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Done With Boring Guys
Chapter One
Kayla’s search for Mr. Right was failing miserably. One third into the way of her date with Frank McIntire she already knew that it was a failure. This guy had so many flaws that she could fill an entire journal. He ate with the wrong fork, his tie had a terribly done knot in it. He didn’t even work in an interesting industry -- he was a financial analyst for some corporation and Kayla couldn’t make heads or tails of anything he said related to his job.
Some date. She’d been set up on his unfortunate affair by using this paid dating app. Kayla couldn’t believe that she’d paid money to get a chance to meet guys like this. Stanford was right about online dating being a waste of time.
“So Kayla… It must be cool being a therapist.”
Kayla tried to hide the bored look on her face.
“It’s riveting.”
“So, tell me more about what it’s like having your own private practice and all.”
Kayla knew she should at least try.
“Well I started my private practice when I was twenty-eight. So it’s been steady sailing for the past nine years.”
“Putting you at… thirty-six?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady about her age?” Kayla replied with a smile.
Frank blushed.
“Sorry, it’s just that you don’t look a day over twenty-seven.”
Kayla couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe Frank did have some redeeming qualities. At least he was trying his hardest to compliment her. After a few more minutes of forced conversation, Kayla excused herself from the table to go to the bathroom. She needed a break from all of this. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing all the things wrong about Frank.
Her best friend Joanna had warned her that this over-critical tendency of hers would force her to end up single. Kayla disagreed. She was a strong, independent woman of thirty-six who was at the top of her career. She didn’t need to settle for a man just to feel validated. And sure, Frank had money too but he was just missing a special something.
In the bathroom, Kayla adjusted her updo. Her thick, natural 4c hair was braided in a halo around her head. After her big chop six years prior, Kayla had been growing out her long thick hair and trying to love her natural strands just the way they were. She fussed with her hair in the mirror for a while, unsure if she was being a perfectionist or just doing everything in her power to get time away from Frank.
Kayla pulled out her phone and considered texting her best friend Joanna. However, what Joanna would say was almost too predictable for her to even bother. Joanna would urge her to stop being so judgmental and to give this guy a chance. A chance for what?
Instead, Kayla chose to reapply her lipstick. She wore a deep oxblood shade that looked phenomenal on her dark, mahogany colored skin. The lipstick also highlighted the dark brown — almost black — color of her eyes. Kayla’s round face and apple cheeks glistened in the fluorescent light of the restaurant bathroom.
“I look fine. I look great,” Kayla affirmed herself in the mirror.
She sighed before leaving the bathroom, knowing that she was about to face the rest of her terrible date with Frank The Analyst.
When she returned Frank greeted her with a smile. Kayla couldn’t ignore his crooked bottom teeth that made his otherwise appealing face unattractive in her eyes.
“I went ahead and ordered dessert. Chocolate for my sweet dark chocolate.”
Kayla resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Didn’t white guys get tired of always comparing black women to chocolate? Kayla really didn’t think it was too much to ask for more from a man. All she wanted was a nice, rich man who could live up to her standards. Kayla didn’t want a “fixer-upper” in the least. She could tell just from looking at Frank that’s exactly what he would be.
“Well, it just so happens I love chocolate.”
Frank grinned, “So do I.”
Kayla cringed internally. She hoped that Frank didn’t think his corny and borderline offensive lines were actually working on her. Dating in this city was an absolute nightmare. As Kayla got closer and closer to forty, things got even worse. Even men ten years her senior assumed there was something “wrong” with her for not being married. Kayla could barely begin to wrap her mind around the hypocrisy.
“So… Kayla Williams… Tell me more about your family.”
“What do you want to know Frank.”
Frank shrugged, “What’s your ethnicity?”
“Black.”
“African American?”
“Sure. But my dad’s Jamaican. He died when I was twenty-seven.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He was a good man but… it’s all in the past now.”
Frank reached his hand across the table and rested it on Kayla’s arm.
“You don’t have to have so many walls up,” He said.
Kayla raised her eyebrows in surprise. Who was Frank to tell her how guarded she should be after almost twenty years of dating in a harsh city like this one?
Kayla replied in a snarky tone, “Well thanks for your permission Frank.”
“No problem,” He responded with not a hint of irony.
At this point, Kayla was forcing herself to feel some sort of chemistry with Frank. She tried to empty her mind of the hundreds of criticisms of him that had run through it and see the positives. He had a good job. He came from money — even if it was inherited. He could afford fancy restaurants. He had nice, gray eyes.
As much as she tried to fixate on the positives, Kayla couldn’t let go of the fact that Frank just wasn’t her type. The chemistry between them was forced at best and entirely non-existent at worst. How could her dating site have been so wrong?
Dessert came and Kayla found herself half-listening to Frank explain the entire recent recession and its impact on small business owners on the East Coast. He didn’t seem to care about whether or not Kayla found the whole thing interesting. And to be sure — she didn’t.
Instead, Kayla was thinking about her patients and how she would spend the next week. She had a twenty-year-old NYU student who was suffering from depression because her forty-year-old boyfriend and professor dumped her to go back to his wife. She had an executive with over sixty people underneath her suffering from alcohol abuse and unmanageable anxiety. Kayla also had an interracial gay couple who needed her help navigating their new marriage.
There was a lot to keep Kayla’s mind occupied. There always was. It was one of the reasons she’d always found dating so hard. How could a man keep her titillated constantly when her job was such a source of stimulation and energy for her? It was almost an impossible task.
Frank was still talking. Kayla was almost finished her her chocolate mousse. As Frank had promised, it was divine. She supposed that his taste in food was another positive trait of his.
“Kayla, is all of this going over your head?” Frank finally stopped to check in with her.
Kayla shrugged, “It’s all very fascinating Frank. Can’t say I’ve heard such an in depth take before.”
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
Kayla just shook her head. She knew it was rude to tell a man that he was boring on a date.
Frank answered, “Alright then. Well Kayla, I’m curious about your experience with painting. It’s certainly a common hobby in a city like this.”
“Well, I picked up oil painting in college and I’ve been painting ever since really. Before my dad died we went to Jamaica together and I spent a lot of time painting the mountains, the beach and the waterfalls near our place.”
“Wow. Jamaica must be incredible. So there’s a different language there, isn’t there?”
Kayla knew Frank’s ignorance wasn’t his own fault.
“Patwa,” Kayla said.
Frank nodded, even if it was clear he still had no idea what that meant.
“And what about reggae? Is anyone in your family a singer?”
Kayla chuckled — she was more laughing at Frank than with him.
“Does anyone in your family sing Country music?”
“Huh?”
Kayla continued, “Well, that’s pretty much what you’re asking me. Jamaica might be a small country but there’s more to it than reggae music.”
“Right.”
“Anyways, my father was Jamaican, not my mother. I grew up here. I only feel Jamaican sometimes…”
Kayla’s disconnect with one of her homelands was a sore subject for her. With her father’s passing, she felt like her chances of getting to know Jamaica were even slimmer. Of course, Frank would more than kill his chances with her by bringing up the painful subject of her estranged homeland.
“How did you know you wanted to be a therapist?” Frank asked again.
Kayla answered, “They say that it’s always the most screwed up people who take an interest in psychology. What do you think of that?”
“I think there’s no way in hell you’re as screwy as some of the people in this city.”
Kayla laughed.
“Good answer.”
Again, she was hot and cold with Frank. The chemistry was nonexistent but he had his moments too.
With dessert finished, the waitress brought the bill.
“Half-half?” Kayla asked.
“No,” Frank said insistently, “I know these are modern times but a man must still have some sense of chivalry.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
Frank slipped his card into the leather book and Kayla waited impatiently for the date to be over.
“Any chance we could cap it off with a drink at your place?”
Now came the uncomfortable part. Kayla knew this time she was doing a terrible job at hiding her grimace.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea Frank. I’ve got patients first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Right. Sorry. Well maybe I could see you again.”
Kayla smiled, knowing that she would be screening Frank’s calls like it was her day job.
“Of course Frank. Call me at the office tomorrow because I need to see how my schedule will work out this week.”
“God, it’s so sexy to meet a woman who can fend for themselves.”
“Are most women you meet helpless?”
“Shockingly.”
“Hm.”
“What, did something I say bother you?”
Kayla didn’t know where to begin.
“I guess it’s a big assumption that most women you meet are helpless. Kind of judgmental, don’t you think?”
Frank shrugged, “Not really. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that a woman have an established career and apartment once she’s in her thirties.”
“I see.”
“Hey listen Kayla, let me walk you to your car.”
“I took a cab.”
“I’ll hail one for you then.”
Frank insisted upon linking his arm in Kayla’s as he walked her to the street. The meal had been delicious but the date had been lukewarm. Frank’s judgmental little comment hadn’t gone unnoticed either.
He hailed a cab and then turned Kayla’s body towards his. Frank’s grey eyes stared into hers. Kayla was too intimidated to make eye contact.
“I know you’re playing hard to get but damn it Kayla, you’re irresistible,” Frank muttered.
He pulled Kayla close and shocked her with a deep, wet kiss on the lips. Kayla pulled away and Frank dragged her close, kissing her again. Kayla let him kiss her and she let his hands wander over her wide hips and grope her ass.
When Frank pulled away from her finally, he was grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll see you again soon.”
Kayla got into her cab and breathed a sigh of relief. At least her date was finally over. She couldn’t believe that Joanna had convinced her this website would be worth it when it absolutely wasn’t! All she’d done was waste her time with yet another judgmental New York City freak with nothing to offer her besides free food and boring conversation about their menial jobs.
Kayla called Joanna, begging her to come over to her place and have a margarita. She needed to discuss everything that had gone down with Frank.
By the time Kayla got to her apartment, Joanna was already hovering around outside. Kayla and Joanna looked similar enough to be sisters. They were both short and incredibly thick with wide bulging hips and large bums and breasts. Kayla had natural hair but Joanna wore her hair in long Senegalese twists or thick braids like the dancehall artist Patra. While Kayla was half Jamaican, Joanna’s parents were both immigrants straight from Portmore and Joanna had inherited all of their island flare.
“Girl! I want to get a drink and find out more about your worst date ever!” Joanna said loudly.
Everything Joanna said was loud; her personality contrasted Kayla’s more soft spoken demeanor. Kayla rode the elevator up to the 50th floor with Joanna and unlocked the front door to her apartment. Inside, Kayla’s apartment was anally neat. She believed that everything had a place and living alone, she was able to maintain her high standards.
“It always smells so sterile in here…” Joanna commented.
“The moscato’s in the fridge, I’ve gotta change out of this dress!” Kayla called to her best friend.
“I thought you said margaritas!” Joanna yelled.
Kayla didn’t say anything back. She knew that the promise of tequila was the one thing that could get Joanna out of bed after 8 p.m.
Kayla went into her bedroom and undressed before the mirror. Nope, there was no way in hell Frank could handle all of this as well as he thought he could. He was fishing way out of his league and Kayla wasn’t foolish enough to settle for him.
Kayla slipped into a pair of black leggings that hugged her figure tightly and a loose athletic tank top. Kayla appreciated the shift in outfit; she hated nothing more than wearing an uncomfortable sexy dress on a date with a guy she didn’t even like.
Joanna had poured the moscato and Kayla joined her on the couch.
“So… What was wrong with Frank? He looked fine as hell in his profile pictures!”
Kayla sighed and downed half her glass of moscato, “He looked fine but looks aren’t everything. Plus, two of his bottom teeth were crooked.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me Kayla.”
“I’m not!” Kayla exclaimed, “And he used his dessert fork to eat dinner.”
“Girl, you trippin’,” Joanna laughed.
Kayla replied, “I’m not. I don’t see why people always think black women have to settle.”
Joanna rolled her eyes, “Here we go again. Who said anything about black women?”
“I’m just making a point Joanna. People always want me to settle.”
“It’s not about settling Kayla. It’s about accepting people for who they are and not being so critical!”
“Critical? Who’s critical?” Kayla interjected, “Frank’s the guy at the end of the date who said I was sexy because other women were so helpless!”
“You’re a hypocrite Kayla.”
“No, I’m not. He’s an asshole.”
Joanna poured herself a second glass of moscato.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kayla.”
Kayla clicked her teeth, “Listen Joanna… You don’t have a man either so stop criticizing me!”
“I’m also six years younger than you. And Pierre counts, even if he’s in France.”
Kayla shot her friend a glare. She didn’t appreciate reminders that she was approaching forty and even if she’d done so much with her life, her family wouldn’t leave her alone. They always introduced her as “single Aunty Kayla” or “unmarried Aunty Kayla” at every family event. When Kayla’s brother had married a financial manager named Milan, that officially left Kayla as the only one of her siblings who was unmarried.
It wasn’t a position that she relished.
“Listen, I want to get married but it has to be to the right guy. There’s no point in trying to make things work when I know that isn’t going to end badly!”
“But you won’t give any guy a chance!”
Kayla sighed, “Frank was boring Joanna. How many more lukewarm dates can a girl sit through?”
“Well, what did you do to make the date less boring?”
Kayla scoffed.
“Like that’s my job. I’m attractive, own my own business and I have a huge apartment all to myself. It’s a guy’s job to see how he can impress me.”
Joanna rolled her eyes again, “I don’t know what on earth I’m going to do with you. Anyways, I’m still sort of dating Pierre. Our relationship is long distance.”
“Another French man?”
It was Joanna’s turn to shoot Kayla a glare this time.
“Don’t you judge him already!”
“The last guy you dated from outside of the country abandoned your ass in the Turks & Caicos.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Joanna said sheepishly.
Kayla chuckled, “If that’s what you want to call it. You’re the most optimistic person that I know.”
“When it comes to love, the only thing that pays off is optimism.”
“No way. The only thing that pays off is sticking to your values.”
“You have too many values.”
Kayla shook her head, “Hell no I don’t. I just know what I’m worth and I don’t want to waste my time.”
“You know what Kayla, I have a challenge for you.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to ask a guy out for a change. Since all the guys who approach you can’t seem to meet your lofty standards, maybe you should go up to the ones who do.”
“Come on Joanna! I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“It’s the modern age girl. You need to get out of that old mindset. If you want something, what’s so wrong with going after it?”
“Fine. I’ll take you up on that. I’ll ask a guy out. I’ll prove to you that it’s the men in this city keeping me single, not me.”
Armed with motivation from Joanna, Kayla determined to find a man suitable enough to ask out. Maybe Joanna did have a point: she needed to pursue a man that she saw worthy instead of sifting through the deluge of unsuitable men that insisted on wasting her time.
Kayla didn’t know where smart, professional women over thirty-five went to meet men. She didn’t want to visit the same places that were overcrowded with younger women who didn’t share her same career status and romantic goals. Kayla was looking for more than a “bit of fun”; she’d stopped looking for “fun” years ago and she craved something far more.
After closing down her office for the day, Kayla had given up on ever mustering up the courage to go to a bar to pick up men. She knew that she just didn’t have it in her. Bars were uncomfortable places with too much drinking and too many men who felt entitled to every woman in the place.
Kayla knew that it was unlikely she would meet someone at her next destination but she needed to clear her head anyways. Kayla had a stash of gym clothing in her office so she changed before heading out. Her curves were hugged by her black spandex pants. Her breasts fit tightly into her neon peach sports bra and loose black tank. Kayla added a headband to keep her hair out of her face. By the end of the work day, her strands were already craving moisture.
Kayla drove to the gym. For over ten years of membership, Kayla was a platinum VIP at her gym and she had an amazing reserved parking spot in the gym’s garage. Kayla felt self-conscious entering the gym. For the first time ever, she was paying attention to the people around her. There were all shapes and sizes of members: skinny Zumba lovers, chubby yoga enthusiasts, beefy weightlifters and all other body types. This time, Kayla also noticed the sheer number of attractive men.
Usually, Kayla was so focused at the gym that she barely noticed men. Now, the gym practically looked like a buffet. Kayla felt embarrassed for even noticing the men there.
Kayla had a challenging post-workday exercise routine that was always guaranteed to keep her heart rate up. She started off by doing a tough uphill thirty minute jog on the treadmill. Kayla huffed and puffed throughout the first ten minutes, wondering if she even had the gusto to continue. Besides her recent frustrations with dating, Kayla had a lot of other things on her mind. She was always looking to grow and expand her private practice. Kayla had all the success in the world depending on your perspective. But Kayla had always wanted more. Her incredible drive for everything she wanted was propelling her to find some way to take things to the next level.
As she toyed with idea after idea on how to grow her therapy practice, Kayla came upon the end of her thirty minutes. Sweat ran rivulets down her back and chest. Kayla could feel her headband hanging heavy with sweat on her head. She wasn’t through with her workout yet.
Kayla made her way to the gym mats to prepare for the core strength segment of her workout. Kayla knew she’d neglected core strength after giving up on her tummy ever being flat. Today, her mindset was different; the endorphins from the run had given her the boost she needed. Core strength wasn’t about achieving some media ideal or a specific look. It was just about strength and confidence in her abilities.
Kayla took a deep breath as she started off on her first minute of planking. She felt her abs tighten and again, she was drawn into the zone. Kayla was soon drawn into her workout again. By the time she was finished with her core workout, she couldn’t find the energy to do another plank.
For the final part of her circuit, Kayla usually did a hard and fast thirty minutes on a stationary bike. At this point in her workout, she’d lost the energy to do much else. With the back support provided by an exercise bike, all of a sudden she felt like she could push out those final thirty minutes with ease.
Kayla hoisted herself onto the stationary bike, her eyes glazed over with raw determination and she began to push herself as hard as she could go to the end of the workout. She could see the sun setting outside. The city was bustling beneath her, imbuing Kayla with the energy she needed to finish strong. Now, she was too tired to indulge her stress about work, dating or anything else.
Stress was out of the question.
When Kayla finished, she could have collapsed. That was one of the things she liked about her routine. The exhaustion was different from the kind she felt after an arduous day at work. Kayla was running on a pure exercise high.
“You’re really pushing it today, aren’t you?”
Kayla turned around in surprise, expecting the man standing behind her to be some twenty-something guy who was way out of his depth with her.
“Excuse me?”
The man standing behind her was easily over 6’4” and he was far from being a loserish twenty something.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I just notice you coming here all the time. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” Kayla replied; she couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m Grant by the way, Grant Middleton.”
“Kayla, Kayla Williams,” She answered, sticking out her hand to shake his. Grant’s handshake was strong and secure. Kayla could already tell he was a confident man; just her luck, he was far from being in his twenties too.
“I’ve never seen you around here, how long have you been going to the gym?” Kayla asked.
It was out of character for her to make conversation with a man in public, especially at the gym but Grant was far more attractive than most and he’s already passed Kayla’s first test of worthiness.
Grant grinned, “About five years.”
Kayla shook her head, “No way. I’ve been a member for ten years and I’ve never noticed you around!”
“I’ve noticed you.”
As Grant said that, he held Kayla’s eye contact. Kayla was already shocked by how bold he was but Grant looking directly into her eyes was almost enough to make her melt. He was devastatingly tall and handsome to boot. He had an incredible angular face with sharp cheekbones and a stunning smile with deep smile lines running through his face. Already, Kayla could tell he was the type of guy who spent a lot of time in the throes of deep laughter.
Grant had piercing icy blue eyes and chestnut colored hair that was slicked back. Kayla had never seen anyone with such incredibly blue eyes before. Kayla had never found herself so instantly stunned by a man’s physical appearance before. Grant’s muscled bulged through his black tank top and his black shorts hugged his strong thighs perfectly. Kayla found her eyes wandering down to his crotch as she unconsciously checked out his package.
Grant continued, “You know I recognize you from around town… Do you have that private practice midtown?”
Kayla smiled and nodded. It was rare that someone actually recognized her from work.
“Yes, that’s where my office is. I do a mix of psychotherapy and behavioral counseling.”
“Wow, that’s incredible. I’m in real estate actually so I walk past your place all the time.”
“Real estate? With which agency?” Kayla asked; she had many friends in the real estate game and she was hoping she could figure out some way she was connected to Grant.
Grant blushed and looked down sheepishly instead.
“I’m not with an agency,” He replied shyly.
Kayla couldn’t figure out what he was being so coy about. She knew being pushy could have been a turn off but she was desperately curious to find out what Grant did for a living.
“Then how are you involved with real estate?”
Grant said, “Well I own a couple brownstones near your office.”
Kayla tried to hold back her surprise. Owning a couple places in New York City would have made Grant more than wealthy.
“Wow. Well, maybe you should stop by my office sometime and say hi.”
“Maybe I should…”
Kayla knew that she was going to miss her chance if she didn’t act quickly and seize her chance to ask Grant out. She was getting the perfect opportunity to act on the deal she’d made with Joanna earlier. Grant was an incredible candidate to date so far. Within a few seconds, Kayla had ascertained more about his personality than he’d even realized.
Grant was tall, attractive, athletic and he had an amazing source of income. Kayla couldn’t believe her luck that she’d met him. She wasn’t fully convinced that he didn’t have some skeletons in his closet but at least she could ask him out and get the pressure of doing so out of the way.
“So Grant, why don’t you forget stopping by and we’ll go out sometime. I’d love to hear more about… real estate,” Kayla said, flashing him a smile.
Grant smiled back; Kayla could have swooned at how beautiful his eyes looked when he smiled at her.
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll put my number in your phone if you don’t mind,” She grinned.
Grant pulled out the latest Samsung smartphone and again, Kayla tried not to be too visibly impressed. She typed in her number 212-555-0205. She saved her number under the name “Gym Cutie”. Kayla hoped that the flirty and playful move would land her a date with the gym hottie.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can. See you around Kayla.”
“Absolutely,” Kayla replied.
She watched as Grant walked towards the lockers. His ass was so tight you could bounce a quarter off of it. Kayla tried to hold herself together. She was long done with her workout but she was hot and bothered as if she’d done the entire circuit again twice. Kayla herself made her way to the locker room of the gym which wasn’t terribly crowded that day.
Kayla stripped down to nothing and got into one of the available shower stalls. At a gym this nice, showing was more of an experience than not. She let the water pour down her back and she got her thick hair nice and wet. Kayla pumped her sulfate-free conditioner into her strands, massaging it in to ensure her coils were nice and moisturized. Natural hair and the gym sometimes seemed incompatible but Kayla loved the evening routine of self love.
Kayla lathered up and then rinsed her body off, finger detangling her hair once she was done. After a nice long shower, she emerged with a sense of accomplishment about her. She’d skipped Joanna’s pleas to take herself to a bar or another dating hotspot and instead she’d met one of the most attractive guys she’d ever seen right here at her gym. He was a man who had been going to this gym for years too, just like she had. It was just her luck that he would pop up the exact moment she was supposed to ask someone out.
She couldn’t wait to tell Joanna about this. Kayla got dressed in a relaxed pair of yoga pants and a grad school t-shirt and then drove home. The drive home was stressful — as it usually was — but it gave her time to think and clear her head.
Kayla had a love-hate relationship with the waiting game that was a big part of dating. She couldn’t be sure when Grant would call her but she was desperately hoping it would be prior to the upcoming weekend. A booked Friday night at least guaranteed her weekend entertainment besides hanging out with her girlfriends — not like there was anything wrong with a good girls’ night.
Not to mention Kayla was almost 100% sure that a date with Grant would surpass anything that she could have possibly had with Frank. Kayla was just glad he hadn’t called her back.
Once at home, Kayla cooked herself a delicious but simply dinner. At the end of the day she was too tired to do anything more complicated, even if her mother often commented on how her “healthy food would never land her a decent man.”
Kayla rolled her eyes as she thought about what her mom would say about her mushroom sauté and Cobb salad. Her mother always wondered if Kayla was going on a diet. The sly dig at Kayla’s weight didn’t go unnoticed. But Kayla had just always been a little chubby — regardless of what she ate. In her adulthood, she’d managed to shake off the negative comments from her friends and family and just live life for herself. When she wanted soda, she drank soda. When she wanted a mushroom sauté, that’s what she ate. Life was much happier and freer that way.
As Kayla sat down to eat, a ringing cellphone threatened her freedom. At first, she’d hoped it was Grant. It was the furthest person in her life from Grant.
“Hi Stanford,” Kayla mumbled.
Stanford was Kayla’s “safe bet”. They’d dated occasionally over the past few years but things had never gone anywhere. Stanford was good on paper, but Kayla just couldn’t see herself having a long term relationship with him. Nevertheless, he was content to float in and out of Kayla’s life without bothering her much or expecting much out of her. Sometimes Stanford would joke that they would get married when she finally gave up on the bastards of New York. Kayla disagreed ardently.
“How’s your night gorgeous.”
“Fine. I’m just sitting down to dinner. Are you okay?”
Stanford sighed and then replied, “I’m fine. I just miss you.”
Kayla rolled her eyes; she felt lucky that Stanford couldn’t actually see her doing that. She was flattered by some of Stanford’s attention but his sweetness had the potential to be sickening too.
“Well, I don’t know if I’m free this week.”
“New guy in your life?”
Kayla hesitated to answer him. She knew that Stanford was always sniffing around for a boyfriend to edge out of Kayla’s life. As far as he was concerned, he was the only man good enough for her. Kayla knew that she found plenty of flaws in the guys she dated but Stanford went into overdrive whenever he sniffed out Kayla had a new man in her life.
“No new guy.”
“I can always tell when you’re lying Kayla.”
“I’m not lying okay! I might have met someone but we don’t even have a date yet. I’m just… busy this weekend.”
“Well I’ll have to take your word for it that you aren’t lying.”
“When have I ever lied to you Stanford?” Kayla said impishly.
Stanford grumbled, “Never. I just really want to be with you Kayla. You’re so damned elusive and hard to get.”
“Makes you want me more, doesn’t it?” Kayla said.
“Goodnight Dr. Williams.”
“Goodnight Stan.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times Kayla, it’s Stanford, not Stan.”
“Sleep tight, Stanford.”
Kayla hung up before Stanford could find another way to hook her into another conversation or worse, tell her that he loved her. That was his new favorite way to sink his claws into Kayla.
She finished up her meal and settled into bed with a new novel which carried her off to sleep.
The next day on her way to work, Kayla was fixated on the clients she’d be taking that day. As usual, her Wednesday’s were packed to capacity. Kayla usually loved a busy schedule but her muscles were sore from her workout the day prior.
As Kayla waited in traffic, her phone rang. She pressed answer on her car’s bluetooth setup.
“Hello?”
“Is now a bad time?”
Kayla recognized the voice instantly.
“No, I’m just stuck in traffic. You’re on speaker phone.”
“No kids in the car?”
Grant was just as funny as Kayla had hoped. She chuckled in response to his not-so-subtle attempt to figure out whether or not she had children.
“No kids, Grant. What’s up?”
“Dinner, Friday night?”
“I’m totally free! I’m surprised you called back so soon.”
Grant laughed.
“How could I resist calling up the ‘gym cutie’ and seeing what she had in store for me.”
“Very funny.”
“Well I’d love to pick you up from your apartment. Can I come by around eight?”
“Sure, I can message you my address.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait to see you Kayla.”
“Bye!”
The way Grant had said “I can’t wait to see you Kayla” played over and over again in her head. She’d only had two short conversations with the man but Kayla already felt smitten. He had a sonorous deep voice that hypnotized Kayla every time she heard it. Grant fit all her up front requirements and everything he said forced her to smile from ear to ear. Kayla had never felt such positivity towards anyone in a long, long time.
Kayla had already determined that a first date with Grant would be one of the best nights for her life. Sitting through traffic seemed to go much faster with Grant on her mind. By the time Kayla arrived at her office, she had a smile on her face. She was having a better day than any she’d had in months. The back to back client meetings were starting to feel less like a burden and more like the beginning of a count down to an amazing first date. She couldn’t wait to tell Joanna all about Grant Middleton.
* * *
Dark Romance Books: American Alpha Soldier (WMBW Interracial Romance Novel)
Hi everyone! I have been working to make some changes and re-release my book previously published as Rock Hard Soldier under a different title. Finally, the book is ready and on sale. I have to warn you that this book has very sweet romance mixed with dark themes and if you feel sensitive regarding some of the explicit content in this book, you may not enjoy it. However, the sex scenes in this book are INSANELY hot and I promise you will be scouring bars looking for the military man of your dreams to take you home…
Keep reading here to enjoy the entire first chapter FREE. 👇
Talia leaned over the table, pressing her elbows into the table and squeezing her bosom together unconsciously.
“So how much time do you have left?”
“One last tour of duty. Not sure when.”
“Exciting. So you’ve been all over the world?" She probed.
He sat back and nodded, “All over the middle east at least. Spent some time in Africa.”
“Oohh, Africa. Sounds wild.”
“It was.”
“Well, Damian, I’m glad Imogen convinced us to get together.”
Damian smiled at the woman sitting across from him. She was the one who’d needed to be convinced. From the moment his buddy’s wife, Imogen Henderson, had brought her stunning friend Talia out for drinks, Damian had been smitten. He’d only said a few, shy words to her, but he was desperate to find out more.
Imogen, eager to play matchmaker, had convinced Talia to see Damian beyond the group setting. Their first date had started off well.
“I’m glad too.”
Talia shrugged, “Though I can’t say I agree with all this war stuff. I’m more of a pacifist.”
“A pacifist?"
Talia nodded.
“I don’t think there’s a single conflict that we can solve better with violence.”
Damian smirked and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Well, we’re all entitled to our opinions, aren’t we.”
“Hey, no judgment,” Talia replied.
“So what about you? What do you do for a living?”
Talia shook her long, curly black hair out of her face. Her sparkly eyeshadow complemented the Ankara print on her dress.
“I’m a singer."
“What kind of singer?”
“Gospel music. Jazz music. Anything that will pay the bills.”
“No way.”
“Yup,” Talia nodded, “It’s always been my dream to be a big star. Like Etta James. Or Billie Holiday.”
“I love Billie Holiday.”
“There's not a man I trust who doesn’t.”
Damian grinned. He liked Talia so far. A lot. She was on the thicker side, with a nice round buttocks and a set of breasts that he’d pay to suffocate between. Not like he’d be so crude as to say that to her out loud. Her skin, a reddish-brown ochre color had a deep, warm glow. Her smile lit up her face, carving out two dimples in her cheeks.
Her patterned dress was loud and extroverted, in stark contrast to the shyness she displayed on their date. She was reserved but open at the same time, giving Damian the impression that she valued her honesty.
“So where do you sing?”
Talia lit up once he asked her about singing.
“I started off singing in church. But then… I stopped going to church. Started getting gigs singing in bars. I put out an independent album and now my agent is working to sign me a record deal.”
“Wow. That’s…impressive?”
Talia shrugged, “Not really. It’s not like I’m rich or anything. But I hope to be some day.”
“Don’t we all,” Damian replied with a smile.
He continued to press her, “So this album, can I listen to it some time?”
“You can buy it,” Talia teased, “Lord knows I need the money.”
“I’ve never been a fan of gospel music.”
Talia clicked her teeth, “I have a feeling I’ll change your mind.”
Damian admired her confidence. She seemed to ooze it, especially when talking about singing. Hell, he could imagine she’d be a good singer too. Even her regular speaking voice was deep and sultry, with a slight rasp to it. He could just imagine how beautiful she looked with her mouth all twisted up, as high notes flew into the air.
Talia could see him looking at her and she changed the subject again. She found Damian attractive, but she didn’t want to lead him to believe she was ready for something that she wasn’t. A man being fine wasn’t enough of a reason for her to let him in.
“Another drink?” Damian asked.
“Sure thing.”
Damian pulled a waiter aside and ordered another drink for the two of them. He leaned across the table and smiled at Talia. His blue eyes were widened with curiosity. As he smiled, Talia noted how perfectly straight his teeth were, how he smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and how his hair was a gorgeous ash brown color.
“What? Why are you staring at me?”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Then ask it.”
“How good are you at shootin’ pool.”
Talia smiled back.
“I’m pretty damn good.”
“Then you won’t mind if I challenge you to a game after we drink?”
“Mind?” Talia replied, “I’ll whoop you ’til next Tuesday. Won’t be much of a challenge.”
Damian chuckled.
“I love your confidence.”
Talia teased him by winking. Man, she was gorgeous. Where the hell had Dwayne Henderson been hiding a single woman like this from him for so long? It had been such a long time since Damian had been with a woman. Deployment meant there wasn’t much time for romance and when there was, it was usually brief and meaningless.
Now that he’d settled down for a while, Damian could see himself pursuing something more. And with Talia, he could definitely picture it. She was luminous, confident and charming. Her voice was magnetic too.
Their drinks came and Talia pounded hers back quickly. Damian followed suit. She stood up and sauntered towards the pool table.
“Get ready to have your ass kicked,” She teased.
Damian grinned, “Oh no missy, I ain’t about to let you whoop me.”
They grabbed cues and set the balls in the triangle. Talia leaned over the table and squinted one eye shut. She seemed to be making micro-adjustments. As she set up her shot, Damian couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to her body. Her bosom swung over the table, giant mounds of flesh that distracted him thoroughly.
When the cue cracked into the first ball, sending three solids into the holes, Damian snapped out of his reverie.
“Shit. Nice shot.”
“I know it was,” Talia replied, winking at him.
“You know,” Damian replied, “I’ve never lost a game of pool.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Not this,” Damian said cheekily.
“Have you always been such a flirt?”
Damian chuckled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Talia waited for him to make his shot. She was playing hard to get with him, but the truth was, she was trying to convince herself not to take things too far with Damian. In the past, most of the guys she’d dated had tried their hardest to get in the way of her career.
They’d seem OK with it up front, but when they realized just how much work Talia put into her singing and producing songs, they lost interest. Fast. If the guy was a particularly troublesome one, he’d try sabotage. Talia was wary around new guys. Damian was a bit different because Imogen had pleaded with her to give him a chance.
He was Dwayne’s buddy from Afghanistan and they worked out together three times a week. If Dwayne and Imogen vouched for him, that had to be worth something. Damian’s shot wasn’t bad. But Talia was convinced she’d still beat him.
She shot again. And missed. Badly.
“Damn it!” She swore.
Damian chuckled, “They let you sing gospel with that mouth?”
“I’m a singer, not a saint,” Talia replied, “And I really thought I had you there.”
“Guess I’m more of a challenge to beat than you thought.”
Man, she was sharp. And Damian was finding himself more attracted to that than he expected. It wasn’t just her looks, her sharp wit or her charm. It was something more.
They played one round. Talia won. The smug look on her face didn’t bother Damian one bit.
“Round two?” He asked.
“Only after a shot of whiskey.”
“Gotcha.”
Damian was starting to feel the liquor. The slightly dizzy feeling plus the excitement he felt just being around Talia was starting to make him feel frisky. Damian ordered two shots of whiskey at the bar.
While Damian was at the bar, Talia leaned her weight on her pool cue, waiting for him to return. She knew she could beat him again. Talia was smiling so widely and so distracted that she didn’t notice the two men come up behind her.
“You usin’ this table?” One of the men grunted.
The two men were both taller than Talia. Both with protruding, globe shaped beer guts. One had black hair and the other was bald.
“Yeah. I’m waiting for someone.”
“It’s our turn,” the bald one said.
“Excuse me?”
The black haired one folded his arms and smiled smugly, “It’s our turn. So hand over the pool cue.”
Talia glared.
“No.”
The black haired man started getting in her face when Damian returned.
“Do we have a problem here gentlemen?” He asked.
The bald one smiled, “We were just watching.”
They stood back and left Talia alone for the time being. With their arms folded, the two men stood against the wall watching. Talia tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling the men gave her. She had a sense that they hadn’t seen the last of them.
“Whiskey?” Damian offered.
She took her shot.
“And you’re really okay?”
“Yeah. They were looking for trouble, but I don’t think they found any.”
“Good.”
“Bottoms up,” Talia said with a smile.
Damian grinned and they tilted their heads back, consuming their shots of whiskey quickly.
“Mmm.”
“Burns.”
“Ready for me to beat you again?” Talia teased.
“Hell yes.”
Damian was willing to let her beat him a second time. He was intoxicated just being near her. The liquor didn’t help. Damian watched as Talia leaned over to take her shot. Again, she looked perfect like this, all bent over with that look of hunger for victory beaming in her eye.
“Your staring is distracting me.”
“A man can’t help looking when he sees something nice.”
“Well try to keep it in your pants, okay?”
“No guarantees,” Damian teased.
As Talia took her first shot, the two guys cheered and whooped in the back. Damian braced himself. He could tell they were looking for trouble from the moment he’d seen them start piling on Talia. For now, they’d held themselves back. But Damian didn’t know how long that’s last.
He took his first shot. Awful.
Damian stood up and cast a watchful eye at the men up against the wall. They were getting rowdier. At Talia’ next shot, they approached the table to whoop and cheer for her.
Talia was getting visibly uncomfortable. Damian turned to the guys and told them off.
“Why don’t y’all get away from this table.”
“It’s a free country sir. We’ll stay right where we are,” The bald one said.
It’s a date. Don’t give them the trouble they’re looking for. Damian tried to talk himself down from lashing out instantly, despite his urges.
Talia pressed her hand to Damian’s arm.
“Don’t worry about it. Ignore them.”
Damian was finding it hard. Talia was winning the game, whooping him badly. When she bent over to shoot what Damian was sure would be her last shot, the black haired man who’d been watching them waltzed over and smacked her on the ass.
Talia stood up, mouth agape. The bald headed man and the black haired man began laughing at the top of their lungs, their faces turning tomato red and beer spilling out of their pony-neck bottles.
“Did you see the look on the face of that monkey,” The black haired one laughed even harder.
Damian couldn’t hold back any longer. He rushed towards the men. Talia grabbed his arm, trying to stop him.
“Damian! No! It’s fine.”
“To hell it is…” Damian growled.
Damian walked over to the two men, getting into the taller one’s face.
“Why don’t you two get away from here so I don’t have to get my hands dirty.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re gonna do to us?” The bald one grunted, cracking his knuckles.
“I don’t want any trouble. I just want us to be left alone,” Damian replied.
He could feel his face turning red. He could feel blood boiling in his veins and that old desire to grab onto someone and bash their face in was running strong. Damian tried to resist.
I’ve changed. I’m not gonna let one douche bag upset me.
The black haired guy took a step forward, refusing to back down.
“It’s a free fuckin’ country and I don’t have to do shit that a nigger lover like you tells me.”
“What did you just call me?” Damian growled.
Bald head folded his arms with a cocky grin plastered across his face, “I think he spoke loud and clear. He called you a nigger lover.”
"I already told you to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Damian growled.
He cracked his knuckles. He knew the type that these guys were. They’d fix their mouth to say anything, thinking that no one would have the guts to stop them. But Damian had already identified their weak points. He could see that the bald headed guy had a slight limp and that the black haired one was too drunk to take a punch. He was prepared to fight them off.
“It’s a free country mother fucker,” The bald one said.
“Please Damian, let’s just get out of here,” Talia pleaded.
She didn’t want this to escalate. But Damian couldn’t stand to sit back and watch somebody spit out the n-word like it was nothing. Damian wasn’t going to listen to her. There was a time to be the bigger man, but it wasn’t now.
He stepped up to bald head and swung. Bald head dodged the first punch but he didn’t see the second coming. Damian’s fist connected with his face and Damian kicked his feet out from under him. Bald head fell, hitting his head on the pool table first. Damian landed another kick.
“Damian! Damian, you don’t have to do this!” Talia screamed.
Damian was too overcome by his fury to stop himself. Hearing the man’s words echoing in his head stung. Rage blinded him. Damian stepped over bald head. He grabbed black hair by the caller and slammed him into the pool table. He bashed his head into it again and again.
“Don’t you dare say that word,” Damian growled, “Don’t you dare say it!”
The bartender had finally noticed something was wrong. He had called a couple bouncers who were now making their way to where Damian was standing. He slammed the black haired man’s head one last time. Damian stepped back before the bouncers and the bartender had arrived.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Damian announced.
Damian dropped the black haired man to the ground. He stepped over both of them and approached Talia.
“C’mon,” He replied, “Let’s get out of here.”
Talia was shaken. She followed Damian, grabbing his hand as they left the bar. The bouncers and the bar keep weren’t too perturbed. Damian had a feeling the men he’d run into were regulars — and regular troublemakers. While they expected him to leave, no one caused him more trouble.
As Damian and Talia exited the bar, he shook his fist. Throwing a punch hurt. And he hadn’t thrown one in a while. He tried to abstain from violence wherever possible.
“Are you okay?!” Talia asked.
Damian nodded as they walked towards his car which was in a garage a few blocks away.
“Yes. I’m okay. But really I should be asking about you.”
Talia wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The weather was cool enough for a light jacket, but not cold. Still, she was shaken from her experience in the bar.
“I’m… fine,” Talia replied.
Damian shook his head, “I can’t believe those assholes. I know I shouldn’t have blown up. But I couldn’t help it.”
Damian paused and then held Talia still on the sidewalk.
“It’s not okay for people to treat you like that.”
“I know,” She nodded.
“Are you cold?”
“A bit.”
“Take my jacket. I don’t need it,” Damian said.
He took his jacket off and wrapped it around Talia. She fit nicely in the jacket, except for her breasts which prevented the jacket from zipping up all the way. Damian linked arms with her and they kept walking.
“Think they’ll let you back in the bar?” Talia asked.
Damian shrugged, “Probably not.”
“Y’know, I appreciate it. But you didn’t have to do all of that for me. I can handle myself.”
“I know. But why should you have to.”
Talia felt her heart flutter. She hated to admit it to herself, but she found herself painfully attracted to Damian. And while she considered herself a pacifist, there was something sexy about seeing Damian defend her. He'd meant it when he’d said those guys deserved it.
“Well thanks. I appreciate it."
“No problem,” Damian grunted.
They approached the garage.
“Second floor?”
“Yup,” Damian confirmed that she’d remembered correctly.
They walked up towards his car. Damian knew the night was almost over and he’d ended the date on a strange note. Those bastards…
Once they were outside Damian’s car, a restored 1973 Pontiac Grand Am, he stopped Talia.
“I’m sorry that things ended the way they did. I really am.”
“It’s fine, I swear,” Talia replied.
“No. It’s not fine. When Dwayne told me that you'd actually go out with me, I wanted to make a good first impression. That… wasn’t it. You might think ‘cause I’m military that I'm here to play around. But I’m not.”
“Oh?”
“I’m looking for the real thing Talia. And you’re something… something very fascinating to me.”
“Fascinating? Well that’s new.”
“Sorry,” Damian muttered, “I’ve never been too good with my words.”
He took a step closer to her, forcing Talia to lean up against the Grand Am. The old car, the hot date, Talia couldn’t wait for him to kiss her. Damian started slowly, running his hands along her hips and sitting them right above her bottom.
“You’re beautiful Talia Sherbert,” He whispered.
“Thank you.”
Damian then leaned in, slowly, calculating each motion. He kissed Talia on the lips softly. His lips pressed against hers and their eyes both snapped shut. Talia reached up to touch Damian’s face. Stubble peppering his chin rubbed against Talia’ hand as she kissed him deeply. Damian thrust his tongue into her mouth and supported her as she leaned back against the car.
When he pulled away from her, Talia’ brown eyes were wide open. She looked… pleased.
“I’ve been waiting all night to kiss you,” Damian muttered.
“Same…”
“Well c’mon then. Let’s not wait here any longer so that those guys don’t come looking for me.”
“Good idea.”
Talia got into the passenger seat.
“So… Night cap?” Damian asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Wanna head somewhere else?”
Talia fidgeted in her seat like she was contemplating her answer. The truth was, she didn’t want the night to be over, but she also didn’t want to go anywhere else with Damian. The bar had been enough drama for the night. Plus, she was getting more tempted by the second to invite Damian back to hers.
“Why don’t I show you my place. I can play one of my records for you,” Talia blurted out.
She’d gotten ahead of herself. But she didn’t mind. Damian was hot. Smokin’ hot. And even if nothing happened between them but a few kisses, she had a feeling it would be worth it. Plus, he said he didn’t like gospel and she was determined to change his mind.
There was a practical reason for this. Of course.
“Fine. We’ll go to yours,” Damian muttered, trying to hide his smirk.
For a pacifist, it was clear Talia was turned on by his display. That was the thing with good girls. They always went a little crazy when they bounced up with a bad boy.
Damian gripped the steering wheel tight and listened to Talia give him directions to hers. As a moderately successful but not-quite-famous gospel singer, she lived in a nice part of town. It wasn’t too far from Damian’s place either. On the ride home, Damian flicked on the radio. Talia changed it to the RnB station.
Alicia Keys’ song No One came on. Talia started to sing every word. It was hard to stay focused when she was singing. When Damian heard her voice for the first time, he was mesmerized. Notes came out of her mouth effortlessly. Her voice had a type of power, a deep soul to it. Soul that put Amy Winehouse to shame. She was clearly a diamond in the rough as her voice was better than most living stars Damian could name.
She even sounded better than Alicia. As Talia sang, she rocked and danced along with the music. Damian could see it written all over her face: her music brought her joy. It was hard for him not to be infected by it. When the song was over, Talia was all smiles.
“Whew! I love that song,” She said, beaming from ear to ear.
Damian was mesmerized. Drawn in by her intoxicating smile and her liquid gold voice, he couldn’t help but hope another song came that would bring Talia out of her shell and cause her to belt out another beautiful tune. But the last few songs before they arrived at her place were dull, unchallenging to her vocals. So Talia was quiet. But still gorgeous.
Of all the time Damian had spent with her, being alone with her had been the best. She’d morphed from “Imogen’s friend” into this full, complex woman and there was so much more he’d noticed about her that had nothing to do with her looks. And well, her looks were magnetic too.
Talia had noticed him looking at her. She noticed the way his eyes tried not to stray to her breasts, yet remained inexplicably pulled there. She noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel tighter when she sang and how much Damian Buckley seemed to be holding back.
Don’t hold back. She wanted to tell him. I feel it too. And I want you…
Talia was far too timid to say this all out loud. She’d wanted Damian from the second Dwayne Henderson had brought him to the bar a few months ago. All that dancing around each other and casual flirtation had finally led to a real date. And even if Damian was no stranger to her, this was all still very new.
It had been a while since Talia had poked her head up from work to notice a man, much less go on a date with one. And Damian wasn’t just a man. He had a stable career, albeit, one she disagreed with. He was athletic, spending hours in the gym with Imogen’s hubby. He had gorgeous blue eyes and a woody, leathery scent to his cologne.
When they pulled up at her place, Talia felt nervous. If she’d jumped the gun with him, she’d feel like a fool. She still couldn’t tell how Damian felt about her. He felt strongly enough to take on two drunks in the bar, but how far did that extend? What if he was just being a gentleman? And when he found out how much she put her work above everything else, would that turn him away?
He parked the car.
“Your home is… massive.”
Heat rushed to Talia’ cheeks. She’d started off her career renting out a basement bedroom with mold so thick she’d developed permanent hay fever from it. This house was a recent upgrade, and one she was barely comfortable with.
“Thanks.”
“So… Gonna play me one of your records?”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind about coming in.”
Damian leaned over. His face was close to hers, like he was going to kiss her again.
“Trust me… I haven’t changed my mind.”
He pulled away and opened his door, stepping out. Talia exhaled. Damian barely said much, but when he did say something, Talia found herself wanting to know more. For a military guy he seemed more reserved than she expected. All the army guys that Talia had known from high school were loud douche bags. Nothing like Damian.
He was hot and he wasn’t a dick. Not in the least bit.
There was something behind his eyes that told her he’d seen a lot in life. But what was it? What was it that pulled her in, compelling her to know more, compelling her to take a risk for him?
Talia opened the door to her house and flicked on the light. She saw Damian looking around, trying to hide how awestruck he was. She’d looked the same when she’d first walked into the place and when she was first hit with the realization that she could actually afford to live in a place like this.
Crisp minimalism defined Talia’ house. She didn’t have much furniture and nearly everything inside was a stark ivory or a cool grey. Damian was surprised. Given Talia’ colorful outfits, he expected her place to be louder.
In her living room, Talia had a white shelf, filled with records. Some of them were bargain bin jazz records from the 1960s. Others were brand new. Her Beyoncé record was propped up on the top of the shelf, against her brand new record player. Talia saw her display catch Damian’s eye.
“Everything sounds better on vinyl.”
“Oh really?” Damian replied.
Talia nodded, “If you don’t listen to records, you should start.”
Damian chuckled. He’d never met anyone as passionately into music as Talia was. Her record collection was beyond impressive.
“Got any rock’n’roll?” He teased.
“Of course!”
Damian raised his eyebrows. Talia was full of surprises. He didn’t mean to hold onto prejudice, but he didn’t know any black women who were into rock’n’roll.
“What’d’y’got?”
Talia had everything impeccably organized. On the middle left hand side of her shelf, she flipped through her rock collection.
“Zeppelin. Beatles. Grateful Dead.”
Damian chuckled, “You listen to the Grateful Dead?”
“Why not?”
“You’re full of surprises.”
Talia ignored his request for the Grateful Dead and instead just flicked on her Beyoncé album. Pretty Hurts started to play. Damian had never heard it before. But it was an album Talia had heard a million times. As she swayed to the music, preparing herself to match Beyoncé’s notes, she felt Damian approaching behind her. He was close now. So close she could feel his warmth.
Talia turned around abruptly. Her logical brain made one last dash to save her from her impulses.
“Maybe… Maybe it’s getting late… And you should go now.”
Damian took a step closer to her.
“Is that what you want?”
Talia tried to hold true to herself.
“Y-yes,” She whispered.
“Is that what you really want,” Damian replied, firmly.
His hands reached around her hips as he asked. He squeezed her tightly and kept his blue eyes locked to hers. His eyes were fierce, filled with the fires of his lust. He licked his lips like a lion about to pounce. Talia could feel her will getting weaker. Damian was fine. Far too fine. She’d made a mistake letting him this close.
There was no saying ‘no’ to a man like him.
“Yes… It’s what I want.”
Damian smirked, “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” Talia sassed.
“Because… I think you’re dripping wet. And I think what you really want is to feel my big cock sliding between your thighs. I think you want to cry my name out and sweat that gorgeous hair out ’til the sun comes up.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
Talia knew how weak she sounded — how unconvincing.
“I’m not.”
Damian leaned forward and kissed her. Talia wrapped her arms around him and kissed back. Damian pressed her body up against the wall. Her back tapped the wall with a gentle thud and she flung herself head first into kissing him. Screw it. His lips were baby soft. Each kiss was more tender and deeper than the last.
He was right. Talia could feel wetness pooling between her thighs as her desire for him heightened. Damian’s fingertips pressed against Talia’ skin. Fire surged through her body as he touched her. He pulled away from her for a moment and eyed her body.
“I want you…”
Talia took Damian’s hand and started leading him to her bedroom. She wanted him too, but not here.
“No,” Damian stopped her, and grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him.
“Here,” He growled, “We’re doing it here. Take your clothes off.”
His dominance made Talia wetter. She was used to being in control. At work, she called all the shots. On the stage, she was the center of the show and the center of attention. That’s what she was used to. And in one night, Damian had upended her need to maintain control.
Talia started to pull her dress up over her head. She pulled the printed dress up over her curves and struggled to get them over her large breasts. Once she was before Damian in her underwear, she felt a mix of vulnerability and excitement. She tried to cover her body with her arms.
“No. I want to see you… every last beautiful inch.”
Talia reluctantly let her arms down to her side.
“Fuck… It makes me so hard just looking at you.”
Damian rushed her again. He planted kisses on her lips and neck as his hands ran all over her curvaceous body. He squeezed her hips and her round buttocks and pressed his chest against her breasts. He couldn’t wait to get one of those supple blackberry nipples in his mouth.
“Mmm, take your panties off,” Damian growled.
Talia took her panties off, exposing her plump, shaved pussy. Damian reached around and unhooked her bra with one swift motion. Talia shivered as the cool air of her living room teased her nipples to hard attention.
“Perfection,” Damian muttered.
He bent his head to Talia’ nipples and took one into his mouth. Her bosom was warm and her flesh had a gentle vanilla scent. Damian knew he’d have to be gentle with her. The gospel singer with the molasses voice had flushed skin as he touched her. When he kissed her neck, she turned her face away ever so slightly. She was nervous to be like this in front of him.
Damian planned to change that. He led her over to the couch and bent her over the arm.
“Stay put,” He commanded.
Talia stayed still, quivering as she felt Damian kneeling between her legs. He splayed her thighs apart and dove his nose between her legs. Mmm. Damian inhaled the scent of her freshly shaven pussy and then pulled his face away. Talia had never felt so exposed before, but heat curled down her spine as Damian’s face returned between her thighs.
He spread her pussy lips apart with his fingers and began to kiss all around her thighs, diving his tongue between her pussy lips only so often.
“Mmm, you smell amazing,” He groaned.
Talia shuddered. His lips flicked across her pussy lips again. She buckled, leaning against the couch with all her might. Damian squeezed her thighs and drove his tongue between her pussy lips. He lapped at the full length of her lips, tasting every inch of Talia’ flesh.
“OHHH,” She cried out as his tongue grazed her clit.
Damian began to lick at her folds with more vigor until her knees buckled and her thighs quivered in pleasure. Talia moaned and squeezed her eyes shut as a climax drove her body to orgasm. It was true what they said about white men…
Talia had never had her pussy eaten so passionately before in her life. Damian seemed to enjoy dipping his tongue into every fold and tasting every inch of her plump pussy. When he finally pulled away, her thighs were dripping wet and she was more than ready for him to take his cock and shove it into her.
Damian stood up and fished a condom out of his pants. He stripped naked and rolled the condom onto his dick. Talia glanced backwards, catching her first glimpse of Damian’s naked body. His physique was far more formidable than she imagined. Every inch of his body was pure, cut muscle. His hours in the gym had been well spent.
Damian’s physique wasn’t the only thing impressive about him. His hardness protruded from his body like a monument. His thickness and hardness looked like it would stretch her wide open. Talia tried to hide her surprise. Damian had been so humble, that she’d never even thought about what he’d be packing between his legs.
But he was big. Really big. She braced herself against the couch as he positioned his hardness behind her. Talia was dripping wet and eager for pure pleasure. She was here for a good time with a good guy and so far ‘good’ was just the beginning of what she felt.
Damian began to press his hardness between her thighs. Talia gripped the couch and grit her teeth as he began to press inside her. His dick head sliding past her entrance was an instant mixture of pleasure and pain. Her knees buckled again and she wriggled her ass to allow him better access to her wetness.
As he pressed into her tight wetness, Talia moaned. Damian felt her pussy gripping him like a vice as he slid between her lips. It was a tight squeeze. Talia cried out again as he pushed his dick halfway in. He gripped her voluptuous hips and thrust the rest of his dick inside her with one swift motion.
“OHHH,” Talia cried.
“Mmm,” Damian moaned.
He began to thrust into Talia’ tight little love hole. She gasped as his hardness stretched her wide and he started to pound into her furiously. Damian was pounding her pussy hard and fast. With each stroke, Talia could feel fire rising in her chest. Her heart raced and her skin flushed as she drew close to climax.
Damian continued to pummel her, stroking her soft ass cheeks and gripping her hips as he pounded her ferociously. As a big orgasm overcame Talia, she bucked her hips back. Her pussy exploded and juices flowed all over Damian's hardness as her wetness clamped down on his cock, throbbing as the waves of orgasm washed over.
She whimpered and gasped as Damian kept pounding her, close to a finish of his own. Her long hair was stuck to her neck as Damian kept pummeling her wetness. He was getting close too, Talia could sense it. Damian let out a loud groan as he finally finished.
He grunted with his cock buried inside her, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body. Damian pulled his dick out and then took his condom off, tossing it into the trash. He returned to the couch, fully nude, as Talia lay on her back, gasping for breath.
She turned to look at Damian who smirked mischievously.
“I can see you enjoyed yourself.”
Talia nodded weakly. She could tell Damian would be eager for round two, but she needed to catch her breath. Damian walked over to her and pulled her up off the couch.
“Round two is in the bedroom…”
“You can’t be serious,” Talia said with a grin.
(She was hoping that he was.)
“Oh, I’m serious. And if you don’t get up… I’ll have to carry you there myself.”
Damian reached for her and Talia playfully swatted his hand away.
“I can get there myself.”
“Perfect. Now which way is it?”
Talia stood up and grabbed Damian by the hand, leading him to her bedroom. Her bedroom was just as tastefully decorated as the rest of her house with a giant, four poster king sized bed sitting right in the middle.
Lace white curtains framed the windows in the room, giving it a sensual and feminine look. Just like Talia. Damian leapt onto the bed first and Talia followed. She kissed and caressed his hair and then his back. She trailed kisses down his back until she came to his lower back.
The tattoo was small but it caught her attention immediately, pulling her out of the moment and turning her stomach.
It sat right there on his lower back. The six lines, twisted into a shape that represented hate, genocide and white supremacy. Talia had just made love to him and she felt sick.
With a shaky voice, she asked, “What the hell is on your back?”
* * *
🇺🇸HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! 🇺🇸 I published this day to celebrate BBQ, cookouts, family time and all the other awesome times we have on this holiday. This BWWM military romance is not heavy on military action but you’ll find steamy hot scenes that will rile you up for an incredible holiday weekend.
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