Tag Your Writ Volume 1

Citation preview

TAG! YOU’RE WRIT Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

TAG! You’re Writ “It’s all Fun and Games until Someone Falls in Love” by Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara “Hotter than the Hates of Elle” by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

The characters Dr. Ezekial McAllister and Ben Wakefield are copyrighted and used with permission of Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara. Copyright © 2009 by Laura Guevara, Jeanie Johnson, Jayha Leigh, Dréa Riley All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be produced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, or electronic transmission, without prior written permission from the authors. Basically, that means no jacking our work, peeps. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors’ imaginations and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Les Byerley Editor: Stephanie Parent ISBN:

Dedications First of all Laura and Drea want to thank their big sisters The Jeanie and Jayha. Yes, Jayha, you told us so. Thank you for pressuring us, we know that it had to be the most confounding thing to wait on us. Thank you for your love and support. And yes, we know, RESTRICTION! THE JEANIE—We got caught. AGAIN. And we are on restriction. AGAIN. Can we come to your corner and play? To Stephanie Parent: editor extraordinaire. Of course at the time of this dedication we’ve just met, but if Jayha says you are the bomb, then it’s Gospel. Thank you for polishing us and making us great. Thanks to the ladies of the MFP Posse for your undying support. Thanks to the men of the MFPP for hanging in there and being who you are. Thanks to our families for understanding the tied phone lines and reclusiveness. Also, thanks to our dogs DEE OH GEE AND NAPO. Together you two are one big CLAYMORE, fierce and strong, even if you only weigh 10 whole lbs together, soaking wet. Thanks to CWB for being the best husband and big brother there is. Thanks also to our parents. Thank you for giving so freely of yourselves that we could become the women we are and tell the stories we tell. To Laura’s Papi. We love you! You remind us of what it is to be loved by a man and cherished as a daughter. To Drea’s Mami. We love you too! YOU remind us that mothers are women first. You are spicy and funky and DIVA! We pray that GOD keeps you in good health for many more years. You are our rocks and our inspiration. To us! GO DREA GO LAURA GO! GO! GO! GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Yes, Jayha, we know: “Go to the corner without the scooters.” SIGH!!!) —Love and Chaos, Dréa and Laura!!! *** As always to our Mr. Mes, and this time to us. And also to everyone of you who purchase the book. We thank you. —J and J

Note about eBooks eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

CAVEAT This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

tag: (tāg) noun, verb —noun An informal game that involves one or more players pursuing or chasing other players in an effort to “tag” them with their hands or another object, thus making the player “tagged” the new pursuer. Also referred to as Tag, You’re It. —verb (used with object) To touch, as in the game of ‘Tag, You’re It.’ Tag! You’re Writ: noun, verb —noun An informal writing challenge that involves at least two authors. The first author writes a short story and “tags” the second author. The next author then writes a story “tagging” off of a character, theme or something else and incorporates it in a story that they pen. This writing challenge involves two author teams. Authors Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara have the pen first and will “tag” author team Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh. And thus, the game begins.

It’s All Fun and Games Until Someone Falls in Love by Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara

Part 1: Mother May I? I was sitting at my desk, listening to the hum of the busy leasing office from my open doorway. Leaning back and stretching my neck, I took a moment to study one of the three pictures on my desk. The one that captured me along with my mother, Mami, and my sister Rachel. Rachel Gonsalves is my ace. My road dawg. My sister. We started this job together in college. Who knew that ten years later, Rachel would be the lead agent at a posh apartment community, and I’d be in the back in a cozy office “running thangs”? HA!! We did. After six weeks, we had decided that the two of us were going to be in charge. And we systematically worked our way up. We started off in house cleaning…which was so not cute. Neither one of us had ever cleaned anything in our lives. Not a bedroom nor a dish. I am a firm believer in paper plates and dishwashers. And Rachel, well, that chic didn’t know she had a kitchen in her house until she accidently set the microwave on fire last year. Anyway, we learned real fast how to clean an apartment in order for someone to move in. A lot of our time was spent hanging out waiting for the maintenance crew to do their thing first. Needless to say, we learned a lot. The older guys took us under their wing and taught us how to fix just about anything. Air conditioners…check. Garbage

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disposal…check. Toilets…if you pay me triple in cash up front and can personally clean said toilet with a whole lot of bleach before I work on it, check. We even learned how to work on vehicles. The only reason I pay the guys down at the shop to change my oil is because I don’t like shit under my nails. Being that neither of us have fathers or brothers, the whole crew adopted us. Hell, I’m auntie to five or six little budding terrors right now. Most of the original crew is still here, albeit aging, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. We got a couple of new knuckleheads on staff, but they’re a’ight. Working closely with the support crew brought us into contact with residents and residents’ friends. We made it a point to learn something about everyone. We remembered about their birthdays and the pool parties they threw, as well as issues they’d had with their apartments. Before long we were meeting their friends and hanging out. It only took that first year before the manager took us aside and asked us if we wanted to move in. Jerry is your typical southern man. Hardworking, smart and a gentleman farmer. He has some serious cowboy up in him too. He’ll work hard, but if he can get around it, he will. He had the good sense to know Rachel and I had the personality and people skills to do a bang-up job as leasing agents. He was also banking on us doing things

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our way and wanting to learn. And the more we learned, the less he actually had to do. In six months’ time, I’d taken over all the move-out dispositions and worked directly with the investment owners and collections department as well as the maintenance crew, and Rachel was leading the leasing and marketing team. We switched majors to real estate management and never looked back. I think Rachel has her eye on the new maintenance man we hired. He’s not only really handy with any maintenance issues, but the man knows his way around a garden. So he’s going to oversee the landscaping crew. I already have his background check on my desk from his hire package. But best believe I have been googling like crazy. I’m not saying the man ain’t fine, but you never know. He’s on sabbatical from the university and is a writer. I wonder what Rachel would say if she found out he was a published author whose characters knew more about kink than she did. My phone rang. Looking over at the multiline system, I could tell the call was coming from Rachel’s office. “This is Jonica,” I answered the phone. It’s the way I always do. Day in, day out…at home or at work. I don’t have time to remember what time it is. Good morning…not hardly. Good afternoon…since when? Good evening… hey, can you tell me when we go from afternoon to evening, ‘cause I need to be sure I roll out

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right before that time? Good night…yeah, I’d like to answer the phone with that. Good night click. “Hell, I know it’s you. I called your extension. What, you got someone back there to answer the phone for you now, Miss Manager?” I rolled my eyes before speaking quickly. “Now why would I hire someone else to answer the phone for me when you do it so beautifully, Miss Assistant Manager?” “Pinche...you know what...never mind, your mom is on the phone.” My mom is always on the phone. The girls in the front office spend hours passing the phone around. Each one of them getting a little bit of her sunshine in their gloomy little worlds. She calls to talk about nothing specific and everything in general. Rachel is my girl from way back. We grew up together ripping , running and getting into things. Anyway, after a moment more of chitchat with Rachel, whose desk is literally on the other side of the wall from me, I pushed the button to bring my mom on the line “Hola, Mami, que pasa?” I always greet my mother this way. Even though the woman doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish. She made sure I learned, though. Something about honoring my late father. I asked her once how he died and she said,

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“Who, Pablo? That fool ain’t dead, I ran him lost.” A few weeks later, when I met Pablo for the first time, I understood why she did. He and Mami are too much alike. First of all, they’re both stubborn, and secondly, they both like being the center of attention. Don’t get me wrong, it helped when I was learning about fashion and all of that, but it was odd having two divas trying to raise me. Pablo is what they call “metro”—hell, he may have invented it—but don’t get it twisted, there isn’t an ounce of gay in him. Men have gone missing for making that mistake. Think about the pimp from those movies with Ice Cube. You know that scene with the vice grips…yeah, I think Pablo sold that idea and got paid. “Hi, babygirl, how are you?” Mami didn’t give me time to answer—she never did. “Can you come get me?” “I’m fine, Mami. Come get you from where, Mami?” “Across the street from your job,” my mom whispered. I was just leaning back in my chair, about to place my feet on the desk so I could admire my new pedicure. My mind began to race. WTF? Across the street from my job. What the hell is…? Understanding and confusion met like a train wreck in my brain.

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“Mom.” I shorten her moniker whenever I get pissed. “You do know the hospital is across the street from my job, right” “Well duh, I know that. That’s why you need to come get me. I’m at the hospital.” Oh no she didn’t. Did my mom just “duh” me? Really, is she getting attitude with me when I am at work? I need this job. If I lose my cool with her…. Wait. Focus, Jonica. “Mother—” I could hear her deep sigh and knew that chic was rolling her eyes at me. “Mami” is for every day. “Mamma” is when I am sick. “Mom” lets her know I’m feeling all grown up and ballsy, but when I say “Mother” that means I mean business, which also means she’s about to school me on how I’m not grown enough at twenty-eight to be “Mothering” her. “Why are you across the street at the hospital?” “Why are you asking questions instead of doing what I asked…no, what I told you to do? Ain’t I your mamma? Cuz I mean last time I checked, I had you! Not the other way around.” Okay, we’re fixing to go there. We are so about to go there. She’s the one playing cute on the phone. In the hospital…wait…focus, Jonica. By this time, I’d jumped out of my seat and knocked a penholder off my desk. Either Rachel must

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have been eavesdropping again or I was talking loudly, as I tend to do when Mom upsets me. Searching frantically for a pen, and my purse, my keys…anything I might need, I argued with Mom about how I needed to know exactly where in the hospital she was if she wanted me to come get her. Then I held up my hand in the just wait motion. I wasn’t getting any information from Mom, and Rachel was loud-talking in my left ear. Meanwhile, Mom was laying on the guilt trip in my right. “What’s going on? Did you just say your mom’s in the hospital? What happened? Is she okay?” “I don’t know why you are acting all huffy. Why can’t you just come get me? How long is it gonna take you to get over here? This is why I didn’t call you when they admitted me Monday.” Hold the fuck on. Did my mom just say to me that she has been in the hospital since MONDAY?! I thrust my hand against Rachel’s mouth and shoved all the stuff off my desk. With my eyes glued to the oversized calendar that was now visible, I scanned the days. Today is Thursday…no wait, today is Friday, because I’m off tomorrow. “Oh my GOD!!! Mother, you’ve called me every day this week. AND YOU HAVE BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL EVERY DAY THIS WEEK!!! What the hell kinda bullshit is that?”

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Rachel’s eyes grew round, and she made that “ooooooooo” that little kids make when you say something that’s about to get your ass beat. Like the first time your cousins trick you into saying something stupid like, “yo mamma.” “Jonica Farran Dominquez! You must have lost your whole damn mind talking to me. Who do you think you are speaking to? I am YO MAMMA. I am not that pansy ass punk your daddy ran off from your house last year, and I am not one of your home girls. You bettah check ya’ self before I check up outta this muthafucka and check you outta this world.” How dare she be laid up in the hospital with God knows what wrong and not tell me? Why does she insist on calling that boy toy of hers my daddy...hell, he ain’t that much older than I am. Well, I mean he is that much older than me, but he doesn’t act like it, and he is so not my daddy. Wait till I tell Pavlo she is tryna get me to call another man daddy. What if she had….what if she had? I am not even going there, not today. She is fine because she’s still cussin’. What is she talking about they are tryna kill her? Mom continued to hem and haw about how children had no respect these days. She mumbled more to herself than anything. I knew it wouldn’t be

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the last I heard on the subject, but I was still heated my damn self. “Mamma.” I tried to backpedal a bit. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You are in the hospital, so obviously you don’t need to be getting heated right now…. No, Mamma, I am not angry, just a little upset that you didn’t tell me you were in the hospital. What if something had happened? I mean something did happen, and no one knew. You coulda…you know, met ‘Lizabeth, and no one would know until after the science people had cut you up and sent us back your ashes and stuff.” Mom chuckled then. I knew there was no way to keep her from turning the situation back onto my cussin’, but that would be later on. After I figured out why the hell she was in the hospital in the first damn place. “Mamma, you want to tell me why you are in the hospital?” “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Joni…just come get me.” “Mamma…Mami…MOM…MOTHER….” She hung up on me. NO, she didn’t just hang up on me. How the hell am I supposed to go get her when I don’t know where exactly the fuck she is? I mean is she in ICU…? Wait, she wouldn’t be able to call from there. Damn It! I need Rachel.

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“Rachel!!!!” I screamed. “Bitch, I’m not your mamma, but you can’t be hollerin’ my damn name like that. I know that damn much!” Rachel had her finger in her ear. I hadn’t meant to scream in it. I’d honestly forgotten she was standing there. “My bad, girl—Mom hung up on me. I gotta get to the hospital,” I said as I skirted around both my desk and Rachel. I didn’t stop to so much as blink, let alone give a “hey, I’ll be right back” to any of the agents working up front. The door dinged as I shoved it open and headed down the block for the stoplight. I pushed the button a million times in two seconds waiting for the light to change. What the fuck. Change already!!!! C’mon!! GREEN! DAMN THING! “ARRRGG,” I growled in frustration. I looked at the traffic zipping by. If I time this just right, I can run…. Beep beep!!! “Listen, I know you’re upset, but throwing yourself into lunch-hour traffic ain’t gonna do nuthin’ but get your black ass on the ten o’clock news. They won’t even do a whole segment. They’ll just mention you in passing.”

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I looked over at the car at the curb. Rachel’s metallic blue Mini Cooper was humming like a windup toy. She was right though. I needed to calm down and get to my mom. If I was dead…well, the way I figured it, if I was dead I’d be all knowing so I would find out what happened, but that whole being dead thing was gonna suck ass. I quickly stuffed myself into Rachel’s clown car and sat staring forward, waiting for her to pull away from the curb. The light turned green, but Rach didn’t move. I looked over at her, and she was looking back at me. “What?” “Buckle up.” “Rachel, we are going three blocks through a protected intersection. Besides, I cannot buckle all of me into this little motherfucker. There isn’t enough seatbelt to go around.” “Fine. Get out!” “Are you kidding me, Rach?! STOP playing. My mom is in the hospital. She could be dying right now, and you are playing with me. OMG, I could be over there right now, but no, you just had to get me to stuff my ass in this freaking micro machine, and now you want me to…”

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I looked over at Rachel and saw the tears building in her eyes. Make no mistake, my girl was not crying even though her chin was trembling. “You have some nerve! Laugh…go ahead, bitch, laugh! Let me outta this lil’ mutha fucka….” I tried to shove the door open, but Rachel had me locked in. After tiring myself out threatening to kill Rachel and have her Mini Cooper melted down to make earrings, I grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it across my ample chest. I didn’t even pretend to try to buckle it. Just held it there. Rachel pulled away from the curb and up to the stoplight. “What, nothing to say about me not buckling it” “Bitch, no. If you die you die, but at least this way I won’t get pulled over because you don’t have it on. I got a warrant for that speeding ticket from last summer.” I stared out the window and tried to pretend I wasn’t squashed into what amounted to a tuna can on a roller skate running off one battery smaller than my favorite toy. Come to think of it, when Rachel was ‘flooring it,’ the Mini Cooper kind of sounded like my vibe when I put it on high. That shit made me laugh and groan at the same time. I would have turned to Rachel and said something about it just to piss her off, but I wanted to get to my mom, not end up being cut out of the can. Rachel’s a little sensitive about her car

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and a whole lot crazy. She’d run us into oncoming traffic and get us smashed, then blame that shit on me and the other driver. I’ve often wondered where that nutty in her came from. She isn’t just crazy like most folks. She is a special kind of “hey, let’s go attack Russia in the winter” crazy. Matter fact, I know she is beyond that. If she had attacked Russia in the winter, my girl wouldn’t have eaten no horse meat. Nope, cuz she’d have needed that motherfucker to be able to walk right to get her out of there. Instead, she would have lured a fellow soldier to her tent with the promise to “eat him.” No doubt the army would have been short a few men, but my girl Rachel, that bitch would have been sexually satisfied and well fed when she got home. And trust, she would have gotten home. I bet she has some French in her. That might explain the porcelain skin and dark hair. Also might explain why she has that St. Andrew’s cross in her living room that she keeps telling people is a piece of strange art she picked up. Not that I was going to admit to anyone how I knew what a St. Andrew’s cross was, anyway. I jumped out of her car as she pulled up to the main doors of the hospital. Well, I say jumped, but hell, it was more like “popped.” I swear to heaven that thing shivered and sighed in relief when I finally emerged. I wonder if it felt like it had just given birth,

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because I was feeling slightly born again. You know— confused, bewildered , angry and exposed. I glanced around to see if anyone was laughing at me. When it appeared that no one was paying attention, I kicked the door closed and pretended not to hear Rachel yelling about her paint job. Straightening my back and my clothes, I turned and counted to ten. I put on my best “don’t start none cuz it won’t end the way you want it to” face and slammed my fist into the little button that opened the handicap door. When it whooshed open, I strolled in and right up to the information desk. I waited patiently while the two chicken-head candy strippers finished conversing with each other and turned to face me. I didn’t even drum my fingers on the desk, but I couldn’t help but suck on my teeth and bunch my mouth to one side. I wasn’t feeling like being ignored today, but I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Finally, one young lady turned to me and looked me up and down before saying, “Can I help you?” Bitch, you can help me by getting that frown off your face when you look at me. Got your forehead all wrinkled like I disgust you, but your eyes are glued to my cleavage. Closet lesbo. You know you want some chocolate, but I swear ‘fore GOD you touch me, wink

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at me or even breathe wrong at me, you will be a permanent resident of this mug. “Yes, I am trying to find my mother. Lloydia Smythe-Dominquez.” “Dominquez, Dominquez…” the short brunette repeated as she tapped her fingers on the computer monitor and scanned the list of names. She passed a strange look to her counterpart and caught the little redhead’s line of vision. Yeah, I know she is so far in my bra, she knows all Victoria’s secrets. A small wounded look crossed her face, but she quickly recovered and turned to face me again. OH, I SEE!!! IT’s like THAT. Poor baby is at work with her crush, and here her boo is staring me down like I am the last Hershey’s kiss. Mmmm, don’t worry, pumpkin, your stuff may be slippin’ on the side, but it won’t be with this chick. I should get a bigass tattoo on my chest. STRICTLY DICKLY in big bold letters. I mean really, folks are always staring at the goodies anyway, might as well set ‘em straight to begin with. And why is it I get more chicks staring at the curves? Must be jealous. Tryna figure out how to get out the gym and get some curves like these. Damn, focus, Jonica, she’s talking to you again. I shook myself out of my musings. And asked the brunette…Tina to repeat what she’d said.

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“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need to see you’re I.D. Mrs. Dominquez has a guest list. You must be on that list for us to allow you up.” “Are you kidding me!? My mom has a guest list? In a hospital?” I patted my pockets front and back, trying to remember if I had any I.D. on me. Finally, I reached into my bra and pulled out my cell phone. I always keep a copy of my driver’s license tucked there. I handed the I.D. to Tina, but redhead grabbed for it. Without thinking, I curled my upper lip and snarled at her. Freckles pulled her hand back, and Tina looked over my I.D. Okay, this is some straight bullshit. Since when do hospitals have guest lists? What the hell is that all about? “Ma’am, do you mind removing your sunglasses please and looking straight forward?” “What the fu…umm, excuse me?” “It’s nothing, ma’am, just standard security. Your mom is in the private wing, so we just need to get your face on camera. One of the nurses will go confirm your identity with her and then come escort you up.” “Aint’ that some bullshit.” “Yes ma’am, actually it is, but we don’t really get a say in how they do stuff around here. Hang on a second.”

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Tina gave me a weak smile as she handed me back my I.D. and then answered the small white phone. The whole handset had a strange blue glow to it when she picked it up. “Okay, I’ll just send her up, then.” She spoke softly into the receiver. Placing the phone back on the base, she turned to me again, all the while casting sideways glances at the girl next to her. “It’s Jonica, right? Your mom is in room V333. They’re actually short-staffed up there today, so if you’ll just take the black elevator to the third floor, her room is the fifth door on the right. If you get lost, there is a map just outside the elevator, or you can use the call button in the hallway—one of the orderlies can direct you.” “Wow, it’s like I’m in the Ritz or something. Say, sweetheart…I know it’s a lot, but can you do me a huge favor?” I waited while Tina’s smile lit up her face and she bobbed her head up and down. Damn, she got the fever too, huh? Well, work it, Jonica. Mami always did say, “kindness and a wink can get you things.” “I don’t know if my mom put my best friend on her guest list, but when she comes, can you have her call me before you send her up or kick her out? If my

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mom is getting out today, I’m going to need my car to take her home.” I scribbled Rachel’s name and description down on a notepad and handed it back to Tina before sauntering the short distance to the black elevator. Part of me was secretly hoping Rachel wasn’t on Mom’s guest list. Maybe I’d get to see her on one of those TV shows being dragged out of the hospital by security. I rode the elevator to the third floor with my eyes closed and my back pressed to the side wall nearest the buttons. There were two other people on it with me, both getting off on the second floor. I didn’t really make eye contact with them, but I placed myself nearest the controls and the exit. I am not afraid of elevators per say, but I like having a position of dominance in public places. If someone nuts the fuck up, I need to be closest to the exit. I also don’t need some dickhead playing games pushing buttons and breaking shit. Once the two men in scrubs got off on the second floor, I quickly pushed the button to close the door and send it up a floor. I saw the cutie in the lab coat making for the door, but I was hot and needed a moment to adjust my undergarments. I hate underwire bras, but I need the support. I pursed my lips and blew air down my shirt, trying to cool off, and

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prayed there weren’t any cameras in the elevator. Slightly parting my legs, I shifted my weight rapidly from one foot to the other, hoping to cause some sort of breeze between my thighs. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this skirt today, but damn, I hadn’t planned on being out in the freaking heat or having to visit my mother in the VIP section of the hospital either. Pressing the button on the control panel, I released the elevator from its hold and the doors whooshed open. A cool breeze washed over me, and I tipped my head up to bask in the relief. My nostrils flared as the scent of “hospital” invaded my senses. But there was also an underlying hint of…yummm. “Damn.” “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.” The deep voice scared the shit out of me and turned me on all at once. This is it, bitch—you’re about to get mugged in the hospital on your way to some fake VIP section to see your mom. It was a setup. Mami is probably down in the broke people section like normal folks, and you just let two teenage lesbians trick you to your death. I kept my head back and said a silent prayer while crossing myself. One final deep breath later, I lifted my head and looked right into the face of the hottie I’d closed the doors on a floor earlier.

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“So did you just need a moment to yourself, or you don’t like white men?” WTF? I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. My mouth dropped open, and I let out a half choked sound. Cutie was leaning on the wall outside the elevator looking like sex on a plate. With his right hand braced on the wall and his tall frame bent towards me, he leaned in and placed his finger under my jaw. After closing my mouth for me, he reached in further and pushed my sunglasses up my nose. Girl, no ring and no tan line, bettah snap that up before Rachel gets up here and adds him to her collection of whipping boys. “Ummm, huh?” I asked, still taking in the sheer amount of space this man was occupying. I mean really, honey was FIIINNEE, but add to the beauty of him the fact that he so could not have fit in the elevator with me, and you got a whole lotta whoa. He had to be six foot seven, and there was no telling how much all of him weighed. You know a man is big when you can see muscles flexing under some ugly ass green scrubs and a lab coat. Oh, what I’d pay to be that motherfucking lab coat! I must have made some sign of my lust. Hell, I might have moaned, I don’t know. But what I do know is that “Honey”—yeah, I named him “Honey.” How

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could I not, with all that golden tan skin and that thick sable hair and those electric brown eyes to accompany that voice? Anyway, Honey leaned in and sniffed the air just above my shoulder. He made a sound deep in the back of his throat that rumbled through the elevator like thunder. Lightning struck my clit, and I had to clinch my thighs together. I don’t know where I got the strength—maybe it was the fear of having my juices hit the floor like a bull pissing on a flat rock—but I ducked under his arms and darted out of the elevator. When he turned to look at me, I pushed him in his solid chest so that he stepped back into the car, and then I slammed the down arrow. He could have easily stepped out of the car before the doors closed, but he didn’t. He leaned against the back wall and looked me up and down with such passion I broke out in another sweat. The last thing I saw was him pressing his head back against the car and staring directly me. Massive arms crossed over his barrel chest, making the seams of that lab coat scream in agony. As the doors closed, the corner of his full mouth hitched up, and a dimple appeared. I nearly passed out. I stood for a moment, watching the numbers light up as the car descended.

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“Jonica Farran. You’re supposed to be springing me from this joint, not standing there like you’ve never seen an elevator before. Stop that right now. Someone will think you rode the short bus, and they won’t let me outta here.” Once again I let my head fall back on my shoulders. This time I was fighting tears. Mami has no shame in embarrassing me at every turn. I should have known she couldn’t just be at her deathbed and let me rush in like a normal distraught daughter. “Hey, while you’re standing there, you should call Rachel. I am not going home in that circus mobile she calls a car. How the hell am I supposed to fit all my fineness in that lil’ ole thing? Make sure she brings your truck, baby. That hunky Alias Deer said he would make sure to lift me up in the car if I wanted to. I told him he could be your new step-daddy, but from the look of the two of you, he may be my new son-in-law. He has a nice ass, huh, baby?” Mami pulled her head back into the room and left me standing in front of the elevator and the janitor. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my head and make eye contact as I did the “doomed to an ass whipping” shuffle down the hall. I tried to pretend not to hear the laugher coming from the nurses’ station. A million comics out of work and my mom is cracking jokes. Some wheedling and a trip down to the nurses’

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station later, I found out Mami wasn’t going home. In fact, the only place she was going was down stairs to the OR to have what she called “her plumbing” removed. *** Seventy-two hours later, I’d stopped at the office long enough to check in on things and have a word with the crew, letting them know how Mami was and that I was going to be taking several days off. I returned to the hospital, trusting everyone in the office to do their work and keep things running smoothly. Rachel would be in charge, and she would take care of business. Rachel had a secret power fetish, and running things was her favorite activity. If things got out of hand, Rachel would quickly go from social butterfly to tyrant. Now I was standing outside my mother’s hospital room, staring at the empty shell of a candy machine. I’d love to tell you it was empty before I got there, but the truth is between me, Rachel and Pablo we’d worn that sucker down. Mami was on a strict NPO, but that didn’t mean the rest of us had to starve. I looked at the last honey bun as it marched dutifully forward before shuddering to a stop as if it knew its fate was to end up mixed in with its snack machine

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cronies in the cavernous pit of my stomach. I was almost too tired to care that I’d just spent my last dollar in this hulking machine. I dropped my head and closed my eyes in defeat. Maybe I could hold out until they came down to wheel Mom into surgery. Pablo was talking about ordering pizza for us to eat in the waiting room. But hell, they were supposed to have moved her down to prep over four hours ago. Currently, there were no less than eight doctors in her room arguing over the feasibility of removing her ovaries. What I would’ve loved to know was why the hell they didn’t cut those suckers out when they did the hysterectomy all those years ago. Actually, what I really wanted to know was, why the fuck do hospital gowns not close in the damn back? That’s some bullshit, and trust me, with everything I have been through today, walking into my mom’s room and seeing her whole ass exposed has been the most traumatic. I added underwear and floor-length nightgowns to my list of things to pick up for Mom’s VIP visit. The aroma of mouthwatering food had me turning around to look for that source, hoping it was Pablo or Rachel back with some sustenance. What I found was that sexy doctor holding two greasy brown bags in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. “Thought you might be hungry,” he spoke.

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I was fighting a losing battle. I didn’t know if I wanted to jump Dr. Honey, or feed my rumbling stomach that could not be ignored. The greasy bags of burgers from the best joint in town made the decision for me. “I don’t know how you knew I love this place, and I don’t care.” I took the bag from him, sitting down on the nearest chair, and dug in. There were four burgers in one bag and fries in the other. Taking out one grease-stained wrapped burger, I quickly unwrapped it and took a big bite, groaning in appreciation. “Well, don’t just stand there—I need something to drink.” Zeke chuckled as he approached and handed me one of the drinks. Sitting beside me, he took a burger for himself and began to eat. We ate in silence, each of us polishing off two burgers apiece and the large order of fries. Then we simply sat back and relaxed against the uncomfortable plastic chairs, our bellies full and content. *** He had first heard of one Jonica Ferran Dominguez when he’d admitted her mother last week, after she’d come into the ER with stomach pains. Mrs. Lloydia Smythe-Dominquez was one fiery woman with

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a quick tongue and a sharp mind. He had never laughed so much during an examination. However, he was equally frustrated by her as well. She had made it known she had no intentions of having another surgery anytime soon. Apparently she had just broken up with her boyfriend, and she was planning on taking a singles cruise with, of all people, her ex-husband. She’d explained that they’d always been best friends, they just weren’t a good couple. She’d regaled him with story after story of their antics and the drama of raising their daughter. Actually, every time he’d spoken to her she’d made a sales pitch for how he’d make such a great son-in-law. “Jonica is such a demure young woman, she needs a big, strong, handsome man like you to look out for her in this world. Or, I mean, if you like ‘em older, I am on the market.” Zeke laughed now as he thought about how the older woman had unabashedly flirted with him and offered her daughter up as a replacement. But truth be told, he’d hoped to meet Jonica. Lloydia was by no means a bad-looking woman. She was the kind of lady who made a man look forward to his woman aging. Forget wine—she was like a hot pepper. Time only added to the fire. And then he had caught the first glimpse of Jonica at the elevator two days ago, and since then, he

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couldn’t get her out of her mind. She’d stared him in the eyes and then closed the elevator door on him. At first he was ticked off. More than that, he was really angry. He’d just gotten a call that Lloydia was checking herself out of the hospital, and he was trying to get upstairs before the crazy woman actually made her escape. Rushing from a patient’s room to the elevator, he’d gotten there just in time to see...perfection. The angel dressed in a light green button-down shirt and a gauzy knee-length skirt was virtually glowing with energy. There was a slight spark of emotion in her dark eyes. She radiated worry and anxiety, but beneath that, there was something...sinful and strong. Zeke had raced up the flight of stairs. He was going to ignore the woman and her rudeness, but he noticed the elevator had not made it up the one floor. Something about that was odd. And he worried that the emotion he had seen in the woman’s eyes had been something dire. He waited with his hand above the emergency phone until he heard the car come to life and work its way up. As the doors opened before him, he was blocking the exit. He had been so busy checking her out that she pushed him inside the elevator and hit the button, the doors beginning to close. Her antics only made him want her more. He’d never been so instantly

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attracted to anyone. He was about to step out of the elevator when he caught a glimpse over her shoulder. Lloydia was sneaking out of her room. She looked up just in time to see them standing at the elevator. The impish grin on her face told the tale. Busted! He had just interrupted her escape plan, but from the look on the face of her daughter, whom he could now readily recognize, Mrs. Dominquez wasn’t going anywhere but right to surgery. He leaned back against the elevator and let it take him down to the main floor, where he could seclude himself in his administrative offices. A few moments later, he decided he would not be the person operating on Lloydia and passed the case on to a colleague; however, he would be sitting in on all patient meetings. And he would be finding out more about Lloydia’s “demure little girl.” *** Looking over at Jonica as she wiped the last bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth, he was again struck by her beauty. She looked up and caught his gaze and immediately looked away. He could tell by the way she was fidgeting that she was about to make another of her escapes. “So I checked on your mother before I came up here. They had an emergency

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surgery, car wreck on the loop, but as soon as a room is clear they’ll begin. From start to finish the whole thing should only take about an hour, and then she’ll spend an hour or so in recovery.” He watched intently as Jonica stilled her movements and closed her eyes. Her throat worked, and she held her breath. When she looked back at him, her eyes were moist with emotion. “Your dad is downstairs with her now. Everything should run smoothly, Jonica. Don’t worry. The performing surgeon is great, and this is all routine.” “Listen, it may be all routine, but that’s my mother, so all your mouthing is not going to mean a thing until I see her and she’s come through it okay. Two days ago you guys where telling me about all the risks and how her heart is weak, and now you want me to just sit here calmly.” The emotion in her voice, the passion in her eyes...all of it beckoned to Zeke. All he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and protect her. Two days of observation and he could tell that Jonica was strong and fiesty, just like her parents, but deep down, she was all woman. Sensitive and delicate. Lloydia was right. Her daughter did need a big, strong man, but not just any man. In that moment, Zeke was determined he was going to be the man for Jonica. Hell, he already had both of her parents’ blessings.

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“I am sorry, Jonica—I don’t mean to patronize you or belittle your fears. You are right—there is always some risk in any surgery. But your mom is a fighter. It’s going to take a lot more than some ‘pipe work,’ as she called it, to slow her down.” A slight smile crossed her face. “How did you manage to convince Mami to go through with this surgery anyway? She was determined to go home.” She tossed the question at him. Color rushed up his neck, and he looked away. “What? She made you promise something ridiculous if she did it, didn’t she?” Zeke couldn’t look her in the face. How was he going to explain that he’d bargained with her mother to get her to have the surgery she so obviously needed? Not that the price wasn’t worth it. He just didn’t think Jonica was going to be in agreement. He was about to explain himself when he saw a tall man walking towards them. Jonica stood and rushed into the man’s arms. Zeke went on red alert. He could hear the man murmuring to Jonica. It was the same voice he’d heard over the phone in the last few days. Who was this man to Jonica? ***

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I pulled back from Rob’s arm and brought him forward to introduce him to Zeke. “This is Rob, a coworker. Rob, this is Dr. McAllister, one of my mom’s doctors,” I made the introductions. It was then I noticed the tension sparkling in the air. I looked between both men as they stared each other down. I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “You two are so funny. Oh my God, I wish Rachel was here to see this. We’d both be peeing our pants.” I broke up, tears streaming down my face as laughter consumed me. I was sent into another fit of laughter as both men stared down at me, arms crossed, looking none too pleased. Rob muttered something under his breath and stalked off, saying he had better things to do than have me laugh at him. Yeah, that man definitely had better things to do, or rather someone to do, if he just quit playing around and accepted what Rachel was offering. I was going to give him several more days before I intervened. I didn’t want my sister doubting herself. Sobering up a bit, I took out my phone and sent a text to Rachel about how I didn’t want to be left alone with the hot doctor. Hitting the send button, I turned up to see Zeke still staring down at me. “You done laughing?” Zeke asked. I wiped my tears and nodded. “Yes, thank you for getting my mind off of my mom’s surgery.”

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“That wasn’t how I had planned it, but you’re welcome.” *** Zeke watched as Jonica smoothed her hands over her thighs, and immediately he wanted to lift her in his arms and have her wrap those legs around him. He was seconds away from telling her just how beautiful he thought she was when an angry Rob rounded the corner and stalked up to them. “Excuse me, Zeke, wasn’t it? I need to speak to Jonica.” Zeke didn’t like the way the man seemed to feel he had some claim to the woman, and he hated even more the soft way Jonica looked at Rob and the way she placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled away. He stood staring at the two of them as they conversed a few yards away. Rob kept looking his way, making him want to go over there and ask what his problem was. But Jonica patted his arm in a friendly way, and soon he was gone. Zeke waited for her to make her return. “Sorry about that. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Jonica didn’t elaborate, and he was going to push her for more when his pager went off.

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“Just got a page from surgery—your mother is being prepared.” He saw the worry enter her eyes again. Zeke didn’t stop himself this time. Throwing caution to the wind, he took her into his arms, giving her the hug she needed. “Thanks, Zeke—I really needed that.” “Whenever you are ready, we can go up to the surgical waiting area.” Jonica pulled back, and they walked up to the waiting room. Finding a spot, they began the waiting game. It was a new experience for Zeke. He was usually the one performing the operations. Now he finally got to see what it was to wait for updates on a loved one. As a surgeon, his focus was solely on his patient; the family members never figured into his thoughts until the surgery was complete and he went to give them the news. *** Almost two hours later, I wanted to pull my hair out. We were the only ones left in the waiting area. It seemed my momma was the only one still in surgery. I’d already sent Zeke to go check why it was taking so damn long. “There was a small complication, but everything is going well.”

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“What the hell do you mean ‘complication’?” I almost went out of my mind when I heard that word. ‘Complication’ was not a word I wanted to hear when my momma was in surgery! “Only a small one. There was scarring from previous surgeries that prevented the surgeon from getting where he needed to. It was a minor setback, but he was finally able to get in. We just have to be patient.” Zeke was soon going to find out that ‘patient’ was not in my vocabulary. I stood and began pacing, having lost feeling in my ass. I didn’t know how Zeke could just sit there so calmly. Of course it wasn’t his mother on the operating table. My phone went off. I looked at the number— Rachel. We’d been texting back and forth all day. “Bitch, did Mami escape or what? This is taking way too long. You said they started hours ago. Do I need to come up there? Where is Pablo? Jonica Farran, can you hear me?” “Chingada, si te olli. Si no te quedas callada un segundo no tengo tiempo ni para parpadear, menos responder...” I started rapidly before slamming my hand over my face and breathing deeply. Tears burned my eyes, and I felt the energy beginning to slip from my body. Something was wrong. I opened my eyes in

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time to see Zeke rushing back through the double doors that led to the operating center. Slowly I recognized my father’s arm coming around my shoulder, guiding me from the center of the room to one of the chairs that sat in silent rows, sturdy yet uncomfortable soldiers. I didn’t protest when Pablo took the phone and spoke softly to Rachel. I didn’t react when he hung up the phone and tucked it into his pocket. I hardly blinked when he pulled me across the seat and onto his lap and began to sing in Spanish, his mellow tenor wrapping me in the familiar warmth of my childhood. I couldn’t be comforted, for I was trapped within myself; fear bit at my soul. As the hands of the clock ticked loudly, people came and went. I barely acknowledged Rachel’s appearance, nor the fact that she left the hospital right before Rob showed up to check on her himself. He didn’t stay long either. Or if he did, I didn’t notice. Other coworkers and friends stopped by or called. At some point, one of Rachel’s cousins took my keys so she could stop by my home and walk the dog. I had a moment of panic thinking that Claymore, my mixed breed great dane/ bull mastiff, was home alone, hungry and needing badly to relieve himself. Five hours later, I was slouched deeply in one of the chairs, my head resting on my father’s shoulder as

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we both watched the muted television hanging in the corner. *** Zeke was tired. No, tired was what one was after working a part-time job in a call center selling insurance or taking surveys. Zeke was beyond tired. He was bone tired, dog ass tired. Weary and emotionally drained. He had never had such a dramatic and stressful day. Never had he had a patient so extravagant and complex as Lloydia. The woman couldn’t even have a routine hysterectomy. Nope, she had to come out of anesthesia mid surgery and then nearly die twice. Once she was stabilized, they’d managed to complete the hysterectomy and stitch her back together. Zeke had gotten cleaned up and spent the last two hours monitoring her in recovery. He’d refused to leave her side even when the attending surgeon had declared she was okay to move back to her room. His was the first face he wanted Lloydia to see when she came to. Or so he had thought Waking from the heavy dose of drugs, Mami had smiled faintly before cussing him like he was a common criminal. Once the sailor-esque sermon was over, she then declared she’d kept her end of their bargain by having the surgery and not “going to the

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upper room.” She was calling in her marker. Zeke was to leave immediately and take care of her baby. That meant copious amounts of spoiling, pampering and relaxing, all of which Mami had given him specific instructions on how to carry out. There were also instructions on how to “satisfy” Jonica’s more “adult needs” and a list of foods that were both Jonica’s favorites and on Mami’s “surefire to get her in the mood” list. He’d kissed the aging pixie on her forehead and held her hand until sleep claimed her before making his way to the waiting room. He arrived just in time to catch the end of the attending surgeon’s explanation of how the operation went. He witnessed something else as well. Over the past few days, both Lloydia and Pablo had explained why their marriage had failed, but looking into Pablo’s face, Zeke saw true, unadulterated love. Pablo and Lloydia may pretend they couldn’t stand each other, but Pablo loved that woman. Zeke hoped maybe the two would be able to reconcile. It would be important to both himself and Jonica that the two came together. He intended to be part of Jonica’s life for a long time. And in the short time he’d known all three, he’d become attached to them. Waiting in the background as hugs and well wishes went around, Zeke’s gaze never left Jonica,

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following her around the waiting room. Lloydia would only be allowed two visitors for fifteen minutes, so everyone but Jonica and Pablo left, knowing Lloydia was resting comfortably in her room and promising to return tomorrow during visiting hours. Nobody noticed him standing in the background, and that was just fine with him. He only cared about one person, and she was now making her way to her mother’s room. Fifteen minutes later, he was waiting for her outside Lloydia’s room. He wasn’t prepared for the sight of her cradled in her father’s arms. He could see the adrenaline and some of the stress finally draining and the beginning stages of exhaustion setting in. He braced his feet apart and waited while he watched Pablo rocking his daughter slightly from side to side. The sheer look of love and comfort that passed between them tightened his heartstrings. As awed as he was to see that exchange, he couldn’t wait to have his woman in his arms. He didn’t misread the warning in Pablo’s eye, nor the way the man held on to his baby girl a few seconds longer and then didn’t back away once she was in Zeke’s arms. He sent his future father-in-law a look that promised he’d give his life for Jonica. All of his emotions, his soul itself poured from his dark eyes. Only when Pablo gave him a barely perceptive nod did

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Zeke look down at the angel in his arms. Already Jonica was dozing, her breathing becoming deeper as she snuggled her face into his shoulder. “Ready to go home, baby?” Zeke asked softly. At her nod, he led her out to his SUV. After making sure she was safely buckled in, he went around to the driver’s seat and got in. Jonica was out cold in the short time it took him to drive out of the parking garage. He smiled. Arriving home and parking in the garage, he got out and unlocked the door leading into the house before going over to Jonica. Opening her door and undoing the seatbelt, Zeke took her in his arms and carried her inside, all the way up the stairs and onto his bed. Leaving her clothes on, he only took off her shoes before tucking her in. He needed a shower, so he kept quietly moving around the room. Not that it mattered, because it looked like Jonica was out like a light. After showering and locking down the house for the night, he slipped in bed with Jonica. It wasn’t easy, being that she had taken command of his bed. And being a big man, he had a Texas-size bed. Maneuvering himself, he found a comfortable position and reeled her into his arms. ***

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I woke up at five a.m. There was nothing unusual about that. My body’s internal alarm clock was set from years of training. What was unusual was my state of dress. I hadn’t fallen asleep nude since my freshman year in college, when the parties had been frequent and the nights lasted forever. I always dressed for bed after following a strict bath time routine. And since there was no man in my life, there was no chance of something “fun” having happened. Stretching and yawning deeply, I settled back against the warmth radiating against my back. It felt nice, but I really wanted to roll over. Feeling with my hand, I knew I was close to the edge of the bed. “MOVE, Rach,” I mumbled. When my best friend didn’t budge, I tried again. “Dammit, Rachel, I know you’ve lost your whole ass mind trying to cuddle me up outta my own bed, move over!” I accented my frustration by thrusting my considerable backside against my best friend in an attempt to win a few more inches of mattress surface. What I gained was the realization of two things. First, I was not in my own bed, and secondly, it wasn’t Rachel behind me in the bed that was not my own. With a speed that couldn’t be caught on camera, I shot out of the bed and towards the open doorway directly in front of me. My bare feet moved like

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lightning, but still I registered the deep pile of the lush, caramel-colored carpet. I missed the warmth of that carpet the second my feet touched the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Not that my feet were on the floor long. I slammed and locked the door without ever turning around. Moments later, I was perched on the tank of the toilet with a decorative candleholder clinched in my hands. I listened for sounds from the room I’d vacated, my body tensing when I heard movement close to the door. After about three minutes, when I could no longer hear any movement, I moved from my perch and took in the room. Finding a security badge on the large double vanity, I flipped it over and discovered my captor’s identity. Well, this wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to take Rob up on his wager, but now that I was here…. I knew Mom had to be okay, or Pablo wouldn’t have allowed Zeke to take me away. So I decided to spend some time relaxing and enjoying all that was Dr. Ezekial McAllister. *** Zeke couldn’t suppress the laugh that rumbled deep within him. Jonica fleeing his bed was nothing to laugh about, but the joy of knowing she was in his home after having spent the last three nights cradled

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in his arms warmed him more than any thought ever had. Rolling over onto his back, he stretched languidly before getting up and striding to his massive closet, where he found a pair of drawstring shorts and his favorite jersey. He’d had that jersey since high school, though he didn’t wear it anymore. He was several pounds larger and nearly a foot taller than he’d been fifteen years ago. He placed the clothes in a neat pile, along with a fresh towel and a hairbrush, on the floor in front of the bathroom door. He tapped softly and then walked away, sure Jonica wouldn’t open the door until he was gone. After sliding on a pair of baggy sports shorts himself, he made his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and steel himself for the lecture/cussing of a lifetime. The first of many to come, if he had his way. He went to the den first to check on Jonica’s dog. He wasn’t surprised to find the large dog sprawled tip to tail over the end of the chaise lounge. The first night he’d brought Jonica home, he’d been awoken at midnight by a pounding on his door. When he’d given her parents his address and telephone number, he’d never expected to find the older man standing at his door with a full grown beast at his side. There was no other way to describe Jonica’s dog. Claymore was the canine embodiment of his name. With his large build, the dog looked

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menacing; when his teeth were bared, he could easily make people back away. Apparently he also had a tendency to be a klutz. Pablo had simply handed him the leash, which consisted of a very large rope attached to a studded rhinestone collar. Zeke had started to protest, but Pablo had quickly interrupted. “Son, my daughter is a package deal. You get me, her mother and the dog. Welcome to the family. And remember: you hurt my baby, I’ll give Claymore here the secret order to eat your nuts for dinner.” Turning, the debonair older man had walked down the drive with his hands in his pocket, whistling merrily before getting into his luxury sedan and driving away. Zeke paused in the doorway, watching the dog. He slept much like his mistress, sprawled wildly, limbs akimbo and snoring soundly. A smile tugged at Zeke’s lips. “Breakfast in ten, dog.” He spoke loudly enough to wake the beast. Claymore simply cracked one deep brown eye and looked at him with what Zeke could only describe as sheer disinterest. “Hey, suits me fine if you sleep the day away. I don’t care if you eat or not. But your mom’s awake, and she might like to see your face.” Zeke turned and walked away from the dog. He’d taken to speaking to him like he would a person. Though Jonica had been in his home for nearly a

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week, she’d been suffering from a serious case of exhaustion. With the exception of brief trips to the restroom and the times he forced her to wake and drink water or broth, she’d barely stirred. According to her mother, she worked too hard and often sacrificed quality rest for long hours in the office. Add the stress of Lloydia’s recent illness, and it was no wonder her body had conked out. Zeke intended to rectify that. He was going to be looking out for her from now on. He was sure that with her parents and friends on his side, Jonica would only maim him slightly. Maybe if he disguised his efforts in acts of devotion and pampering, she would be more receptive. If anything, in the short time he’d known Jonica, he’d learned that she was strong willed and fiercely independent. The only thing she truly needed to survive was herself. But that was going to change. She was his now, and she was going to just have to get used to him. Where she went, he would go also. And there would never be anywhere he would go without taking her with him. He never intended to leave her side. ***

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I followed my nose down the hall and into the kitchen, where the smell of bacon and coffee lured me from the safety of the large master bath. After a long, hot shower and brushing my teeth, I suddenly felt as if I hadn’t eaten in several days. In fact, I couldn’t really tell what day it was. The last thing I remembered was finally being able to see Mom after the surgery. I vaguely recalled someone making me drink a really lame excuse for broth. What I did remember was the dreams. Someone…some male, big and strong, rocking me in my sleep. A deep baritone singing beautiful arias and haunting ballads. The voice thrilled and soothed me. But my favorite was when it sang some of the more popular country love songs. I knew now that I was in Zeke’s home, and I wanted more than anything to believe my dreams had been real. That it had been Zeke singing to me. But in the harsh light of wakefulness, I doubted it was so. Sure, there was a desire, a chemistry, but that was just hormones. Love took longer, didn’t it? Rounding the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway, laughter bubbling through me. Zeke and Claymore were sitting at opposite ends of the breakfast table, Zeke eating from a punch bowl filled with milk and cereal, and Claymore happily munching away at an equally big bowl of kibble. The two eyed each other as if having a telepathic conversation. Both

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males seemed as if they would be completely content as long as the other stayed at their end of the table and didn’t attempt to filch food from his bowl. “So did the two of you save me anything?” Zeke immediately dropped the serving spoon he was eating from back in the bow with a loud clang and turned his attention to me. Claymore, however, only made a slight snuffling sound of acknowledgement before diving face deep into his bowl. “Wow, I see where your loyalties lie, dog.” Claymore didn’t bother to respond. “Just wait till we get home—I’’m gonna let Rachel bathe you and paint your nails again. Mangy no good fleabag.” Claymore lifted his head and gave me his biggest doggy grin. Zeke tossed back his head and roared with laughter. “Listen, tell me what’s so funny, and make my plate at the same time, okay? I’m starved. What time is it? I gotta hurry and go check on my mom and get home.” Zeke’s laughter faded instantly at my mention of returning to my own home. His honey eyes narrowed and darkened, and the muscle on his chiseled jaw ticked. Spinning on his heel, he presented me with his back, toned and rippling with tensed muscles covered in tanned skin.

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When he spoke, his voice was low and deep and deceptively calm. “Grab a seat and I’ll feed you before we go see your parents. Your mom should be released from the hospital soon. And you’re right about getting home. I want to get you back here as soon as possible.” “Hello, delusional, I said I was going home after I see my mom. I said nothing about coming back here,” I challenged as I took the seat he’d abandoned and absentmindedly rubbed my feet over Claymore’s prone body. The dog groaned aloud from his position under the table. Zeke placed a plate in front of me without commenting. I wasn’t fool enough to believe his silence was agreement, but I was too hungry to bother with it. I downed my orange juice and waited as Zeke poured more for her. I was munching away on the best bacon I could ever remember having while slathering a piece of toast with apple butter, when Zeke’s phone rang. I idly listened to him answer the phone and speak briefly to whoever was on the other end of the line. “McAllister...yes. I’ll tell her. We’ll be right there.” Butterflies and dread immediately settled in the pit of my stomach, causing it to pitch and roll.

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Something wasn’t right—I could tell just by the tone of Zeke’s voice. My hand stopped with the piece of toast midway to my mouth. Forcing myself to swallow the mound of food I’d been chewing, I waited for Zeke to hang up. “Jonica, we have to go. Rachel was attacked at work today.” I didn’t wait for Zeke to finish before I was out of the kitchen and heading for the front door, Claymore right on my heels. I caught up to her just as I was about to open the door and bolt for my vehicle. *** “Motherfucker, you need to move, and you need to move right fucking now.” The venom in Jonica’s voice stirred something within Zeke. The tone even set Claymore on alert, and he growled a warning deep in his throat. He knew how much she loved her friend, but he couldn’t let her go half cocked, and surely not by herself. “Baby, listen, that was Rob. Rachel is okay and we are going to get to her, but you need to get your shoes and I need to get dressed. I promise you we will take care of it, but I’m not letting you go by yourself. You will wait right here while I get your shoes and put on a shirt, and we’ll go together.”

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Zeke could feel the energy rolling off of Jonica; she was stiff as a board, and he could feel her heart thundering so hard it felt as if it might beat right out of her chest and into his. His heart ached for her. There were silent, hot tears running down her face, and she was virtually vibrating with pent-up rage. He didn’t know what had happened to Rachel, but when he found the cunt motherfucker who’d caused his woman this distress, he was going to rip his spinal cord through his belly button, deep fry it and feed it to Claymore. “Jonica, baby, look at me. Give me two seconds and we’ll go.” She didn’t speak, but she did nod her head. So slight was the move that he almost thought he imagined it. He didn’t hesitate any longer. Running down the hall, he slammed his feet into his favorite running shoes sans socks and snatched up Jonica’s sandals. Striding back down the hall, he was met with an open front door and the sound of two running engines. Jonica had started his truck and left it running, and she and Claymore were sitting in her SUV. She revved the engine before peeling out of his driveway. He barely had time to slide into his truck before he saw her blinker come on as she turned out on the road and disappeared. Pulling his tee shirt on, he threw the

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big vehicle into drive and shouted at the hands free system, calling Rob and alerting him of Jonica’s arrival. *** By the time Zeke and I arrived at the leasing office, Rachel had already headed downtown. Apparently she had been to the police department and was on her way to meet with the punk bitch’s lawyers. I slammed into my office. After questioning every employee, I called the cops back to witness the eviction of the resident. There were extra officers dispatched too, and the city of Dallas definitely earned their money. Every employee was lined up as they escorted the young man off the property. The maintenance crew brought over a trailer, and in twenty minutes flat, all off his possessions had been packed and loaded. I didn’t care about the legality of it. I wanted nothing more to smash his face into the cement, but between Rob and Zeke, I never got more than a glimpse at him. Zeke would have stayed with me, but he was paged to the hospital for a meeting. He left reluctantly only after Rob assured him he’d look after me. Frustrated with the two men talking about me as if I wasn’t there, I stormed into Rob’s apartment and

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slammed the door. But I barely made it across the living room before the door was kicked open, the heavy metal hitting the wall so hard the doorknob stuck into the sheetrock. I turned to see Zeke, and I was so angry that I launched myself at him. He caught me up in his strong arms and crushed me to him. The kiss was rough and volatile and fierce; we clamored and clawed at each other. I wrapped my fingers in his hair and pulled. Zeke braced himself against the doorway and pulled my legs around his waist. Locked in each other’s embrace, we let a long, passionate moment pass before the applause of the leasing and maintenance crews registered, and we sprung apart as if burned. I searched Zeke’s face, hoping to find answers to the questions I couldn’t ask. The desire I saw in his eyes had me fighting to keep from molding my body back to his. *** Zeke would have rather fallen on a sword than walked away from Jonica in this moment. She looked so—damn. Like love. He wanted her. Wanted to soothe her fears with his body, wanted to slake his lust over her. Wanted to battle her for dominance. Wanted to fuck her until passion had slain them both. He knew if he didn’t leave immediately, he’d take her right there

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in front of God and everyone. He’d mark her as his own, and in doing so make every man there want to sign up for courses on how to claim a woman. If he didn’t leave, he wouldn’t stop until he was deep within her and she was screaming his name. And if it hadn’t been for Rob stepping between them and closing the door, he wouldn’t have left. Dropping his head, he breathed deeply for several moments. He could hear Rob on the other side of the door complaining about how Jonica was going to have to repair the hole in the wall. Looking down at Claymore, he sighed dejectedly and headed for his truck. Once inside, he turned on the a/c full blast. Claymore sat panting in the passenger seat. “Yeah, tell me about it,” Zeke said to the dog as they pulled out of the parking lot. *** Rob stood staring at me for a long moment before going to his wet bar and pouring himself a whiskey. He turned and looked me, his brow raised askance. When I nodded, he poured a second for me. “Double it,” I snapped. He did so without question and handed me the glass. Simultaneously we knocked back the drinks. “So when’s the wedding?”

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I didn’t bother answering, but the one-finger salute I gave caused him to laugh. “Honey, no man kisses a woman like that and doesn’t plan on marrying her.” “Oh yeah, you kiss Rachel yet?” Rob wrinkled his brow and poured himself another drink. “I didn’t think so. Like I said, stop fucking around and fuck her already.” Rob didn’t say anything, just turned his back and sat heavily on the piano bench, hand on his lap and fingers twitching. I sighed deeply. “Let me go get my tool belt and I’ll patch that hole up.” Rob glanced up at me as he began to play, his fingers dancing over the keys of the piano. “Fix my toilet for me and I’ll play at your wedding for free.” We shared a moment, small smiles dancing on each of our faces before I slipped out to gather my tools. *** I was just packing up after having fixed both the hole in the wall and Rob’s toilet. We’d had a fiveminute spat about my leaving before Zeke got back, but I’d promised Rob I was going to go home and

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shower and then go directly to the hospital and visit Mom. In turn, Rob promised to not go seeking the resident who’d tried to feel Rachel up, and to make sure that he made Rachel his. I’d just stepped out of the apartment when I was confronted by an angry Rachel. “You have ten seconds to tell me why the hell you are coming out of Rob’s apartment this late. Is he the new mystery man you’ve been seeing? Is he?!” Rachel screamed. “You’d better back up right now, Rachel. You know I would never do anything like that to you.” I’d never stolen anyone’s man—well, any friend’s man— and I wasn’t going to start now. I wanted to laugh but knew it would further enrage Rachel. “So then what the fuck are you doing in his apartment?” “Bitch, don’t you dare take that tone with me. I was coming into the office, after finding out you were almost assaulted, when I ran into Rob and stopped him from going after the asshole. He needed someone smaller than him to squeeze in to fix his toilet and fix the hole Zeke left from pushing open the door, hence me wearing my belt.” I watched as Rachel looked down and saw the purple tool belt riding low on my hips. “But since you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask him?”

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I’d had enough. Grabbing Rachel’s arm, I pushed her into Rob’s apartment. “Rob, you’d better fuck her brains out before I beat them in. You’d better set her straight. And then I want you both to be in my office tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp for apologies.” I slammed the door behind me and headed to my truck. I felt like punching something. Rachel was damn lucky I loved her to death, because if it had been any other woman, I would have punched her face in for false accusations. Stomping to my truck, I thought of ways to make Rachel beg for forgiveness. I was going to make her pay for thinking the worst of me. After all the stress I’d been under—the busy leasing season, and my mother’s illness as well as my own. And then having my sister attacked, on top of dealing with the feelings I was developing for Zeke—a man I’d only known a few days. I was furious; how could Rachel ever have thought I’d betray her? No, this was not going to be a simple “I’m sorry.” Rachel was going to be groveling for the rest of her life. Maybe I’d let one of the girls in the office be my maid of honor when Zeke and I got married. I slammed on the breaks as I pulled into the hospital parking lot. Where the hell had that thought come from? The man kisses my panties off, and I’m talking about marrying him. What the hell! NO! The most

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this is gonna be is some hot sex. Who cares that he talks to my dog at the breakfast table? If Claymore loves him so much, he can go live with Zeke. Save me on my grocery bill. I mean, no one told him to bundle me up and take me home. They could have just checked me into the hospital. Just because I woke up with his dick in the crack of my ass. And it was big and... I tossed my head back and screamed at the roof of my SUV. This conversation with myself was going nowhere. I was confused and pissed and “WHAT THE FUCK….” Having rolled my head to the side, I looked through the passenger window and saw Zeke wheeling my mother out of the hospital. Pablo was standing next to the open passenger door of his car wearing the nicest tuxedo I’d had ever seen. Mami was dressed in a simple cream sheath dress and had the hugest diamond ring on her left hand. Muttering to myself, I slammed the car into park and jumped out. “I can’t take any more damn drama or surprises or anything. I am stressed and tired and...” “Horny?” Mami interrupted. I stood before the trio, chest heaving, mind racing and mouth open. Pablo wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.

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“Don’t talk like that in front of Jonica, Lloydia— you know how sensitive she is.” He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. “Someone please tell me what the hell is going?” I asked, my voice wavering. I could feel anxious tears building in my eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Jonica Farran. Papi and I just decided to renew our vows. No big deal.” My head whipped back and forth between my parents. I stuttered, stopped and closed my mouth. I couldn’t even think how to verbalize all the questions running through my mind. Pablo squeezed my hand and spoke softly. “I know you have many questions, my heart. And your mother and I have answers, but now is not the time. Both of my girls needs some rest, don’t you think, Zeke? Let me take your mother home. You go home with Zeke and we’ll meet later on. We can have a good meal and a long talk then. Okay?” “I think that’s an excellent idea, Pablo. Both Jonica and Lloydia have had a rough couple of weeks. I think everyone needs to get a good night’s rest, and then we can talk later.” I didn’t argue as my father led me to the passenger side of my SUV and tucked me in. I waited silently, watching the two men get my mother settled into the sedan. Tears slid down my cheeks as Pablo

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pulled Zeke in for a quick embrace before getting into the car and pulling away from the loading zone. Zeke got into my SUV, and I didn’t even ask him where we were going. I just stared out the window as he drove. I was mildly confused when we pulled up at my house—I’d thought we were headed for Zeke’s. I waited until he pulled into the garage and pressed the button to bring the large bay door down. Once the garage door was closed, I turned to him, but every question I wanted to ask was clogged behind tears in my throat. What the hell was going on with my parents? What the hell was going on between us? Why were we here at my home when he’d taken care of me at his while I was sick? There were a million questions, and I—strong, take no prisoners Jonica—was mute. I couldn’t have spoken if my life depended on it. And for all I knew my life, my happiness, my dreams very well could depend it. *** Zeke sat with his hands in textbook position on the steering wheel. Two and ten. Eyes a hundred yard ahead. Mind stuck on the woman next to him. His palms were sweaty, and he was nervous. There’d been so much going on around Jonica in the last few days. How was he ever going to convince her that in the

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short time since she’d closed him out of the elevator, he’d fallen madly in love with her? Was this the craziness that had happened between Pablo and Lloydia? How was he going to reassure her they wouldn’t end up like her parents had, forced to spend the better part of nearly thirty years apart? So passionately in love, but clueless as how to make a relationship work outside the bedroom. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, afraid that if he looked at her dead on he’d break down and cry, confess his love and make her think he was a grade-A wuss, Zeke held his breath and waited for her to move. *** I’d had enough waiting. Biting the inside of my cheek, I asked, “Did you know my parents were getting married today?” “No, not until after I got to the hospital. And not married—renewed. According to your parents, they’ve always been in love. Been married since two years before you were born. They just...their personalities were so strong, they just couldn’t get along. When you came along, they decided to separate. They didn’t want you to suffer from their selfishness. Apparently they’ve been on and off again all along. Your mom says she’s dated a lot, but she could never bring herself to have

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sex with anyone other than your dad. And, well, your dad... You know, maybe they should be telling you all this. BUT we are not them. Jonica, I know you’re confused and tired. But trust me when I say we are not your parents. I am nothing like your father. Well, maybe I am. I love you, and he loves you. Hell, I even think I love your mom, and she pinched me on the ass five minutes after I met her. I am telling you now, I intend to be in your life. We don’t have to get married right away. We don’t have to have kids soon either. Hell, if you don’t want to get married, then I will be your boyfriend for the rest of my life. You were meant to be my woman. I knew it the moment your mom started talking about you. I knew it the moment I saw you blowing air down your shirt in that elevator before you closed the doors and made me run up a flight of stairs. You don’t have to say you love me. Just say you’ll let me be your man.” “Well, damn.” Jonica sighed. She turned in her seat and undid her seatbelt before getting out of the car and walking to the door. As soon as she opened it, Claymore rushed out and ran right past her to Zeke. ***

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“Ain’t that about a bitch,” I muttered hotly to myself. Stepping into the cool kitchen, I made my way to the fridge, snagged a mini bottle of orange juice and guzzled it down. I’d started to throw the bottle in the trash when I caught Zeke looking at me from the doorway. Both he and Claymore had the most pathetic looks on their faces. It should have been against the law for them to both be that damn big and look so disgustingly sweet. “Well, damn,” I said again. “Look, you might as well come in. I need a shower, and then we can talk.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I headed down the hall, muttering the whole way. *** Zeke waited until he was sure Jonica was under the spray of the water before he moved. “Well, beast, whataya think?” he asked. Claymore gave him a longsuffering look before walking over to his own bed and plopping down. Zeke laughed when he noticed the dog had dragged out a smaller stuffed dog with a pink bow perched between its ears. Claymore snuggled down with his toy resting securely beneath one massive paw and gave Zeke a look that said, “Dude, go claim your woman” before closing his eyes and promptly dismissing him. Zeke

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laughed aloud. Claymore had it right. A woman like Jonica wasn’t going to fall for flowery words. He needed to put some action behind his proclamation. He needed to stake his claim and fight for it every day. Even if that meant fighting Jonica herself. He went back out to Jonica’s truck and snagged the ring box he’d hidden there. He’d had it at the hospital when he’d asked Lloydia and Pablo for their blessing, which he’d received along with death threats from Pablo and sex tips from Loydia. He’d then stood as witness to their vows in the chapel downstairs. Sneaking in to the small hall bath, he sucked in his breath. There was no door on the shower, and Jonica stood there giving him the most decadent view of her backside. Zeke listened as she talked to herself about the day’s events. Well, argued with herself was more like it. When she began chastising herself for liking the way he’d felt behind her in bed, Zeke slipped under the spray with her, pinning her nakedness against the cool tiles. *** “You know they say if you argue with yourself and lose, it’s a sign of insanity.” “Who said I was losing? I mean, if I am arguing with myself, it stands to reason that I would win as

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well.” I tried to sound cool and aloof, but Zeke’s tongue in my ear and pulsing cock at my ass was causing me to wonder why we were talking to begin with. “Besides, I wasn’t arguing. I was...ummm, yeah...ummm, getting a second opinion.” “Oh yeah?” Zeke asked as he palmed her large breasts. “And what do you think?” My eyes slammed shut as he pinched my nipple with one hand and my clit with the other. “That I am fucked.” “Not yet you aren’t, but you’re about to be.” Zeke didn’t hesitate to make good on his declaration as he bent his knees, letting the length of his shaft caress the underside of my rounded ass. He rubbed the head of his cock over my pulsing labia before he found his entrance and sank home. I felt my eyes roll back into my head. With one arm wrapped solidly under my breast and the other snaked around my waist, Zeke brought me to nirvana. When his fingers resumed their dance on my clit, I sang his praises and showered his rod with hot, sticky nectar. The third time he brought me to orgasm, I thought I might drown. We’d somehow backed up so that I was leaning, bent from the waist, my hand braced against the wall, with Zeke thrusting away like a mad man. My thighs were beginning to tremble, and my knees were becoming weak.

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Just when I thought I couldn’t handle any more, Zeke pulled out and dragged me from the shower. He stopped just long enough to turn off the water and spread a thick towel on the floor. Lying on his back, he pulled me over his face and sighed. When the tip of his tongue hit my sex, I screamed. I wanted to stand, to move to escape the pure pleasure, but Zeke held me firmly to his mouth as he kissed and licked and suckled. I came over and over and over and over until I couldn’t hold myself up any longer. I let myself slump forward, with my hands on the floor above Zeke’s head and my pussy still in direct contact with his probing tongue. “If you don’t stop, I am going to die. I need...I need…” *** “Me...you need me to fuck you. You need me to put my dick into the best pussy it’s ever had and teach you why no other man can replace me,” Zeke answered for her. He didn’t give her a moment to think before he slid from under her and then stood, scooping her up and to his chest before striding down the hall until he found her bedroom. After he placed her on the bed, he sank between her legs and kissed her long and deep.

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He put every ounce of himself into the kiss. All of his love and devotion pouring from his heart and soul, out of his mouth and into hers. Slowly he brought her legs up on either side of his hips and then guided her to lock her ankles at his back. Once she was in position he sank into her, breaking their kiss but joining their bodies. Deep within her his rod pulsed, ready to be stroked in and out. Jonica milked him with her walls, but Zeke held his ground. Not moving, but staring at her intently he stayed as still as art until she opened her eyes and focused on his gaze. When he was sure she was about to question him, he sang. He prayed that God would give him the inflection he needed, to let Jonica know how much he meant the lyrics. Tears ran down his face, dropping onto Jonica’s cheeks, and his voice wavered slightly as he neared the end of the ballad. “I cross my heart and promise to give all I’ve got to make all your dreams come true. In all the world, you’ll never find a love as true as mine.” *** I cried silently, my chest heaving as Zeke finished his song. I’d never heard anything so beautiful. Never seen anything more glorious than this man. This man who’d had made himself as vulnerable

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as possible and then opened his chest and exposed his beating heart to me. Reaching up, I ran my fingers over Zeke’s cheek, wiping away his tears. “Hey, Doc. I got that second opinion you wanted?” I watched as he closed his eyes and rested his cheek in the palm of my hand. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to control his emotions. I waited until he opened his eyes, still shimmering with his love. “Oh yeah. What’s that opinion?” Laughing through tears, I grinned. “We are so fucked.” Zeke smiled down at me and joined in my laughter. “Mmmm, yeah, you’re gonna be that way for the next fifty to sixty years,” he said as he collapsed down on me. Our laughter continued even as we found release in each other. Even slumber couldn’t erase my smile. *** They both awoke to someone banging and shouting to open the door. Zeke was pushed out of bed by a very sleepy Jonica, telling him to answer the door before Rachel woke up the whole damn neighborhood. Sleep still clouding his mind, he couldn’t find his pants, so he opened the door naked. He wasn’t ashamed of his body and was pretty sure

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Rachel would look the other way. Boy was he wrong. Not only did she stare at him when he opened the door, but now Rob, who stood beside her, was mad as hell. Jonica must have realized the error of her command, because she slipped and tripped her way down the hall, a sheet haphazardly wrapped around her body. “RACHEL, you’d better not be staring. Bitch, I’ll tell you what, you’d better close your damn eyes before I knock them outta your head.” Jonica would have come completely into the living room, but a stern look from Zeke brought her up short. Sure he was naked, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Rob see Jonica that way. “First of all, I am four foot four, and his...his…it’s right there, Jonica. Boy is it right there. How am I not supposed to see it?” “Can’t you go put some clothes on?” Rob growled at Zeke before slamming his large hand over Rachel’s eyes. Zeke was struggling not to laugh until Rachel said something about wanting to shake his hand but grabbing his “friend” on accident. That comment caused Jonica to growl and Rob to nearly implode with anger. Zeke shrugged and headed down the hall, leaving Rachel and Rob standing in the living room. Gathering Jonica in his arms, he kissed her long and

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deep. Not caring that they had an audience, he reassured both Jonica and the onlookers that she was his woman. He only stopped kissing Jonica when he heard Rachel’s indignant voice ask Rob, “HEY, how come I can’t look at the new man, but you can practically see everything Jonica has? I saw that skimpy little towel she has on.” Jonica chose that moment to step back and drop said towel before balling it up, throwing it over Zeke’s shoulder and causing it to land on Rachel’s head. “EWWWWWWWWWWW, that better not be covered in my future nieces and nephews,” Rachel groused as Rob tossed her over his shoulder and headed for the door. “Meet us at Tex’s for drinks, Jonica. We’ll talk then,” Rob said on his way out the door, a giggling Rachel pounding furiously at his back in mock anger. “Zeke,” he added simply before nodding slightly and continuing out the door and down the walk. Zeke slammed the door and locked it. “What the hell do you think you were doing opening the door naked? Rachel is eye level with your dick, Zeke. Rule number one. NO naked conversations with my sister,” Jonica huffed, hands placed on her generous hips. “One,” Zeke counted.

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“One what, motherfucker?” Jonica asked, her face still pulled in anger. “Five second head start. You’d better take it because when I catch you, YOU’RE FUCKED.” Jonica’s eyes grew big a nanosecond before she turned on her heel. She didn’t get a foot away before Zeke spoke again. “Five!” “Wait, wait…you cheated!” she screamed as she ran back down the hall. “Yeah. Like I told you,” Zeke’s deep voice followed her, “you’re fucked.” *** Zeke and Jonica had met Rachel and Rob at the girls’ favorite bar. He’d gotten to see one of his favorite sides of Jonica again: her eating habits. She’d inhaled an order of fried mushrooms and one of the messiest chili cheeseburgers he’d ever seen. It came served open faced and smothered in cheese and onions on a plate nearly as big as the table they’d been sitting at. He had heartburn just thinking about it. There was no way he’d enjoyed his plan ole cheeseburger anywhere near as much as Jonica enjoyed her “Longhorn.” She’d offered him a bite, and when he’d refused she’d tucked in as if she was afraid he’d

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suddenly change his mind. He’d asked before they ordered if they should wait on their guests, and the look Jonica sent him was scathing. “Rachel would be late for her own funeral. And her and Rob are probably still screwing.” She’d shrugged. Zeke made a mental note then; Jonica did not wait on anything or anyone to eat. He could have sworn he heard her mumble the word “grace” just before she tucked in. He’d like to say they spent a wonderful evening with friends, but true to Jonica’s word Rachel and Rob were over an hour late. And upon their arrival, Rachel discovered the ring Zeke had put on Jonica’s finger. Rachel promptly crawled into his lap with Jonica, and the two made themselves at home planning not only a wedding , but the honeymoon and a post-honeymoon double vacation. The two women must have forgotten any disagreement they’d been having. Hell, the might have forgotten that both he and Rob existed. They didn’t break their conversation when Rob removed Rachel from Zeke’s lap. Nor when both men rose, arms laden with buzzing females, and made their way out of the bar. They’d simply fished out their phones and called each other. Zeke had to listen to the chatting all the way from the bar to Jonica’s, where he’d retrieved her dog and his favorite toy. And then all the way from

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Jonica’s house to his, where once inside, he’d unceremoniously dumped his fiancée in the center of his big bed. He was still standing over her with Claymore at his side, staring in awe at the complete shift from badass to dainty diva. Every since she’d flashed her ring at Rachel in the bar, the two best friends had been chatting a mile a minute. Zeke could hardly keep up. Especially with them switching back and forth between English and Spanish. Glancing down at the big dog, he asked, “Are they always like that?” When Claymore let out a huge yawn and settled down on his haunches as if to say you better just get used to it, Zeke nearly lost it. Leaning over the bed, he kissed Jonica deeply. It only took a few seconds before she relaxed all the way into the pillows and let the phone slide from her face to the bed. Seizing the opportunity, he snagged her phone and with a final, lingering peck rose from the bed. He was just about to inform Rachel that she and Jonica were going to need to finish their chat over lunch the next day when he heard Rob’s deep voice rumble in his ear. “Damn, do you two ever even breathe? I haven’t heard that much chatting since you fired all those gaggle-head sorority girls.”

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Zeke couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently he and Rob were more alike than he’d first thought. It would be good to have the man on his side. They were going to need all the help they could get romancing these two feisty women. *** I watched in curiosity as Zeke spoke into my phone. I guessed Rob had somehow pried Rachel’s phone away from her, and he and Zeke were making plans for us to meet the next day for lunch. The thought of a double date brought a smile to my face. I glanced down at the huge diamond on my finger. I am getting married. I’M GETTING MARRIED. I let myself fall back on the pillows in glee. But my celebration was short lived due to what I heard next. “No, I don’t think I could flush it down the toilet—it’s kinda big.” Flush what down the toilet? Here I am all happy, and these two yahoos are talking about plumbing! Hmph! I was just about to ask what was going on when I sat up and noticed Zeke shrugging out of his buttondown shirt. Truthfully, he’d looked damn good tonight

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in that light blue shirt and his dark washed jeans. DAMN GOOD. But the sight of him in nothing but those jeans was doing things to my insides. I licked my lips and watched as he tossed his wallet, watch, keys and some loose change on to the dresser. He needed to get off that phone and fuck me now, or I was going to do it myself. Just then Zeke turned to me, and I noticed his pants were undone and clinging solely to his slim hips and tight ass. He caught me staring, and something yummy and dangerous flashed in his eyes. I didn’t catch what he was saying to Rob on the phone. I was too busy thinking about those lips moving against my pussy earlier. Oh yeah, baby, enunciate those words. Look at your mouth. I could ride your face forever…. I was so turned on that I sat up and whipped my shirt over my head. As soon as my shirt was off and my hair pushed out of my eyes, I saw…Zeke hurling my phone down the hall and Claymore giving full chase. *** “MY PHONE!” Jonica was screaming at Zeke at the top of her lungs. Something about ass kickings and vet bills if Claymore got sick.

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Whatever. He was sure the dog wouldn’t actually eat the phone, but that was the last thing on his mind. Jonica was pissed, and with her ranting and raving, her chest was heaving. OH was her chest heaving. Zeke knew he should make some sound of acknowledgement, maybe even remorse, but he just couldn’t muster any. The only sound in the room was the startled yelp from Jonica as he tackled her and brought her under him on the large bed. “Yada yada, you’ve talked long enough. I’ll get you a new one and take Claymore to the vet for some dog laxatives tomorrow.” Jonica giggled as Zeke nibbled on her neck. “Oh yeah? You think kissing me and making me all hot and stuff is gonna make me forget, but you owe me a phone. And I am not picking up regurgitated electronics in the morning.” “Mmm-hmmmm,” Zeke muttered, making it obvious he wasn’t listening. “Fuck you.” Jonica smacked him on his shoulders, attempting to push him away. “About time,” he grumbled as he pushed her skirt up and sank home. There was no more talking for a long time, unless you count the people Claymore called as he merrily gnawed away on Jonica’s phone.

Part 2: Crack the Whip Rachel sat at her desk and looked out the window, watching as Robert came inside the leasing office. He walked past the desks, nodding at her as he made his way to the back. That was all he did—nod. He’d been with the apartment complex for almost two months, and he had yet to say one word to her. It wasn’t for lack of trying on her part. She said hello, good morning, good evening, goodbye, and everything in between. Yet he said nothing in return. She didn’t get it. Rachel guessed she should be happy he acknowledged her existence, but she wasn’t—she wanted more. She was a friendly person whom everyone liked. She wasn’t conceited, but come on, what was not to like? She was cute, sexy, and cheerful. A real life Mary-fucking-sunshine. Hell, she wanted her damn self. Rachel had always been popular and surrounded by lots of friends, the same ones who’d voted her most popular girl in school. She was one of those people who made friends wherever she went. Fuck that—she was best friends with Jonica. Couldn’t anybody claim that. Jonica was the Everest of best frienddom. Oh, she was cordial. Her favorite saying was, “I can be civil to a dog.” But don’t let that fool you. Jonica didn’t have friends—well, except for Rachel—she just knew people. She was like that joke about the guy everyone

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knows, only backwards. Jonica knew everyone, and if she didn’t know you, she knew all about you. And Rachel got past her. She was Jonica’s BEST FRIEND. Rachel ate at her house. Top that, Jonica cooked for her. That was Rachel’s ticket into heaven—she’d befriended Jonica. She could see herself waiting at the pearly gates, talking with Saint Peter: “Yeah, but I’m Jonica’s best friend!” “Oh really, you’re that Rachel? Well, come right on in.” Yet Mr. Tall-and-Silent couldn’t be bothered to say one damn word to her. All he did was nod or grunt. Who the hell grunted? But Rachel was going to get him to speak to her. Even if all he did was grunt her name as she rode him the way she did Ribeye, the mechanical bull at the bar where she and Jonica hung out. Getting up from her desk, she followed him to the back. He was alone in the employees’ break room. Perfect. Looking around to make sure no one else was around, Rachel pulled her scooped blouse a little lower, showing off an amazing view of her cleavage. The sight usually rendered men speechless, but maybe it would have the opposite effect on him and actually motivate him to speak. They were a great asset to have, and she was very blessed indeed.

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“Morning, sugar,” she purred. Rachel called him everything but his real name, which she only knew because she’d read it in his employee file, to try to get a rise from him. If he couldn’t be bothered to tell her his real name, she wasn’t going to use it. Childish? Hell yes, but it was the principal of the thing. “Bitch, cover that shit up. This isn’t your damn house.” Glaring at Jonica as she made her way into the lounge, interrupting her seduction, Rachel flipped her the bird. Then Rachel shimmied her pencil skirt a little higher and posed in her red stilettos. She was curvy, not tall, so she always needed the extra height. Unlike Jolly Green Jonica, Rachel missed her chance in the vertical line. Speaking of which, why the hell was Jonica talking to her man, eh, mark anyway? Squinting her eyes, Rachel stared at them in amazement. They were communicating—no words, but communicating nonetheless. Jonica was growling and Robert was grunting, both seeming to understand each other. He moved over so Jonica could reach the coffeepot. What the fuck was that all about? He doesn’t respond to plain English, but Jonica can bumbrush her way to the coffee and he acknowledges that? Oh, hell nawl. Rachel was not trying to compete with her girl Jonica, but she was not chopped liver.

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Clearing her throat, Rachel made sure tall, dark, and surly noticed her. When they both turned from their worshiping of the coffeepot, Rachel pasted on a megawatt smile and made her way over to the counter. “Did y’all leave any for the rest of us?” Rachel asked in his direction. The man didn’t even blink. As she poured herself a cup, Rachel stood as close to him as possible, so that he had a clear line of sight down her shirt. “I had those beans ground at that new coffee bar down the block. Do you like them?” Rachel was so not talking about the damn coffee beans. Taking a deep breath, she held it, forcing her glorious rack even further up. What did she get for her little experiment in self-asphyxiation? NADA. ZILCH. NOT A GHAT DAMN THING. That hard hunk of hotness blinked at her with no reaction; his dark blue eyes were so blank, Rachel wondered if the boy was special. As in on the short bus. He nodded his head at Jonica and tipped his paper cup at Rachel in a small salute before sucking his breath in and skittering around her. His arm grazed across her nipples, almost sending her off like a bottle rocket. Rachel held her breath until he was out the door. She watched him walk away, her brow furrowed. Damn, that tool belt was sexy as hell slung low on his hips.

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“Bitch, you’re pathetic. Why are you tormenting that poor man? Better yet, why are you tormenting me, tiptoeing around like Peg Bundy?” Jonica’s gruff laughter brought her out of her daze. “I don’t get it, Nica. Why won’t he talk to me?” Rachel pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hey, hey, don’t be pushing them things up at me. I’m not Rob.” Wait a min. Did she just call him Rob? “Did you just call him Rob? How do you get to call him Rob?” “He told me to.” Jonica shrugged her shoulders before taking a long sip of her coffee. The laughter in her eyes gleamed evilly behind the rim of her mug. Da hell?! How did she get to be the one who heard his voice? Rachel wanted to grill her. Was it melodic and smooth, or was it deep and gruff? Did he have a mysterious accent? Did he speak so softly it was like a whisper on a breeze? She had questions, damn it, and Jonica was casually strolling back to her office with a donut clamped between her lips and a cup of coffee in hand. “Hey Rachel, maybe if you learned to walk he’d talk to you. Watch the master,” she tossed over her shoulder before stuffing the donut back in her mouth. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her head, she took off in a stroll that made Rachel’s mouth drop open.

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The bounce and sway of her trunk made Rachel almost question her sexuality. There was a rhythm to it. A swagger. Rachel was very impressed. “Bitch,” Rachel called at her. “Yo daddy,” she sing-songed back. Going back to her desk, she answered her phone. “This is Rachel, how may I help you?” “Well, don’t you sound so professional,” a teasing voice answered her. “Mami, how are you doing?” “Going to be better as soon I get back home. Jonica busy?” “You know she is always available to you. Hold on, let me transfer you.” Rachel transferred her after a quick byplay with Jonica. Something wasn’t right. Mami had said ‘when she got back home,’ and that set off alarm bells for Rachel. Making her way to Jonica’s office, she stopped outside the door, hearing Jonica’s raised voice. Shit, this wasn’t good. Opening the door, she made her way inside to see an agitated Jonica trying to gather her stuff. This was definitely not good. Something was wrong. Rachel waited patiently for Jonica to finish and almost lost her eardrums when Jonica screamed for her at the top of her lungs. And then almost got trampled as Jonica flew by her. Rachel barely made out that Mami was in the hospital across the street and

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that Jonica was planning on walking. Even so, it was lunch, not to mention hot as hell. Rachel went to her desk, grabbed her purse and started up her car. It would be faster, not to mention she could find out why Mami was in the hospital. *** Fuming, Rachel drove back to the office. That ungrateful little bitch. All she got for her troubles was getting the passenger door kicked. If Jonica scratched up her paint job, Rachel was going to kill her! No jury would convict her of murder once they saw what her poor little baby had suffered. Parking the car, Rachel quickly ran around to inspect the damage to the door. Kneeling on the floor, she carefully checked to make sure that Jonica didn’t damage it. There was a scratch and a small dent! Oh, Jonica was going to pay to have it taken care of! Rachel was very particular about her baby. She could still remember when she brought her home and Jonica first saw it. “What the hell is this, Rachel? Did you pass the circus and see a for sale sign on the clown car?” “No chinges, Jonica. I think it’s perfect, suits me just fine. I can’t get a truck like yours. I would need damn seat cushions to see over the freaking steering wheel.”

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“For real, Rach. How the hell am I supposed to get in here?” “That sounds like a personal problem, Jonnie.” Yeah, Jonica never did like her car. She was forever threatening to run it over with her big-ass truck. And Rachel always threatened her with bodily harm. She was short but deadly. She was also the coordinator of the leasing office. As the lead leasing agent, it was her job to know what apartments were available and fill them with residents. She also planned all the social activities and parties for the community, while Jonica did all the paperwork. They’d both be out of a job if Jonica had to deal with people all the time. Jonica was loveable—it was just that she didn’t have time for people who didn’t pay their rent on time, complaining of this that or the other, little kids flushing things down the toilet now their bathroom is overflowing. She didn’t play around. Hell, she was fluent in four languages and could say “additional charges” in fifteen! Rachel was the diplomat of the duo. Everyone liked her. Wait, scratch that—everyone except Rob. But she was wearing him down. Yes she was. Walking into the office, Rachel quickly picked up where she’d left off before she dropped Jonica off at the hospital, and she was kept busy for the rest of the afternoon. Rachel knew how important some of the

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files Jonica had been working on were. Like Jonica, she also knew those files didn’t matter a damn when it came to Mami being sick. She was quick to delegate some of the work to the agents working under her, clocking both herself and Jonica out and returning to the hospital to wait with her best friend. As she parked the large SUV in the visitor lot, she thought about Jonica kicking her car door shut. She made sure the driver’s seat was as far forward as it would go, the mirrors at odd angles and the stereo turned all the way up on some bluegrass country satellite station before locking the doors and setting the alarm. “Kicking my poor car, just cuz she ain’t getting laid on the regular. HMMMPH, bet she’ll think about that when she gets her tits stuck in the wheel.” Rachel merrily made her way into the hospital, thoughts of Rob lingering with her joy at pulling a prank on her best friend and her nervousness for the woman who’d become her second mom. After visiting with Mami and making sure she was well taken care of, Rachel went home to start her weekend. Saturday was spent shopping and running errands. As well as talking to Jonica several times, getting regular updates on Mami’s health. Sunday was Rachel’s favorite day. It was the only day she got to sleep in and laze around the house. Sundays were all for her to do whatever she wanted.

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That usually meant staying in her pajamas all day long and parking herself in front of the TV, watching all her shows on the DVR or reading the tons of books on her to-read pile. Today was no different. After eating some cereal she started watching her shows when the phone rang, interrupting a serious scene. “I’m still mad at you,” Rachel said into the phone, automatically knowing it was Jonica. “Come on, Rachel, it was a teeny-tiny scratch. There was no real big damage. Plus, I’m the one who needs Beltones now. I should sue you for the damage you caused to my eardrums.” “Nope, I don’t care. Besides, you started it.” Rachel knew she was being sensitive, but she was anal about her car. She always kept it polished, shiny, and detailed. Just like her house. Rachel’s little intricacies drove Jonica crazy, especially at the office, which was why they lived in separate houses. They were best friends, but they couldn’t live under the same roof. Rachel and Jonica carried on their normal banter for a while before the sound of nurses entering the hospital room alerted them to the time. “Listen, girl, they’re back to talk to Mom again. I’ll call you later tonight when I get home again, okay?” “Okay, sweetie. Keep me posted and hey, I love you—you know that, right?”

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“Aww, shit, Rach. Mami ain’t dead, and I am not going without you, ho. Cut all that mushy shit out.” Rachel and Jonica shared another laugh. “Hey Rach, I love you too.” Rachel sat staring at the phone. A slight sheen of tears glistened on her lashes. Jonica didn’t always say it, but she knew her girl loved her. Now if she could just find a man to love her too. Rachel took a moment to herself and said a quick prayer of thanks before going back to her shows. Monday morning sneaked up on her. Adjusting her makeup, she walked back to her desk just in time to see the object of her lust in the break room and her favorite flirt buddy walking through the door. An idea was born in that moment. Much like a light bulb, a smile lit Rachel’s face. Ben Wakefield had been delivering packages for the past three years and was a big flirt. Rachel loved their banter. Ben was funny as hell and a great sport. “Hey baby, missed you last week. My day isn’t the same unless I get my daily dose of sexy,” Rachel teased as she walked over to him to sign for the packages. “Oh, so I’m sexy again? I’ve been here three times last week, and you’ve been so busy batting them doe eyes at tall and ugly over there, you couldn’t even sign your own name,” Ben whispered conspiratorially

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to her. “Why, Ben Wakefield! You know you’re my numero uno. My first, my last, my…and he is not ugly. Don’t be jealous, baby; there is room enough for the both of you.” “Girl, where is Jonica? You’re laying it on real thick, and I do not hear her shouting out for you to hush yet.” “In the break room. Mami is still in the hospital, so if you want to talk to her you’d better hurry. Hey, you know you should go by and see her later. She could use a hunky man like you to speed her recovery.” “Speed her recovery? No thank you! Jonica’s mom is always pinching my ass when she’s here. I’ll send her some flowers, but I am not about to be locked in a little room with that woman. She would take serious advantage of my delicate nature.” “You do have such a nice ass, Ben—you should be honored. You don’t even want to know what she did to the guy before you. Well, since you’re here, how about you say something real sweet and make me feel better?” “Make you feel better? You’re the one who’s been ignoring me!” Ben pouted but sent her a sly wink. Laughing, she looked up to see Ben staring over her shoulder. Turning, Rob was staring intently at them. Rachel hoped Rob realized that her exchange

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with Ben was harmless and that she didn’t want Ben the way she wanted him. Looking back at Ben, Rachel gave him back his computer pad. “Here you go, baby, all done.” Ben didn’t take it. Instead, his eyes were locked with Rob’s. A little miffed, Rachel looked over her shoulder in search of Rob but saw him go back to the staff lounge. She thought about going to track him down and ask him what his problem was, but was distracted by Ben’s next comment. “That man wants you, Rachel.” “Who? Because I know for a fact that Rob doesn’t. He won’t even bring himself to talk to me, much less be in the same room with me.” “That man wants you plain and simple. And that look he just gave was to warn me off.” “The hell it was.” But as she watched Ben leave, his words played around in her head. Could it really be that he wanted her? Not yet, but he would. Nobody had ever said no to her. It was just a matter of time. Going back to work, Rachel put both Rob and Ben out of her mind. ***

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Rob wanted nothing more than to smash his fist through the delivery man’s face. On his way to the break room, he had heard Rachel and the guy, Ben, flirting, getting too close for comfort. He knew Rachel had been trying her damnedest to get his attention. At first he had stayed away from her because she was his boss, but later he’d enjoyed her flirtatious attempts to get him to notice her. Call him whatever you want, he was honored she was paying so much attention to him, the maintenance man. Though he was so much more. Needing a break from the restrictive restraints of his college obligations, he’d seen the job announcement for the maintenance position while reading through the paper. At the time, he was a visiting professor in the English department at Texas Tech. Rob had accepted the year-long invitation, hoping to get re-energized to finish writing his latest book. But the pressure to finish had scared his muse away. After his position expired, instead of going back to his job in West Virginia, he applied for and was hired on as the maintenance man for the apartment complex. Several of the college students living there recognized him and were constantly asking him to read something for them. The only person in the office who knew about his double life was Jonica, the person who’d interviewed

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and hired him on. She’d seen right through him and confronted him, forcing him to tell her the truth. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but you can drop the act and sorry excuse for an accent you picked up.” “Accent?” he’d asked. Nobody had known his usual proper English hid a heavy country accent and a stuttering problem he had managed to control after years of teasing and taunting. “Yeah, accent. I can’t believe nobody has called you out on it until now. And you can drop the blue collar worker act too. I know you have a Ph.D. in English, and you’re a visiting professor at Tech.” Rob could only shake his head at the spirited woman. He wasn’t all that certain he wanted to know how she had figured all that out. “Fair enough,” he responded in his native deep southern drawl. “I don’t know if I should be worried that you know all this about me.” “Nope, it’s my job to check everyone out thoroughly. I run intensive background checks on everyone. Plus I am nosy as hell. Add to that, my girl can’t keep her panties dry every time you’re around. Yeah, I know all about you, boy. I should also tell you that I only know one way to kill a man. And that’s till he’s dead. Understand?”

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Rob learned then and there to answer Jonica quickly and succinctly. She didn’t care for long, drawn-out conversations, and if you earned her smile, you’d better treasure it as well as take it as a warning. Although Jonica had mentioned Rachel, nothing could prepare him for her. The woman was everything every schoolboy ever dreamed of. And some things they didn’t have the brain power to imagine. Dressed in a sexy fitted skirt and buttoned-up shirt, she was the sexiest woman he had ever seen. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the sight of her, so he was unable to talk to her when they were introduced. Rob was so shaken every time he saw her, he was afraid that he would sound like the stuttering hillbilly people accused him of being. It didn’t help that Jonica would shoot him daggers and laugh. So instead of being friendly, he opted for silence. But his patience was running out, especially after seeing Rachel flirting with Ben. Going into the break room, he found Jonica by the fridge. “What’s up with you?” she asked as soon as she saw his face. “Nothing.” “You know better than to give me that bullshit, Rob.” “Ben was just here.”

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“Oh, so you finally saw their flirting. I already told them to take that shit outside or to a backroom. It’s not professional, talking like that in front of the residents. So, you like our little Rachel? I knew you did. Why didn’t you say something? You know she has the hots for you, right? Why haven’t you taken what she’s offering?” Jonica rapidly fired the series of questions at him. “Yes, I want her, but where I’m from, it’s the man who does the chasing. And if I ever find her with Ben in a backroom somewhere, there is going to be hell to pay.” “Well, then why don’t you do something about it?” Rob didn’t say anything; he just grabbed the bottled water and walked away, Jonica’s warning following him out. “You’d better do something before she finds somebody else.” Like hell she was. He may be nothing more than a maintenance man, or rather English professor, but she was his, and it was time for Rachel to get what she wanted: all six foot three, two hundred twenty-five pounds of possessive, dominant male. Rob turned around and walked back to Jonica. “I’ll do something about it when you stop running from that doctor. Yeah, I noticed you playing cat and

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mouse. Why else would you have me start coming to the hospital to bring you files or call me and have the phone on speaker? I may be from the country, little girl, but I am not stupid. You got an itch too. Why don’t you get it scratched?” Rob watched as color stained Jonica’s cheeks. He thought for a moment he’d gone too far. Then she lifted her head, and he saw determination and resolution in her eyes. “Deal, hillbilly. I go let the good doctor figure out what ails me, and you go screw the lungs out of Rachel.” Rob hesitated a moment before shaking Jonica’s offered hand. He should have been ready for her to clamp down on his fingers like a vice as she added, “and remember, fuck it up and hurt her, and I will kill you dead.” “Yeah, well, you tell that doctor if he don’t do you right, I’ll make him a permanent patient of the hospital.” *** Rachel had had enough. She was tired of throwing herself at him only to be rebuffed again and again. So she decided to ignore the stubborn man and move on. Work kept her busy—the new school year

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was starting soon, so that meant new college kids moving in. The beginning of the semester was always the most stressful time, because these spoiled little brats thought they could get away with anything. They soon found out otherwise. Usually Jonica handled them, but since she was busy making sure her mom was settled and had the new man in her life, Rachel had to use her tough, take-no-shit persona that people obeyed. Not even a week after moving in, she had had to warn four different residents about their loud and obnoxious behavior. So she was in no mood when one of their newest residents came in to complain about the water pressure in his unit. “Like the announcement said, we are working on the problem as fast as we can, but there is only so much we can do. We are waiting for the water department to fix a water main pipe in the area.” They were standing next to her desk as she explained the situation to him again. He had called earlier and was told the same thing. Today was one of those days when she wished Jonica was back in the front office. People didn’t test Jonica, and subsequently, they didn’t test her for fear that Jonica was somewhere nearby with a “listen motherfucker” perched on the tip of her tongue.

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“Well, then why don’t you show me your shower, and we can wash each other’s backs?” the little cretin asked, invading her space, his hand reaching for her ass. He didn’t stand a chance. Taking his wrist in her hands, she twisted it, almost breaking it, as he howled in pain. “You bitch, you broke my fucking wrist. I am going to sue,” he threatened. Rachel just applied more pressure, bringing him down to his knees. “You even think about touching me again, and a broken wrist is going to be the last of your concerns. Get out.” She released his wrist and stepped back, watching as he continued to scream about his broken wrist. The office erupted in applause. It was a good thing they were in the office—the security cameras had caught everything. So when the idiot’s lawyer called her later that afternoon to let her know his client was pressing charges, Rachel hand-delivered a copy of the videotape. She was informed then and there that they were not going to pursue the charges. Going back to the office, she finished up some paperwork in a rotten mood. Everyone left her alone. The only person brave enough to approach her was out of the office. So everyone tiptoed around her, taking all phone calls and walk-ins.

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It was late when Rachel finally left for the night. She noticed Jonica’s truck was parked nearby. Rachel thought that was odd, since her friend hadn’t come into the office. Walking towards her truck, she took out her phone and dialed Jonica’s cell. It went straight to voicemail. Rachel started to leave a message but stopped mid-word when she saw Jonica coming out of Rob’s apartment. Yeah, Rachel might have said she was moving on, but seeing her best friend—hell, sister—coming out of the apartment of the man she had been lusting over for the past couple of weeks sent Rachel into an angry red haze. “You have ten seconds to tell me why the hell you are coming out of Rob’s apartment this late. Is he the new mystery man you’ve been seeing? Is he?!” “You’d better back up right now, Rachel. You know I would never do anything like that to you.” “So then what the fuck are you doing in his apartment?” Hands on her hips, she was shooting daggers at Jonica. Rachel knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t think straight. “Bitch, don’t you dare take that tone with me. I was coming into the office, after finding out you were almost assaulted, when I ran into Rob. He needed someone smaller than him to squeeze in to fix his toilet, hence me wearing my belt.” Rachel looked down and saw the purple tool belt riding low on

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Jonica’s hips. “But since you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask him?” was all the warning Rachel got before Jonica grabbed her arm and pushed her into Rob’s apartment. “Rob, you’d better fuck her brains out before I beat them in. You’d better set her straight. And then I want you both to be in my office tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp for apologies.” Rachel caught her balance, hearing her friend slam the door behind her. Looking up, she saw Rob was sitting at a baby grand piano, his hands hovering over the keys, staring at her. “I, uhm—” Rachel was at a loss for words. “Jonica was in here to help fix my toilet. I was just coming back from the hardware store when I ran into her. She offered to help me.” His voice was deep and sexy. Thick and slow like molasses. It washed over her like a blast of warm air and tingled all the parts of her that came from having two x’s. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back, the mini-gasms that danced along her nerves tormenting her and stoking her fire. For a moment she forgot to be pissed. And that pissed her off even more. “I can’t believe the first words you speak to me are to tell me that Jonica was helping you fix your damn toilet.” Rachel directed her anger at him. She had made a fool of herself, thinking Jonica would ever

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hurt her that way. And the way Rachel saw it, it was all his fault. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a way to apologize to my sister and not get killed in the process.” Rachel turned to leave, knowing she would have to beg and plead for Jonica to forgive her. How could she have been so stupid? She was so busy castrating herself that she didn’t hear Rob get up, quickly closing the distance between them, and stop her from leaving, pushing the door closed with the palm of his hand, blocking her grand exit. “You are not going anywhere, Rachel. Do you know how long I’ve wanted you in here?” Rachel couldn’t stop the shiver that went through her body. “How could I? Up until now, you have never spoken a word to me, remember?” “I apologize for that, honey, but that was all your fault.” Rachel turned to face him, exploding in anger. “My fault? All of this was my fault? Do you know I just made a big fucking mistake, thinking Jonica would go behind my back and go after the man I wanted? I am going to have to get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness for the next fucking year.” With each word out of her mouth, Rachel poked his chest with her index finger, pushing him further and further back into his apartment until the backs of his

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knees hit the piano bench. Sitting down, Rachel loomed lividly over him, one hand on the top of the piano for support, the other hand still poking a hole through his chest. “And you have the fucking nerve to say that this was my fault? No, motherfucker, it ain’t. If you just had the common fucking decency to talk to me, to tell me ‘hey, I am not interested’ or whatever, I wouldn’t have wasted my time humiliating myself and then thinking the worst about my sister. So fuck you!” Done with her rant, she turned to leave, again. Again in quick strides he was by her side, turning her to face him. “You’ve had your say, so now it’s my turn,” he growled out, not unaware he had let his natural accent take over. It seemed to lend a new power, a new dimension to his command. He’d always seemed to hold himself in check with women, but Rachel, with her sassy mouth and endless flirting, was sawing away at the tethered beast. “It is your fault, because since the first time I saw you dressed in that tight pencil skirt you love to tease me with, I have wanted nothing more than to order you to my bed.” He paused at her sharp intake of breath. “That’s right, Rachel—I said ordered. I don’t play at being dominant or possessive like other men do. I am. So you’d better decide now whether that’s something you want, because I am

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about two seconds from ordering you into my bed after I strip you naked.” Those were the very words Rachel had wanted to hear since she’d first laid eyes on him. But now they were coming a little too late. Rachel needed to get to Jonica and apologize. Looking him straight on, she straightened to her full height. “I need to talk to Jonica, so let me out.” She was proud of how strong her voice sounded. But his next words shattered her self-control. “No, honey, you are not going anywhere tonight. I plan to fuck your brains out just as Jonica’s been daring me to. Just like my body has been telling me I should. God in heaven only knows why I’ve been waiting, but damn it all, you are mine now. And I will not stop until my dick breaks off in your body. We will apologize tomorrow morning if we are alive, but tonight is for us. Tonight I am going to finally find out what you taste like. What color your nipples are. See that full ass naked, across my lap, ready to be spanked. Tonight, Rachel, I intend to have you. Over and over again.” His whispered words held her captive, and the lick of his thick tongue against the shell of her ear damn near made her tie herself up and beg for him to ravage her. Her panties were damp when she thought

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of him, drenched when he spoke and flooded before the last syllable left is lips. “Turn around, Rachel.” She couldn’t ignore the steel command behind those three words. Unable to resist, Rachel turned, slowly raising her head to meet his. Backing up to the door for support, Rachel saw the raw, naked desire in his green eyes, mirroring her own. “Drop your purse on the ground and unbutton your shirt.” “It’s a five hundred dollar purse. How clean are your floors?” Where that question came from, Rachel had no idea, but it gave her time to regroup. She wasn’t going to make it that easy for him, no matter how much of a wicked picture his words promised. Not after he’d ignored her and made her question Jonica. Chica, you can repeat that all you want, but the reason you are resisting is because you want to feel the flat of his hand on your ass, her inner freak taunted. “Drop the purse,” Rob repeated again. Rachel’s hand opened, the purse falling with a loud plop. ***

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It was all Rob could do to keep the stern look on his face and not crack the smile that was threatening to surface at her resistance. His dick was throbbing inside his jeans, wanting to come out and make itself known as he watched her small manicured fingers begin to undo the buttons on her shirt. With every piece of skin revealed, his hands itched to feel her softness. Everywhere. Finally all the buttons were undone, the sides gaping open, exposing a white bra. He would leave her like that for now. “Now take off the skirt.” She immediately followed his directive, his heart almost stopping as she shimmied out of the damn tight-fitting thing. Now it was him having trouble breathing, watching as she kicked the material out of the way. Rob had to summon his soon-to-be-shot-tohell patience seeing Rachel standing in black heels and a matching white panty and bra set, with her shirt hanging open. Wet dream come to life. Reaching out, he caressed the exposed skin of her belly with his hand. She trembled as his hand made its way up, pushing the material of the shirt first off one shoulder, then the other. “You look so sexy standing there in heels and this soft lacy underwear. How do you feel, Rachel?”

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“Excited,” she breathed out. Rob’s hand slipped inside the cup of her bra, taking her taut nipple between his fingers, pinching slightly. “Hmmm….does that mean you’re wet for me?” At her nod, he added, “Let me see how much.” His other hand found its way inside her soaking wet panties. Rob kept his eyes trained on hers, wanting to catch every single response and emotion running across her features. He not only wanted to hear, but needed to see how much Rachel wanted him. His composure almost snapped when he felt just how wet she was. Rachel grabbed his arms for support as his index finger rubbed her clit. Taking his hand away from her plump breast, he ordered her to take off her shirt. “Take it off, Rachel, followed by your bra. I want you naked, baby.” Rachel was slow in obeying his commands. All he had done so far was ply her clit with some pressure, and she was ready to burst. Her quick response turned him on even more. Bracing his free hand on the door behind her, he leaned in and whispered near her ear, “Now the panties—pull them down and kick them out of the way.” All the while his fingers, now two of them, were

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buried deep in her pussy, as his thumb continued to play with her swollen little clit. “Rob, oh, right there. Harder, more, please,” she moaned, convulsing around his fingers. “Rachel, that will be the one and only time you come without my permission.” He waited until her screams of pleasure died down to issue his warning. She snapped her eyes open after hearing his words. “The hell I am. Just because you made me come with nothing more than your fingers doesn’t mean I have to obey you. I am still mad at you.” “Really, baby? Mad at me? Because my fingers are bathed with how mad you are at me.” She had the good grace to look sheepish. Removing his hand from between her legs, he pulled back, standing up to his full height. Rachel was standing in nothing more than her heels and a beautiful flush that spread across her whole body. *** Well shit, Rachel didn’t have a response for that. It had been so long since someone had made her come with just their fingers. Rob had no problem where others had failed.

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As she watched him stand up, she had to squeeze her thighs to try to stop the new moisture gathering there. It was not fair that she was naked and he was standing there fully clothed. His gaze took in every single inch of her not so perfect body, but no one would be able to tell by the look in his eyes. Rachel forgot about her not so perky breasts, not so flat belly, and fleshy thighs. Instead, she focused her attention on how she was going to survive the night, because Rob looked ready to fuck her all night long. But he was wearing too many damn clothes, and she needed to see him naked. She planned to fix that right now. “It’s your turn to strip now.” Reaching out to him, Rachel grabbed a fistful of shirt and started pulling it off. She didn’t get very far. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me, baby.” “So? I didn’t give you permission to touch me either, yet you did, and I enjoyed it very much. You will also enjoy me touching you very much.” Going for his zipper this time, Rachel got as far as pulling the zipper down before he stopped her again. She was mad now. “Why the fuck do you keep stopping me? Have you changed your mind? You don’t like what you see?” Rachel began to question what she had seen in his eyes. She couldn’t have been way off base, could she? Shit, what the hell—

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“I know you want that spanking as much as I want to give it to you, but if you ever question my desire for you again, or doubt yourself, you won’t be able to sit for at least a month.” Rachel could only stare openmouthed as his whole voice and demeanor changed. Gone was the dominant yet playful man who made her come from a few seconds ago. In his place stood the dominant who would discipline his woman not for pleasure, but to get his point across. “Do you understand, Rachel?” She lowered her eyes and whispered her answer. “Look at me when you answer me.” Raising her head, Rachel looked at him dead on. “Yes, I understand. I will never question you or me.” Rob nodded his head. “Now tell me what you want.” That was easy. “I want you, Rob—touching me, kissing me, loving me. Only you.” “Then go to my bed and wait for me. Turn down the sheets and lie down on your stomach.” Rachel immediately began walking down the hall on shaking knees. Halfway down the hall, she realized she didn’t know which of the three doors was his room. “Last door to the right,” he called out behind her. Rachel let out a sigh of relief and opened the door to his room. She saw the huge, sprawling bed

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dominating the room. By the time she lay down on the bed, she was close to coming against the cool sheets. Rachel remembered his warning and began reciting every single George Strait song she could think of. Rob watched Rachel walk out of the living room with no clue where his bedroom was, but knowing she had to obey him. He helped her out and let her know which door led to his bed. He needed a couple of minutes to regain his composure. Seeing her come apart in his hands had released the sleeping beast within him. Hearing her question his need for her had only served to piss him off. Standing with a raging hard-on nobody could miss, she’d had the nerve to ask if he had changed her mind. Rachel was lucky he was an understanding kind of guy, because his hand began twitching, waiting for the first smack to land on her upturned ass. But instead he decided to show her how much he wanted her. After she left his bed tomorrow morning, Rachel would never again question him or, most importantly, doubt her own bewitching self. Not wanting to give her more time to think, he began walking to his future. By the time he entered the room, Rob had removed his shirt and opened the front of his jeans. Pulling the jeans down along with his briefs, he stood naked, looking over at the tempting vision on his massive bed. Her eyes were

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trained on him, growing larger as he dropped his jeans. Walking over to the bed, he stopped at the edge of it. “What should I do first, do you think? Spank this gorgeous ass of yours?” He reached out and lightly touched said behind. “Or let you suck me off?” This time he took his dick in one of his hands and began pumping himself. The traitor jumped in his hand as he watched her drop her eyes to his groin and lick her lips in anticipation. “Maybe I will just jack off and leave you in a state of arousal all night as punishment.” “Rob, please, don’t leave me like this. Please, please,” she pleaded from the bed. He was happy she had not tried to get up or reach for him. That coupled with the longing in her voice sealed her fate. The fact that he would expire if he didn’t make her his overpowered everything else. He wanted to hear her screaming his name over and over again, all night long, for the rest of their lives. He wanted to brand her soul to his, spoiling her for any another man but him. Just because he was southern didn’t make him a gentleman. Not when it came to his woman. He continued the torture for just a few more minutes. “Hmmm, maybe I can be persuaded to make you mine tonight. You could rise up onto your knees, your ass up in the air, ready for me to take you from

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behind.” He watched as her hips began to rise. He couldn’t help himself; his palm landed on her cheek, her cry of surprise and pleasure filling the room. It felt so good he couldn’t help but do it again and then six more times before he spoke once more. “As much as I would love to take you this way, I think I want you flat on your back, your legs spread wide, waiting for me to sink into this sweet pussy,” his hand had cupped her from behind, “then wrapped around my waist, your heels digging into the small of my back as you move with me, against me, before exploding around me.” “Rob! Please stop talking and hurry the hell up. Please, I’m so close, so fucking close, I don’t think I can stop myself from coming all over your sheets. I need you inside me now!” she implored, turning over and spreading her legs just as he’d said, opening her arms to him. Well fuck, there was only so much a mortal man could take. Lunging onto the bed, he fell into her welcoming arms, taking her in a kiss meant to steal her breath, leaving them both mindless to everything but each other. As their tongues dueled, he settled himself between her lovely thighs and rubbed the head of his cock at her entrance, teasing them both. She broke the kiss.

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“Oh God, Rob, yes, please, oh….” Hearing her moan and whimper as she moved against him drove him to the brink of insanity. Reaching down between their bodies, he opened her up for his entry. In one hard push, every single inch of his member was seated to the hilt in her slick tightness. Rob couldn’t help but let out a growl of pleasure at how she fit him perfectly. “Wrap your legs around me, Rachel, and hold on.” Rob waited until she did as he asked before moving. Then he didn’t stop until Rachel had screamed herself hoarse, heels digging a hole into his lower back, hands clutching his back so hard they probably broke the skin. Then and only then did he allow her to come. “Do it now, Rachel—come for me now, sugar.” With her head thrown back, exposing the beautiful line of her neck, she arched into him and detonated in such a fiery explosion he was powerless to stop himself from coming with her. Roaring as he slid deep one last time, Rob emptied his seed inside her womb. Zapped of his energy, he fell beside her, trying to catch his breath. Rachel was not sure she would be able to go to work tomorrow. Nope, she couldn’t feel her lower limbs, and her heart was still racing inside her chest. Surely this was not something she could do over and over and not keel over from pleasure overload.

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Some time later, she was able to lift her head and turn to look at Rob, who looked to be asleep, his breathing like hers, finally back to normal. Sighing, she lay back down and closed her eyes and rested. A huge smile pasted on her face, she sent a telepathic fist bump to Jonica and mentally did her happy dance. She was going to rename herself Rachel, conqueror of Rob. She may be bowlegged and limp kneed, but he was asleep first. Round one: RACHEL. As she fell asleep, she thought about her bashful giant. He was silent and dominant. Dark and mysterious, but where it mattered, he was ALL MAN. A simple, soft-spoken man, who was freaking insatiable. She was awakened yet again for the third time that night to a screaming orgasm. Checking the ability to walk off her list of things possible for the next day, she flung her hand her sides and prayed that God let her live through the pleasure that was wracking her body. Some time later she almost wished she’d died, not because the loving wasn’t great, but because she now had to face Jonica. There would be no hiding in bed, because if they didn’t show up in Jonica’s office, Jonica would be busting down the door, not caring if they were clothed or not. Cuddling closer to him, Rachel closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep. If

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Jonica was going to kill her, at least she could die in the arms of the man she loved. “Honey, wake up,” came from somewhere above her head. Rachel ignored it as she lifted the blankets over her head. She was exhausted and nowhere near ready to wake up and get her tired body out of bed. “Leavemealone.” “Rachel, come on, honey, you have to get up. I have a bath ready for you.” “Go away,” she said more forcibly. She yelped as Rob pulled the covers off and lifted her out of the bed and over his shoulder. “Damn it to hell, Rob,” she yelled as he smacked her bottom. Rob remained silent as he carried her into the bathroom and then set her down. “In the tub, Rachel.” Narrowing her eyes at him, she stepped into the tub and sat down. The warm water felt so good she almost forgave his high-handedness. “Now aren’t you happy that I woke you up?” “Fuck you.” “You already did, honey, very thoroughly. Now scoot up.” Rachel did, and he fitted himself behind her, pulling her into him. Rachel closed her eyes and relaxed as Rob began to massage her scalp. “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Jonica?”

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Rachel groaned. “No, but it’s going to take lots of groveling. Lots and lots of groveling.” Rachel and Rob made their way to Jonica’s office in silence. Rob squeezed her hand as they got nearer. “I should probably go in there alone.” “Rachel, you heard Jonica—she wanted to see both of us. Now quit fretting. Everything will be okay.” Rachel knocked once before she opened the door to an empty office. The computer wasn’t even on, so she knew Jonica was not in yet. Going over to the desk, she called her cell phone. When it went straight to voicemail, she tried her house number. When that too went to voicemail, she called Mami’s house. “Hello,” Mami came on the phone. “Morning, Mami, how you feeling this morning?” “What you mean, how am I feeling? Girl, I feel like I just birthed an elephant. I haven’t wanted anything twixt my nethers in weeks. I am lonely. And then you go and piss Jonica off, and instead of spending a good night getting rubbed by my husband, I have to sit up and listen to her cussin’ and raving about you losing your mind and how you are getting laid like you just got off a plane in Hawaii. Why would she say some shit like that to me? I saw that cute bumpkin who came up here to talk to Jonica about

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you. Did he ride you bowlegged? Oh, here comes Pablo with my lunch—he has the highest roundest ass; I wonder if I can get him to wear some scrubs. We could make like I was still in the hospital and…never mind, you go make up with my baby, and then you can come tell me how good that boy does it. I saw him when he came to the hospital to check on Jonica. Bet he’d make a pair of scrubs look scrumptious. Anyway, you and my baby get it told and make up. Pablo is walking around here like I am glass—I may never get none again, so I’ll be living through the two of you. Oh, and if she breaks your neck, I am taking your man. He looks like he’d like to learn a little of what Mami can teach him, eh?” By the time she hung up, Rachel was ten shades of red, Rob laughing his ass off in the background. “Just wait until you meet Mami—you’re not going to be laughing then,” Rachel huffed out of the office. Rob drove his truck to Jonica’s house, since he refused to get into her car. Rachel didn’t argue the point because she didn’t think Rob would fit comfortably, and she didn’t want anything else to happen to her baby. By the time they reached Jonica’s house, Rachel was mad again. He didn’t need directions, and she was wanting to know why. Looking at him, arms

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crossed under her chest, she raised her brow at him. Not like the Rock, but close enough that Rob got the hint. “You are a jealous handful, you know that, Rachel?” he smirked as he got out and came around to her side. Pulling open the door, he turned her so he was fitted between her thighs. “Jonica asked me to bring her some files here to her house, and to the hospital. That’s why I know where she lives,” he explained against her lips. “Green looks beautiful on you, sugar, but you know you have nothing to worry about. Or do you need me to remind you that you belong to me?” Rachel pushed at his chest, not wanting to get carried away for anyone who happened to be walking by or spying out the windows to see. “You got it wrong, sugar—it’s you who belongs to me,” she sassed as she slipped down the truck. His laughter followed her all the way to the front door. He stopped smiling when a very naked, very tall mystery man opened the front door. Shit, Rachel herself almost swallowed her tongue after noticing just how, uhm, tall he was. Jonica threatened her from somewhere inside the hall. Rachel had to look around the tall naked man to search her friend out.

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“Cabrona, your eyes better not go any lower, or it’s the last thing you are going to see.” “Bitch, since it’s at eye level, I don’t see how you’re going to stop me. Hell, I don’t need to look any lower—it’s right damn there.” And it was true. Rachel didn’t really mean to check him out, but it couldn’t be helped. Well, until Rob made it to her side. He wasted no time putting one of his large paws over her eyes, blocking the view. “Aw, come on, Rob, I need to talk to Jonica and find out why she was holding out on me, not telling me Mr. Tall and Naked—” she objected, trying to pull his hand down but failing miserably. “You must be Jonica’s little sister, Rachel. I’m Zeke.” “Ex-sister,” Jonica yelled out. “She has told me all about you.” “Yeah, well, she hasn’t told me anything about you. I would shake your hand, you know, but I don’t want to grab the wrong thing, since I can’t see,” Rachel couldn’t help but add, emphasizing the last word. She smiled at Rob growling beside her, Jonica threatening her some more, and the naked man laughing. Her smile vanished when he spoke again. “Rob, good to see you again. Come on in while I go get dressed.”

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Rachel didn’t move. “How the hell does he know your name, Rob? You know him? Why the hell am I the last one to know everything? Jonica, what the hell have you been hiding from me?” Rachel turned herself loose from Rob and stomped inside the house, stopping to check out naked man’s ass. All the while Jonica stood, threatening to serve her eyeballs in martini glasses with lots of gin, barely covered in a towel from down the hall. Rachel ordered Rob to cover his eyes. *** “Hey, how come I can’t look at Mr. Naked but you get to see Jonica...ain’t right...bitch, don’t bend, breath, or fart...for God’s sake, go get dressed, and do not, whatsoever you do, drop that towel.” Rob dropped his hand just in time for Jonica to toss the towel from her bedroom doorway and have it land with a wet thump on Rachel’s head. He tried to hold back his laughter but gave up the fight when Rachel shouted, “This better not be coated with what coulda been my future nieces and nephews, I know that damn much!” Both he and Zeke roared with laughter as Rachel pounded on the closed door. Rob composed himself enough to walk over to Rachel, throw her over his shoulder, and walk back

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out, stopping only to speak to Zeke. “Meet us at Whiskey’s tonight at six for drinks, so the girls can talk and everyone is dressed.” Zeke nodded his head in agreement. Rob felt Rachel attempt to lift herself up, trying to get another peak at a still very naked Zeke. “Ouch, what the fuck was that for?!” she cried out, rubbing her stinging ass. “Stop staring at your sister’s man,” he admonished, landing another smack. “How is it my fault that Jonica let her man answer the door naked? By the way, if you even think about doing that, I’m going to spank your ass.” Reaching the truck, he pulled opened the door, dropping her inside. Resting one hand on the door frame and one on the roof, he leaned in to make sure she understood him clearly. “It doesn’t work that way, Rachel. This is not a switch relationship. You will be the only one getting spanked or tied to my bed. Not the other way around.” He dipped his head and took her lips in a quick but possessive kiss before pulling back and getting in the driver’s side. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered under her breath, buckling in before he pulled out. They drove back to the office in silence, Rachel still wondering how the hell Jonica had kept Mr. Yummy a secret for

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so long. And now she had something else to apologize for! She felt a little guilty about taking a peak at him, but seriously, the man was FINE. And if Jonica hadn’t claimed him, she would have somehow sweet-talked Rob into being in a three-way relationship—she would make the perfect filling for the two men. Sighing, she quickly put that out of her mind. She needed to get back to the office and get some work done. She was pretty sure Jonica wasn’t going to make it in today. Hell, Rachel didn’t know how she herself was able to function, much less walk after last night. Back at the apartment complex, she quickly got out of the truck, not waiting for Rob to open the door for her. She was still a little miffed at him. She didn’t make it to the door before he turned her around to face him, his deep blue eyes staring down at her. Rachel forgot herself and stood up on tiptoe to kiss his lips, bringing his head down to get a better angle. Rob happily accommodated her, not caring that they were putting a show for all the office staff, as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in. It was Ben who interrupted them. “I see you finally got your man.” Rachel broke the kiss, looking over her shoulder and giving him a huge smile. “Now Ben, honey, don’t be mad—you know I still love you.” When she tried to

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go to him to give a hug, she came up short. Looking down at the strong arm wrapped around her waist, she followed it up to Rob’s face. The man was so not happy. “You look good in green too, baby,” she laughed up at him. He tightened his arm in response. Ben just shook his head and took the packages inside the office, where she finally noticed all of the staff was peering out every available window, laughing their asses off. Great—just what she needed. Giving them a look that said they were so going to be fired if they didn’t get back to work, she waited until they scrambled away before turning back to Rob. “Are you going to come in?” He pulled her forward in response. Rachel couldn’t help but grin as they walked into the office, Rob’s arm still tight around her waist. Phrases such as ‘About damn time’ and ‘I knew it’ followed her as they walked to her desk. Ignoring them, she dropped her purse on her chair. Rob sat at the edge of her desk, watching her go about starting her day. A little self-conscious, she asked him if he planned on doing that all day long, “because there is lots of work to get done.” The infuriating man just nodded and got up to go to the back employees’ area. That pissed Rachel off. She followed him to the back.

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“If you think you are going to go back to just nodding at me when I talk to you, mmph—” Her words were cut off as Rob grabbed her to him, his lips stopping anything else she might say. After the initial shock, she responded by kissing him back just as aggressively. Rachel couldn’t get enough of his hungry mouth as they mated with each other. The next thing she knew she was pressed back against the wall, her arms and legs wrapped around him. “Rob, we have to stop.” Her weak protest fell on deaf ears. Even as she told herself that they needed to stop, that this was not professional, she couldn’t help but rub herself against him, wishing he was buried deep. If she angled herself just like so, it was a good thing Rob’s lips were locked with hers, because her scream would have brought everyone back to investigate. *** Rob stood still, holding a still trembling Rachel in his arms, her face buried in his neck as she tried to regain her breathing. How he was still standing was beyond him. She was so beautiful in her response to him, leaving him a little shaken. He lowered his head as he heard her mumble something. “What’d you say, baby?”

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She was playing with the collar of his shirt, her makeup a little smudged, and said, “I’m so easy,” looking uncomfortable at what they had just done. His eyes narrowed. “Explain yourself.” “I don’t—” “No, look at me when you are talking to me,” he demanded. “Don’t take that tone with me, Rob.” “What tone do you want me take when you are speaking nonsense?” Her eyes narrowed at his words. “You are not easy. If any other man tried to do what I just did, he would be lying on the floor, unconscious. You would never let another man get as close as me. You respond like this only to me because you are mine, and there is no other man for you but me.” He watched as Rachel just stared up at him, her mouth making a small ‘o’ of surprise. It wasn’t long before she was over the shock. “I don’t, Rob—I mean, did you see Zeke? Not that I did or anything, but wow, if you were still ignoring me and I had met him first, well…” She stopped, shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance. Rob threw his head back in laughter. They were so good together. Rob pulled her in for another quick kiss, then stepped back from her before he took her back to his apartment. Rachel straightened her clothes, her next words chipping at his control.

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“It’s a good thing I have an extra pair of panties in my purse. I don’t want to go bare ass all day long,” she teased as she walked out of the break room. Rob curled his hands and counted to ten. Then kept going until he reached one hundred so he wouldn’t do something stupid, like go after her and take her back to his bed, where they would spend the rest of the day and night. *** Rachel laughed all the way back to her desk, knowing what her words did to him. She was surprised at his self-restraint. Content, she got back to work and didn’t stop until it was time to close down. They had been extremely busy, and with Jonica out, she had double the amount of work. Rob stopped by several times. He made sure she ate the pasta he brought for her, not caring that she had several people waiting to speak to her. By five thirty she wanted to drop to the nearest bed. After not getting much sleep last night and all the walking and talking she’d done today, she was exhausted. Popping a couple of Excedrin for her headache, she waited for Rob to return. They would go to her house so she could shower and change and then meet up with Jonica and Zeke for drinks.

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“Ready?” Rob asked behind her. “Jesus is THE Christ!!!” Rachel shouted one of Jonica’s favorite phrases as she leapt over the back of her leather office chair and headed for the window behind her desk. It would have been a clean escape if the deep rumble of Rob’s laughter hadn’t stopped her. “Don’t sneak up on me! You over grown Billy Bob! Shit, first I can’t get you to speak, and now you’re scaring years off my life. Ass.” She grabbed her purse and keys and they left through the employee entrance, setting the alarm and locking the door behind them. Twenty minutes later Rachel was in her shower, waiting for Rob to join her. She didn’t have to wait long. He was sliding the door open and stepping inside a couple of minutes later. “That’s just the way I like to you see, baby— naked.” Rachel couldn’t help but beam at his words. “Really? Because that’s the way I feel about you.” Reaching out to him, Rachel ran her hands over his muscular chest, down to his well-defined abs and then back up again before repeating the motion several times. On the last time down, her hands went all the way down until she took his erection in her hands. She heard his sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t stop her. She hadn’t had a chance to touch him as she’d wanted last night, so she wasn’t about to waste any time. But just as she was going to drop to

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her knees, Rob pulled her up and impaled her on his cock. “Not tonight, Rachel. I need to come inside your hot little pussy.” Rachel cried out as Rob began moving against her. Both of his hands held onto her hips as he moved her to his satisfaction. She wrapped her arms around him and just held on for the ride. The water rained down on them, making their bodies slick and wet. And just like so many times last night, Rachel exploded in his arms—but Rob was not done. “One more, Rachel, just one more time,” Rob insisted. Rachel couldn’t help but follow him into another tumultuous round of lovemaking. By the time they finished showering and changed, they were an hour late. “Shit! Jonica is going to be pissed. Rob, hurry the hell up and quit staring at my ass.” Rob just laughed as she pulled on her jeans. They were one of the tighter pairs she owned, so she had to wiggle, jump and shimmy her way into them. “Now you are just playing with fire, baby,” he growled out at her, smacking her on the ass. “Hey, don’t start something you can’t finish.” Next thing she knew, Rachel was flat on her back on the bed underneath nearly three hundred pounds of pure, corn fed, southern-bred alpha man.

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“Don’t tempt me, Rachel, unless you want Jonica beating down your door.” “The wench will do it too if we don’t get moving. Now get off me and save this,” she cupped him through his jeans, “for later.” Rachel quickly rolled from under him, having caught him off guard, and ran out of the room, her boots in hand. She was seated on the couch when a fully dressed Rob came out of the bedroom looking ten kinds of sexy. She couldn’t help but stare. Dressed in dark denim jeans and a blue tee shirt, he was a walking advertisement for mindblowing sex. Closing her mouth, she finished zipping up her boots and stood up. “Ready,” she announced, gathering her keys and purse. Rob led them outside and into his truck. The parking lot of Whiskey’s was full by the time they pulled in. Her cell phone rang as Rob found a parking spot. “Where the hell are you?” “Well hello to you too.” “Don’t fuck with me, Rachel. You two were supposed to be here an hour ago. Don’t make me come get you.” “Sheesh, calm down, Jonnie. We’re already here—no need to burst a blood vessel.”

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“Heifer, bust a blood vessel; I could be home having a nut busted in me, and you are lollygagging like time is standing still.” “Bitch, you’re not the only one who could be at home getting some. Rob was ready to spank my ass then fuck me, but we had to stop and come meet you so I could apologize before you came busting my door down. Speaking of busting things, how many women have you threatened to bust up for staring at Zeke since you’ve been in there?” “None—with that M.D. behind his name, he’d be required to patch the hussies up, and I don’t need them that close to him. Now hurry up. I am horny, hungry, and hot. You get five minutes of groveling, after which you can buy me a burger and Dr. Pepper and some fried pickles; then I’m out of here.” Rachel continued to listen to Jonica explain how she felt tonight’s groveling session should go as she and Rob made their way into the crowded bar and right up behind the booth that Jonica and Zeke occupied. Jonica was just saying something about a cute new bartender into her phone when Rob placed his hand on her shoulder. “Jesus is the Christ!!!!” Jonica yelled as she jumped from her seat, over the table and into Zeke’s arms, swinging her legs and arms all the way. If it hadn’t been for Rob’s quick reflexes, Rachel would

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have been knocked out, as one of Jonica’s feet narrowly missed her head. “Bitch, if you want to fight, we can do this,” Rachel threatened, her eyes full of mirth. Jonica sat in the safety of Zeke’s arms, her left hand curled in a fist and pressed to her heart as if keeping it from beating right out of her chest. She didn’t have time to complain about anything or threaten to kill Rachel, because the neon lights in the bar glinted off the huge diamond on her ring finger and called to Rachel like a lighthouse to a lost ship. “If that’s what I think it is, I am so going to be the hottest maid of honor on earth.” Rachel squealed and wiggled her way onto Zeke’s lap with Jonica. Zeke sat staring over their heads at Rob as the two ladies made themselves comfortable and began discussing dates and colors and all things that make a wedding day...well, a wedding day. So engrossed in their plans were the two best friends that they didn’t notice Rob lifting Rachel from Zeke’s lap. Nor did they acknowledge the two large men carrying them from the bar cradled in their arms. The two chatted continuously until they parted ways in the parking lot and were deposited in different vehicles. Once they were securely buckled in, they dug out their cell phones and called each other, picking up the conversation as if it had never dropped.

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As Rob made his way to Rachel’s large bed with her over his shoulder still chattering away to Jonica, he couldn’t help but smile. Jonica was getting married. He wondered how many times he’d have to ask Rachel to get the same results. Dropping her onto the bed, he waited as she held up one finger and continued to speak to Jonica. Hell no, this woman did not just tell him to wait. This was too much. Reaching out, he grasped the tiny PDA in his hand and spoke. Apparently Zeke had come to the same conclusion, because it was his rumbling voice on the other line, with Jonica mumbling caveats and epitaphs in the background. “Hey Zeke, how’s it going? Oh, yeah? Same here. Good idea.” Rob spoke rapidly as he walked into the master bath. Rachel wondered what on earth he could be doing when she heard what could only be the sound of the toilet seat going up “Yeah, I bet this one cost about four or five hundred out of pocket, but since I plan to keep Rachel occupied all night, she will be too tired to gossip so we’ll at least have one day of peace.” One day of peace—what the hell was he talking about? Moments later she found out.

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“Okay, well, if Jonica doesn’t kill you, then hightail it over here to maim me, we’ll meet up Monday morning to get them replacements. Talk to you later. And hey, just so you know. If you hurt Jonica, I am going to let Rachel maim you right before I kill you. Oh yeah, duly noted.” Rachel continued to listen as Rob threatened to disembowel Zeke if Jonica so much as thought about shedding any tears. Her heart clenched, and a smile grew on her face. Rob was so special. And the fact that he looked out for her best friend…well, enough said. Rachel was all set to rush into his arms and tell him how much she loved him, when she heard the distinct sound of her phone hitting the water and the toilet flushing. PLUNK!!!! WHOOOSH!!!! “Motherfucker, I know you didn’t! That had better not be my fucking phone. Do you know how much that cost? Or that all my fucking contacts were there!? You better have a damn good fucking reason for flushing my phone!” “Stripping you naked and spanking your ass sounds like a good enough reason to me.” Rachel saw him begin to strip, and her body went into overdrive. She could always get a new phone, but Rob was irreplaceable. And when he looked at her with those intense green eyes burning with lust,

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well, who the hell cared about a stupid cell phone? Not when she was about to get truly fucked. **DR and LG**

TAG!!!!!!!!!!

Hotter than the Hates of Elle by Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh

Chapter One: Give ’Em Elle At thirty-three years of age, M. Elle Hamilton had lived long enough to accumulate a list of things she refused to acknowledge. Among those items were the fact that her parents had reproductive organs, Freaknik 1992, and her actual first name. Oh yeah, there was that one other thing: Marius Ermenrich, motherfucker extraordinaire. Marius was a whole lot of asshole wrapped in motherfucker and drizzled with son of a bitch. Though he spoke English perfectly, he insisted on speaking in his native tongue: shitheadian, which was always delivered with that sarcasm-laced accent. Being that he was one of the few people her boss, Hal Fionnlaogh, could tolerate, she forced herself to be civil to him, which was accomplished only if he kept a minimum of two counties between them. She might’ve been intimidated by him except for a few things. First, she’d grown up with Chaos (former Marine, former SWAT and co-holder of the ‘just give me a reason’ title) as a sister. Second, she was reared in a town so deep in Mississippi that the director of Deliverance would’ve been glad to hear something as civilized as banjo music. Third, she was six feet one inch tall and two hundred five pounds in her bare feet. Fourth, she was very good at her job, despite ending

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damn near every day splattered with oil from her hard hat to her steel-toed boots. Coming straight out of the woods and clay dirt roads of rural Mississippi, she’d answered the ‘help wanted’ ad and after spending two months bugging, pleading, and then downright threatening Hal Fionnlaogh, she was officially ‘help.’ Grateful for the chance, she didn’t let the first complaint spill out of her mouth or let any kind of weather, bad mood, bad cramps, or misadventure stop her from showing up on time and busting her ass all shift to prove to him and everybody else that hiring her was the best move he’d ever made. She’d come in like every other green-hand—not knowing shit. Like all bo-weevils, she worked all over the oil field serving as flunky to any and every body. Once everyone realized she wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t afraid of hard work and was pretty damn good at the tasks assigned, she’d worked her way up to being a bonafide roughneck. Her days consisted of connecting and disconnecting the joints of casing, tubing and drillstems going into the hole (the hole in the ground where drilling for oil first starts) and stacking, but at least she got to spend the bulk of her day in one location. After she’d conquered that, she got to try her hand at being a derrickman. Not afraid of heights, she worked her way up in the derrick where

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she connected and disconnected pipe during drilling. The crow’s nest was hot in summer, frigid in winter, and lonely all the time, being that there was just space enough for one man or one determined-ass woman to work. Some days, she was even the driller—i.e., the boss. While she didn’t mind running the entire drilling rig, she didn’t really want to wear the ‘boss’ hat. Okay, she didn’t mind wearing the boss hat, but if she was going to wear that particular hat, she wanted to wear the one labeled ‘field superintendent’ because the driller was accountable to them. Being that Fionnlaogh’s eldest son was the field superintendent and wasn’t about to give that title up soon, she was content to remain up in the crow’s nest. Most employees didn’t want to work up in the crow’s nest, but then she wasn’t most employees. For that matter, she wasn’t most women. She wasn’t most anything, and it hadn’t taken the rough and tough men who worked with her long to get that. Yeah, they’d tried to punk her by crowding her and making inappropriate comments about her tits and ass, but they’d underestimated her. Rural Mississippi hadn’t punked her; poverty hadn’t punked her; and the unscrupulous males who would’ve taken her virtue if they could hadn’t punked her, so these guys had no fucking chance.

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She’d taken time off, but that was because she’d gone and gotten degreed-up. Despite her quest for higher education, she was back every weekend, every holiday, every break, and every summer. And even after she’d earned her B.S. in Geophysics from Texas A&M and Ph.D. in Petroleum Engineering from UT, she’d come back. She might have the credentials for academia or the boardroom, but she found she didn’t have the stomach for it. Just like she didn’t have the stomach for the white-collar sector, she discovered she didn’t have the stomach for Marius Ermenrich. She might’ve felt bad for her hostile feelings towards the man, but she didn’t. He was like a lot of the males she’d first encountered in the business, except he was foreign. She wasn’t a xenophobe; she just tolerated homegrown assholes a lot better than imported assholes. Mr. Asshole Motherfucker Son-of-a-Bitch— along with hell, half of Texas, and all of Luxembourg— obviously had a problem with a woman being anywhere except beneath him in bed, but she was damn good at her job, so he could shut the fuck up, and if he didn’t like that he could kiss her whole entire ass. ***

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At six feet eight inches tall, two hundred fifty pounds, Marius Ermenrich was accustomed to the looks he got. Other males gave him a wide berth; females stopped to take a second look—and sometimes a third and fourth look. And then there was Elle Hamilton…who didn’t look at him at all if she could help it, and when she did it was with dismissal. He’d never had a woman react to him like that. A novel experience, it was a slight he couldn’t let pass, especially when he spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about the woman beneath the oil, sweat, dust and “fuck you”s. Built on a bigger scale than most women, he imagined she had a body that just didn’t quit. He imagined because it wasn’t like he ever got to see a whole lot of it, being her standard outfit was hardhat, cargo jeans, A&M or UT t-shirt, and steel-toed boots. He had no idea how long her hair was or how big her breasts were, but he knew how big her balls were. Truth be told, they were bigger than anybody’s he’d ever met. In a male-dominated world, Elle held her own and three or four others. He respected that…and damn near every other thing about her, including her work ethic, her toughness, and her intellect. As much as he liked long hair on a woman and copious T&A, the one thing guaran-damned-teed to give him a hard-on was a

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woman with brains—who knew how to use them. Elle didn’t broadcast her credentials, but she didn’t have to. The other crew members bragged on her all the time. Those brains, that integrity and that right cross caused him to walk around hard for her all day and jerk off every night. If all that wasn’t enough, then there was her queenliness. Despite what she did for a living; despite what she wore to work; despite the way her brown eyes shot ice to those who’d raised her ire, the title ‘Queen’ should have preceded her name, or perhaps ‘Empress.’ And if not either of those titles, than definitely ‘Mrs.’—and of course ‘Ermenrich’ would follow the ‘Hamilton’ in her name. He liked Elle Hamilton—a whole lot. Like his morning cup of coffee, he needed his daily dose of cold shoulder. Quitting the office, he headed outside. Being that it was Friday and about five minutes to quitting time, he knew he had to step it up. Making good use of his height, he was standing right by her truck five minutes before she got there. Though she’d been sharing a good laugh with the other roughnecks, all traces of mirth left her face as soon as she spotted him. Being her usual ornery self, she ignored him. Walking around him, she unlocked her toolbox, threw her gear in, slammed it shut and climbed into the driver’s seat. And she did it all without sparing him a

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glance. Ah, he wondered when she’d snap and cuss him out like she’d done that first day they’d met. He’d made the mistake of telling her she was rank. In return, she’d made the mistake of looking at him. Witnessing the dispassion in her eyes morph into undiluted hate, and hearing her mouthed “fuck you”‘s, might’ve had him running for cover…if he was a lesser man. Despite being reared in privilege, he wasn’t lesser anything. So instead of apologizing or making an attempt to act more civilized around Elle, he made it a point to rankle her. And she made it a point to give it back a hundredfold. That was why he admired her. Unlike everyone else who went out of their way to kiss his ass once they discovered his father was a primary investor in the operation, Elle went out of her way to let him know she didn’t give a flying fuck. His money didn’t intimidate her; his connections didn’t intimidate her; and neither did his size. He discovered that little tidbit the one and only time he’d made the mistake of entering her personal space. Without even bothering to look up, she’d given him one warning. “You got three seconds to back the fuck up.” He had every intention of heeding her warning; however, he was about a half a second too late. He’d found himself on his knees, his ears ringing, his groin on fire, and his nose bleeding. To this day, he still

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didn’t know how she’d moved so fast or what she’d hit him with, but he learned real fast why one shouldn’t fuck with Elle Hamilton. Spending the rest of the day limping—and getting laughed at by the rest of the crew—he’d walked out to his truck only to see a note under his windshield wipers. Recognizing her scrawl, his ego was all set to accept her apology. Only it wasn’t an apology; it was the nail in the coffin. Since you’re new in town, and seem to have stepped into an ass whipping, thought I’d be neighborly and recommend some doctors. Knowing he’d be right as rain by the end of the day, he merely glanced at the business card stapled to it…and then he frowned. Dr. Ezekial McAllister, OB/GYN. What? The next afternoon he pointed out her error…in front of the whole crew. “Elle darling, I know you think you’re above mistake making, but you gave me the wrong business card—but perhaps that’s just your way of telling me that you’re interested in an alpha male like myself. A strong woman needs a stronger man.” Proud of his comeback, he walked over and returned the business card and gave her a little wink to go with it. The sound of indrawn breaths should’ve warned him, but he was too focused on the image of Elle ripe with his progeny to pay attention to shit. And then her beautiful, full lips started moving.

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“I have no problem acknowledging my mistakes; however, in this case, no mistake was made. I meant to give you Dr. McAllister’s card. It’s what I’d do for any female looking for a good OB/GYN.” “I assure you, I’m one hundred percent male,” he’d said. “I assure you, I’m one hundred percent not interested,” she’d countered and walked out. Make no mistake about it. Elle didn’t walk out because his words intimidated her. Elle walked out because it was quitting time, and she took that damn seriously. Of course, he didn’t let her walking out on their argument stop him. He simply followed her. Speaking only loud enough for her to hear, he continued his bating. “You might not be interested now, but if there are females who can resist an Ermenrich man, I’ve yet to meet them.” “Ah, so your family carries on the practice of keeping it all in the family, like the House of Habsburg?” she’d countered. “I’m Luxembourgish, not Swiss or Austrian,” he began. “And I’m Texan and that trumps anything you got, which for the record, I don’t want any of.” “When you beg me for it, and I show you mercy and make you mine, the first thing I’m going to do is spank your ass for having such a smart mouth. The

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second thing I’m going to do is make you get rid of that male Ob/Gyn because no man is touching my woman. The third thing I’m going to do is teach you Letzebuergesch, German and French, as all children in Luxembourg are at the minimum tri-lingual. The fourth thing I’m going to do is—” he started. “Wake up,” she interrupted, “because the only way I’d have your children is if hell froze over. Nota bene: You don’t need to concern yourself with teaching me German or French, and don’t bother trying to teach me Letzebuergesch, because I’m not interested,” she said in German and then repeated in French. And his cock got harder. He stood there several minutes after she drove off in a cloud of dust, knowing he was going to pursue Elle Hamilton and Texas help both of them. He could hear his father laughing his ass off all the way from Luxembourg. As a man who had more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes, his father’s youth had been overflowing with women who put the legendary Venus to shame. Yet he’d given it all up for Marius’ mother. A Texan with a fiery temper and a deadly drop kick, Baylor Austin wasn’t anything like the women in his father’s past. Of average looks, she never ran across a gun she didn’t want to shoot, bourbon she didn’t like, or a man who didn’t need one good roundhouse kick to the jaw to make him ‘act right.’ Yet his father was completely

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and unashamedly whipped. He’d never understood what it was about his mother that had had his father so caught up—and then he’d met Elle. His thoughts were interrupted by Hal Fionnlaogh. “I’m going to give you some advice. Don’t tangle with Elle Hamilton unless you got a surplus of dignity, because one thing Elle Hamilton does even better than she roughnecks is get people told.” “I’ll take that into consideration,” he said. It must’ve been something about his tone that Fionnlaogh didn’t like, because he got downright mean. “I don’t give a damn how many millions of Euros you and your daddy invested in this operation. You got two choices: you better treat Elle like you got some damn sense, and you better treat Elle like you got some damn sense. Deviate from either of those choices and you’re going to go missing.” Before Marius could answer, he had a whole crew surrounding him and reiterating that. He smiled (on the inside), wondering what Elle would do if she knew just how much Fionnlaogh loved her and just how much the rest of the crew respected her. Only one helluva woman garnered that kind of reaction. Yep, he was definitely going to marry her.

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“I’ll choose option a,” he told the crew. “But know this, that woman is going to be Mrs. Ermenrich.” “No, partner. Elle’s got a Ph.D., and ‘Dr.’ trumps ‘Mrs.’ round these parts,” Seoc Fionnlaogh said.

Chapter Two: Elle of a Good Time Not many things got Elle in a skirt, but Chaos was one of those things. Her little sister by exactly ten months and two weeks, they were as thick as thieves…and they’d had to be, because their nearest neighbors growing up had been cotton, corn, and sweet potatoes. Fifteen miles of the crops had surrounded them on either side. She’d hated those damn crops in summer, but those crops had kept them fed all winter, a roof over their heads, and shoes on their feet. Those crops had also gotten her to Texas and Chaos to Parris Island, South Carolina. While the oil fields had gotten her to Texas A&M and then UT, the Marines had gotten Chaos to Alabama A&M. Not bad for two girls who grew up in a family so poor that being called ‘dirt poor’ was an upgrade. It wasn’t everyday that your little sister called you so you could meet the man she wanted to marry. That was what had gotten her into a skirt. Well, that and Chaos’ “suggestion” for her to make an effort to not look like shit. After talking her into taking her to Red-Headed Step Child—her favorite sports bar that served the best steak she’d ever tasted—it was a done deal. She’d arrived early so she could watch them on the down low, but as she’d quickly discovered, Chaos was a whore for her fiancé, which resulted in them being late—which for Chaos was right on time. Elle

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was impressed right off the bat, because Chaos was the keeper of being on time. She was further impressed when she spotted the sleek limo that pulled up…and the doors didn’t open until twenty minutes later. When Chaos finally exited the vehicle, she couldn’t help but smile at the way she staggered. And when she saw the man who exited after her, she understood why they needed the limo. Though she was more than twenty-five yards away, Chaos’ man had the kind of fine that you could see in the dark. When Chaos finally untangled herself from him and made her way over, she couldn’t help the smile that broke out. “You are such a whore, but I totally understand,” she said as she took a good look at one of the most strangely beautiful men she’d ever laid eyes on. Standing well over six feet, he had nutmegcolored skin, eyes the color of the beaches advertised on spring breaks…and straight, golden-colored hair that fell halfway down his back. Though most women would get lost in his chiseled body, it was his hair that caused her to interrupt the introductions. “Elle, this is Thurston Vidar; Thurston, this is—” Chaos began. “Before we even get to the intros, you need to explain your hair. Tell me you don’t relax and dye that, because if anything resembling a ‘yes’ comes out

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of your mouth, I’m going to need you to turn around, finish drinking your mint julep, and get the fuck out, since we can’t introduce you to our family as the man who spends more time at the hairdressers than all the women in our family combined.” “I’m not gay,” he’d answered. “I have no problem with gay. You’re hot enough that Chaos would work overtime to turn you bisexual. I do, however, have a problem with guys having better hair than us. That’s out.” “My father is white. My mother is threequarters black and one-quarter Choctow,” he explained. “And one hundred percent bad motherfucker,” Chaos threw in. “And she’s from Mississippi, rocks a big-ass fro, a badass piece of steel and an MD!” Suitably impressed, she could see why her sister would marry into this family. If Thurston’s mom was that badass, he couldn’t be half bad. “Cool. Well, Thurston, if you can make it through this meal without pissing me off, I might give you a strong ‘maybe.’ Then again, Chaos hasn’t picked you off from five-hundred yards, so you’re probably okay. By the way, I’m Elle. Call me by my first name and you perish.” “Noted.”

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“So you’ve spent more than two seconds with Chaos, right?” she asked. “Yes.” “And you want to marry her anyway?” “Absolutely.” Deciding she didn’t have to maim him, Elle sat and watched the byplay between the couple. Chaos tried her damndest not to be impressed with Thurston, who was so close up on her Elle wondered where the displaced air relocated to. Chaos might try to ignore Thurston, but he refused to be ignored by her little sister. Though she’d just met him, she had to admit that it was mighty hard to ignore Thurston Vidar…and it wasn’t simply because he was fine. It was because there was this otherness about him. Being that Chaos was all weird and shit, she guessed their weirdness canceled each other out, so all good. Plus, whatever he did to and for Chaos, she noticed there was a smile in Chaos’ eyes. “Would you two quit it?” Elle asked as she dug into her steak. “What?” Chaos asked, managing to look all nonthreatening, which was comical being that Chaos was one of the most dangerous motherfuckers she knew. “I don’t have to look under the table to know he’s probably got those long fingers of his in your panties.”

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The man wanting her baby sister had the smarts to look away from her when she stared him down. Of course he couldn’t wipe that smirk off of his face. She didn’t maim him, though, because hearing Chaos’ gasp of horror had Elle laughing out loud. Thurston was definitely getting the thumbs-up…and a nickname. Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of another male. “My twin, Borghild,” Thurston introduced. “Did you say twin?” she asked. “Yeah, how hot is that?” Chaos asked. “Very. It’s obvious from the coloring that y’all are related, and damn your momma must be the shit, but y’all have names just as fucked up as us. Have you met the FUNC posse?” “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” “Oh, it won’t be a pleasure. It might be an ass whipping waiting to happen, some shit that will be the catalyst for a new law, but a pleasure…not so much.” *** Being that his cousin Wolfram was in town, Marius decided to take him to his favorite steak house. Texans knew their steak…and their football. He’d just bit into the best cut of steak he’d had since the last time he was here when his whole body went on alert.

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That could only mean one thing: Elle was in the vicinity. Looking around, it took him only moments to spot her…and only nanoseconds to get an instant hard cock. Of all the steakhouses in Texas, she had to walk in this one, Marius thought even as he moved so he could get a better angle to ogle her. It was like he was looking at her for the first time, and in reality, he was. Gone was the hardhat, the jeans, and the t-shirt. Gone was the oil, the dirt and the sweat. Gone were the steel-toed boots. Gone was the roughneck/derrickman, and in its place was the woman beneath the title. And damn, what a woman. Built like a bigger, bustier version of Serena Williams; he had to take a long pull of his soda in an effort to calm down. She wasn’t dressed inappropriately, but what she had on showed off more of her body than he cared for other males to see. She wore a denim skirt that showed copious thigh, a v-neck t-shirt and cowboy boots, and wearing her jet black hair loose; it was all he could do not to run across the steakhouse and drag her fine ass atop his erection. And he might’ve if he’d had time to kill all of the males who might see more of his woman than he wanted. It was then he noticed he wasn’t the only male looking. Without even taking his eyes off of Elle, he warned his cousin off.

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“If you’re interested in continuing to breathe, you’ll get your eyes off of my woman, Wolfram.” And of course being an Ermenrich male, Wolfram wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.” “And if you keep looking, you won’t be seeing shit but my fist heading towards your eye,” he warned. No telling what would’ve happened next if a second male hadn’t entered the scene and then had the nerve to sit next to his Elle. Lip curled, ears smoking, he watched the male flirt with his woman…and he didn’t like it one bit. Without considering the ramifications of his actions, he stood and headed across the restaurant. Of course, Wolfram stood with him and followed. He might need to whip Wolfram’s ass later on, but right now Wolfram simply evened the odds. They were family, and family stuck together. *** Elle spotted Marius as soon as she entered the steakhouse. There was no way that she couldn’t spot him. He was the finest thing in the room. Like most of the men in the steakhouse, he had on jeans and a tshirt. But unlike most of the men present, he wore the shit out of the simple ensemble. Black t-shirt

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stretched tight over his wide chest, stonewashed denim stretched temptingly across his ass—if she wasn’t busy biting into the best steak money could buy, she’d be sorely tempted to bite into Marius…over and over again. Turning to Twin One, as she’d dubbed Chaos’s soon-to-be brother-in-law, she gave him a command. “I need you to act interested in me…without invading my personal space.” “What?” he asked. “Act in-te-rest-ed. In. me,” she repeated slowly. “And why would I have to act?” the flirt said. “Because if you invade my personal space, you’re going to be limping around with one nut that only halfway works…some of the time,” she explained. “That doesn’t seem particularly fair,” he pouted. “It’s not and I don’t care, but if you don’t help me out, I’m not going to give my blessing for Twin Two to marry my little sister. Then she’s going to be all pissy because apparently, he’s been throwing it down on her real good. When Chaos gets pissy, massacres happen. Do you want to be responsible for that?” she asked. Before she could finish, Chaos tossed in her two cents. “And before you get out of hand, please know that I’m armed…heavily armed.”

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“And please know that if you upset Elle and thus upset Chaos, you upset me, bro,” Thurston fairly growled. From the frown on his face, it was clear that even the prospect of something coming between him and Chaos had him ready to brawl. Yep, she liked him. Turning to Twin One, she smiled. “For future reference, just do what I say, because it’s so much more palatable to do the task when you don’t have the threat of three ass whippings over your head.” “I’d just like to go on record here and state that Thurston cannot whip my ass.” “That may be, but Chaos and I are a whole different story.” “I know a player like yourself isn’t accustomed to being overlooked, but in this case it’s a good thing. If we’re overlooking you, we’re not arranging for you to go missing.” “I hate to break this to you, Elle, but Mr. Boredom himself is the furthest thing from a player that you’ll find,” Thurston said. “He’s got an ongoing relationship with his medical journals. In fact, he’s about two weekends away from being that old lady with twenty cats.” “You’re a doctor?” she asked.

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“Yes, which is a good thing because when I beat some respect into my little brother, I’ll be here to patch him up before he goes running off to tell mom.” “You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Twin Two threw back. “Ooh, catfight. Rrrour,” she growled while spreading her fingers and clawing the air. It wouldn’t be until later that she’d discover just how accurate that descriptor was. “You know what? I like you, Twin One. And because I do, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to introduce you to one of Chaos’s friends.” Seeing Twin Two’s panicked look, she quickly clarified herself. “I mean her actual friends, not her one of her many pieces of weaponry. You’re a doctor; G’s a doctor; both of y’all have little sibling envy; y’all should get along like a house on fire.” “Him and Gallactica?” Chaos spit. “Yep.” “Actually, he’s already met her. They work at the same hospital system.” “Which means she’s probably already either a) told him to fuck off; b) doesn’t realize he exists; or c) currently has a boy toy.” “My guess is all of the above,” Chaos answered.

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“Yeah, but Borie here is brother to your man, and any man that has been around you for more than ten seconds and still wants to marry you has to have big, brass, mastodon-sized balls, so I’m betting Borie here can take G’s current boy toy.” Turning to Thurston’s brother, she gave him a look. “My money’s on you, so when you get back to the ATL, I’m going to need you to beat that ass, and then go get your woman.” “But—” he began. “No buts—you and G are going to be perfect together. Now in the meantime, practice a ‘smoldering eyes’ look.” “Why am I practicing the smoldering eyes look when I already have that down pat?” he said while going into full mack mode. Well damn, despite what his brother said, she suspected that Twin One had a core of passion just waiting for the right woman to unleash it. Gallactica so fucking owed her. Remembering he’d asked her a question, she responded. “You have to practice it because I need to run to the ladies’ room and remove my panties so I can spend the next few minutes flashing that motherfucker across the dining room.” Noting his shocked expression, she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you asked.”

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“And I will not make that mistake again,” he responded. “Nope, but next time you find yourself alone in a crowded steakhouse with Gallactica, I’ll bet you’ll be on the verge of busting out the zipper in your pants imagining her sans panties,” she said before flouncing off to the bathroom. *** Ezekial “Zeke” McAllister was in the middle of enjoying a scrumptious steak when his best friend pulled up from his steak long enough to speak. “Hey, isn’t that your neighbor?” he asked, looking across the dining room. As he spotted Elle Hamilton, a brief shudder racked his body. He was a big man, and few things scared him. But then there was Elle. Elle had only been his neighbor for round about six months, which was five months twenty-nine days longer than he needed to realize that she, was for lack of a better word, one woman he wouldn’t ever turn his back on. The one time he had, he’d ended up flat on his back with a pickaxe at his throat. And he hadn’t truly turned his back—he’d just turned to the side a little, but that’d been all that Elle had needed.

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“Personal space boundaries, dude. I don’t care if you’re a doctor.” “I was just trying to hand you my business card and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he’d choked out. Taking the card, she’d read it and laughed. “Ah, so you’re a coochie doctor? You’ve got a lot of credentials there, but the one thing you don’t have is a coochie…or do you?” she’d asked as she’d peered at him suspiciously. “All man,” he’d said. “Good, because you’d be an ass ugly woman. Of course, as fine as you are I’d still fuck you, which would make me bisexual, and I hadn’t really planned on that…but I could make the change. Well, I could’ve until you disclosed the fact that you’re a coochie doctor.” “What’s wrong with being an obstetrician/gynecologist?” he’d asked, all offended. “Nothing’s wrong with it per se; but having a boyfriend who spends all day looking at coochie, I might start wondering how my coochie measured up to the other coochies you’ve come into contact with. Yeah, so what college team do you cheer for?” “Aggies and Red Raiders—against anybody else, but when they’re playing against each other, I’m A&M all the way,” he’d said.

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“Well alright then. Being you’re a fellow Aggie, I guess I’ll withhold maiming you—I’m against alumnion-alumni crime.” And that’d been his introduction to Elle Hamilton. His musings were interrupted by Ben’s next comment. “Hey, that guy’s checking out Elle.” No fucking way. Turning, he looked in the direction Ben indicated and sure enough, Marius Whatever-His-Fucking-Last-Name-Was was definitely checking out Elle. He wasn’t just checking her out; he was eating her up with his eyes. Having heard about Elle dropping him ten minutes after they’d been introduced, he shook his head. Poor fellow, poor, poor fellow, he thought…right before he laughed his motherfucking ass off. Wanting to know what was so funny, he stopped laughing long enough to explain the encounter to Ben…and then he too joined in on the laughter.

Chapter Three: To Elle and Back Elle had hardly got in the seat good before Twin One started the show. He didn’t touch her, but every look he gave her was hot enough to start a wildfire. Imagining how worked up Marius was getting got her hot and bothered. Knowing exactly where he was located, she opened her legs, ever so slightly. It wasn’t enough to flash him and half of Texas; it was just enough to make him wonder how tight her pussy’d be around his cock. On the verge of coming, she picked up her napkin and dabbed her forehead. “It appears that while you like my smoldering good looks, your target doesn’t,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. Smiling at him, she noted Marius’ approach. “I’d say you were absolutely right.” “Hello, Elle,” Marius said as he finally reached the table. “What’s up, Marius?” “Are you going to introduce me to your...acquaintance, Elle?” Twin One asked, putting just the right amount of menace and hotness into his question. Ah, he was good. Not once did he take his smoldering eyes off of her, much to Marius’ great annoyance. Elle bit the inside of her cheek to stop the

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grin from spreading across her face. While she couldn’t get Twin One an Oscar, she was so getting him one badass Christmas gift for this performance. “Yeah, of course. Borghild, this is Marius. Marius, this is—” Marius interrupted her before she could finish her introductions. “I don’t need to know his name, although you might need to know his blood type, because I’ll be spilling it if he doesn’t take his hand off you,” he threatened—although she wondered how he managed to push words out being that his jaw was clenched so hard, she was concerned he might crack his teeth. Marius’s deeply accented threat got to her. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the dangerous shine in his eyes. Besides her daddy, she’d never had a man get so riled up over her. It might be a total chick move, but she couldn’t help the heady sensation that coursed through her knowing she was the cause of his ire. Those words spoken with such violent passion went straight to her clit. It took everything in her not to sigh. “Who the fuck are you?” Chaos asked. Elle couldn’t help but smile. Trust her little sister to jump in when it was required, and being that almost all of her thoughts centered around impaling

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herself upon Marius’s man parts, Chaos needed to jump in. Turning his head, Marius looked at Chaos and commented. “You must be a relative of Elle’s.” Being that he’d used his usual charm (absolutely none), Chaos responded with her usual modesty (negative infinity). Before she could intervene, Chaos hit Marius with her trademark ‘fuck you’ expression. Now that Twin Two had entered her life, Chaos had a ‘fuck him’ expression on her face more often than not. “I’m her sister, which means I have a right to be here. What the fuck do you want, Austria?” “I’m from Luxembourg,” Marius corrected. “And I’m from Mississippi and I don’t give a fuck. What do you want?” Chaos asked again. “For you and Elle to take a course at finishing school, but being there are none in existence that’d take you, I guess I’ll have to settle on something lesser—like world peace.” Elle couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was funny, even if directed at her and Chaos. Always appreciating a good joke, Chaos joined her in her laughter. But while they thought it was funny, Twin One and Two failed to see the mirth. They were on their feet as quick as can be, facing off against Marius and another man who could only be an Ermenrich. Elle didn’t know about Chaos, but seeing all of that

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alpha in one place about to engage in an all out slobber-knocker on their behalf had her on the brink of coming. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but she was going to enjoy it…and from Chaos’ comment, so was her sister. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Grabbing her fork and digging into her dessert, Elle paused to ask a question. “Would it be too much to ask y’all to strip down to your skivvies before you battle it out?” “Ironic that Elle would make that particular request, considering she’s bare-assed under that skirt,” Chaos threw in all helpful like. Something about four big, fine motherfuckers standing toe-to-toe garnered a lot of attention. No telling what would’ve happened if not for Zeke and Rob. “From the anger swirling about, I’m guessing you’re making friends, Elle,” he said with a smile. “You know my style.” “I do, which is why I had to make sure, being I didn’t see a pickaxe or any other implement of death being used in your ‘neighborliness.’” “Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean there’s not one present.” “I second that,” Chaos said.

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“Not that I’m not glad to see you, Zeke, but you’re kind of interrupting the naked hot man throw down.” “You and your friend are kind of hot. Y’all can join in, and we can have a six-man throw down,” Chaos suggested. “Or, we can have two foursomes, with a Hamilton sister filling,” Elle suggested. “Yeah! Foursome! Foursome!” Chaos chanted. Getting into the spirit, Elle asked the ladies next to them if they’d like to see a hot, naked man smack down. Of course, they responded with a resounding “hell yeah.” All she’d done was ask one question, and the next thing she knew every single woman between the ages of eight and eighty (and a couple of men) in the restaurant stood up and started chanting, “Take it off!” as they waved bills at the guys. *** “Tell me again how we got talked into volunteering for the fundraiser?” Thurston looked at the other five guys. “That’d be your fiancée and her sister,” Marius answered. “And the ‘or jail’ choice the local police department gave us,” Rob added.

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“Oh yeah, that. It’s a good thing Chaos is with ATL Swat, or I’m guessing the only choice we would’ve been given was ‘private attorney or public defender,’” Borghild lamented. “I might be out of line here, but, um, it seems this whole thing could be solved if Marius stepped up to the plate and asked Elle out like he wants to,” Zeke said. Being that he threatened to kill me if I kept looking at her, I’m going to have to second that,” Wolfram said. “Ask her out or I will.” “And you will die,” Marius said. “That does it,” Thurston said. “One of you dare her to go out with Marius. She can’t resist a dare. And Marius, you have to actually go through with it.” “That leaves Marius facing all the danger,” Wolfram said. “Not really, because my brother is left dealing with Elle’s sister—who is SWAT and southern,” Borghild said. “True, but being that Chaos is over there fellating that straw and looking at you like she’s hungry, I’m going to guess your brother isn’t going to mind being ‘punished’ by his woman.” “And you would be right,” Thurston agreed as he looked over at Chaos and mouthed something x-rated.

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Working out the details and sprinkling in threats to Marius, the guys hatched out a plan that would see Marius and Elle alone…away from them…where they could get some blessed peace. *** “So, how bad do you want to fuck the Austrian?” “How bad does Auburn want to beat Alabama? How bad does UT want to beat Oklahoma? How bad does Carolina want to beat Duke? How bad does…” she continued. “Okay, I get it. If y’all didn’t have those pesky workplace rules, you’d totally…” “Spend all of my shift and half of someone else’s impaled on his cock.” “So what’s stopping you?” “I’m not sure if he wants me or if I’m just a way to pass the time. It’s not glam, but I like my job, Chaos. I can’t risk my reputation for one night of hot, steamy, no-holds-barred passion.” “You think he’d kiss and tell?” “I don’t think at all when I’m around him, so what if I’m misreading him?” “Though I just met him, I’d hedge my bets that not only would he kiss and tell; he’d kiss and broadcast that shit to all and sundry. And that’s not a

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bad thing. That man wants you, Elle, and not just for one night. He’s been clocking you since we strutted our badass selves in here. Man’s got a forty-dollar steak on his plate and left it to warn off Borghild. Borghild might be the quiet doctor type, but ain’t too many men trying to test that brother. Yet the Belgian stalked right over here and showed all those lovely manners he doesn’t have.” “Let’s talk about you, stroking Twin Two under the table like I wasn’t going to catch that.” “Wasn’t really trying to hide it. I like working him up,” Chaos admitted. “You breathing works that man up. He might be eating steak, but it’s clear you’re the meal he’d rather have on his plate.” “Yeah, well, I have good coochie,” Chaos said. “And Thurston has unbelievable dick. And you and your waffling is holding me up from getting more of it.” “Wow, what’s holding you up from getting some is the Dallas Police. Look at them over there, telling the guys off.” “Yeah, that too. Luckily, I’m part of the fraternity,” she said as she snatched Elle’s keys and got up. “Um, Chaos?” “Yes?”

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“What kind of shit are you getting ready to start?” “The kind that gets you laid, so shut up, wench, and pay for dinner, being you’re the one that started all this trouble.” *** “Hey, guys,” Chaos said as she walked up and wrapped her arms around her man. “What are you getting ready to do?” Thurston asked. “You, all night long if you’d stop bullshitting around.” Hearing his growl, she rubbed herself against his back. Damn, she wanted him again and then at least four times after that. Backing off of her man, she cleared her throat and addressed the guys. “Here’s the deal. I need to hear my man scream out my name like soon. Y’all have been over here ‘plotting,’ and still nothing’s happening.” “Actually, we’ve been talking our way out of misdemeanor charges,” Borghild corrected. “No talking when I have the floor. Now as I was saying, Austria, I know you want my sister but before you step to her, there’s two things you should know. One, if you ever—and I do mean ever—do anything—

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and I do mean anything—to hurt her—and I’m talking if she gets a hangnail—there’s a re-barreled Ruger #1T with your name all over it. Now if you think you can handle not fucking it up or fucking her over, and just fuck her, the limo driver is waiting outside the door. Oh, yeah, I wasn’t kidding when I said Elle wasn’t wearing any panties,” she said as she grabbed Thurston’s hand and dragged him off. *** One minute she was settling the bill; the next minute she was face-to-pecs with Marius. Yes, face to naked, hot, hard pecs with Marius because, unlike the other guys, he’d actually heeded her chant and taken it off. Well, maybe the small army of women pulling at him had more to do with his shirtless state than any desire on his part to give her something to ogle. She wanted more to ogle, but looking at all those hard ridges, she couldn’t help but think that was a damn good start. And then she couldn’t think at all because she made the mistake of looking into Marius’ eyes. “Marius,” she whispered. “Don’t say my name like that unless you plan on screaming it later,” he warned.

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Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she threw out a warning of her own. “Don’t hand me that caveat unless you’re man enough to back it up…several times.” “Several times is just an appetizer,” he said. “I’m a southern woman, so I want a full on meal.” “Wann ech gelift—at your service,” he said as he nipped her ear and pulled her close. “Not that I don’t like looking at your chest, but is there a reason you’re all up on me?” “Yep,” he said without elaborating. “Well?” she questioned. The rest of her question was cut off by her surprise. That motherfucker backed her into an alcove and, without so much as a by-yourleave, shoved two fingers into her pussy. Involuntarily, she gasped out her pleasure. Before she could alert the whole of Dallas that she was coming, Marius caught the sound in his mouth. Then he moved his fingers, and she came…and kept coming. “Marius,” she rasped. “Marius.” He didn’t answer her; he simply worked those fingers until she exploded all over his fingers once more. Consumed with pleasure the likes of which she’d never experienced, she had a hard time catching her breath. Marius’ breath tickled her ear. Seconds later, his words tickled everything within her.

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“Recall the first thing I said?” Not waiting for her to respond, he continued. “I said I was going to make you beg for my cock. Seeing that my hand’s covered in your sweet nectar, I figure that’s enough begging,” he said as he continued to squeeze her mons. “Remember the second thing I said I was going to do?” She shook her head ‘no’ and lifted her hips. “I said I was going to spank your ass for having such a smart mouth. And I will, but first, I’m going to spank your ass for not keeping my pussy properly covered. I’m a selfish bastard, Elle. I don’t share anything, least of all my woman.” “And when did I become your woman?” she sassed. “Elle, there wasn’t ever a time that you weren’t my woman. As soon as I saw you, you were mine. And just to drill it into you, I’m going to spend the rest of the night doing just that,” he said as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. “I can walk,” she protested seconds before she was tossed in the back of a limo. Moments later, Marius was climbing in behind her…and unfastening the buttons of his jeans. Oh shit. Reaching out to her, he pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. Straddling Marius was an experience in seduction. The feel of the big man beneath her was in itself enough to send her over the

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edge, but then there were all of those other delicious sensations. In the private compartment of the luxurious automobile, the world was narrowed down to just the two of them and the raw need that connected them. Though there was a lack of conversation, there wasn’t a lack of sound. Their heartbeats played percussion. Lub-dub, lub-dub, lubdub, lub-dub. The steady thrumming, complimenting bass for the medley of their moans, sharp inhales, sighs and gasps. Then there was the feel. She was almost overwhelmed with feeling. The feel of his heart thumping beneath his fingers…the heat of his velvety skin against hers…the scraping of the denim against her sensitive pussy…the insistent bulge of his hard cock grinding against her…the feel of his rough hands on her bare ass. She wanted to get closer to him, needed to get closer. Raking her hands through his thick brown hair, she rocked against him, rubbing herself against his hardness even as she thrust her ass back against his hands. A secret part of her reveled at the fact that his hands on her ass would leave marks. Marius spread his thighs, forcing her legs open wider and making the scent of her arousal obvious. “Tell me how much you want me,” he demanded. “Tell me in words what your body is screaming.”

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All she could do was moan in response, but it wasn’t enough for Marius. Smacking her ass, he repeated his question. “Say it. Admit that you want me. Admit that you’ve always wanted me,” he growled. Stripping off her t-shirt, she wasn’t in the mind to do shit with her lips that didn’t involve his lips, his hot, velvety skin, or his cock. Reaching around to unclasp her bra, his growl stopped her. “It’s my present. I get to unwrap it.” “Then unwrap it and stop fucking around,” she gasped. She gasped because suddenly his hot mouth was busy suckling her breasts. He wasn’t gentle. He used teeth and tongue. Combined with his stubble, it pushed her closer to the precipice. She was almost there when he pushed her over the edge. Then his hands—his glorious, strong, wide-palmed, callused hands—took hold of her and worked pure magic. Pulling her across his lap, he pulled her skirt up and smacked her ass. And then he smacked it again…and again…and again…and again. Her ass was on fire, but all she could do was push her ass back to meet his spanks. She liked to be dominated, and Marius was doing it without even trying. Dominant by nature, he handled her so damn good. And then it got better. He lifted her so she was once again straddling him. Shoving a thick finger in

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her pussy, he spanked her ass in tandem with his fingering. His seduction was choreographed perfectly. A good student, she had no choice but to give him the response he demanded. She wasn’t just a student, though; she was a woman who knew what she wanted. What she wanted was this motherfucker…right, damn now. Reaching down, she cupped the prominent bulge through his jeans before reaching in only to discover that like her, he was commando. His sharp intake of breath didn’t deter her—it simply spurred her on. What’s good for the goose…and all that, she thought. Increasing her pressure, she stroked him from base to tip, smiling at how long that journey took. Marius Ermenrich was a whole lot of man. His next actions proved that he was her kind of man. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her up and took her lips in a savage kiss before leaning back and directing her head lower. “Suck me.” Two words. Two words that had her coming rivers. Licking her way down his chest, she didn’t waste any time before tasting him. *** Closing his eyes, Marius gritted his teeth even as he tightened his grip on Elle’s hair. Exhaling sharply,

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he forced himself to breathe through his nose lest he pass out from oxygen deprivation. No woman had ever threatened his control. No woman had ever come close to threatening his control. Then there was Elle Hamilton, who blew his control and almost all of his common sense all to hell. And the scary part? She’d accomplished that without trying. He was never going to let her go, never. The sooner Elle realized she was going to be Dr. Elle Hamilton Ermenrich, the better. Knowing her, she’d be contrary about it, but he was an Ermenrich male, thus he was used to contrary women. Before he could finish his thought, Elle slid her tongue along the head of his cock. Oh damn, her tongue was magic. Oh damn, this woman was his. Arching his hips off the seat, he watched as Elle wrapped her succulent lips around the head and swallowed him. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, the most devastating thing he’d ever felt. And then she worked her way down the length until she reached the base, and he was done. Dangerously close to spilling, he jerked her up. He was going to spill, but it wasn’t going to be right now. He had to take some of the control back. Picking her up, he laid her on the cushions and knelt between her legs. Marius didn’t rush. He had no need to. Performing a thorough scan of Elle’s skin from her lips to her navel, he reached the treasure that would be his

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for the rest of his life—her heart—and paused. Ever so slightly, he bowed his head before resuming his journey. When he came to her belly, he paused again and rested his forehead there. He did nothing but breathe in her scent. Slowly, he ran his tongue over her soft skin, committing the taste to memory. Before the night was finished, he would know her scent and taste better than he knew his own skin. Spreading her wide, he inhaled deeply before running his tongue across her pink sweetness. There were things he was good at, and eating pussy was at the top of his list—right after making money (fifty million Euros and counting), and looking handsome. He brushed against Elle’s quivering belly before diving his tongue into her. He licked, nipped and stroked her to orgasm within moments. And thirty seconds later he licked, nipped and stroked her to another one…and another…and another. He enjoyed hearing her scream out his name. He especially enjoyed it when she added “motherfucker” to his name. Still, he wasn’t satisfied until she added in the choruses of “please, please, please” to her request-demand. Only then did he give her what she wanted. Sitting back, he settled her atop him. Looking into her glazed eyes, he waited until he had her full attention. “Mine,” he declared as he slammed into her.

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Her moans were music to his ears, yet they were almost drowned out by the sound of his blood crashing in his ears. Elle was so tight, so silky, so hot…so his. “Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me that this pussy is mine, has always been mine, will always be mine. Tell me your heart is mine. Tell me.” “Yours,” she gasped out. He should’ve been satisfied with her response, but he wasn’t. Women had been telling him those things since he was in high school. They’d liked what his cock did, his tongue did, his money did. They’d liked how they looked next to him. They’d liked how they looked in his sports car, on his yacht, in his jet. They’d liked him too much, too perfectly, too insincerely. And then there was Elle. Elle, who screamed “no” at him instead of purring “yes.” Elle, who threw left hooks at him instead of her sex. Elle, who brought him to his knees with oversized wrenches instead of with crocodile tears. Elle, who garnered the attention of males by working her sexy ass off in the classroom and in the oil fields instead of showcasing her ass in skimpy clothes and her breasts in tight shirts. Placing a finger under her chin, he gently took her lips. “Tell me and mean it, Elle. Tell me you’re mine and mean it.”

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Like the contrary woman she was, she told him something completely different. “You tell me first, motherfucker.” Smiling, he did just that. “I’m yours, Elle. I’m yours.” “Damn straight, Marius. You’re mine. Now shut up and enjoy the best pussy you’ve ever had,” she said as she grinded down on him. *** Elle heard every word Marius said. She felt them harder. Marius Ermenrich, motherfucker extraordinaire, meant every single one of his words. He meant every single one of his touches. He meant every single one of his responses. She reveled in it all. She reveled in Marius, who didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t an asshole, who didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t interested in her. He’d worn his interest like the state of Texas wore its love for football. The crew had teased her about it. Even Mr. Fionnlaogh had asked her when she was going to put that boy out of his misery. Apparently, the answer was right now. Marius had gotten to her. And he was getting to her so good right now. His touch branded her as his. He bathed her in his scent. He honored her with his need. As he

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stroked into her with a power she felt all the way to her core, she clenched her thighs and threw everything she had at him. And beautiful, arrogant, alpha male that he was…he threw it back tenfold. Just when she accustomed herself to his powerful thrusts, he amped it up and threw it back a hundredfold. At six feet plus and two hundred pounds, she’d never had a man she couldn’t handle. Seeing the intense look on Marius’ face, feeling his purposeful touch, she realized she’d never had a man…until Marius. A maestro, he played her body so perfectly. Every touch caused her to shiver; every stroke caused her to come; every word from his beautiful, tempting mouth caused her to believe. “Harder,” she demanded. He complied. “Faster,” she begged. He complied. “More,” she requested. And he gave her everything, and they both shattered. His roar, her scream, and their thundering heartbeats combined to make a symphony that should’ve been played by the Dallas Philharmonic…during halftime at the Super Bowl. She had nothing left—nothing—and from the look in his eyes, neither did he. They’d both left everything on the field, and they’d both finished as victors.

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“Marius,” she whispered. “Elle,” he rasped as he took her lips. Moments later, the limousine pulled to a stop. Tucking her breasts back into her bra, Marius reached over and grabbed her shirt off the seat and re-dressed her. From the look on his face, it was done reluctantly. “Clothes should never be between us,” he said. Smiling, she went to crawl off of him when she realized that Marius was still hard. His hands on his hips stopped her movement. “No, I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” Toeing off his sneakers, he lifted his hips and shimmied out of his jeans. It was done jerkily but done nevertheless, prompting her to ask, “Done this a lot?” “I’m a handsome man, so I’m naked as often as possible,” he smart-mouthed. “Almost naked,” she commented. “The socks ruin the picture. Take them off.” Doing so, he pressed the intercom and spoke to the driver. “Ms. Seville, can I ask another favor?” “Of course, sir,” the driver responded. Coming around, Marius handed her his house keys. “If you would, would you unlock my house? As you can see, I have a handful.” Laughing, Ms. Seville responded. “I noticed that your lady was a handful straight off, sir. I was worried

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you wouldn’t be able to handle her, but from what I heard, my worries were for naught.” Before Elle could be offended, Ms. Seville winked at her and gave her a thumbs-up before walking away to unlock Marius’ house. “Done, sir, and seeing how you’re, um, without most of your clothes, I’m going to close my eyes until you walk into the house. I’ll gather your clothes and set them beside the door before leaving.” Elle was thinking how thoughtful Ms. Seville was, and then Marius started moving. It took some doing, but he managed to get them both out of the limo without separating them or dropping her. Straightening to his full height, he walked his naked ass to the front door. It was a slow walk, but a sensuous one. It was only once they were inside and she came face-to-face with a large clock that she realized their driver had done the impossible: gotten them across Dallas in forty minutes. Later, she was going to thank Twin Two for having the foresight to hire a limo to ferry him and Chaos around the big D. And then she was going to check her truck and make sure Chaos hadn’t done any lasting damage to it. Right after that, she was going to send that hot-ass Ms. Seville a big, fat bonus. When Marius had panted out to get her to his house with all due haste, that sister took him at face value. Godiva

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Seville might look like she should be spread-eagled in the center of a men’s magazine, but she drove that limo like it was a McLaren MP4-21, and worked I-20 like it was a fucking Grand Prix. Yeah, she was getting a bonus, and later she was going to take a look under the hood of that limo. Later—much, much later, she thought as she spread her legs wider and thrust her pussy deeper into Marius’ mouth.

Epilogue: More Elle than He Can Handle The Otherwordly Private Hospital, Charlikan, Vermont…exactly nine months later It was him calling her by her first name that caused her to go into labor. She was sure of it. That was why she would have to kill maim him. She’d kill him later, in eighteen years, after their baby was grown because she didn’t have the patience to be a single mom. Hell, she’d hardly had the patience to be pregnant. And she wouldn’t have been pregnant if Marius would’ve stayed on his side of the steakhouse. Yeah, she was totally ignoring her part in all this and conveniently placing all of the blame on him. She was allowed, and Dr. Subira Washington-Vidar had backed her up…and being she wore scrubs and a gun, the doctor’s word was law. Elle liked that kind of law, especially when it came from a woman who looked like she fought crime in between delivering babies. And maybe she did; after all, she and her three sisters owned the hospital, the whole northeastern part of the town of Charlikan, and the neighboring town of Rivé, Vermont. Yeah, Dr. Subira was the shiznit—and Chaos’ mother-in-law, which was why she was giving birth in Vermont instead of Texas. She wouldn’t have any need to be outside of the south if her sister could stay off of Twin Two’s cock for two seconds…and have a baby on time. Of course,

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she’d yelled that thought as another contraction hit. Of course, being a heartless bitch, Chaos yelled right at her through the door. “Maybe if you’d worn some damn panties in the steakhouse and didn’t have your titties served up on a platter, Marius wouldn’t have spent all weekend planted inside of you.” Ah, that’d been a good time. Of course, Marius had wanted to extend that good time into the workweek, but she’d put her foot down—after she’d unwrapped it from around his neck. She had never missed a day of work and she wasn’t going to, despite how good the dick was…and damn, was it good. It was so, so good—not that she cared about that, because that was how she’d ended up in this condition. All married and pregnant and able to speak conversational Letzebuergesch. Asshole. Motherfucker, bastard, son-of-a-bitch. Okay, so she might have to take back the ‘bastard’ description, being that she’d met his mother. A lovely Texan, she had no idea what had convinced her to leave Texas for Luxembourg…and then she’d seen Mr. Ermenrich. Hludowig Ermenrich was a handsome, distinguished man…whom she’d wanted to throw in a chokehold two seconds into meeting him. And she might’ve if the rest of the Ermenrich males hadn’t entered the room and turned it into wall-to-

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wall asshole. She didn’t know whose ass she wanted to kick first, and last, and the most. She had no idea how Ms. Baylor put up with the Ermenrich men (including her own son). And then she’d taken her on a tour of their palatial estate. It wasn’t exactly a tour, being that his momma had only shown her one thing: the sparring room. Standing in the center of the room was a wall of big motherfuckers. They all looked like they should’ve been on the Cowboys’ O-line. Stepping up to them, she’d bowed and in ten seconds flat had all five of them on their backs, panting. Not caring about Luxembourg customs, she’d jumped up and down and cheered like Baylor had scored the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. Go Ms. Baylor! Go Ms. Baylor! Go Ms. Baylor! she’d cheered. Turning to the guys, she’d pointed her fingers at them and pronounced that they’d gotten their asses kicked. “Don’t think about saying nothing, because I can have Marius’ mom come back over here,” she said as she’d followed the laughing woman to her study. Baylor had handed her an ice-cold Coke, and after toasting, she’d pointed to her wall. It was in that moment she’d been glad for stain-resistant carpet, because she sure as shit dropped that bottle in her mad scramble to get a closer look at the three swords on the wall. She knew her mouth was hanging open;

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she simply hoped she wasn’t drooling, although if she was, who cared? Turning back to Baylor, she just pointed. “Three times! Three times!” “Actually, five, the other two swords are in the bedroom…you know, so I can remind my husband why he shouldn’t fuck with me, fuck me over, fuck off on me.” She smiled. And Elle returned her smile and then went over and hugged the crazy, badass woman. “I’m not marrying Marius for his money; I’m marrying him for the mother-in-law,” she said. “Well, having been me for over fifty years, I can understand that,” she said. Knowing kumites (underground no-holdsbarred mixed martial arts tournaments held in secret) were only held once every five years, she asked. “How old were you when you won your first kumite?” “Twenty, and I was forty when I won my last one.” And what did you say to that? Especially when the one saying it had been badass for such a long time. You said what any Texan would say: Yee-haw, Motherfuckers. That story always made her feel good, and she’d needed to think on it at least once a day every day since she’d married that motherfucker. Oh damn,

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soon as she had this baby, it’d be literal. She’d be a mother, and being that she planned on fucking Marius a whole lot (hey, it was her reward for putting up with his bastardy ass), he was going to be a motherfucker. But until such time, he was simply a metaphorical motherfucker. A motherfucker who’d gotten her pregnant, and then caused her to lose her job. She wasn’t even a full week late before he’d marched her to the Ob/Gyn to get a pregnancy test. Of course, that som’bitch had come back positive. And in five minutes, her whole life had changed. Marius had called Mr. Fionnlaogh and told him she wouldn’t be back. Of course, she’d gotten through to him first and told Mr. Fionnlaogh to ignore everything Marius said. “Are you with child, little girl?” he’d asked. As soon as she’d said yes, he’d asked for her to put him on speaker. She did, and the sound of a hammer being pulled back filled the room. “She’s married or you go missing, boy. At this rate, you might go missing just on GP for putting your filthy hands on her. Elle, I don’t want to see your behind anywhere near these oil fields until you’re safely delivered of child.” And then there’d been dial tone. Marius had used that time to call Chaos and ask for her blessings on their nuptials…and then her first name. And the

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bitch had told him, which was why she was at the top of the list of people’s asses she was going to kick after she had her baby. The sun didn’t even get a chance to set before he’d had all of the required documents for them to marry. Well, he could have all the documents he wanted and all the money in the world. He still needed her momma and daddy to sign off on that. Janan and Oxford Hamilton might be missionaries, but they were parents first and thus, they’d kick some ass if they had to. It’d taken him a month of Sundays, but he’d gotten their “yeah, okay,” followed by an assload of “don’t fuck up”s from her daddy, who wasn’t too keen on the fact that Marius was foreign, white and had a penis. Her next contraction jarred her out of her happy place. Well, it was either the pain or Marius with his freaking “ra, ra” cheering. Turning to the doctor, who’d just instructed her to push—again—she started cussing. “You know what? I hate all of y’all. Get out!” she said. Using the last of her energy, she screamed out the names of the three most dangerous people she knew: her momma, her sister, and her momma-inlaw. They bumrushed the door in two seconds flat.

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“Can y’all please beat somebody? I shouldn’t be the only one in pain!” she panted. “You’re the only one who’s a whore, so yeah, you should,” Chaos said around the lamb gyro she was stuffing in her face. “Wait, why does she get food?” she asked her doctor. “And you should talk about whoredom being ten months pregnant with twins, Chaos,” she shouted even as she grabbed for the snack. “At least I have food,” Chaos taunted. “Yeah, but do you have an oil tanker named after you?” she taunted. “No, but who the hell gave you an oil tanker?” Chaos demanded. “Papa Hludowig, as reparation for marrying Marius.” “That’s not fair. I want an oil tanker too,” Chaos whined. “Well, it looks like we’re at what the locals call an impasse. I want some of that gyro, and you want some of my oil tanker,” she said, staring Chaos right in the eye. Of course Chaos couldn’t be punked, so she returned her stare without blinking. No telling how long their stare down would’ve lasted if their momma hadn’t grown tired of their bickering. “Chaos, give your sister half that gyro, now.”

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“Ha ha,” she said as she waited while Chaos made a production out of breaking off half of the gyro. Her relief was short-lived, because a few seconds later her momma busted her bubble. “Melee Elle, share your oil tanker with your sister.” “Yessssssssssssssssss,” Chaos yelled. “The Chaos Elle sounds like a mighty fine name to me.” “In your dreams. It was my tanker first, so my name’s going first.” “Yeah, but then it’s going to sound like a storm front. The Elle Chaos just sounds stupid.” “Fine then, it’s the Melee Chaos, but you have to name your helicopter after me.” “Fine,” she said, “but only because you’re my favorite sister.” “I’m like the only person who likes you,” she corrected. “Probably, but who gives a shit? You, me, our momma, our momma-in-laws, that’s all we need to take over the world.” Chaos’ speech almost brought a tear to her eye. Real tears did come to her eyes when Chaos pulled a Coke out of somewhere and held the icy beverage up to her lips. Bless Chaos’ beat-somebody-unconscious heart, she thought as she took a sip. Through it all, Dr. Subira just went about her business of instructing her to push, breathe, and stop beating Marius, until finally

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her baby girl came sliding and screaming right into Marius’ big, capable hands. Knowing her baby girl couldn’t be in better hands, she slumped back on the pillows and called out a demand. “Food, stat! And lots of it!” Of course, being southern, her momma had a plate of fried everything right there at the ready. *** The snoring woke her. Not even bothering to open her eyes, she voiced her displeasure. “Woman who just pushed something ten pounds and six ounces out of her body trying to get some sleep.” The rest of her complaint was kissed off of her lips as Marius pulled her closer to him and readjusted the covers over them. He could do that because her room boasted a king-sized bed with the plushest mattress she’d ever lain on. There wasn’t any such thing as a bare-bones room at the Otherworldly Private Hospital. Every room put five-star hotels to shame…not that she was complaining. Chaos had all but dragged her to Vermont so that she could give birth here. Considering the superb care she’d received, she was reconsidering giving her sister that beat down she had coming. Snuggling deeper into Marius, she sighed. “I hope that sigh is for me,” he said in her ear.

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“Actually, it was for that sweet potato pie my momma made,” she sassed. “Well, it was a good pie, but not as impressive as the beautiful baby girl that I made,” he said all arrogant like. Opening her eyes, she looked over at their sleeping baby girl in the crib next to her. She was perfect—just perfect. “She’s perfect, Marius,” she agreed. “Thank goodness for those Hamilton genes,” she said just to needle him. He chuckled in response. Leaning over to kiss her, he asked, “I seem to recall you telling me the only way you’d procreate with me was for hell to freeze over. Is it frozen over?” “Could be,” she agreed. “After all, we do have a black president.” “You know that is so not politically correct,” he said. “Which is exactly why I said it.” “So, your sister’s name is Chaos. Your first name is Melee. Are we going to continue the tradition and name our beautiful angel Turmoil?” “I know you didn’t just bring up my first name,” she accused. “I did, but it’s only fair being that you bring up my cock every time you walk into the room, every time you speak a word, every time I think of you.”

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She had a comeback—really, she did—but she swallowed it because after a compliment like that, there was only one thing she could do. Turning in his arms, she looked him in the eye right before kissing him breathless. Pulling back, she reached down and stroked him. “Five weeks...,”she said as she squeezed him. “Elle,” he rasped. His sharp intake of breath only served to spur her on. Lifting his shirt, she leaned down and licked his nipple. “…six days.” Feeling him tremble had her inner diva patting herself on the back. “…and it’s on like neck bones. I’m going to be all over you like white on…well, you,” she sassed. She’d barely got her taunt out when she found her hands trapped within his. “If we go to Luxembourg, it’ll be five weeks and five days,” he said as he took her lips. “I like the way your mind works.” **J and J**

Meet the Players: Dréa and Laura: Serving it up Texas-style, Laura Guevara and Dréa Riley are two sassy, sexy and sinfully hot ladies who have come together to bring their literary talents to the table of hot romance literature. What follows is a full-course meal of alpha males, strong, intelligent females, and mouthwatering romance of the sensual ilk. Laura is gonna bring the country-flavored, south-of-the-border spiciness and combine it with Dréa’s chocolate-inspired, vanilla-coated sweet goodies for some appetizing morsels of stories. They live far apart in two separate Texas towns, and for their families, the state of Texas and the rest of the free world, this could be a good thing. No telling what kind of mayhem Laura’s family and Dréa’s cowboy would have to rescue them from on a daily basis if they resided any closer to one another. Poor Dee Ooh Gee (promise that’s his name) would never get to see his “momma” Dréa because she’d be off riding with Laura in her pick-up truck, setting it off whilst in search of a tall glass of cowboy alpha male for Laura. Poor little dog would have even more attitude than he has now! When not regaling the MF Posse with their stories of chaos and mischief, these two ladies spend their free time reading and composing smoking-hot literature and taking care of their families. Each brings their own skill sets and interests to their individual and partnered stories. Dréa likes to cook, Laura is an adventurer at heart, and you may gain further insight into these two ladies through their stories. So pull up your chair, grab your silverware, tuck your napkins (cause ya’ definitely gonna be drooling) and prepare to dine on the feast of saucy, spicy, sweet literary servings of these warm and funny writers. Hint: Wear loose clothing!

Drea: [email protected] Laura: [email protected] Both: [email protected]

Jeanie Johnson and Jayha Leigh Besides being intelligent divas who pen kickass prose, Jeanie (the shagalicious wordslinger) and her momma, Jayha (the ninja master of prose), are dessert-eating, take-no-shit, tell-it-like-they-feel instead of tell-it-like-people-want-to-hearit women. They are women who have brains and aren’t afraid to use them; feelings and aren’t afraid to express them; and, middle fingers which they’ll happily use to salute out of line peeps. Independently, both are forces of nature that leave you begging for mercy or begging for more. A kickass tag team duo bound together by the pen, they plan on ruling the world side-by-side. Jeanie will be ruling in her favorite hoodie and her Chuck Taylors; Jayha will be wearing her Crocs, a blue t-shirt along with her halo. Of course, all ruling will be done swiftly as Jeanie is always out getting into sh*t and Jayha is busy indulging in her torrid affair with ESPN. Praises, compliments, adulation and the like for J and J can be left at: [email protected]