Just when he was about to send Tommy on a manhunt, the boy walked through the door. He dropped his backpack on the ground when he saw his cousin. Nico stood up and wrapped the boy in his arms.

 

“Buona sera cugino,” Nico whispered.

 

His cousin kissed his cheek and then pulled away, replying with a strong, “Buona sera.” 

 

Nico eyed the boy up and down. The boy reminded him of himself at that age. He was skinny as a rail. And even if it was clear he was trying to hide it, Nico could smell the faintest whiff of tobacco on the boy’s clothing. Now that was more like Luca than Nico. The boy had blue eyes that possessed less intensity than Nico’s, but were a bright blue all the same. Instead of black, his hair was a dark brown color and cropped right above his shoulders. 

 

Nico would have switched to Italian if he knew that not all the men in the room spoke it very well.

 

“How is my father, Domenico?”

 

Domenico paused, trying to find the necessary words in English to answer his cousin.

 

“Eh… He is… very… troubled.”

 

Nico smiled. That was the type of news he wanted to hear about his father, Giuseppe Riccardi. Giuseppe deserved all the trouble in the world and Nico was hell bent on bringing it to his doorstep.

 

“Does he know I’m back?”

Domenico shook his head, his long eyelashes fluttered as he spoke, “He suspects. But he does not know.”

 

Nico figured the boy’s English would get better with more time in school. He still stumbled over his words and marked himself as decidedly foreign. Nico remembered how lonely of an experience that had been. It had helped get the attention of girls in high school, but besides their fleeting interest, high school had been a lonely place. No child deserved to be bounced around like that. Childhood was supposed to be about stability. 

 

Nico had known for a long time that bringing a child into the world would be foolish. Especially a child who was brought up in a life like this. There would be no hope of happiness. Nico could never be a father. But now, he had a chance to be a father figure to his significantly younger cousin.

 

“I don’t want to put you in danger Domenico.”

 

Nico reached into his pocket and he pulled out a gold watch. He wore its twin watch on his own wrist. Domenico stretched out his palm and Nico dropped the watch down. Domenico’s eyes roved over the watch and eventually he found the inscription and whispered it out loud.

 

“Yes,” Nico said, “Keep this safe. You might need this at some point.”

 

Domenico nodded.

 

“My father is a dangerous man Domenico, as you already know.”

 

Domenico nodded again.

 

Of course he knew. Domenico’s real mother had died in childbirth. One of Nico’s other aunts had adopted him as her son. That was the only mother Domenico had ever known. 

 

So Domenico hadn’t the faintest choice about the life he’d been born into. His father had been one of Giuseppe’s accountants. After refusing to commit an egregious crime, he’d been murdered. All of this had happened while the boy was young. Giuseppe figured Domenico was too young to understand what had happened. 

 

With Domenico’s father out of the picture, and Domenico’s (adopted) mother too terrified to react, Giuseppe could do anything he wanted. He plucked the boy from his mother’s grasp, only allowing her to see the child when it suited him. Giuseppe had taken Domenico in, thinking that the boy would simply adjust to life without his father. Giuseppe had planted the seeds of betrayal in nearly every person he surrounded himself with. Nico planned to take advantage of that.

 

“Be careful.”

 

Nico pulled out a handgun from his back pocket.

 

“You know how to use this?”

 

Domenico nodded.

 

“Now. I can’t give a child my gun Domenico. But if you can find one… Take it. You might need it.”

 

Domenico nodded again. Nico could feel the boy’s fear. He was too young to be involved in this — far too young. And he seemed like a good kid too. Nico hadn’t been so good when he was his age. He’d been a rebel. He’d fought anyone who’d crossed him and he caused trouble in school with his twin brother, Luca. Nico had done it to act out, as a cry for help. Luca had done it for the pleasure. Twins, but as different as night and day. 

 

“Let’s review. In English. What is it I need from you?”

 

Domenico took his time, but this time, his English was more confident. He’d need the practice. Nico knew how hard it was to fit in with the students at school when you were so different. 

 

“Listen to Giuseppe. Report to you. Stay out of trouble. Figure out his movements.”

 

“That’s right. Now I’ll need you to go home now so he doesn’t suspect anything.”

 

“Yes, cugino.”

 

Nico kissed the boy on the cheek and wrapped him in a tight hug afterwards.

 

“I know you want a better life Domenico.”

 

“Yes.”

“I want us both to live in a city where we are not afraid. Capisce?”

 

Domenico nodded, his mop of brown hair briefly falling into his eyes. Of course he understood. He was more scared than anyone in this room had ever been. And Tommy had a few toes cut off by Giuseppe’s men at one point. But Domenico was just a boy and he deserved to be kept safe.

 

The boy picked up his backpack and left the room. The men kept talking until Nico hushed them. He dismissed them for the day and then waited another thirty minutes for every single one of them to leave before he himself walked home. Trust was a tricky thing. And even if Nico trusted each one of the men in that room, he still needed his anonymity. Torture could make even the most loyal man turn into a squealing pig. Nico had seen that with his own two eyes.

 

He began to make his way home. As he walked home, Nico observed the students. He observed their mannerisms — all the things he would have to adopt so he wouldn’t stand out. Once he arrived home he locked his doors and alarmed his house. It was quiet here. And lonely. Nico thought about the woman that Giuseppe had separated him from. And how her laugh would have filled the house. How she would have played Mozart on the piano and sang old Italian hymns. 

 

Nico bent his head as he sat in his lonely quiet living room. His fingers rubbed the contours of the golden crucifix that hung around his neck, and he prayed.

If you enjoyed the prologue, you'll be in love with the rest of this novel. Check it out for $4.99.

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Romance Novel Excerpts: The Situationship

the situationship romance novel excerpts bwwm The Situationship romance novel excerpt will give you a taste of a HOT, steamy and unconventional romance between an African American woman and a white man. If you love romantic stories, you'll enjoy this best-selling BWWM romance novel.

Check out the description here:

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...

This BWWM novel is an extra-steamy read so hot it might melt your Kindle.

Does this sound good to you? Great. You can click the link here to get the book ASAP: http://amzn.to/2v3Jiar

Keep reading to get the excerpt:

Romance Novel Excerpts: The Situationship

 

Chapter 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.

 

Mark had no reason to stop. He squeezed my thighs and began to lap his tongue at my pussy more furiously. I moaned and moaned but Mark just kept going. His tongue spread my pussy lips apart and pleasure began to surge throughout my body.

 

“I’m cumming… I’m cumming…” I whimpered.

 

As I writhed beneath him in the throes of climax, Mark only sucked at my pussy lips more furiously. Stars began dancing before my eyes as I gasped for breath and trembled beneath Mark’s grasp. He began to focus his attention on his clit as I writhed beneath him and catching my breath grew harder and harder.

 

Explosions of euphoria started in my core and emanated out to every inch of my flesh. I managed to reach my hand over to grab Mark’s hair and I tried to pull his face away from my wetness but he wouldn’t let up until I reached another climax. After I’d cum again, Mark pulled away from me. Before I could catch my breath, he pressed his lips to mind and thrust his tongue into my mouth.

 

I sucked my sweet juices off his lips and when he pulled away I looked at him with awe.

 

“That was amazing.”

It always was amazing. Mark was the most attentive partner that I’d ever had and I’d hit the jackpot with him. He knew how to eat a woman out and he had alarming stamina.

 

“We aren’t done for the night babe,” He informed me.

 

I nodded, “I know.”

 

“Good. I can’t wait to rock your world all night long.”

I knew he meant it. With Mark, I could always have the guarantee of a good time. I pulled his face closer to mine and kissed him again.

 

“Maybe this time I’ll have some wine.”

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Romance Novel Excerpts: The Engineer's Baby

Romance Novel Excerpts The Engineer's BabyRomance novel excerpts featuring attractive full-figured black women and gorgeous white men are our raison d'être at Jamila Jasper Romance. The Engineer's Baby is one of our best contemporary romance novels and a perfect read for anyone who enjoys interracial romance books. 

This story incorporates some massive reader input! A few weeks ago, we conducted a survey amongst BWWM Romance readers to figure out what they wanted to see in these stories and here are some of the points that were included in The Engineer's Baby. 

1. Heroine is a full-figured, dark skinned black woman with a professional career. 

2. The Heroine's relationship with her family is important to the story! We wanted to acknowledge the role family plays in the black community. 

3. The H/H are married to each other! More people wanted to see how BWWM married couples solve problems together. 

Here's the full description below: 

Dale is a top-tier engineer and his wife Monique is a successful African American financial manager. Monique is a gorgeous, full-figured, dark skinned woman who finally completed her life's dream to become the true definition of success. 

Together, they are unstoppable except for one little problem. No matter how hard they tried in the past, Monique can't have a baby. 

Dale and Monique decided to start a family the non-traditional route through <i>in vitro</i> fertilization. As they proceed with their choice, both of their families push back against their decision. Dale and Monique are forced to face their families or risk ruining their relationship.

Matters get more complicated when Dale's long-lost ex girlfriend comes into the picture with a secret she's kept for years that could change their lives forever...

A devastating event pushes them all over the edge and puts the Dandridge family to the ultimate test.

**NSFW Steamy BWWM Scene In This Excerpt!** 

Romance Novel Excerpts: The Engineer's Baby

Chapter 1

 

Monique lay next to her husband Dale as he half-heartedly flipped through The New Yorker. Their fifth wedding anniversary was approaching in a day or two and as usual, they were going to throw the “Dandridge Anniversary Dinner”, a formal dress affair where their closest friends and family gathered to celebrate their love.

 

“It feels silly to do a fifth anniversary dinner don’t you think?” Dale asked.

 

Monique scoffed, “You say that every year Dale.”

 

“Well we haven’t really been together five years, have we?”

 

“Twelve this December technically. But it didn’t really count until we were married.”

 

“Seven years didn’t count?”

 

“You know what I mean,” Monique said.

 

Dale smiled, “Okay fine… I guess I’ll have to get used to this five year event. It’s almost a milestone I guess…”

 

Monique leaned over and kissed her husband, “Almost.”

 

Monique looked into Dale’s gorgeous, aquamarine eyes. From the moment she’d met him, she’d fallen completely in love with him. Dale was handsome, well over six feet tall with a thick, body builder’s body. He had a shock of brown hair with blond streaks and the most beautiful aquamarine eyes that allowed Monique to read him like a book.

 

“I’m glad we got married Monique,” Dale said.

 

Monique hugged her husband tightly, “Me too…”
 

There had been a time when Monique had assumed she would never marry Dale and she would have to be his girlfriend for years. He’d taken seven long years to be sure that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Monique eyed the giant ring on her chubby finger. It looked beautiful… Dale had selected a gold band and a gorgeous square cut 2 carat diamond. Monique loved looking at her engagement ring even if now it was just another fixture in her life. It reminded her of the freshness of their romance and the beauty of everlasting love…

 

There was a point in Monique’s life when she felt like no one would love her. She had many failed relationships in her late teens. Black guys she’d dated would always say she was too dark or they’d string her along until they found someone better and lighter. At first, Monique had believed the lies they’d told her, the lies that broke down her self-esteem one hateful comment at a time. When Monique met Dale, things started to change for her. She saw the beauty that emanated from her skin. She saw the perfection that existed in just being fat, black, dark skinned and full of love.

 

Monique was shorter than Dale, standing at 5’8”. She was a proud size 18 with copper colored skin that got over three shades darker in the summertime. Monique’s smile lit up her whole face, highlighting her chubby cheeks that softened up her facial features. She had big, downturned eyes that were a velvety black color and absorbed light. Monique’s figure was shapely, and perfect for the man who could handle and appreciate a full-figured woman. Monique had smallish breasts and a nice, round butt that she loved to show off to her husband alone.

 

“It will just be nice to do something besides work,” Dale said.

 

Monique agreed. Both of them worked too hard and they knew it. Monique wondered if a part of it was the pressure they both felt to succeed from their parents or if they overworked to avoid dealing with some of the more difficult problems in their lives. Monique worked as a financial manager for a corporate bank in the city and Dale was an engineer at a clean energy tech company. Together, they made over $300,000 a year and they hadn’t had any money troubles since they’d been married.

 

“Agreed, I can’t wait for dinner…” Monique whispered. She kissed her husband on the cheek suggestively.

 

“Oh?” He asked.

 

Monique grinned. They had been together so long that they each knew the other’s subtle signals for indicating desire.

 

“Pretty please?” Monique whispered breathily.

 

“Your wish is my command…”

 

Dale rolled Monique onto her back as she giggled. It took only a few seconds for her to ease her way out of her slip and allow her husband to position himself on top of her.

 

“I guess my hormones are raging,” Monique said.

 

“Oh baby…” Dale whispered, kissing Monique on her neck.

 

No matter how many times she’d made love to Dale, it never got old. Their passion for each other hadn’t died in the seven years they’d been together before marriage and it hadn’t died after marriage either. For a long time, Monique had believed the myth that sex vanished after marriage. Now, at thirty five, she realized that might have just been something said to scare her by a generation of women who were afraid to ask their husbands for what they wanted. But Monique wasn’t afraid to ask…

 

She reached her hand down and slid Dale’s boxers off. She could feel his large cock resting against her thigh and smell the sweet scent of his Burberry cologne. Monique gripped Dale’s ass cheeks, taut and muscular from years of squats and lunges. He kissed her neck again and said, “Are you ready for this?”

 

“Always.”

 

Dale began to thrust into his wife slowly. Monique was dripping wet with anticipation and eager to receive her fill of her husband. As Dale’s large dick began to press inside of her, Monique let out a loud groan and threw back her head. Her beautiful brown skin was becoming slightly flushed as Dale eased his dick halfway in. Monique’s hands gripped Dale’s back, massaging his thick muscles as she pulled him in. His body had only gotten more attractive the longer they’d been together. His sinewy flesh rippled as he dove his dick all the way in.

 

Yes…

 

This was perfection. Dale held still for a moment and then he began to plunge in and out of Monique. She closed her eyes and let her body take over. With each of Dale’s thrusts, she let out an unwilling, high-pitched gasp of pleasure. She could feel that orgasm wasn’t far off. Dale’s dick was thick, long and filled her up completely. Every cell in her body responded to his thrust and gooseflesh prickled over her skin almost instantly. Monique heaved and with each breath, she drew in more of Dale’s animalic scent.

 

“You want it harder?” Dale growled.

 

“Yes… Harder… Please…” Monique gasped.

 

Dale’s face took on an impish grin and Monique knew she was about to receive the full brunt of her husband’s domination. He took Monique’s arms and pinned them above her head. Monique tried to struggle and resist, but at usual, Dale’s grip was far greater than her ability to wriggle out of his erotic restraints. He kissed her deeply and then began to pound into her harder than ever before. The combination of his restraints accompanied by his hard body pounding into hers drove Monique nearly over the edge.

 

“Don’t stop… Don’t stop…” She implored.

 

Of course, she knew that Dale had no intention of stopping until he’d taken his fill of his wife and enjoyed every inch of her flesh to the maximum. Dale released his grip on Monique’s arms, allowing her to pull him in deeper and deeper. Her wetness gripped him tightly, forcing Dale to exert extra force with each thrust. He grunted in pleasure as he squeezed his cock into her tightness repeatedly.

 

“Whose pussy is this?” Dale growled.

 

Monique was lost in pleasure and ignored his question.

 

Dale began to make love to her deep and slow. He asked her again, “Whose pussy is this?”

 

Monique moaned, trying her hardest to emit an answer, “Yours…”

 

“Yours who?”

 

“It’s yours daddy… Oh daddy fuck me!” Monique cried out breathily.

 

Dale was starting to drip with sweat as he pumped hard into Monique. With each thrust, her voluptuous breasts and the rest of her fleshy body jiggled. Just the sight of his arousing wife bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts was enough to drive Dale wild. Monique shuddered as a climax washed over her body. The inexplicable pleasure set her limbs on fire, sending a tingling sensation from her wetness to every inch of her body. She was engulfed by her desire for her husband, entranced by yet another beautiful union between them.

 

Dale started to slow down his rhythm as he approached orgasm. He kept his blue eyes locked with Monique’s, taking in the shifting expression on her face with each thrust. As each emotion shot past her face, Dale consumed all of it. As he looked at her and plunged into her slowly, their bond became stronger and stronger. Throughout everything they’d been through, making love was the one thing that healed them, restored their passion and reminded them of why they were together.

 

Dale couldn’t hold back any longer. He could feel the muscles in his body tensing as he came closer and closer. Monique could always do this to him, she could always bring him to the edge with ease no matter how many times they’d made love in the past. A surge of emotions combined with a spike in pleasure pushed Dale over the edge. He grunted as he released a hot sticky load inside of Monique. They were both breathing heavily, panting desperately for the next breath. As hot skin touched hot skin, their minds were both crowded with one unifying thought, “I’m happy I get to spend the rest of my life with this person.”

 

Dale pulled out of his wife and lay on his back.

 

“Cigarette?” He asked.

 

Monique shook her head, “No thanks... I thought you quit?”

 

“I did quit, until this big deal came through. Randy wants me to send him my designs by Wednesday and I don’t know if I’ll be able to impress him.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Monique said, kissing her husband on the cheek. Dale leaned over to his bedside table, frantically searching for his cigarettes and a lighter. Holding the cigarette stick in his mouth, he took a long drag and then exhaled. The smell of tobacco still initiated her cravings, but she’d given up smoking a long time ago; now she was well practiced at resisting her desires.

 

“So… Are we going to talk about it again?” Dale asked.

 

Monique pulled their blanket up over her naked body and shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

 

“What’s there to discuss?”

 

“Come on…” Dale said, blowing O-rings as he waited for his wife to engage with him on the subject he knew she’d been avoiding.

 

“Fine… I know I agreed to it but I’m having second thoughts Dale. I mean… Maybe I’m just not meant to have kids.”

 

“That wasn’t part of our plan though,” Dale countered.

 

Monique sighed, “I know. I guess I can’t help but wonder if what we’re doing is wrong. You know… If it goes against nature.”

 

“Monique…”

 

“No, I don’t want you to comfort me Dale. Maybe this is my cross to bear and IVF is just cheating.”

 

“It’s not cheating.”

 

“Well then we’ll set the appointment for the implantation.”

 

“We’ve already come this far Monique,” Dale started, “But if you’ve changed your mind and you think we should back out, I’ll support you.”

 

“Or you’ll hate me forever for not being able to have kids.”

 

“I wouldn’t,” Dale said, trying to soothe his wife’s insecurities.

 

Monique sighed, “Fine. It will be fine then. I’m probably just hormonal and having cold feet.”

 

“Are you sure?” Dale asked. He was puffing on that cigarette like his life depending it, already keeping a second one in mind.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. We’re going to do this and we’re going to have a baby.”

 

“Or babies…”

 

Monique nodded, “Right. Or babies.”

She kissed her husband on the cheek, hoping he didn’t notice the terrified look in her eyes. Monique had agreed to IVF but the truth was, she was scared. No matter how many times her doctor explained it, she couldn’t get over the fact that this was a bizarre procedure from start to finish. How could she be sure it would work? What if she got someone else’s baby?

But with Dale’s work pressure mounting and the stress of their anniversary party, Monique had no time to reveal a hint of her panic. That would only make things worse and the last thing Monique wanted was for everything to get worse…

This story will be available on Kindle soon!